#people at my till will ignore me or dismiss me and are even worse to the guys packing bags for me going so far as to send them away

[enj4s]

VAMPIRE BOY, BITE ME IN THE MOONLIGHT! ᡣ𐭩 .

─── ˚୨୧⋆ PAIRINGS; subaru sakamaki, 𖥻SUBARU x fem! reader ｡˚ ⋆

─── ˚୨୧⋆ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎; smut. swearing. fem!dom! reader. reader is mean, again. pegging. (lil) hair pulling. hickies. crying. toxic relationship. both are fucked in the head.

★ Author note 😆😆!!: Whoever requested ts excuse my dramatic ass, I LOVE drama as you can see. (sorry btw) enjoy 🤤‼️ yallyal request I got nun to do other than rot in my bed 💔

It was one of those days-

You were a patient and laid-back person, or so you and some people thought. But your anger issues have gone up the roof since you met the seven diabolic, unhinged brothers.

Their mothers and Karlheinz were just as bad, if not even worse. The Mukamis could not redeem themselves but they were bearable, especially Azusa who was just less annoying and irritating, or atleast didn't make you wanna dig your nails in your skin and clutch hard till it bleeds, like the others. You had an exception between the seven Sakamaki siblings as well, whom was Subaru.

Subaru was one helluva person to deal with. If not for Karlheinz introducing you to his past, you would've kept your first impression of him, which was he had rabies.

That boy was as layered and complicated as an onion, and trying to navigate through his mind and emotions was gonna drive you mad. One moment he's calling you a dense ass for dropping a pencil or getting bitten, and the other he's glancing at you all soft like a high school girl in love would.

You swore you have spent and used more brain cells on trying to see through him than you had on maths. He could be downright cruel at times, and even dismissed you so harshly that you favored the men-whore final boss (Laito) over him for some while, which didn't last long when he forced you so adorably in a 'relationship' with him or is what you thought, since he ordered you to resist if any of his brothers try to bite you. What else did it mean?

He would become absolutely feral when he got jealous. It was pretty easy to make him reach that point, but dangerous. He would start yelling at you and destroying everything around him in blind rage when he saw you talk to a male teacher or student or his brother's, going as far as attempting drain you of plasma. It was all too tiring and frustrating, you wanted nothing but quietness, to be left alone and ignored.

His delusion of you being his was so utterly nonsensical, but you went along with it for your safety and sanity, it was wise to sometimes give up and give in to his delusions, which he used as a control and power element. Resisting only meant to get bit to near death, where you'd start to see stars and lights that you thought only existed in cartoons, or, like these times, when he'd strangle you.

-where you'd snap.

"Shut the FUCK UP!" You'd yell at the top of your lungs, couldn't you even be strangled to death silently? His yammering of you being a betrayer was so damn irritating. Subaru jolted and flinched away form the volume of your voice, that look on your eyes, he backed up slightly, his grip on your throat weakened. In a swift movement, you dug your nails deep into his unhealthily pale wrists, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you had left.

Subaru stumbled backwards, catching himself quickly, his white boots stepping on a broken shard of glass from a vase that you bet was supposed to be cherished. You felt guilty for using one of his traumas against him to make him halt, stop. Yes, but did it save you from getting choked? Yes.

The anger was incredibly contagious, you bite your lip to hold back all the insults and traumas you could bring up, knowing that it would just bring you brutal death and a quick burial in dirt in the next hour, you shut your mouth, trying to find saliva to relieve your sore throat that was deeply in dire need of moisture.

The grip he had on your throat just now had been so tight you could've sworn he had actually meant to kill you for a second. Your breathing became labored. Your heartbeat was stubborn and didn't wanna settle down. Your eyes stared back at Subaru's with a mixture of tears and fury, you blink. Trying to help your eyes get used to the light again.

Both of you had your flaws and toxic traits, you suddenly found yourself on top of Subaru, a hard grip on his hair that matched his on your throat earlier, you wipe salty tears away, everything was a blur. You swore you couldn't remember a thing. You'd insult other people for not controlling their actions, yet you couldn't keep yours in check either.

"Sorry," You murmured against his pale skin, kissing alongside the hickies and bite marks you left on his neck. They looked painful. He was a vampire, so you didn't worry too much. They'd heal in an hour or two. You were still between his thighs, cum dripped down his hips and legs.

"You just piss me off sometimes...It's so childish when you start yammering and yelling, creating scenes when I talk to anyone," You watched his wine red eyes trail down in something like shame. His mouth was sewed shut, he was already embarrassed from moaning as loud as he yells. He was cuter when he was quiet, you note, and grin silently, propping yourself on your knees to thrust inside him again without warning, tearing a shriek from the albino beneath you, he drops his head down on the pillows, you were making him feel way too good, as rough as it was.

It almost seemed like you were still taking your anger out on him as you pounded inside him harshly. Subaru felt his stomach coil and he tightens, when you'd lean down to whisper sweet nothings in his ear that didn't match your humping.

“C-ca- ah! Can’t! Hah..” Subaru whined shakily, a sound he'd drop dead before making if he was in his right state of his mind. He hiccups and whimpers as he covered his face with his hands. “So full..hic- too much," His legs dangle like a rag doll's from your shoulders as you plundge inside him deeper and deeper with each delicious thrust.

You lean down with a sigh, catching Subaru's lips in a kiss, and grab at his long bangs, tugging hard to tilt his head upward, and swallow down the loud wail that was about to wrack from his body as he came, vibrating slightly and hips thrusting up pathetically in the air. His fangs poked at your lip a bit painfully as he tried to bite down his noises, now chasing after your lips and the little blood that threatened to spill.

Getting strangled or beat again later from a flustered Subaru wouldn't be surprising after wracking his shit, but it was worth it. You could only laugh as he emptily threatened to break your arm after this, complaining that he couldn't feel his legs and that you're a perv.

─── ˚୨୧⋆ @enj4s ♡ @un0rin ♡

don't repost or copy I know where u live 👁

[jemmo]

i can’t tell you how much i usually hate these ignoring, distancing plots in shows and how much i absolutely adore everything about these 2 episodes of the eighth sense. like im not having a good time, and it’s fantastic.

bc the thing is, in all of this, i can’t see the right way to go, i can’t find the person to blame, i can’t find the way to make it better. I can’t single out a single moment or a thing someone did and say “this is why everything went wrong”. it’s just this coming together and rise and swell of things happening and people feeling things that has us ending up here and it feels beautifully and horribly organic bc we can’t find that point where it all went wrong. was it on that rooftop? was it at the beach? was it when they first met? was it when his brother died? was it when he was born into this family? there is no single point. it’s all of them and it’s none of them. there is truly nothing and no one to blame. and there are bad characters in the show, people you can hate, eunji and taehyung, but neither of them are to blame for any of the bad stuff that happens in the show. you’re not waiting for them to be taken down bc that doesn’t solve anything. instead, it’s just two people hurting, and not knowing how to make it better.

bc you take jaewon, and after what he says at the end of ep 8, you want to hate him, you want to be so angry at him for what he says, for how he acts, how dismissive and hurtful he is, and yet you’ve been made to understand 100% why, and not just in a “i get it but that wasn’t the right thing to do” way, in a “that was horrible and yet i know he doesn’t see any other way to handle this” way. like you don’t see this as a misstep, or a step to far, bc you know for him, in his state of mind, it is completely justified, it’s necessary. bc it not only punishes the person he blames for all of this, himself, but he sees it as a way to protect jihyun. and not even in a cliche “bad things happen when people around me, the people I love always get hurt” kinda way, but more so in that he sees that he is a scared, messy, struggling person that doesn’t know how to handle himself, and doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone, let alone the person he cares about. so what’s worse, a quick, swift blow that hurts but cuts everything off cleanly, or this prolonged relationship where he inevitably continues to weigh jihyun down with the weight of his trauma, and take it out on him. what’s the point of having a place of refuge when you ruin it more and more every time you depend on it, until it eventually can’t offer you comfort. it’s a lesser of two evils, jaewon’s choice is obvious to him.

but then you take jihyun. and we talk about masks and fronts but we never once question whether jihyun wears a mask bc he appears so sweet and innocent and naive, what can this boy possibly be putting up a front for. but i see it, this almost fake it till you make it confidence front that yes is becoming more natural. but my god just think about what he’s gone through for a second. think about it. left home for the first time in his life, moved to an unfamiliar and intimidating city with only one other person he knows, started a new job, started university, tried to build relationships, met a man that intrigues him, and perused him only to be kissed and then ignored, then maybe establish something tentative, only to then see him spiral, go on a trip where he shared his trauma, you have an intimate night together only to almost die, and then be not only ignored, but plain and simple rejected and pushed away. like… you can say all you want about jihyun growing as a person and having more courage, but no amount of growth for however many months this has been going on for can prepare you for that. for the mixed messages on steroids. for the back and forth, not knowing. to give yourself to someone like that and go through something traumatic and then be abandoned by that person. we get it, bc we see all of jaewon’s story. but apart from what jaewon shared at the beach, jihyun doesn’t know any more than that. he doesn’t know about therapy, about how his father acts towards him, about the extent of his trauma and how it manifests and affects his mental health, and how he is struggling every single day. and you can’t expect him to know the depths of that no matter how empathetic and connected he is, how much he cares about jaewon, he can’t be superhuman. and so you get why he pushes and fights for jaewon. like… he is in love. it’s clear. he’s fallen in love with him. he is this wide-eyed, open kid that fell in love with a senior. and jaewon has just messed with his head, he’s never been clear, and you can’t expect jihyun to just get past that bc he knows something is up with jaewon. he can’t know the full story, but even if he did, that can’t be a reason or a justification to be treated the way jaewon treats him. bc we’re all about jaewon putting himself first and doing what he wants and respecting himself like that, but jihyun deserves that too. and it’s such a fine line to tread when you know someone is going through something, bc again you understand why, but you’re still the one being treated that way. like we talk about jaewon’s trauma, but here jihyun was part of it, he went through that traumatic experience. he’s the one that nearly lost his life. and yes, he appears to handle it well, and no matter to what extent that’s true or not, you can’t not look at jaewon struggling and understand it and then not look at jihyun with that same understanding. it’s not about comparing trauma and pain and deciding who is suffering more, it’s seeing that there are two people in this, and they’ve both been affected, so we should give them the same level of understanding.

and that’s something jaewon has to see. that his self-preservation is selfish. that his destructive behavior doesn’t just affect jihyun, instead it feels pointed and directed, bc every way jaewon hurts himself hurts jihyun. and it comes bc jihyun was so much of what was good about jaewon’s life for a second, so attacking that is his only form of self-sabotage. he can’t mess up his relationship with his friends or parents bc they were broken in the first place, and he can’t sabotage his future bc it’s already been ruined the moment he didn’t pursue his photography major. him nearly getting kicked out of school affected him so little not just bc he wanted that punishment, but bc even that punishment meant so little to him. all these things are established and they already contribute to his suffering. removing jihyun from his life is the only active thing he can do to make himself feel worse, and he can veil it in an act of protection, and even feel like he’s doing the right thing, but that deceives them both into believing this is done from a good place, when no good can actually come of it. in trying to protect jihyun, you hurt him more. in trying to hurt yourself, you hurt him too. and when someone is in a headspace like jaewon is, you look for that thing that’ll break through. bc he is so distant, he’s trying to remove himself from reality, and jihyun needs to act as this person that can anchor him to it. when you’re trying to isolate and separate yourself, sometimes seeing that you still affect things, that there’s a persons that exists that is affected and hurt by your actions, and no matter how you try to cut yourself off, you cannot stop that, separating yourself still hurts them, maybe that’s a thing that can get through. but that’s something that depends on jaewon. ultimately, he’s the only one that can get himself out of this place, and that’s what makes it so hard, that no matter how much jihyun cares and how much he fights for him, nothing can come of that effort is jaewon doesn’t meet him there. and it’d be so easy for jihyun to give in, to take the hurt, but over the course of this show we’ve seen the strength jihyun has developed, which has only seemed to increase more so after the accident, call it a renewed vigor for life or something. he has the strength that jaewon doesn’t, to not let his pain consume him. and in a beautiful full-circle moment, it’s because of jaewon, bc when they first spoke he sparked in jihyun a want to be stronger, to be more than the country mouse, and he’s done it. and it’s that courage that means he can fight for jaewon, even in the face of rejection. he trusts himself and that he knows jaewon, the real jaewon, to see past words that are intended to hurt them both, and go after the person that’s still inside jaewon somewhere. no, he can’t do it for him, and no them being together is not some magical cure for jaewon, but it’s what can put him on a path of caring for himself again, and sometimes that has to start with caring about someone else (and suddenly I’m reminded of my beautiful man 2 and how kiyoi tries to break hira out of his worthless mindset by making him care about him, and how ultimately that can’t be enough, and that hira has to take those first steps of seeing his self worth by himself). what jihyun can do by fighting is again act as that tether to reality and try to be this representation of the good jaewon can be and do. bc look at jihyun, look at how confident and strong he has become, and look at how he got there, bc you saw that country mouse and gave him the time of day and helped him grow and gave him new experiences. you jaewon, you. and that shift in mindset, from jihyun representing hurt and the accident and the trauma of his brother and everything he can’t do, to being that light and refuge and everything he can do is again something that might breaks through. and the fact it has such narrative strength and satisfaction makes me hopeful that that’s what we might actually get.

[purgemarchlockdown]

For the ask game, I checked the second-most-tagged character in your archive... Kazui? 8, 11, 12, 13.

I didnt realize he was second-most tagged! He's my qpr's fav so Im not really surprised....

8. what is your theory for their crime? if there is general consensus on it in the fandom, do you have any other, not-so-widely-accepted thoughts on it?

I think I Generally have similar thoughts on him as the rest of his crime as the rest of the fandom does (it was suicide not murder) Uh...honestly I worry my answers for these arent too interesting since I dont Tend to think too much about the crime itself ha...I do think that its possible that Kazui did Much Worse than we are willing to believe or accept. A friend of mine watched Cat and Immediately caught onto how creepy it feels which I agree with honestly since that was my other thought when I was watching it.

I feel like people get a bit defensive when the idea of Kazui being Worse gets brought up but admittedly a lot of times when people bring it up they go "I cant believe people are so Stupid" which is just mean.

I'm personally more fond of the interpretations where Kazui is some flavor of Queer and the shitty he did was lying to his wife. Since that Is a Really Shit thing to do already and I think it's more interesting thematically and story wise. Plus it makes his normalcy and repression parallels with Amane more fun I think.

However I don't think that means that possibility for Kazui being Worse should be Dismissed outright. Just because Kazui is regretful and self-hating and genuinely kind and understanding does not eliminate that possibility and what not.

It also doesn't mean he Can't be Queer....so like....I dunno. I'm just trying to say that I don't Mind him being a worse person than we would like to believe.

11. what are your favorite points about their story and the narrative surrounding them?

(I DID NOT REALIZE TILL AFTER I WROTE ALL OF THIS THAT I ANSWERED THIS BEFORE WHOOPS! YOU CAN READ IT ALONGSIDE THIS I TALK ABOUT SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT THINGS)

GIVE! ME! THOSE! FEELINGS! OF! REPRESSION!!!!!!!!!!!! He is so fucking repressed and is trying so damn hard to be normal and the Ideal Husband and it gets to me. It's something I find so interesting about Kazui. He's a big liar but that's because he's repressed as all hell. He believes he was Born Wrong somehow. Born different.

It's another reason why I really like Queer Kazui interpretations. I think those feelings of having to "be a man" and live up to "manly ideals" and being the Most Normalest Normal Man Ever works really well with that depiction of him.

Kazui is trying to fit the societal standard of normal and is really jaded about it as a result. The idea of Ideal Het Love is just something he's selling to people. The concept of being the Ideal Man is an ad. That one interrogation where he says marriage is good for your social status. He's trying to keep up with society's standards in a world that feels hostile to someone like Him.

Sure he could Try to be himself, but that means inviting so much hate and pain and even possibly risking his life. Leaving the comfortable world of normalcy means Being In Danger.

And he's repressed his feelings for his entire life. It's second nature to him.

How can he pull apart who he is from the lies? Is there even a difference? Is he doomed to lie forever and ever? He certainly doesn't know. There's a sense of stagnation and stillness in a way. A sense of being stuck in place Forever.

All he knows for certain is that Something is Wrong With Him. And that Something is what Killed Hinako. The dream he has is something that is unachievable, as it should be.

(Sorry but these are Really Appropriate WKTD scenes)

12 has already been answered here!

13. any ideas on what would they and their MV be like if they got a different verdict in T1?

Well ignoring the obvious "oh shit if Kazui was guilty Mahiru might of straight up fucking died, same with Amane actually since Presumably Kazui and Mikoto stopping Kotoko is what prevented her from being attacked" I think Kazui might just be kinda resigned to it, he's really like that i think. Kazui is someone Incredibly Resigned to Bad Situations, he doesn't really make much effort to fix them because he doesn't think they Can be fixed. And if he Tried it would just get worse.

He tried to bare his heart to Es but I guess that just didn't work out...I dunno if he would be more honest or not in his MV though...since Kazui seems to have noticed now that he's inno that even his Lies get into the machine. Im really not sure.

[kariachi]

2 am fic! Oh look, Reboot!Kev pre-show! Featuring Kev being trans and his dad being... better than he could have been.

Warnings for shit parenting, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, that sorta jazz. Kevin's dad's an asshole, people are assholes, Kevin deserves better.

~~

“Eden’s been insisting on being called ‘Kevin’ for the past few weeks now.”

“Okay, and?”

“She’s been ignoring teachers when her name is called.”

“Does she answer to Kevin?”

“Yes-”

“Then there you go, problem solved.”

“She’s also been getting into fights with other children for using her name and treating her as a girl.”

“They’re gonna wanna stop doing that then.”

“Mr Levin, I don’t think you understand-”

“I understand you’ve got so much free time rather than just calling my brat by a new name you gotta drag me out of work for a whole-ass meeting. Gotta whine to me about my kid being mean instead of telling these other parents theirs are fucking morons picking fights.”

“Eden-”

“You said yourself, kid’s made it clear how he’s gonna be called, this point it’s on those other brats for pushing their luck.”

“Mr Levin, we can’t allow any student to just run roughshod over the rest of the school.”

“Well I don’t know what to tell you then, ‘cause I’m not telling my kid to kiss your ass just ‘cause you fuckers are too lazy to do your damn jobs. Now, if you don’t mind, some of us have shit to do.”

“Alright then. You should know Eden is suspended for the five days.”

“…” “…Kevin is suspended for the next five days. She won’t be allowed back in the school for that period.”

“Of-fucking-course not…”

~~

“And don’t you think this is some sorta vacation, I expect the house to be damn spotless if you’re gonna be home all day!”

Clutching the strap of his backpack like a lifeline, Kevin slipped out of the car, the slamming of the driver’s door shooting up his spine. He said nothing, careful not to fall too far behind as he shut his door and followed his grumbling father up the front steps. There were plenty of ways to guarantee a bad day would get worse, and a top one was him having to come in and talk to the principal. To the point Kevin preferred to just get detention- nobody expected meetings over detentions, and it meant he didn’t have to go home for another hour or more. But then, that was also assuming it was the normal reasons his dad got called in. He was dirty, he was getting into fights, he used too many bad words or words he knew weren’t bad but that got the grown-ups all antsy anyway.

Kevin knew perfectly well this hadn’t been one of the normal reasons. Some part of him had known it was coming ever since he’d taken those scissors to his hair. Since he’d gone to up Mr. Dilgard in homeroom and told him his name. Since Tina had called him a lesbian like she was calling him a worm and nearly lost a tooth. In all truth he’d been hoping that it all would just, never come up, that his dad would just completely miss the change.

His last birthday had included a new sweater that’d been at least three sizes too small and also Blue’s Clues themed- there’d been decent odds.

And instead there he was, shutting the door behind him, eyes on the floor as he turned inside. Catching sight of his dad’s worn work boots planted firmly in the middle of the entryway, gaze climbing up his jeans, passed the crossed arms to the cold, unimpressed frown on his face. Kevin could hear his heartbeat going too fast, his gut knotting, something lodging itself in his throat. It was always hard to tell just what was going to get thrown his way, from a half-hearted compliment to a cutting dismissal, waved off as not worth the time or insulted as a waste of it. The uncertainty hurt worse than usual.

“So, a boy, huh?” Cornered, he shoved the fear trying to claw up his windpipe as far down as he could. Drew himself up as large as possible, shoulders back, meeting his dad’s eyes. Clenched his teeth till they ached as he forced himself not to blink, not to waver. A silent dare even as something awful wrapped around his spine.

(He’d listened to all the horror stories, curled up under his covers at night. He’d still chopped off his 'pretty' hair until the word stopped ringing in his head.)

(He’d read all about the pros of sitting in the closet until you were far away from your family. He’d still thrilled at the feel of his name on his lips as he told all his teachers.)

(He’d never been made to feel or be by halves. Pretending to be somebody else damn well might have killed him.)

He wasn’t going to pretend to be sorry.

His dad huffed a breath of air through his nose.

“Well, at least you’ve got some balls on you,” he said. Some amount of weight fell off Kevin’s shoulders, he could almost hear it crashing to the floor. Still, he kept tight as a support cable as his dad’s arms dropped, the man turned and headed deeper into the house. He probably wasn’t going to get thrown out, or sent to some sort of asylum or something...

(Mr Levin didn’t do things by halves either, if he’d been angry there’d have been no question of it…)

“You wanna be a man then I expect you to act like it, no more crying, no more of that girly shit-”

It could have gone much worse.

[fairyhaven13]

Oof, relateable. I came out as a trans man in 2013 and lived as one for a year at the age of 16. My mom said i was not to take hormones or surgery till 18 and it made me LIVID. I almost went down rabbit holes of mailed/illegal T but chickened out

Nowadays im happy as a woman and dont want to change a thing. My desire to be a man came from misoginy and online pressure and from being a tomboy. Im just so, so glad my mothef held me back bc i absolutelt would have regretted permanent changes, maybe even hurt myself over it or worse

I absolutely support trans people but i believe other reasons need to be ruled out first esp among younger people

Yes, exactly! Thank you for sharing that! I know many people with your experience tend to be afraid of saying it because other people say you're transphobic for changing your mind. But your experience is a true and valid experience, and shouldn't be ignored.

A lot of people like you are stuck between a rock and a hard place. People close to them are dismissive of their differences from what's considered the "Norm," and so they look for support in other places and get told they must be trans. And it's all, "lol who's going to tell them?" Or, "I think I know something you're about to discover soon. ;)"

And so you try to find happiness in that new identity, so sure it will fix everything, and are so hurt when all that effort to go with people online and go against the people around you goes to nothing. Because people online said it would work! And people around you said, "see, I told you so." And so, what went wrong?

I'm so glad you found love in yourself and your differences after that. Our definition of what makes a gender normal is so tainted, and that's what went wrong for many people, is they think being a tomboy or a feminine man means you're trans. Or that you have to shun being a tomboy or feminine man to be normal. But you don't, you just learn to love yourself and be comfortable how you are.

For some people the way to do that is different than others, and I'm really happy you were able to discover how to do that yourself. It's wonderful that you're comfortable in your body and identity! Your experience is just as valid and it's something that needs to be acknowledged.

[wifekasa]

hello! i really enjoy ur content and i read that ur requests are open, so is it okay if i can request something where levi and the reader had an argument, and the rest of the scouts are very aware of it because of the very cold and scary aura coming from them, and so the squad tries various ways to set them up so they can make up with another? thank you!!😁

a/n: ahh first of all thank you! second off, i love this idea omg 🙏 also the reader is another captain!!

levi x reader

“don’t die on me.”

cw: swearing, one kiss scene, mentions of death (barely)

The scouts immediately knew something was wrong when you entered the dining area. It was like there was a dark aura floating around your body that caused everyone within a 4 foot vicinity of you to scatter away like startled birds. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your back was hunched. You stalked into the room and sank down beside Hange who seemed rather unfazed by your cold attitude.

“Oi. Y/N. What’s up with the murderous look in your eye? I think you made the scouts shit themselves.” They chuckled, biting into their bread and looking at you with a hint of amusement twinkling in their eyes.

You lip twitched downward as you scoffed, “Ask shorty.”

Hange made a noise of surprise that you ignored, turning back to your food. You were not in the mood to be pestered. Picking at your food with distain, you tuned out the rest of the room. Due to this, you missed the short raven-haired man walking into the room with the same cold presence that you were amitting. You felt his eyes burning holes into your head but refused to look up, you didn’t wanna give that bastard the time of day.

Levi scoffed when you ignored him, grabbing his plate and settling down at the opposite end of your table. Hange nearly rolled their eyes at the pettiness the two of you were displaying.

Clearing their throat, the titan enthusiast spoke up, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up.” You both countered in sync, still refusing to acknowledge eachother.

The two of you were too stubborn to admit that you were wrong. Maybe neither of you were in the wrong but after the shouting match that took place last night, you didn’t feel like immediately making amends. You had tried to express to Levi how scared you were that he was going to die on one of these missions, however your tone was quite harsh and Levi misread it. He took it as you not having faith in his abilities which was a punch to the gut for the stubborn Captain. He in return, argued that you were running the same risk on missions and since you weren’t nearly as strong as him, you had an even higher risk of getting hurt. Frustrated that he insulted your abilities and didn’t see your point, you stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind you.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since the blowup last night and it was now mid-afternoon the next day. You were in charge of training the scouts this afternoon and due to the anger boiling up inside of you, you put them through a particularly rigorous training course. All of them were clutching their sides and panting heavily when you finally dismissed them.

“Is it just me or does Captain Y/N seem a little harsh today?” Connie spoke up as he downed a glass of water.

“Yeah, that training course kicked my ass. I think they had a fight with Levi, I heard some of the soldiers talking about it.” Jean replied.

Sasha was quiet for a minute before she finally spoke up, “I have an idea!” She exclaimed with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That’s not good.” Armin commented quietly.

Later that night, Sasha had cornered you and told you there was scary noises coming from a broom closet and had asked for help checking it out. You reluctantly agreed, only because it was getting late and you wanted to get to bed. The two of you went to the closet, footsteps echoing across the quiet halls.

Entering the small room, you spoke, “Hmm. Sasha there’s nothing in here, are you sure-.” You got cut off due to the door being slammed in your face and locked shut.

Jiggling the handle aggressively, you yelled, “Sasha Braus I swear to god, if you don’t let me out of here it’s no bread for a week!”

Sasha gulped but stayed strong, hoping Armin was on his way with Levi. Ten minutes later, Armin showed up... without Levi. Sasha’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “Armin, where the hell is Levi?!”

Armin scratched the back of his neck, “He wouldn’t come. Said I should ‘get some balls and go look at the noise by myself’.”

Sasha sheepishly opened the door to a very angry Captain, crying as you yelled and told her she wasn’t getting bread for a week. You’d almost felt bad if it weren’t for the fact that several spiders decided to crawl up your leg while you were trapped inside the miserable closest.

The next day, you were in an even worse mood because of the broom closet accident. So, the scouts went back to planning the reunion of their two grumpy captains.

The new plan consisted of getting the two of you within ten feet of each other, which proved difficult. Eren and Jean would both ask for combat training from the two of you and hoped that maybe being close to each other would spark a conversation between you two.

However, the plan backfired when seeing eachother made the two of you even angrier so you both fought the boys aggressively which resulted in Jean and Eren laying on their asses as the two of you stalked off in seperate directions.

You were quite grumpy at this point, snapping at the smallest things and taking things out on the wrong people. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help it; it felt like everyone was trying to piss you off.

By now, Hange had grown tired of you and Levi’s negative energy and the beat-up scouts. So finally, they decided to step in.

They found you in your office working on paperwork and quickly grabbed your hand, rudely dragging you away from your work.

“What the hell Hange!” You exclaimed, trying to turn back to your work but Hange had a suprisingly strong grip.

“Sorry! But I need to show you this thing I’ve been working on. It’s urgent!” They explained as they pulled you through the halls. They stopped in front of a random room, opening the door and shoving you in.

“Oi, four eyes, where is the ‘urgent thing’ you needed to show me?” You gasped as you realized Levi was in the room that Hange had just thrown you into.

Levi’s eyes widened when he noticed you in the room and he started shaking his head, “Don’t you dare Hange-.”

SLAM.

Hange locked the door, leaving the two of you sitting alone in your tension. The silence was heavy as you avoided eye contact, plotting the many ways you could get back at the scientist for this later. You were so caught up in your own thoughts you didn’t even realize Levi was staring at you till he spoke up.

“Do you ever plan to let us talk this out or are you just gonna be an angry brat for the rest of your life?” His tone was cold.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his grey ones, searching them for any emotion but you were met with nothing, his walls were up. “What is there to talk about? You made it clear how you feel.”

“How I feel?” He questioned.

“That I’m not strong enough for you. Maybe I’m not humanity’s strongest but I’m talented and that deserves to be recognized. I’m not gonna let you shit on my talent just because I hurt your ego. Which by the way, I don’t even know why you thought I was attacking your skills. I just want you to be safe and I don’t know why you can’t just- MHPM.” Your rant was cut off midway by the feeling of warm lips against yours.

You froze for a moment before returning the kiss, running your hands up into his hair and opening your mouth to deepen the kiss. Levi’s hands snaked around you waist, pulling you tight against his chest. This continued for a few more seconds before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

Levi spoke up, “I know you’re a talented soldier, it’s something I really respect about you. I shouldn’t have phrased it the way I did, I just... I don’t want to lose you. So, I want you to be the best because then, my chances of loosing you are less.” You looked at him in shock.

His grey eyes showed love and ... fear. The fear of loosing you like he’d lost so many. Your chest tightened at the sight. Tears pricked in your eyes as you pulled him into another hug.

“You don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’m gonna fight with everything I got to make sure I come home to you. You just make sure you do the same, don’t go dying on me.” Your speech was slightly muffled by his shirt but he nodded nonetheless.

“Yay! The lovebirds finally made up! Good! I was worried you were gonna kill the scouts.” Hange laughed from the other side of the now opened door.

a/n: this ain’t the greatest but i wrote it at midnight so yk 😐👋

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

If you're free can you please do Fugitives part 3? 🥺 ik you posted it just a while ago, BUT IT'S SO GOOD😭 can't wait till Villian is healed up again!! 😭

Thank you so much for the ask!

Fugitives Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

@teheranb I didn't know if you wanted to be tagged in this continuation or not.

I apologize this is shorter than normal, but I liked how it ended.

Warnings: exhaustion, lack of trust, malnourished, fatigue, forced loss of consciousness

~

After only a second, Villain's breaths quickened, but he did not wake. Some color returned to his pale face, but that was it.

"Who are you?" Hero asked, protectively wrapping her body around Villain's with a glare to her face.

"The person who is saving you," the masked stranger grumbled in reply, positioning himself to lift Villain off the cave's cold floor.

"No!" Hero exclaimed, pressing her hand against Villain's chest in a sporadic attempt to keep him close to her. "Don't touch him."

"He needs medical assistance, that serum won't heal him," the stranger said, taking Hero's hand and easily placing it at her side. She bristled, preparing to lash out, but the man held her weakened body back.

"Don't exert yourself," he instructed. "We still have a ways to walk."

"Don't touch him," Hero growled. She knew that she wasn't being reasonable. She knew that the stranger was just trying to help, but maybe she was just overly protective of Villain to the point of not letting even good people touch him.

"I have to," the stranger pointed out. "We need to move and you are barely strong enough to walk yourself."

The man was right. Hero knew this, but it was still uneasy. Therefore, she picked the upper half of his limp form up and laid it closer to her. The stranger sighed, rubbing his mask.

"Listen," he said. "I'm trying to be reasonable. Let me help you."

Hero pressed her cheek into Villain's neck, throwing her legs over Villain's knees. She could feel Villain's chest falling and rising against her's and took comfort in it.

"Don't hurt him," Hero whimpered, tears pricking at her eyes.

"I won't, I won't, I promise," the stranger replied.

"What if you're a hero?" Hero whined pathetically. "Going to kill us?"

"I'm not a hero!" The stranger was on his hands and knees now, desperation vividly apparent. "Let me help you."

Hero shook her head. She couldn't let this man hurt Villain.

"Relax," the stranger murmured. "Let me help you. Let me help him."

Hero shook her head.

"Relax."

Another shake.

"Then I am sorry about this," the stranger apologized. Hero just had a brief moment of thought before two hands encassed her head, the word "sleep" uttered, and then all went black.

Hero awoke to the soft crackling of a nearby firestove. She groaned, body aching and incredibly tired, but she felt more rested and peaceful than ever. She started to roll onto her side to get a couple more minutes of sleep, but her eyes shot open instead.

Villain. The stranger. Villain and the stranger.

Hero rolled back over, nearly falling of the cot she was laid upon, and looked hurriedly around.

A fireplace was in the corner, fueled by a moderately stocked pile of wood, with a large stone in front of it. There were woven mats of ivy and sticks in a diamond shape- giving the table four- laid upon the smooth surface.

And in front of the fire, on a cot, laid Villain.

Hero jumped off of the cot, ignoring how her legs immediately turned to jelly and how her vision turned into pins of black, and stumbled over to Villain. She bumped into the oddly placed stone on her way over and was more than thankful when her knees buckled next to Villain.

She didn't say anything, just laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Sleep was coming near, but one thought infiltrated her hazy mind.

The stranger would be coming.

But still, sleep took her back under and all those thoughts washed away.

When Hero came to once again, she almost instantly came to the conclusion that she was not reclining against Villain anymore. With an experimental tap to the hard, but comfortable, block below her, she knew that she was back on the cot.

"Villain?" She whimpered, feeling around aimlessly for any signs of her companion, but found none. He was gone, and she didn't have the strength nor the resolve to open her eyes and look for him.

"Good you're awake."

That brought her out of her exhausted bindings.

Hero's eyes snapped open, darting to the figure looming above her. He was familiar even though he didn't have a mask on.

"You're a hero!" She gasped, pulling away. "You-you made me sleep. You're powered, unless you're a villain... oh don't hurt me. Don't hurt him. Please I'm begging you, just leave us alone. Just... just..." Hero trailed off as she felt her head nod, head feeling fuzzy. She was so tired and hungry.

"Shh, shh, shh," the stranger whispered. "Stop that. Rest, okay? You need it. Villain is in good hands, I assure you."

"No, no, no," Hero crunched her forehead. "He isn't. He is going to be arrested and tortured and experimented on. Leave him alone, please. Let me have him... have him, see him."

Hero knew her pleas were that of pure nonsense.

"You want to see him? You can. Okay? Just here, let me help you," the stranger's arms wrapped around her body.

Hero flinched, a miniscule protest against the gesture. She wouldn't let him carry her. Not to the other heroes to dispose of her.

"Let me help you."

"No," Hero growled, eyeing the stranger with angled eyes. "Never."

The stranger backed up, opening his arms in an invitation to walk herself. Hero accepted it, rotating both legs off the bed and pushing up...

She landed in the strangers arms, one wrapping around her back as the other hugged her torso.

"Let me go!" Hero snarled, legs splaying outwards. "Now!"

"Don't you want to see Villain."

"I don't want you touching me, hero."

The stranger was silent as he hauled Hero back into the cot. "Okay then lay here and I will bring Villain to you."

"No! Carry me, carry me to him. Just don't touch him."

The stranger smiled wryly and picked Hero up in a bridal carry. She briefly registered the strength of his biceps, but quickly dismissed that discovery.

The stranger led her back to the fireplace, and helped her to the ground. Villain still slept there, but something was different about him.

His shirt was stripped off, allowing the two bullet wounds to be exposed to the air around him. His ribs protruded out of his skin as his torso sunk in. He was heavily malnourished, and being sick and hurt did nothing more than speed of the process of utter starvation.

His face was still ghostly pale, but Hero couldn't tell if it was better or worse than their time spent in the cave. Two blotches of red sat high on his cheekbones as sweat gathered under his eyes and around his hairline.

"He looks horrible," Hero commented, leaning against the cot. She sat on her knees, but those soon gave out, and she was sitting completely on the ground.

"You don't look much better," the stranger took a place across from Hero, his back towards the fire.

Hero didn't reply and ran a finger over Villain's cheek. His eyelids fluttered before opening, gazing at Hero with a clouded gaze.

"Heh-heh," he wheezed, reaching towards her weakly.

"Villain?" Hero's voice was elevated into a high octave as tears threatened to spill. She grabbed his hand and rubbed it tenderly.

Villain's eyes started to drift shut again as a smile formed on his lips.

"I'm tired," he mumbled drowsily, eyes once again cracking open.

"Me too," Hero said. "Me too."

She closed her eyes and scooted herself so that her head rested on the mattress, needing Villain's closeness. Villain seemed to desire it as well, as he curled himself towards her body.

Hero barely heard the stranger stand up as he left, but did feel the softness of a blanket as it was draped across her body.

"My name is Vigilante," the stranger whispered as Hero snuggled into the blanket. "Sleep tight."

[airashisakura]

Pregnancy Diaries

Chapter 1 - Ball of Fur

Rating : General audience

Relationships : Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura

Summary : Sasuke wakes up one fine morning and finds Sakura missing.

FFN Ao3

This lovely art was a birthday gift from @something-like-air Also thanks to @ayuumaku for drawing this cute and beautiful art💖

The light peeking through the curtains of the rented room stirred the raven haired shinobi out from his slumber. He groaned and refused to get up from half-awake state as his lone hand traveled to the other side of the bed to clutch his wife and hide his face in the nook of her shoulder.

Every morning he inhaled her saccharine scent that invigorated him to face a new day. The day itself was bright and sunny, just like her smile. It had become a habit for Sasuke to snuggle before all his senses kicked in to continue for the coming day. But today, his hands were kissed good morning by an empty sheet. He sprang up from his sleepy state, partly bewildered and partly scared.

After Sakura became part of his journey, they had been camping mostly under open skies and after regular intervals they would settle in at an inn - to refill their basic supplies and to indulge in intimate acts after they set out again. But this morning routine was never missed. Even in woods and in unknown terrains, Sasuke somehow made sure to indulge himself in this pleasure. And now back from a few weeks, they'd been sleeping in warm bed and futons more often. It had become crucial too! Although Sakura didn't mind and persuaded Sasuke not to, Sasuke couldn't stop fretting over spending nights in the middle of nowhere when his wife was about 9 weeks pregnant and combating early symptoms of pregnancy like unexplainable tiredness, random headaches, and unusual abdominal cramps and backaches.

And here he is... His pregnant wife was missing from the bed. His concern about her health pushed him out of his torpid state. He knocked on the door of the washroom since her morning sickness was getting worse day by day. Sakura wasn't there either. And now missing from the room they stayed at the night with no note of her leaving abruptly. Sasuke tried sensing her chakra, but it was of no use. It brought two possibilities in his mind - either she had some urgent errands to run in the village, or she was in trouble. Uchiha Sasuke had never felt his fingers running cold, but he was confident that if it had been the latter one, Sakura would have left some clues. He trusted his wife's skills and intellect. He dressed up quickly in his full shinobi attire, and he rushed outside to inspect more.

Sasuke was planning to look thoroughly around the whole village. He knew very well that Sakura could take care of anyone who might try to hurt her, but her current condition worried him. He was about to leave the inn when he considered asking about her whereabouts at the reception desk, where an old lady sat sipping tea, complaining about her old-age.

Sasuke furrowed his brow at the thought of initiating a conversation with people. That was something Sakura was good at, and she usually took the responsibility wherever they went. Well, Damn you Sakura!

"Excuse me?" Sasuke tapped on the counter to get the lady's attention.

The lady looked suspiciously at him from above the rim of her round glasses.

"Have you seen a woman around my age?" Sasuke was trying to be more distinctive while describing his wife. "Pink hair and green eyes."

The suspicion in the lady's face grew dark. "What business do you have with her?" She retorted back.

What! I was with her when we checked in yesterday! Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh. "I am her husband."

"Oh?" The woman began to complain again about her old age and regressing memory.

Sasuke was losing it now. He had no idea where Sakura was or what even happened to her! He was regretting this useless interaction when the lady screeched at top of her voice.

"Sakura-chan is so good and beautiful."

Sasuke raised his eyebrows, but more and more anger built up as the lady hadn't told if she had seen his wife or not!

"Come with me, boy." The old lady got off from the seat as she muttered and cursed about her backache.

Sasuke bluntly followed her with his usual aloof expression. The old lady started walking towards the stairs. Sasuke was perplexed to find out that Sakura was still somewhere in the inn, yet relieved as he ticked off all the dangerous possibilities he'd been able to conjure. They crossed the first floor where their allotted room was, then she took the stairs to the second floor. The old lady's sluggish movements and the beats of her walking stick against the wooden stairs were testing his patience.

This is terrible, Sasuke cursed inwardly as he realized how impatient he could grow when he couldn't feel Sakura's skin or her chakra. Although the latter wasn't Sakura's fault, he was one to suggest hiding their chakras after she got pregnant to prevent any enemy ambush.

Finally, Sasuke's patience was rewarded when the old lady pointed towards her. Sakura was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the balcony of an unrented room. She was in her regular civilian dress, carrying the Uchiha sigil at her back. The very evidence that Sasuke had rebuilt his family. But the scars of losing it all over were still fresh after all these years.

Yesterday, when they had checked in, they'd been asked to rent this room, but Sakura dismissed the offer since having an attached balcony would have added extra charges.

But what business does she have here!

"You're really lucky. Take good care of her."The old lady smiled with the few teeth she had.

Sasuke nodded gratefully before the lady walked away, leaving them alone.

Sasuke walked towards her. As he scooted near her, he saw Sakura. Her dilated pupils were beautifully set within her orbs, plump pink lips parted in astonishment, her cheeks resting on her palms with curiosity even rivaling that of a child. Sasuke's gaze followed with her to the source of her amazement.

A cat? He noticed the cat had an abnormally large belly. Now, he was done with deducing things!

"Sakura?"

"This cat is pregnant!"Sakura spoke with a little thrill in her voice.

"What are you doing here? And why didn't you leave a note?" His frustration came upon her, but he accused himself of being insensitive when Sakura turned to face him with a small pout forming on her lips.

Has she become more beautiful? Sasuke's heart thumped in his chest.

"Sorry, Sasuke-kun. I felt nauseous so I got out of bed and then I heard this poor thing yowling."She pointed towards the cat. She carefully patted on the female feline's round distended belly and continued, "I couldn't find out then from where the sound was coming. So I asked the old lady at reception about this in the morning and she brought me here. This cat might have somehow climbed up here but couldn't get down later."

Sasuke listened to her long explanation as he noticed she brought some food with her to feed the cat.

"And a note?"

"Well, I forgot to write one." She sheepishly admitted, scratching the back of her neck.

Sasuke glared at her. Sakura made her puppy face to cool down his wrath. Nevertheless, he gave up on his anger and sat beside her.

Sakura got again into her business of observing and caressing the cat. Sasuke noticed every feature of her alluring face that twinkled with happiness as she explained that the cat was going to deliver in a day or two. And other things he ignored, as usual, when he stared at her.

"Sasuke-kun, did you see that?" Sakura's voice spiked in excitement again, bringing Sasuke from his wandering state. He was reluctant to remove his eyes from her, but she coaxed him to look at the cat.

"See?" Sakura merrily pointed to a part of the cat's belly, which was momentarily raised by a little bump before leveling up again with the belly.

Sasuke literally had no idea what had just happened, but Sakura could make out by his face that he was scared like anything.

Sakura chuckled as she explained, "You see, one of the babies inside her kicked." And now her laugh diminished to a gentle smile settling on her lips as his cheeks turned crimson.

Sasuke's gaze followed towards her belly, which is still taut with no physical sign of new life sprouting inside her. But he remembered Sakura telling him that in the coming months it was going to expand and would be more visible.

Sakura held him by his wrist and placed his palm on her lower abdomen. "You know, this little one will also move and kick from the coming months." The shade of her cheeks deepened and Sasuke gawked.

"Would that hurt?" Sasuke asked her.

Sakura giggled. "Sometimes, it would. It depends on the baby's position in the womb." She explained as well as she could in medical terms. The perks of being a medic-nin!

"But it would be great to feel the baby move," she sighed dreamily.

It was still difficult for him to imagine that months later he would be a father. An unknown relationship that would come to existence - a new member of his family. This reminded him of the family he once had. He once thought nothing could revive the feelings of the family that he lost, yet here he was with the one who would gift him a new life. A new life carrying both of their parts.

"Ne Sasuke-kun, can we stay for a few more days till I see her kittens?" She understood that she accompanied Sasuke in his journey, promising that she wouldn't be a reason to halt him, but the newly surging maternal hormones urged her to.

"Aah," he paused and added, "We will shift to this room."

"Eh? Sasuke-kun, you don't…" Before she could complete her sentence, Sasuke pulled her closer and kissed gently on her forehead.

Sakura adjusted her position as she wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest as Sasuke dipped his head in the crook of her neck, enjoying the closeness that he had missed that morning.

*******

Again, after two mornings, Sasuke found himself in bed alone when he woke up, but he knew now where Sakura was. He lazily dragged himself to the balcony where Sakura was seated on the floor. Sasuke sat beside her, looking towards the new wooly creatures, snuggling close to their mother. The cat had delivered a litter of kittens a day before and she was now busy in feeding her newborns.

After the cat was done, Sakura patted her and set a kitten on her lap. She scratched the head of the little being with fingers while she said, "I won't hold you here any longer. The kittens are well, so we can move now."

But something caught Sasuke's attention. He looked carefully towards the kitten that was on Sakura's lap. A pair of innocent emerald eyes stared back at him. Its body was covered with white fur except the head, which had shining black fur. Sasuke felt unexpected familiarity within that unfamiliar creature.

Could it be? Sasuke thought. An Uchiha with green eyes?

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura nudged him out of his thoughts.

Sasuke blinked back and responded, "Aah."

Yes to Sakura's question and a yes to his own thought. He didn't think it wouldn be bad if his child got Sakura's eyes.

Sakura gave him a questioning look. Sasuke tapped on her forehead and stood up, saying, "Let's get going then."

Sakura blushed at his gesture.

She ruffled the mama cat's fur, earning a purr from her. Sasuke lent his hand as Sakura carefully got off from the floor, the other hand resting on her belly.

Sakura flinched in pain as she stood. "Ouch, my back hurts," she whined, rubbing her lower back.

"Hn. Just like that old lady."

Sakura narrowed her eyes on her insult, but she laughed it off.

Never had either of them thought someone's arrival could provide them with extra happiness they had never asked for!

Chapter 2

[sanjisock]

more than words

50 words; 50 sentences

ao3

#01 - Motion

A spinning kick, a swing of blade — the two meet and hit but don’t hurt, and Nami sighs exasperatedly at such a pathetic display of a mating dance.

#02 - Cool

Zoro stands his ground as his enemy — finally, finally — falls unceremoniously on his back, unconscious, and Sanji thinks for a moment that the sight of Zoro — wild and victorious and ready to take on the world — looks kind of, maybe, slightly cool.

  #03 - Young

Brook sees the two — dying to die for each other, the weight of their friends’ lives pulling down their shoulders — and he thinks too many people forget how young they still are.

  #04 - Last

The Cook is the last person Zoro would consider lending a hand in a fight — “who would want to work together with that dumbass anyway,” he lies whenever anyone asks, and doesn’t admit that it’s because he trusts Sanji’s ability to stand his ground, wholly and fully.

  #05 - Wrong

Sanji knows Zoro, like him, understands better than most — that this nakama thing isn’t just something you’d die for, but something you’d kill for, too.

  #06 - Gentle

Sanji manages to catch Kitetsu before it rolls off from the deck during a storm, and in that moment, Zoro knows, from the reverent way he regards the swords in his hands, that this isn’t the first time the Cook has wielded one.

  #07 - One

“Calm down, Marimo,” Sanji says with a dismissive wave of his hand when Zoro asks about the sword a few days later, “I’m not about to take your place as the ship’s swordsman; a cook doesn’t use his hands to fight, and I had a terrible teacher anyways.”

  #08 - Thousand

“I’m worth two thousand men,” Zoro grumpily says, almost sulking, and Nami can’t resist patting his head like she would to a little boy pulling the pigtail of a girl he has a crush on.

  #09 - King

You’re like the prince of Dumbass Kingdom, Zoro says, and it takes Sanji everything in him not to blurt out, Dumbass Kingdom sounds about right; wait ‘till you see the fucking king.

  #10 - Learn

Watching Sanji converse fluently with a couple of tourists in a Northern language, Zoro wonders when he will ever stop learning something new about Sanji — or if he ever will, at all.

  #11 - Blur

When Zoro finally comes to, the wounds from Bartholomeow Kuma is muted by Chopper’s medicine, a dull throb at the back of his consciousness; but the sharp pain against his heart feels raw still, visceral and razor-sharp, tucked alongside the ache of Sanji’s sacrifice.

#12 - Wait

“Wait,” he manages to croak out before Sanji flees the room, the word spilling out unbidden; he isn’t quite sure why, but he knows that he wants the Cook to stay.

  #13 - Change

“Have some fucking decency ,” Sanji yells, throwing a shirt at Zoro’s direction; the brute has been walking around the ship bare-chested like an eyesore ever since they entered the summer island, and Sanji is just trying to do everyone a favor — and definitely not because there’s a different kind of heat pooling at the pit of his stomach.

#14 - Command

Robin watches the two in amusement — Zoro could have easily refused to be Sanji’s pack mule, and she can hear him grumbling about it still; and yet, here they are, once again, together at the island’s marketplace.

#15 - Hold

Sanji is rough around the edges, bristling at the slightest touch; Zoro knows he needs to be gentle, but he doesn’t quite remember the last time he held something that isn’t a hilt of a sword, without meaning to hurt . It’s a learning curve. 

  #16 - Need

Sanji knows Zoro is a dumbass, but it takes a special kind of stupid to think he would never be good enough for Sanji, when he’s all that Sanji has ever needed.

#17 - Vision

Zoro never regrets losing his eye, but he wishes, sometimes, he could still take in the sight of Sanji with an unimpaired vision, just to see more of him.

  #18 - Attention

“You’re starting a fight, Marimo?” Sanji growls, voice low and dangerous, and Zoro thinks, yes, yes, anything to get you to look at me.

  #19 - Soul

He loves the kid like a brother, but sometimes Zoro hates how Luffy can easily see past his gruff words and feigned ignorance; the way Luffy only needs to take one look at him to guess, “you’re worried about Sanji, aren’t you?”

  #20 - Picture

He carries around everyone’s bounty posters, Sanji tells himself, and tries not to think too hard about how the only one he kept in his breast pocket is Zoro’s, folded neatly against his heart.

  #21 - Fool

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done so far,” Sanji says when they part, lips still tingling from their earlier kiss, because Zoro’s love is fierce and consuming and Sanji knows, ever since he was just a kid with the iron mask, that he doesn’t deserve any of this.

  #22 - Mad

“Don’t you ever say that kind of shit again,” Zoro snarls, slamming the wall beside Sanji’s head, his voice trembling with a kind of anger Sanji has never seen him with before — frustrated, desperate. “You’re important to me, Cook.” 

  #23 - Child

Grow up and cast your dreams away, Sanji tells himself every day, the voice ringing in his ears; you stopped being a child deserving of a dream the moment you chained Zeff down to the ground.

  #24 - Now

Grow up and cast your dreams away, Sanji wants to tell himself, but the voice stutters, drowned out by the sight of the kid bleeding on the deck of Baratie — he’s a swordsman, too, acknowledged by none other than Dracule Mihawk himself — but a kid still, throwing himself headfirst towards the case of his dreams, steps unweighted by regrets.

  #25 - Shadow

Zoro doesn’t know which is worse — Sanji, forever running away from the shadow his brothers cast; or Zoro, chasing after someone who is no longer around to leave behind a shadow anymore.

  #26 - Goodbye

After Whole Cake Island, there’s a period of time where Zoro would follow Sanji around the ship like a lost puppy, unwilling to let the Cook out of his sight; Usopp definitely didn’t expect Zoro to have such a cute side, and crouches over his new invention to hide his smile.

  #27 - Hide

“We’re not doing that here,” Sanji hisses, and forces himself not to laugh at the pout on Zoro’s face; the galley might be secluded enough, but they’re still on the enemy ship’s galley.

  #28 - Fortune

It is annoying, the way Sanji keeps reminding Zoro that he could have collected Mihawk’s bounty and lived the rest of his life in wealth; especially when Zoro would trade any riches in the world just to stay by the Cook’s side.

  #29 - Safe

It catches Zoro off guard when Sanji starts talking about his mother; it’s a short anecdote, a single happy memory, but Zoro can tell by the way Sanji tells it — guarded and hesitant, like he wants to keep the words close and safe — that he has never shared it with anyone else before.

  #30 - Ghost

Usopp starts shaking like a leaf as soon as they enter the abandoned, dilapidated house, and Sanji gently tells him, sometimes the worst ghost is the one you create yourself; Zoro feels the weight of Wado on his hip, and agrees.

  #31 - Book

“I don’t need this,” Zoro grumbles with a blush, pushing the book back into Nami’s hands, trying hard to ignore Nami’s laughter and the words ROMANCE FOR DUMMIES emblazoned on the book’s jacket.

  #32 - Eye

Shusui sinks into the man’s stomach, all the way to the hilt, and Zoro thinks of the way Sanji curled into himself as the man landed a lucky hit on the cook’s hand. An eye for an eye.

  #33 - Never

“This is my first time,” Zoro whispers, head ducking away as he feels his face flush at the admission; but Sanji’s hand rests on his cheek, encouraging, and he can feel the curve of Sanji’s smile as their lips meet and Sanji replies, “it’s mine, too.”

  #34 - Sing

Luffy cheers when Zoro and Sanji comes into view, and he lets them take on the next batch of enemies; a good fight is always fun, but watching Zoro and Sanji fight is even more so — like watching a dance that only those two know the melody to.

  #35 - Sudden

“What, are we supposed to be surprised?” Nami says, barely looking up from the map she’s working on; Sanji sputters, face redder than the tomatoes he served during breakfast, and Nami feels almost bad for him.

  #36 - Stop

“But we — Zoro and I — how did you know?” Sanji asks, and promptly stops asking questions when he realizes the rest of the crew aren’t surprised either; who could blame them, when his and Zoro’s sexual tension can be seen from a mile away.

  #37 - Time

Sanji knows they have to break apart soon, just to breathe, but right now all he cares about is to taste as much of Zoro as possible — he has waited two years for this, and it has been two years too long.

  #38 - Wash

They have their fair share of fighting — and how, considering the amount of repairs Usopp has to do for Merry just from their petty fights alone — but what the crew doesn’t know is that they also have this thing, this quiet thing, just him and the Cook and a stack of dirty plates between them.

  #39 - Torn

“In retrospect,” Robin observes, “dressing up our dear cook in a maid uniform would not only lower the enemy’s firepower, but also ours, considering how distracted our swordsman has clearly become.”

  #40 - History

“Why do you keep him around, mister?” The kid asks, pointing at the old swordsman with three swords and an eye scar by the peer; Sanji laughs, pats the kid on the head, and says, almost wistfully — “you can say we have some history.”

  #41 - Power

Sanji tugs at Zoro’s sleeve, and Zoro follows suit despite his complaints — Sanji thinks, distantly, how much of an honor it is, to have so much control over such a powerful man.

  #42 - Bother

“I didn’t have enough time to make this three-tier ice cream cake for our lovely Nami-san and Robin-chan because you distracted me!” Sanji says with a hard jab of a finger against Zoro’s chest, and Zoro thinks, good .

  #43 - God

Zoro does not believe in gods, but there’s a hymn of a noise when Zoro presses his lips against the crook of Sanji’s neck, the hallelujah of the world breaking apart as their bodies move together, and he thinks, close enough .

  #44 - Wall

 Zoro slams his fist into the wall of Polar Tang, and is taken aback by the depth of his own frustration; he knows Luffy and the others will get Sanji back from Big Mom’s place, but it unsettles him still, the way Sanji hides himself under layers of pretenses when Zoro has bared so much of himself to the Cook in return.

  #45 - Naked

“What the fuck was that for , Mosshead?!” Sanji shrieks, justifiably furious, leg raised and on fire after Zoro sliced his tray into two without preamble; Zoro can’t exactly tell the Cook he did it because he was too surprised at the sight of Sanji in a swimming trunk and nothing else.

  #46 - Drive

Why Zoro , people sometimes ask, but the answer is easy to Sanji — nobody drives him crazy the way Zoro does, and is that not what true love feels like?

  #47 - Harm

Zoro knows Sanji will be furious ; but as he faces Kuma, knowing at least the Cook is out of harm’s way, he knows he would do this a hundred times over, a thousand times over, a million times over.

  #48 - Precious

Sanji is sitting by the corner of the infirmary, face pale with red-rimmed eyes, and Zoro thinks he’s never had that, before — people who would weep for him, knowing that he is more than dried scars and calloused skin.

  #49 - Hunger

This thing we have is dangerous, Sanji tells him, but Zoro doesn’t care — he already has a craving, the same way he needs a booze when it’s been too long, except he thinks that this vice will surely kill him.

  #50 - Believe

This isn’t faith; this is the truth, Zoro’s truth, the same way he knows he will become the Greatest — Sanji will find that elusive sea of his, and Zoro will stay with him until it is the last thing he can do.

[travellingarmy]

║Kaeya║A Cold War

Gender-neutral.

Word count: 3k

---

You two had been at it for quite some time now. The war between you and the Cavalry Captain, Kaeya, didn't look like it was going to end any time soon. "Honestly, this has gone for far too long that it's silly at this point," Lisa sighs, watching the two of you from afar. "When are they going to make up?" Jean, who stood beside the librarian, nodded in agreement.

You and Kaeya had crossed paths in front of the fountain in the centre of the city one fateful morning. Snarling and angry at the sight of the male, you turned around with a huff and walked away. Although he was your captain, you two clearly showed a much stronger relationship than commander and knight; you two were friends until the fight two weeks ago.

Kaeya sighs at your retreating figure and walked over to the two, tall females who he had noticed was watching. "Good morning," he greets, a hand raised and a smile on his face. "Kaeya, when are you two going to talk?" Lisa asks, a concerned expression on her face.

He shrugs, pretending not to care of the matter. "Who knows?" he simply say. "Anyway, if that's all you're going to talk about, I'd rather get going with my missions." The Cavalry Captain walks away without letting either of the two say anything. Lisa sighs at the retreating captain. "Both of them really are like couple in quarrel," she states, resting her cheeks on her hands. "I find it very cute." Lisa keeps going on about how you two acted like a couple even though you two obviously weren't. Jean looks over at the witch with dismay and shook her head.

You and Kaeya really showed the citizens of Mondstadt of how you two were at war at each other. Kaeya had started to become a grouch and cold while you were fuming with a fit of anger and it showed in everything you do- from training and wiping out hilichurls to simply eating and easy chores.

"We should get (Y/N) to do something else right now, rather than let them wait for Kaeya's orders," Jean says, knowing that even if Kaeya got a mission for you, you won't even listen to him and go do your own thing. It was also bad for you to linger around the city and throw passionate anger into everything you do as citizens reports how an underling of the Cavalry Captain is scaring away people- be it customers or the people themselves.

You were heading off to the training area to train even more. Although you were kind of sore from training from morning till night yesterday, it didn't keep you from training today so that you can make the blue-haired male take back the words he said to you two weeks ago. "You're not capable in doing these alone!" The words rung repeatedly in your head and made you even more angrier, but mostly saddened.

As much as you appreciate Kaeya's concern of your safety, it can sometimes make you question your worth. What are you good for if you are basically told to sit back and do nothing? That's not why you became a knight in the first place; you wanted to seek thrill while protecting the citizens of Mondstadt and you won't improve if he tells you to slack off.

"(Y/N)," a voice calls from behind you, stopping you on your way to the training grounds. You turned around to see the Acting Grand Master with a couple sheets of paper. You guessed it was most likely missions for you. "Are these tasks?" you ask, no sign of hostility in your tone as you spoke with the blonde.

"Yes, we're short of hands right now and was hoping you could take a look at them," she said and hands you over the papers. It is true that since the Grand Master took most of the knights, there aren't a lot of knights left in the city. But, the tasks given to you can be given to any other knights at any time; Jean just wants to help you clear your mind. "Okay, I will. Thank you!" A flare of determination and excitement reflected your hyped tone.

Jean smiles before waving bye and getting to her own things. You look at the papers in hand, seeing that some would take longer than others, but can still be done all today. Not caring to read the full details, you headed to the locations written and wipe out any and all enemies.

In the end, you did clear them all and felt really proud of yourself that you managed to do all tasks alone. You kind of wanted to boast at Kaeya's face but you were too prideful let that happen.

You were making your way inside the city, now late at night, feeling even more sore than yesterday. Although it was hurting you, it felt rewarding since you haven't done this much moving around under Kaeya's orders.

When you got home, you went straight to your bedroom, rather than eating dinner and washing up. You felt the stinging soreness wash over your body when you were taking of your shirt. "Ack!" You immediately lower your arms as a reaction to the pain. "I should deal with this.." you mumbled. You decided to deal with it tomorrow since you don't have the energy to do so tonight.

The next day, you went to the training field, albeit still sore from two days worth of strained movements. The pain really made you question if you had done anything at all to contribute to the Knights of Favonius; you see the Acting Grand Master put her all into everything and the build up of stress and strain on her, Outrider Amber running around and helping anyone who she comes across and scouting areas around Mondstadt, and even the traveller from some place else is doing something much greater such as helping Dvalin, but what about you? You felt miserable.

You headed to the Knights of Favonius' headquarters to see if Jean could give you some missions for today. You knocked on the door lightly and entered when you hear a quick and muffled 'come in'. "Good morning. Sorry to bother you this early in the morning, Acting Grand Master," you started, closing the door behind you. "I was wondering if you could give me any more tasks?"

Jean looks up from her work and smiled. "Ah, (Y/N), good morning," she says. "I heard you came back late last night. Did I give you too much to work?" You shook your head immensely. "No, no, it's just the trips that made it long."

"I see. Well, I don't have any missions right now.. Why don't you see Kaeya and ask if he has any for you?" Jean says nonchalantly as she discreetly adds, pretending she doesn't know what is going on between you and him. Your head slightly drops at the mention of his name. You didn't want to go to him- not now, at least. "Ah, he probably doesn't have any either. It's fine, I'll do some training on my own," you said and left the headquarters.

When you said that you'll train on your own, you mean to go search for some dangers that will help you improve. You still are feeling sore all over but dismiss it. You did, however, applied some essential oil to help relieve your muscle pain and thought that that alone would help. You headed out of the city's wall and looked for some tough opponents.

Kaeya's eyes narrowed as he saw you leaving through the gates, a worrisome feeling in his guts, but he wasn't going to let that feeling in the pit of his stomach get to him. He felt that he was in the right and that you were too stubborn. Your stubbornness and prideful personality made him really irritated, but he felt sad that you two didn't get to chat like before.

He shrugs his shoulders and went to bother anyone who he sees- most likely Diluc, who was at Angel's Share at the moment.

Nightfall started to set in and you hadn't returned- no sightings of you ever walking around the streets since thos morning. Kaeya wasn't aware of this since he thought you were home like he had always expected of you. It wasn't until the next day when he was summoned to the headquarters by Jean that he knew of your absence since yesterday. "Hey, what did you call me for?" Kaeya says, his usual, playful smirk on his face. However, that fell when he saw Jean and Lisa's expression and feel the atmosphere of the room. "What is it now?" His stomach started to churn in an awful feeling and only one thing was on his mind- you.

"It's about (Y/N)," Jean starts off, making Kaeya starting to feel even worse. "A ruin guard has been found awoken near the Thousand Wind Temple by someone in the Adventurers Guild and no one has seen (Y/N) since yesterday morning. I have a feeling that they are the one who woken it up."

Upon hearing the news, he clenches his fists and his jaws tightened, a shadowed cast over his face as he narrowed his eyes. But, "What does this have to do with me?" he asks coldly. Lisa and Jean looks over at each other with a concerned expression. "Kaeya--" Lisa started off but was immediately caught of by the male.

"They said that they can handle anything so shouldn't you two put some faith in them as well?" he said, raising his voice in anger, recalling what you said to him two weeks ago. "Kaeya, I am aware of the fight you two had but this has honestly gone for far too long that it's silly," Jean says in a calm tone. "Isn't the reason why you don't allow them on dangerous missions is because you care about them?" This hit Kaeya and he hang his head low. It was true that he cares about you deeply and doesn't show the same feeling to anybody else but you.

He imagined scenarios of situations you could be in right now and it made that feeling inside him snap. He turns around and storms off, shutting the door with a boom.

Praying. He was praying to the Archons of your safety as he feels something went trailing down his face from his eyes. It was blurring his vision but he ignores them, running through the darken day.

When he reached to the location of the sightings, he found the ruin guard, awake and walking, but no signs of you. He quickly disposed of the ruin guard and searched the area for you or anything that was on you that dropped that might give him some hope.

A few metres away, there your body lie on the cold ground. "(Y/N)!" Kaeya runs over to your side and felt his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. You were all bruised up along with scratches and blood that was either still running from open wounds or had already dried up. Your eyes were closed and he worried for the worse. Rushing to kneel beside you, heb helped you sit up against a rock, putting his hands under your chin to feel for a pulse. To his relief, he found it beating and pulled your body into his chest, one hand behind your head as the other wrapped around your shoulders. "(Y/N)," he whispers your name, his heart feeling lighter.

Your eyes slowly opens from the sudden warmth that engulfed you. "Nngh!" The moment your mind became conscious, the pain from the battle and the soreness from training before suddenly rushed all over your body. "Ack!"

Kaeya immediately pulls away from you, his face full of worry. "(Y/N), are you okay?" he asks. You look at Kaeya with surprise. "Why.. Are you here?" There was no anger in your tone as you were too exhausted. "I came looking for you, dummy. Now, let me take you back so ease up." You gave a quick nod and closed your eyes, falling into another sleep. Making sure you were asleep, he stood up with you in his arms and made his way back inside the city.

He went to see Barbara in the cathedral so that she could heal you. "My, they're badly injured! Hurry, bring them here," she exclaims with a hand over her mouth at the sight of your badly figure and gestures towards the infirmary. Kaeya listened and places you on one of the beds inside and let her do her thing.

She left as soon as she healed any and all visible, major wounds. Kaeya sits down on the wooden chair beside the bed and waits for you to wake up. You were asleep all throughout the day and only woken up the next morning.

You felt something at the side of you and you slowly turned your head but hissed at the sudden pain, closing your eyes in reaction. Although it lessened thanks to Barbara, the pain didn't fully go away.

Once it subsided, you open your eyes to see whatever was beside you. To your surprise, it was Kaeya. His arms were crossed on top of the bed and rested his head on top of it, sleeping with his lips slightly parted. Your heart warmed and remembered the little scene when he hugged your bruised body.

It looked like he slept late and didn't even bother to comb his hair- meaning to say, he didn't go home and return early in the morning. In that moment, you let your pride down as well as forgave him for what he said two weeks ago. You weakly reached your arms out and tucked a strand of his unkempt hair behind his ear.

You suddenly remembered the reason why you two fought in the first place- you went out to a dungeon, alone, on a mission that you secretly accepted without the help of the Cavalry Captain. It was a simple wiping out of a hilichurl camp but there was no knowledge of an abyss image nearby since it wasn't written on the report.

When Kaeya received word you left on a mission, he was upset and immediately left to find you. He found you soon enough, wiping out hilichurls. His eyes looked off to behind you and see a cryo abyss mage. "(Y/N)!" he warned. You turned to look at him and that's when the abyss image shot an ice crystal. It hit your left arm and you roared in pain. Kaeya quickly made due of the image and quickly rushed to check your wound.

"What were you thinking- going out on a mission alone!?" he angrily asked, gripping your upper arm. "Kaeya, you're hurting me!" you hissed.

"I told you time and time again that you should tell me when you're going out!" he said, raising his voice. "I was doing just--"

"Just fine!? You were hit by an abyss mage, goddamit!"

"It's just a scratch--" He cuts you off again, his tone now booming with anger. "Yeah, it's just a scratch, but what about the next time you go out alone? You could be heavily wounded or even worse!" He wasn't listening to a word you said and the grip on you looked like it wasn't loosening anytime soon.

"Kaeya, would you just listen to me!?" you shouted back in the same volume and tone as his. "I am more than capable as a knight to wipe a few hilichurls and an abyss mage!"

His anger didn't subside but he let's go of your arms, head down as a shadow casted over his face. "So, that's how this is going to be, huh? Alright, then I'll leave you be. See if I care." The words broke your heart. Kaeya turned around and left you there with your head down. That was the last time you guys talked to each other before the cold war.

He groans at the touch, making your heart flutter. Then, you see his visible eyelids open slowly, revealing his unique, blue eyes. He straightened up in his seat with a loud yawn before looking over at you. "(Y/N)..!" he says your name, his visible eye showing surprise.

"Good morning," you weakly greet, a gentle smile tugging your lips. A few short seconds passed before he quickly draws you into an intoxicating embrace. You returned the hug as you bury your smiling face into the crook of his neck. "You dummy. Why did you go out and pick a fight with a ruin guard?" he whispers, deepening the hug.

"I wanted you to know that you can depend on me.." you answer, tears starting to form. "I'm not a child that needs protecting; I'm a knight so please look at me as you would to any other knights." Kaeya pulls back and stare into your eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, his eyes stern and serious. "What--"

"Because.. You're different," he cuts you off. You look at him with questioning eyes. "I can't bring myself to not care for you nor can I bring myself to treat you like any other subordinates of mine because I love you." The three words that you never thought you'd hear from the Cavalry Captain came out so easily- it's as if he wanted to say it for so long. "I can't bear to lose you, (Y/N). And just seeing you hurt hurts me more than you realize."

"I.." You looked down on your blanket. "I'm sorry that I made you worried.. I didn't know that's how you felt."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have really told you before you got into anymore danger," he said. You two smiled and pulled you back to a loving embrace. Then, "I love you too, Kaeya."

---

[quillsareswords]

could u do a damian wayne x reader where the reader is a titan and damian and her are friends and where the reader has a really crooked smile and crooked teeth and damian just adores it but the reader hates it because everyone makes jokes about it even though they’re just kidding she’s just really insecure like maybe a fellow titan makes a joke about it and damian defends her

Thank you for requesting! This is written by someone who two snagle teeth that sit more like tusks that I despise, so I get where we're coming from here 😔

Prompt List • Masterlist (in bio)

He's always liked your smile. Yeah, it's lopsided and looks more like something torn straight from an evil swamp witch in a storybook, but he adores it.

He loves it because it's yours. Trademark yours. Nobody in the world has a smile exactly like yours. He loves it because it means you're happy. It isn't something torn from a billboard and slapped across someone's face—it's your happiness, in all its realistic and lifelike glory. Nothing any orthodontist can recreate.

He remembers when you first joined the Titans. Barely two weeks after he did, himself. You'd smiled broadly back then, laughing openly at his quips and jokes too dark for you to repeat.

After so long spent around rich people with perfect teeth and catered smiles, your crooked grin stole his heart right out from under him. He hadn't noticed at first, when his heart toppled into your hands: he was too busy admiring your mouth and wondering what'd it could feel like against his.

It took a long time for him to come to terms with his feelings for you. Years, actually. But even while he was trying desperately to suppress an emotional attachment that ran much deeper that just your smile, he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of seeing it. He continued hissing comments in the middle of meetings and pinpointing the things you thought were funniest, cutes, sweetest. Anything to earn a smile.

Unfortunately, he suspects not everybody felt the same glimmering warmth that came with your smile. At the years dragged on, your grin shrank. It was gradual at first, fewer and farther between, until one day they stopped altogether. No more teeth peeking out between the break in your lips. You still smiled plenty, at all his jokes and barbed comebacks, but never showing any teeth. Close-lipped smiles only. When you laughed, it was with a hand or wrist over your mouth. No teeth.

It was late, the night he asked about it. You were sixteen, and he'd given up on shoving away emotions. He still refused to admit anything to you, but he'd allow himself to call you a close friend—one of his two best friends (not that he'd ever said that to your face). It was in San Francisco, and you were laying beside him on the roof of Titan Tower.

You were chuckling still chuckling about watching Beat Boy spurt fruit punch put of his nose when Raven kissed his cheek on a dare (your dare, simply because you wanted to see how hard you could get her to blush).

He was staring up at what stars could be seen through the city's light pollution. He was smiling and listening, but he was only really paying you half his attention. He was thinking about the pictures you'd been in throughout the night, the close-lipped smiles, the hands covering your laughter. That one time you covered your mouth again because you couldn't help grinning at him from across the room as he deadpanned, listening to Dick drawl on about celebrating the successful mission you'd all completed the night before.

He let's your chuckling die down before he rolls his face toward you. "Can I ask you something?"

You look his way, an uncovered, tooth-flashing smile still settled across your mouth, though it starts to fade at the seriousness in his tone.

You still smile for him. Just him.

"Why do you cover your mouth when you laugh?"

Your smile becomes lopsided. You aren't totally sure how to react, and it's written across your face, despite trying to play it off. "What?"

"When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hand," he reiterates. "And you don't smile around people like you used to."

Your smile droops again. You turn away, to face the stars again. "I dunno. I just do."

He knows there's something else, but he's learned to recognize when you don't want to talk about something. He wants to press you, he wants to figure out what the problem is so he can fix it. Hedyfix all your problems, if he could.

He shoves the thought away before it advances on as to why. "How many Titans can pass out in one room?"

You recognize the tone he uses specifically for a joke. You're already starting to smile. "I dunno, how many?"

"Let's go back inside and find out."

It's a good week afterward that he finally gets his answers. You're sandwiched between him and Raven, focused more on the movie than Beast Boy trying to get Cyborg to spit out his mouth full of water. Some bet they'd made, you've gathered. Why they'd chosen a horror movie is beyond you.

Damian's got more out of you that Garfield has gotten out of his target so far, and it's already halfway through the movie. Raven even giggled at the few she overheard.

It's all fun and games, until Garfield looks up at the screen, and barks out a laugh from the other side of Raven. "Look, it's (Y/N)!"

He's referring to the clown on the screen. The original Pennywise. With rotten, crooked teeth and a chilling grin that probably made kids cry.

Damian rolls his eyes and scoffs. He turns toward you to snicker something about Gar projecting his own issues, but stops cold when he sees the look on your face.

Your eyes are still on the movie, but they're unfocused and your face is twisted with hurt. You try to wipe the expression away when you realize he's looking.

Oh. That's the problem. He should have guessed. Suppose he was too caught up in his own opinion to really consider what any ignorant rodent might think or say about you.

Cyborg groans something, completely unintelligible with a mouthful of water, but it sounds like it was supposed to be scolding. Raven doesn't seem to have heard it.

There are tears in your eyes when you absently scratch the side of your arm and stand up. "I'll be back," you brush off with a forced half smile that's meant to look playful, but comes off pained. You make for the kitchen too quickly to be subtle.

Damian watches you go, but his attention hones on Garfield the moment your out of sight. The green boy is still staring questioningly at Cy's glare when Damian whacks him with the remote.

He swears, reaching up to rub where the hard plastic made contact, turning to tell Damian off and to make him pick up the batteries that came flying out, but Damian's on him first.

"Looks like (L/N), does it?" he growls, jerking his head toward the paused imagine. "Are you always this idiotic or just an asshole?"

Damian watches the confusion turn to pained understanding as he looks between Pennywise and a very angry ex-assassin.

Cyborg spits his water back into the cup on the table. "Dude, come on. That was such a dick thing to say..."

Damian doesn't sit around for the rest. He shoulders the kitchen door open with an empty glass in hand.

You're staring into the yellow light of the microwave, listening to popcorn kernels pop, with your back to him and tour hands braced against the counter.

He hesitates by the door, steps forward suddenly slow and unsure. He glances the sink, remembers the glass, and makes for the faucet. He doesn't want to make it terribly obvious that he knows you're upset, for fear of upsetting you further.

"You shouldn't stand in front of the microwave like that," he grumbles, twisting on the cold water. "Radiation, and all that."

You don't reply. Forty five seconds left on the timer.

He sighs. He pulls his glass from the sink and switches off the water. He leaves the half-full dish on the counter.

You feel his hand on your shoulder without hearing him move. Your head jerks toward him reflexively, but you're quick to turn back to the microwave.

Not quick enough to hide unshed tears and red rimmed eyes.

His hand slides down to your shoulder blade. "Hey. Look at me."

"I'm fine," you mumble, shaking your head dismissively. "I'll be back in a second, just wanted–"

"(Y/N)." His voice is soft in your ears, softer still on an emotional wound. "Look at me."

You release a deep breath, steeling yourself as best you can. His hand is warm on your back, and all you can think about is how badly you want to be held by him. You drop one hand from the counter and turn.

His hand glides with your movement, resting now on your arm. "It was a stupid joke. He's going to apologize. He didn't mean it."

You consider faking another smile and brushing it all off, but you can't seem to bring yourself to do it. Instead, you take a new interest in his shoes. "He wasn't wrong."

"He was." There's enough conviction in his voice to draw your eyes back to his. "He's said enough dumb things to convince mute man glad to be, but that was possibly one of the stupidest."

You chuckle, despite yourself. "That's an awful joke to make," you scold. Still the corners of your lips are tilting upward.

"I know," he admits. "But I'll tell an even worse one if it means you'll smile for me."

Your face falls slack. Eyes wide, surprised.

His free hand finds your other arm. "You have the happiest smile I've ever seen, (Y/N). You don't have to look like a orthodontic aligners commercial to have the prettiest smile in any room. And if anyone tells you otherwise, I'll knock their incisors out."

You've got tears in your eyes again, but your wobbling bottom lip is still tilling toward the ceiling. You sniffle once, shuffling forward just enough to wrap he your arms around him.

His arms come up around you like they've been waiting his whole life for you. And the way you fit against him so perfectly, he wonders if they have.

You bury your face in his shoulder. "Thank you," you mumble against his shirt. "Nobody's ever said that about my smile before."

"No one?" He sounds genuinely surprised, and your body gently shakes hon his arms and you chuckle again.

You pull away slowly, but you can't convince yourself to step away just yet. He doesn't seem to mind, arms still so secure around you. "No. But I shouldn't be surprised," you smile again, wider, "considering you're the only person I've never felt so self conscious around."

He smiles right back. "Good. I couldn't stand it if you tried to hide from me like you do everyone else."

Your teeth disappear again, but it's not behind tight lips and self conscious dread. It's something soft, made solely for him. "No. I don't think I could hide it from you if I tried."

He doesn't remember who moved first. If it was your hands on his cheeks or his arms around your waist, or who leaned and who met them halfway. All he does remember is how many times he imagined tour lips against his, and how many times he'd guessed it all right.

[karalovesallthegirls]

“Is this going to become unpleasant? Having Kara here?” “I’m not a child, Arthur. I can be in the same room as my ex-wife without causing a scene.”

“I know, dear, I know,” he soothes in that grating voice of his. “I just want you to be comfortable.” His grip on her arm is anything but. She smiles through the discomfort like always and places a hand affectionately on his chest. “I’m certainly not comfortable,” some old hag Lex invited chimes in. “I can’t believe they even let that creature in here.” It takes all of Lena’s self-restraint not to deck her clear across the face. To stand there with a placid smile while her present company disparage the woman she’d once vowed to have and to hold till death. It’s been a year since the divorce and it hasn’t gotten any easier.

“Now now, can we please be civil?” she hears behind her, and again she’s forced to focus all her energy on maintaining an air of indifference as her darling brother arrives. “That thing was Lena’s wife for a while, after all.” His smile is anything but kind, his figure imposing as he steps in close. “Yes, well,” Lena says with a passable smile, “we all make mistakes, right?” Arthur laughs and the hag laughs and Lex puts a brotherly arm around her to pull her in close, close enough to whisper against her ear without drawing attention, “Let’s not make anymore, hmm?”

He squeezes her so hard he nearly breaks skin.

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

Their story goes like this: They fall into a mad sort of love, one that consumes and surrounds and heals. They marry in the spring with flowers in their hair.

They finalize their divorce before the leaves brown and fall.

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

Lena manages to avoid Kara for most of the night.

Partially by her own efforts, partially from Arthur intervening. No one wants another Lena-Kara cat fight, not tonight at least. While it can be fun to watch the former spouses quibble over politics, tonight is meant to be a celebration honoring the most important thing in this world, something so important no drama should overpower it: Lex. Lex is running for senate. They announced it earlier in the week to great approval and support. Arthur figures he’ll spend a few years working the senate before making a bid for president. They’ve already written the campaign slogans.

“I’m so honored you all came here to join me for this momentous occasion,” he says, and he smiles at the crowd with equal parts affection and disgust, though perhaps only Lena can recognize that second part. “We stand here now at the precipice of a historic moment – an end to the horrendous occupation of our planet. To freedom from otherworldly invaders.” As if on cue, all eyes turn to Kara. The lone alien in a room full of bigots. Everyone knows who Kara is, of course. Even those who somehow missed the great identity reveal know her by her scars. Even in the face of hatred, she stands tall. Unwavering. Staring down the man who wishes for her demise.

“It’s amazing, the hubris. We can’t even have a moment’s peace at a banquet, can we?” Lex says, earning a round of laughter. Lena stares steadily ahead at him. She can’t stand to look at Kara right now. “I’m here as a concerned citizen, Mr. Luthor. Nothing more.” “Of course, as a citizen,” his voice drips with disdain. “Well then please, stay. I support all of my great state’s citizens. I’m a man of the people, after all. I represent all of my human constituents, but please. Enjoy the lobster.” The night moves past that temporary discomfort, and Lena almost finds herself settling into it when, of course, her ex-wife approaches.

“Mrs. Danvers,” Kara greets her, and she rolls her eyes like always. “Always a pleasure to see you.” “It’s Ms. Luthor now, Supergirl. Surely your alien memory can recall our divorce.” “My mistake. Sometimes I forget you’re really a Luthor,” she smiles, like she’s trying to joke with her. “You’ve got so much hair, after all. Your genes haven’t quite kicked in yet.”

Lena doesn’t smile. Doesn’t do anything more than stare. She can see Arthur in her peripheral vision stepping closer, but she holds a hand up to stop him. No need to cause a scene.

“Do you need something or are you just here to harass me?”

Kara just shakes her head, stepping back. “I apologize. Just wanted to say hello to an old friend before I left.”

“We aren’t friends, Supergirl. Feel free to leave now,” Lena sneers with a dismissive wave of her fingers. That is finally what does it – Kara gives her one forlorn glance before exiting the ballroom. The crowd around Lena snicker as she departs, and Arthur lays a too-large hand down on her shoulder.

"Security should have never let her in, love,” he says, genuinely apologetic. “What do you say we forget this unpleasantness and dance?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He takes her hand and leads her out to the dance floor and she smiles at him, with the burn of unshed tears at the back of her eye, and together they dance.

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

This is how their story plays out to the public: Lena Luthor marries Kara Danvers and, unknowingly, she marries Supergirl.

Kara Danvers is Supergirl – something she didn’t know, something the world didn’t know until human hero Lex Luthor reveals it. When he heroically saves her from her mistake. Everything she has built as a human crumbles in one fell swoop. The legality of her marriage – the legitimacy – is questioned. How could an alien love a Luthor? How could a Luthor love a Super? Should humans and aliens even be allowed to marry?

Lex Luthor is released from prison with a pardon, and the anti-alien movement gains traction alongside him. There’s talk of voting out the Alien Amnesty Act and making public its list of intergalactic immigrants.

Lena files for a divorce, one the press lovingly reports on how it is in no way amicable. Kara Danvers stops existing as a reporter, as a person.

Lena takes her place beside Lex, leaves everything she ever built with Kara behind. She takes back up the mantle of Luthor and all that it entails. The world sinks back into its own bigotry, rolls back rights hard won. Lena falls in love with someone new – Arthur White. A family friend and loyal employee of Lex Corp. Gossip magazines love to talk about their romance, but always mention that Lena wants to take things slow. She’s in no hurry to tie the knot again.

When asked, Lena denies ever knowing Kara was an alien.

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

Lena finds a moment’s solace in the bathroom.

There’s something soothing about the rhythmic routine of scrubbing soap into her skin, under her nails, over and over like maybe the motion will be enough to fully wash her clean. She hasn’t felt clean in a long time. The bathroom door opens behind her but she hardly notices, too focused on her ritual.

“Lex is always such a charmer,” she hears from behind her, and of course. Of course, it’s the person she’s so adamantly avoided all night. Of course, they’re alone together. Not that Lena is ever alone anymore. “Sometimes I almost even buy the crap he says.”

“You know, I told Arthur I didn’t need to extend our restraining order but you’re making me think that maybe I should,” Lena says without looking up from her hands. Again and again she rubs them together under the water, scrubbing until her skin turns red. “You need to leave.”

Kara doesn’t leave. Worse, she locks the door and slowly approaches.

Lena looks up at her reflection in the mirror in alarm, eyes wide in terror, and she shakes her head frantically, mouthing ‘no’ repeatedly as Kara draws ever closer. Kara pulls out an earpiece from her ear and holds it up to Lena’s. “Listen,” Kara whispers. Her front presses gently against Lena’s back, bumping her into the sink. Lena grips the sink in a white-knuckled hold.

Through the earpiece, soft echo of someone quietly sobbing plays out. “Brainy’s looping this audio over your bug,” Kara whispers against her other ear. “They can’t hear us. To them it just sounds like you’re crying alone in the bathroom.”

“You can’t be sure,” Lena barely breathes out even as she sinks back against her former spouse. “Lex-” “Isn’t listening. I promise. Trust me.”

That really is all it takes. Lena will always trust Kara.

She’s turning and shoving before Kara can say another word, pressing her against the wall with a desperate kiss. It’s frantic and dirty, both of them gripping at each other like they don’t know where to touch, like any minute someone will catch them and it’ll all be over. “Baby,” Kara breathes against her lips, and Lena nearly melts. “My love.” Lena just moans in reply. Licks into her mouth, desperate, trying to work her hand underneath Kara’s gown, trying to take advantage of every second she’s allowed to be near her, but they’re both distracted by the rapid beeping coming from Kara’s communicator.

“We’re out of time,” Kara gasps against her. Lena shudders at the feel of her lips moving against her own. “Dammit, dammit!”

She pushes away from Lena with an anguished sigh, running a hand over her mouth. Lena leans heavily against the bathroom stall trying to catch her breath. “We have twenty seconds until the loop ends,” Kara announces, looking at her cellular device.  “Listen, I’m going to come for you, okay? This isn’t over. Don’t give up. We just need a little more time but he is not going to win. Just stay strong, my love, okay? You have to believe me.”

She kisses Lena’s forehead, then her mouth. Lena tugs her in for a longer, frantic kiss, like she’s scared to let her go. “I love you,” Lena says, because she doesn’t believe it. She doesn’t believe they can beat him. But she does believe in this: “I love you so much, Kara.” Kara kisses her again, then again, then the beeping becomes too much to ignore. With one last, lingering look, she turns and vanishes in a quick gust of wind, leaving Lena alone in the bathroom. She takes just a few moments to get herself back together. Wipes her face clean, her eyes dry. Washes her hands once more. When she steps out, Arthur is there waiting. He holds his arm out for her to take, and she loops hers through it. His grip is tight as he leads her back towards the main hall. “Crying in the bathroom?” he says, voice low. “How embarrassing, Lena.” The mask she wears falls back into place at that as the high of Kara is shattered. “We all have moments of weakness, Arthur. Let’s just go back to the party.” And so they go.

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

Theirs is the story of two factions facing off in a cultural war.  

This is how their story goes for years and years, told through newsprint and blog posts and gossip whispered on the streets. Their story of lovers turned enemy, of humanity versus the other. Luthor and Super, alien and human.

But the real story, the truth hidden by all the gossip and hearsay, is so much worse. Beneath it all, theirs is a love story.

[russian-puppet]

I am just failing to understand. People are ridiculously privileged to the extent of having surface levelled outlook on the world yet have the audacity to act morally superior.

How easily Iraq invasion was forgotten. Even though its drastic consequences is a daily event for Iraqis.

Did people compare “B*sh” to “Hitler”? No.

Did people call “Russia for help” when that happened? No.

Did governments “boycott” USA for violating international rules when they tried to manipulate UN? No.

Did governments put sanctions on AmeriKKKa when they destroyed Libya, Syria, Afghanistan?

What in the name cognitive dissonance is calling help from Biden means? Do you think they care? Do you think they have no hands in this? Do you think they are any better despite their long history of violations more than Russia & China included?

Do you remember Hiroshima? No? But your memory doesnt fail to remember Chernobyyl right? You know what happens in Ukraine, right? But are you aware of the US-backed Saudi-led war in Yemen that has been going on for years & resulted in starvation? You are “ASTONISHED” at P*tin’s bombs but your silence about Isra*l daily bombs (aided by N*TO) is astonishing me.

How did AmeriKKKa succeed in being the greatest imperialist power yet keeping a “hero”image? How are they able to evaporate their war crimes in the minds of people and brush another imperialist entity that is lesser in power as the sole villain?

The existence of two opposing evil entities is much better for the world than the existence of just one. However,when one has more power, having an unbiased stance is siding with the upper hand. This is the reality of the world, emotions aside. It is not more humanitarian of you to be “anti both”. Because. Who. Isnt? But that cant happen now. That just frees your guilt while simultaneously having selective outrage! Ignorance is a choice now, you might be indoctrinated and that is why you have a responsibility to READ!

Someone told me yesterday that US airstrikes are not the same as “Russian war” because it is a “daily occurrence”! Those are the people who are yelling at us from their high horse for being “Russian puppets” for saying if USA really cared about innocent Ukrainians they wouldnt have pressured them to join NATO & provoke war. And after threatening lives on both sides, they hand the responsibility to Russia. This reminds me of an Egyptian proverb “He hit me and cried, he preceded me and complained.”

If Russia was to deploy US missiles by USA’s borders, wouldn’t they start a WAR to “defend their country”? Oh wait, that already happened till Russia retreated!

Some people on here driven by fake sense of intellect will oversimplify my words & write paragraphs about how N*zi I am and that “USA is bad too” is a silly rhetoric. Dont blame me for your own lack of comprehension skills & inability to interpret words further than your pre-judgement.

We all know both sides are bad. No one is saying Putin is a good man. He is an aggressor BUT:

1) not in this context.

2) this sentence only strengthens USA.

3) USA & NATO are another warmongers. You dont call help from warmongers. Western intervention is beyond horrific. The middle east cannot yet revive. The smartest thing to do is refuse any participation instead of taking part in war propaganda.

4) USA will always be the ultimate EVIL. You cannot simply “dismiss” their politics from this conflict. Especially after the coup & integrating neonazis to the Ukrainian army.

5) Russia can not afford war. They will NOT benefit from a war.

6) YOU cannot be morally superior when you support sanctions on other countries and allow USA to succeed in pushing a world-wide anti Russia perspective while they do the same(worse) and never in spotlight.

[kingsofneon]

"If I'm being honest, it's wildly fun to dress up in your things."

The plastic snaps, gloves conforming to Sabo's wrists, and he grins. With the coat on and his smile showing all teeth, he looks entirely like a mad scientist.

Maybe he is a mad scientist - he's eccentric enough, greedy enough, wild enough, and what sane scientist would strap the epitome of health to their medical bench and advance with a wicked gleam in their eyes? Marco gulps.

"I heard you haven't had a check-up in years, Phoenix."

Impersonal words, but his hands less so - they fall, so gently, to tease at his chest, featherlight touch leading to a pinch at his nipples. Marco takes in a sharp breath, and Sabo hums thoughtfully.

"Were you always sensitive, or is this new?"

Marco can feel his face flush, but Sabo is waiting for an answer this time, watching his face, cold hands barely grazing skin.

"Always?" he offers, proud for not stammering, and Sabo tuts.

"But how can we know for sure? Your medical records are so lackluster."

"I don't need-"

"I think the doctor gets to decide what you need," Sabo interrupts smoothly. "Since we have no proof of your original baseline, I guess I'm going to have to do a full body check up."

His smile returns, all sharp edges and delight.

"Say ah," he orders, and after a second of hesitation, Marco complies. Sabo's fingers taste like latex; like plastic, no comfort to the rigid way he smooths his fingers over Marco's teeth, dipping in deep to reach the molars and making Marco drool. It makes Marco squirm, faintly uncomfortable at the probing touch, but then Sabo grabs his chin with his free hand, and movement becomes an impossibility.

Fuck, the strength in his fingers, in his hands, though; Marco swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth as Sabo continues his exploration, fingers dipping into Marco's throat, patting his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut, wanting so badly to reciprocate, but instead just feeling drool slip down his chin as Sabo probes for a gag reflex.

He doesn't choke till Sabo's whole hand is nearly in his mouth, and even then it's a result of wanting, his tongue pressed up to lick against Sabo's fingers, a whine slipping free. Sabo makes an approving, impressed noise.

"No gag reflex. I suppose we'll never know if that's natural or if you trained it out of yourself, but it's very impressive nonetheless." Sabo's face gains a hint of wicked delight. "Good boy."

With Sabo's hand still shoved in his mouth he has no way to talk. Marco simply whines again, embarrassed by the praise and at the way Sabo takes his time teasing his fingers along Marco's soft palate and tongue, his jaw aching.

Sabo's fingers are slick and shining by the time he pulls his hand free of Marco's mouth, saliva dripping off his fingertips. A few droplets fall to Marco's cheek, and he clears his hoarse throat, his face burning.

"Sabo," he tries, soft, "let me-"

"The only thing you're going to do is stay still," Sabo says, and Marco wants to fucking whine, some pathetic mewl of protest slipping from his lips.

"But-"

"Still." Sabo insists, his hand pressing down on Marco's collarbone, threatening for the throat, and Marco leans into it, feeling as though he's going to vibrate out of his skin. He knows that's probably what this is for - Sabo loves to drive him wild, loves to force himself against the things Marco's comfortable with until he's putty, but-

"Phoenix, where's your baseline, huh? You spend so long taking care of other people - what happens when someone has to take care of you, and has nothing?"

Sabo's posture stiffens, almost imperceptibly. If Marco wasn't attuned to every shift, to the way Sabo is acting right now, he might've missed it. As it is, Sabo's tease has revealed more than he'd wanted, showing his cards far earlier than he planned. Sabo likes him out of it, incognizant or tired, before he bares open his secrets, and Marco's needy but not yet lost to Sabo's probing tests.

What if he has nothing? Sabo never knows what to give, how to help, and sometimes Marco forgets that Sabo has spent years seeing him as a cool, untouchable figure. Most people do, after all; he's long since gotten used to awe, even from his family, who treat him with more comfort than most. Marco's always in control, but Sabo has lost so many unbreakable, undefeatable people. To test Marco's limits-

He settles back on the table slowly, body still vibrating with need, and Sabo pokes his tongue out with a scowl.

"Whatever you're thinking is too nice for me, stupid," he says, and Marco lets his own teasing grin flicker to his face.

"I don't think doctors are meant to belittle their patients. Would you mock me if I was in pain?"

"Yes," Sabo says with a sneer, but his taunting aura has recovered, confidence pulled back to cover his insecurities. "And this doctor thinks you're shit at saying when you're in pain, anyway, so I should mock you constantly."

"Oh no, whatever will I do with this great deviation in your behaviour," Marco drawls, and Sabo wipes his drool-covered fingers on Marco's neck.

"Put up with it, asshole."

Marco splutters at the touch, nothing arousing in how Sabo has decided to smear saliva all over him, but before he can add further protests, Sabo has his hands braced on Marco's pecs, cupping them together and pulling upward viciously, so Marco's words are lost to a strangled moan. The grip hurts, wonderfully so, Sabo pinching at his nipples and sending flares of bright pain and pleasure through him. Marco jerks into the touches, each eager twist making him whimper and beg, useless for it. Sometimes it's embarrassing how sensitive he is; right now, he has no thoughts in his head beyond his throbbing cock and Sabo's talented hands.

"I think everyone should know what nice tits you have," Sabo says, almost mocking, almost proud, the brief flare of haki in his fingertips making Marco arch off the table, head thrown back as he moans. "Pretty Phoenix with his sensitive body. It's so hard to build up tolerance to pleasure when nothing ever hurts, huh?" Marco whines out a no, and Sabo clicks his tongue, the grip he takes on sensitive skin making Marco almost cry, whimpering. "People can just keep pushing till you break."

Marco’s words are broken by his harsh panting, by his unsteady trembles, but he still manages to offer, "You want that?"

"I already know how to make you break," Sabo says dismissively, lip curled. "Everybody else should just know every way."

Marco shakes his head, half a movement, pressing his cheek to the cold sheets for a moment to brace himself. "Thought you were- healing. Doctor."

"Breaking you down and building you back is healing too, isn't it?" Sabo says, “That's what you do with bones, when you don’t know how they healed the first time.”

Some strangled noise escapes him, the headlong rush of pleasure summoned so easily with Sabo’s knowledge of him, but then Sabo’s hands are gone, a biting fire left in his wake. He groans, angry, but Sabo merely grins, gloved hands skimming down Marco’s abdomen. It’s almost worse than having his orgasam denied, the impersonal plastic of those gloves instead of Sabo’s calloused hands, and Marco doesn’t bother stopping his scowl.

“Told you that you make me too nice,” Sabo retorts, but he leans in to press a grazing kiss against Marco’s open mouth. It’s sweet, nice, even without deepening the touch, and Marco feels his irritation fade, eyes falling closed.

“I know you,” he murmurs, and Sabo scoffs and turns his attention back to his slow exploration, his careful investigation of Marco’s body. His gloved hands trace Marco’s hipbones, following the dip of muscled skin against his bone, evidence of a youth when his fruit kept him alive but not healthy. It can heal a lot, but he’s long since learned every limitation of it - he’s had time.

His pelvis is next, and Sabo presses his hand down flat, feeling each of Marco’s shuddering breaths. The pressure makes him shift, Sabo’s fingers digging into his thigh and grazing far-too-sensitive skin, and he can hear Sabo’s grin.

“God you’re just nerves everywhere, aren’t you?”

“Wasn’t this a checkup?” Marco says, adding a hint of impatience to his tone, and then - because he knows it’ll make Sabo amused - he adds, “perhaps you could do a check up on my dick, Doctor. It’s been hard for so long.”

Oh the reward of such a stupid line; Sabo sputters, then laughs, the sound shocked out of him before he cuts it off, barely suppressing the noise. “The two minutes it normally takes for you to cum isn’t long,” he retorts, but his hand slips low, firm against Marco’s cock.

He almost fucking sighs at the touch, the edges of tension from his earlier denied orgasam leaving as Sabo carefully strokes him, but the gloves- oh they don’t feel right, and a longing for Sabo’s proper hands fills him, the friction of flesh instead of smooth rubber. A click belies a bottle opening, but Marco still isn’t prepared for Sabo squeezing lube against his ass.

He jerks with a yelp, and Sabo snickers, fingers probing the wet slick inside him. It’s always weird, that first touch, the steady press of someone’s hand, and with Sabo’s gloves on it’s even weirder, human warmth dampened by the latex. Unlike the few times they’ve used a condom, there’s nothing about this to draw his attention away from the odd sensation.

“Sabo-” he whines, trying not to squirm at the perfunctory stretch, the difference between how Sabo normally makes it ache, like penance for giving up control, “the gloves, come on, take them off-”

“That’s Doctor, phoenix,” Sabo says. “And I can’t believe, as a fellow medical professional, that you’re advocating for such malpractice. Shove my fist inside you without a glove? A prostate exam is messy business.”

“A-?” Marco’s eyes come open, narrowed, “Sabo.”

“Heard you haven’t had one of those in ages,” Sabo continues, completely ignoring the tone that Marco’s using, “but not to worry, I know what I’m doing.”

Marco jerks again, this time with a moan, as Sabo’’s probing fingers press against him. Stars burst in front of his vision as Sabo takes his fucking time rubbing over that stupid spot, a soft hum coupled with the movement. Sabo’s grin, through Marco’s slitted eyes, is predatory.

“Mostly. You’ll have to forgive my mistakes. I’m not nearly as good a doctor as you.”

“Aren’t a-” Sabo thumbs over him hard, the pressure enough to make Marco’s cock jerk, tears springing to his eyes at how quickly pleasure has swamped him- “fuck!”

“Hey, looks like this still works,” Sabo says, but the bare movement he makes is merely to press another finger into Marco, searching again until Marco writhes on the table, breathless. “I should probably double-check though, right? What’s that thing you say all the time, once is an accident, three times is a pattern?”

“Three?” Marco says, his voice dragged pathetically high as Sabo rubs against his prostate again, his limbs shuddering as pleasure climbs and climbs and hovers at the crest, pressed against his body’s limitations.

“Oh, is it more?” Sabo responds with a curious hum. “Well, I can do more.”

“Sabo, I can’t-” Marco shudders through another orgasm, a mewl dragged from his lips, and Sabo slows, tauntingly grazing just the edges; enough to make him shake, restless energy pulling at his limbs, but not near enough to drive him to incoherence. “Hands,” he whispers, the odd touch of elastic barring him from touch, from Sabo’s warm, wonderful skin.

To be bereft of touch - he’s starved of it, a drawback of awe that he never normally contemplates, and having it denied this way makes his eyes sting, a useless hiccup catching at his breath. He knows Sabo’s delighted at the expression on his face by the way he coos, thumb pressing against Marco’s entrance.

“I’m just trying to be a professional,” Sabo says, smoothing his free hand over Marco’s heaving stomach as his third finger pops inside, the stretch making Marco groan. “But I guess, sometimes for the comfort of the patient-”

As his fingers circle Marco’s prostate, a hypnotic thing, Sabo brings his hand up to his mouth and peels off the glove with his teeth, tossing it to the side as soon as it’s off. Marco’s babbling almost as soon as it touches him, praise falling from his lips as Sabo’s warm, scarred skin smooths up his stomach and rubs a circle against his diaphragm.

“I’ve rewarded you,” Sabo says, every word as deliberate as his dragging touches, “now you reward me, yeah?”

Reward him with Marco, weak, pliant, human, and he wants so badly to give Sabo what he wants, but everything already aches, a solid hook dragging the last dregs of pleasure into his gut. Sabo can play him like a fool, but knowledge of what he’s being asked for doesn’t stop Marco from trying to fight back. Sabo’s touch is a fissure of electricity, a livewire inside him, and his skin is thrumming with oversensitivity.

He knows what Sabo’s asking for, what he’ll give, and Marco rocks against Sabo’s fingers, trying to make him angle them properly, to press against a spot already aching with sensitivity. Marco’s thighs are a mess, sticky and wet, but Sabo’s touch has kept him half-hard, and Marco’s always been a sucker for pain - and for his partners. Sabo grins gleefully.

“Don’t worry, Phoenix. I’ll take care of you.”

[volexis]

⤷ december 14 ▸ don’t leaf me hanging ft. bakugou

summary: holiday parties aren’t the best way to spend a pleasant, snowy evening, especially when you bump into your frenemy practically everywhere you go. your evening takes a turn for the worse when you’re stuck together beneath the most odious sprig of the season: mistletoe. how will you get out of this one?

warnings: slight hint of college au, some cursing, mentions of drinking, unwanted advances

wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was horrible but terribly gratifying to write at the same time,,, low key my first time writing for both bakugou and bnha and high key v nervous about posting this since its like a billion years late but i guess its a christmas present?

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

Idle chatter rings in your ears as you cradle a mug of now cooled hot chocolate. The room was pleasantly warm, but the onset of partygoers stifled you. Everything was swelteringly suffocating and you gave Mina a sheepish smile. “I’m gonna go refill my drink, I’ll be right back.”

“(Y/N), you haven’t even touched—”

You paid her no heed and all but bolted towards the kitchen. Immediately the atmosphere quieted, the living room’s noise dulling to an easily ignored thrum. You leaned against the marbled counter, fingers skimming the slight pores of the mineral. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard a growl from the other side of the table, the tenacity of its timbre almost making you drop your cup. You spun to meet scarlet eyes that practically burned into you. Immediately, a scowl pulled at your lips. Of course, it was none other than the resident pain in your ass, nuisance extraordinaire: Bakugou Katsuki. 

He had it in for you the day you’d met, that much you knew. It was as if he took one look at you and dismissed you as what he generously liked to call ‘an extra’. As if he couldn’t be bothered to dignify you with his presence, let alone a conversation. Normally, you’d brush it off but something about it all irked you to no end. You made it your mission to be around him as much as possible, learn what makes him tick as well as what made him hate you so. Initially, he reacted as predicted. He practically leveled the building that first day in his booming voice and irate fury, to which you responded with nothing but a laugh. As enigmatic as he may seem, Bakugou was surprisingly predictable. 

The weeks passed by and you’d come to notice his yelling had toned down, not significant enough to be perceptible by the rest, but his words no longer held the same sharp edge as before though his aggressivity was as boisterous as ever. Soon enough you began to feel more at ease in his presence, even going as far as looking forward to the next time you’d see him at your lectures, in the halls, out at lunch. Catching yourself scanning the area for his presence every time you’d enter a room. In short, you had fallen for him. Hard.

Together you fell into a steady rhythm. He allowed you to remain in his vicinity unscathed and you didn’t have to tiptoe around his easily detonated temper. 

You quickly learned his moods were more fluctuant than you ever could’ve guessed. The days leading to the small holiday party you found yourself in were riddled with the same explosive disposition from when you’d first met. Every stinging barb and taunt wounded you a little more than you’d like to admit. And then, radio silence. You no longer studied together, he no longer met your eyes when you had made a particularly interesting comment. Back to the very beginning when he didn’t even know you existed. You didn’t know what hurt more. 

You forced yourself to take a deep breath and smooth your words into a clipped, polite speech.

“I’m in the kitchen, same as you. Do you have a problem with that?”

The blonde balked, opening his mouth to spew a retort, when Mina stumbled into the kitchen, bright smiles and full of boundless cheer. “(Y/N) since you’re in here would you mind getting me and—” 

Her words died on her lips, tripping over each other as he planted her hands on your shoulders and tugged you away from the blonde, an uneasy grin on her face. “We’ll be going now.”

You gave him what you hoped looked like a sincere smile; one that hid the painfully evident panic that shot through your limbs. You knew well enough not to provoke him nor did you have the energy to do so. 

Mina stopped pulling once you were safely outside in the hallway. Silence followed as her hands slipped from their perch on your shoulders to your own, shaking them lightly to force you to look at her.

“What was that?” The incredulity that filled her words matched her bug-eyed expression, swerving as she alternated from staring at you and the room you’d just exited. 

“Actually, I don’t know.” You were equally as shocked and stumped as the poor girl. 

“Well, in any case, I don’t think it’s worth ruining Kirishima’s party over whatever it is that’s been going on between you two lately. Just in case, it’ll be safer to avoid him for the rest of the evening, yeah?”

You nodded numbly and allowed her to take you back to the living room now outfitted with a hastily put together dance floor. Mina was right, anyhow. From just one quick look towards the rest of the room, you could tell everyone was enjoying their evening, basking in the warmth coming from the central heating as well as the close proximity. There’s no need to need to spoil the festivities with a silly quarrel you could fix any other day. However, there was one slight issue with your plan. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch a glimpse of spiky blonde hair. No matter where you’d go, he’d still be there, somewhere. Every move you made seemed to draw him closer. With a huff, you maneuvered around the throng of dancers to make your way back to the kitchen. There’s still a chance he’d follow you, but at least you’d be further away from the vigilant stares of the crowd. 

As you thought, Bakugou was already leaning against the marbled counter once you stepped in. 

“Mind telling me why you’re avoiding me?”

Before you could answer him, someone else stumbled into the kitchen seemingly towards you, all wobbling steps and inebriated smiles. His drink sloshed in the dented plastic cup he held onto so tightly, rivulets of it spilling down the side and splashing onto his clothes. “You’re really pretty, would you give me your number?”

You scoffed at his sudden forwardness, a scowl pulling at your lips once you had fully registered his words. “Why should I?”

The man, startled at your response, was silent for a beat. Seemingly regaining his composure, he pressed closer into you, backing you further into the counter. “Well,” he leaned towards your ear as if his next words were to be shared only with you. “If you do give me your number, maybe I can call you up and I could show you a good time. Whaddaya say, pretty thing?”

Words failed to form, tripping over each other as you stumbled away from him, away from whatever he thought he was doing. You bumped into something solid as you backtracked, turning around to see that it had been the fiery blonde himself. 

“That’s not happening, asshole, we’ll be going now.” absolute venom dripped from his words as he smiled cruelly, his lips contorting into something akin to a sneer as he takes your hand in his, tugging you away. 

Despite the constant abrasiveness in his everyday mannerisms,  you couldn’t help but marvel at the gentle manner he used to intertwine his fingers with yours. He wasn’t rough in pulling you from the kitchen, he didn’t crush your hand in his grasp or practically pull your arm out of its socket. He was almost sweet, coaxing you away from the situation. 

He only stopped once you were a safe distance away, turned in the direction you’d come from, to presumably make sure the offender hadn’t followed. You’d been too preoccupied with the softness of his touch to notice him watching the kitchen doorway and then the rest of the crowd once he noticed the other student sift in, glaring sharply every time their eyes met. Suffice to say, you were probably not going to hear from him in a long time. 

“Bakugou?” He let out a noise of acknowledgment, eyes still trained on something across the room. 

“You can let go of my hand now.” 

He blinked owlishly, looking down at your fingers as if he now just realized what he had been doing. “You never answered my question.”

“And you haven’t let go of my hand.”

His next words were drowned out by tumultuous cheers and wild shouts of the other students. They’d formed a crowd behind the two of you. Why?

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” You looked to Bakugou in confusion, who responded by pointing up to the top of the doorway to spot a small tangle of mistletoe lies poorly taped to the wood. 

Realization dawned on you and frustration ebbed into your rapidly spiraling thoughts. Of all people to be stuck under that odious herb, it just had to be the one who sent your poor heart into overdrive every time you’d catch one of the softer, more peaceful looks he’d sport around you. Part of you wanted to grab him and plant your lips on his, that part of you had longed for such an opportunity for a while now, longed for him. The other part of you was caught up in trying to process Bakugou’s radical change in behavior. From one minute to the next he had gone from his usual brutally harsh demeanor to holding your hand so tenderly as if he was scared to hurt you.

“We don’t really have to do this if you don’t want to,” You were unsure of what you wanted, what you thought of him. He said nothing as he gently placed his hands on your cheeks, drawing closer till his lips met yours. The world drowned out around you. Electricity surged through your every nerve and you shivered as you felt him nip at your bottom lip. You drown in the taste of spiced cinnamon and his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth. It’s dizzying and you almost couldn’t believe it had happened once he pulls away. 

Once you look into his eyes you’re suddenly aware of the crowd’s roar behind you. The full weight of the past few moments settle in and you don’t know if you want to slap him or kiss him again. 

“You never answered my question, but I have been treating you like shit all week. You don’t deserve it. You really don’t,” he repeated, tapering off as he fumbled for the right words to say.

“I got scared of my feelings, of what they meant, and I pushed you away because of it.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Bakugou,” You let the ghost of a smile pull at your lips. After all, that’s probably the closest he’d get to an apology.

“Dumbass, don’t interrupt me while I’m trying to tell you that I like you—” His cheeks burned once he realized what he’d said. You mirrored his reaction, eyes widening at his words.

“You like me?” Your smile quirked into a full grin as you pulled him back towards you in another kiss. Immediately his hands shot to your waist, pressing you closer to him as you lost yourself in the way his lips melded against yours. He’s everywhere, up the curve of your spine and down your arms, kissing you with a fervent urgency you’d never known before. The feeling of melting so deliciously against him made your nerves sing. A sudden giddiness spun through you as you pulled away and mirrored Bakugou’s radiant smile. 

“Luckily, I just so happen to like you too.”

taglist: @tsumuseum @amoroushero @mrslordexplosionmurder @ssat0ris​ @osamusriceballs @seraphgabrielle​ @1642lux

strike through means I wasn’t able to tag you

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[lemon-boy-stan]

promises - richie tozier x bipolar! reader

requested by @hoeforbarnes, hope this makes you feel a tad bit better, sorry that it took so long, sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted love xx

warnings: biploar! reader, swearing, mentions of divorce.

you didn't mean to be a dick. you just wanted to go home and die.

you hated yourself for being a bitch to small, quiet stan but you would never admit it so he remained quiet when you pushed past him.

so had ben when you ignored him. and even bill, who'd only sighed when you intentionally spilt water on his painting for art class.

eddie was at home sick so it wasn't like you could do anything to him.

look - you weren't trying to bully your friends. you were just going through a pretty shitty time at home.

your mom had left and you felt like it was your fault. of course you did, when you heard your dad trying to get her back.

but of course no one knew that, the boys just assumed you were on your period so they shrugged it off.

only richie suspected something - of course, he did, he was your boyfriend and he knew your cycle.

you pushed past quite a lot of people who probably didn't need to be pushed past to get to your table in the cafeteria.

the rest of the losers were already there.

that made you feel worse even though it wasn't supposed to - you knew they had different lessons and teachers so they would be dismissed at different times, but to you it looked like they didn't wait for you.

conversation started off like it normally did - beverly began discussion about the latest friends episode you hadn't watched.

"it was actually the funniest thing when joey put the -" she began, on a roll.

you clenched your fist and glared at your food. it wasn't fair that everyone else watched it without you.

"hey," richie whispered, voice as soft as it could go, "are you okay?" you grumbled at this, turning away from him, completely blocking him off.

"just because you've watched it doesn't mean everyone else has, beverly," you hissed, clenching your jaw.

"oh, shit, sorry guys. has anyone else not watched it?"

the rest of your friends shook their heads - so did richie. "oh, well, n/n, think of it as a recap, because i honestly will not be able to concentrate in the next two lessons without ranting about this, richie cover her ears,"

"as you wish," he said stupidly, in one of those stupid impressions.

"wesley does not look good on you, tozier, drop it," you glared at him now.

"wow," stan added to the banter, "you haven't called him that since you hated him,"

"well, maybe i still do!" you nearly yelled at the kid.

"what the hell was that for?" bev raised her voice. "stan didn't even do anything to you,"

"yeah, i've been nice to her the whole day because she's obviously upset about something,"

stan was right. he was in your homeroom so he had to deal with you the entire day. you mumbled a small sound in apology before glaring back down in your plate.

"and i don't g - get why you tipped your drink all over my p - painting," bill frowned, "i mean, it's fine, she's letting me do it again but it took really l - long," his voice drifted off.

you felt bad, to be honest. but you weren't going to admit that to any of them. you didn't want to have to explain the divorce of your parents.

"whatever," you rolled your eyes, "i'm going for a walk. don't. follow. me." you glared at all of them when you said this but didn't bother looking back.

RICHIE

they stared at me expectantly the minute she was out of view and earshot.

"what?!" i threw my hands up. "well, i'm sorry she's being a bitch to you guys but i honestly don't even know why -"

beverly shoved her head into her hand, shaking it in dismay. i stared at them until stanley groaned loudly.

"you're supposed to follow her!" he threw his arms up in annoyance.

"oh." i got up and ran after her, brain kicking in.

SECOND PERSON POV

he found you in the abandoned classroom, leaning against one of the desks with your head in your hands.

"richie, i thought i told you not to follow me," you mumbled the words when you saw his shoes.

"beverly said to accompany you in case bowers shows up," he decided it was okay to lie about something like that.

"you're full of shit," you mumbled.

"i am," he agreed, sitting down next to you, "now tell me what's up, pretty girl," you took a long shaky breath at this before finally surrendering.

“my mom left my dad last night,” your lip trembled. “and it’s my fault, richie, it’s my stupid bipolar, i’ve scared my mom away. richie, what if i scare my dad away too? what’s my dad gonna do? if mom doesn’t want me anymore, i -”

“hey,” he adjusted his glasses very, very seriously, “listen to me, pretty girl,” right now you hated that stupid pet name. “do i hate my adhd?”

“no,” you mumbled - you’d memorized this particular lecture. “but -”

“your mama just can’t handle it,” he had to stop himself from blurting out a joke. “but i know your dad, pretty girl, i know he loves you, i know he’s strong, okay?” 

“but what about you?” you didn’t mean to say it, “are you gonna leave me, too?”

“i’ll only leave you if you want me to,” he said, voice dry, “and if you want me to come back i will always come back, pretty girl,” he spoke solemnly, “i may look like one, but i’m not a cheat, y/n. i’ve loved you since grade one and i’ll never stop loving you. i’ll put up with all your crazy shit ‘till the day i die.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

MASTERLIST - requests are ALWAYS open!

a/n: omg this was so fucking bad i’m soooooo sorry if you want me to write a different one i don’t blame you. i honestly cannot write straight richie for the life of me.