#put those shoulders away friens

[featherlouise]

Some oooooold old sketches I started for huevember last year

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 3/?

I love writing this so much, it's not going to be a quick thing for sure. I'm thinking and plotting constantly. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn, stiches

Wordcount: 2675

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Silence fills the apartment.

For a few moments.

“Red, I am going to kill you.”

“Wade, I am going to stab you.” Both of you talk at the same time, then glare at the other. You notice that his eyes are a nice shade of hazel, before your gaze snaps to Wade as he speaks.

“Why am I getting the heat for this?!” 

“You ran.” You and Flannel say in unison, glaring at each other again. His hand is still on your neck, warm and solid.

He raises an eyebrow as you reach for your pants, you grab one of your knives out of its hidden sheath, stabbing his shoulder. He grunts with pain, hand clutching at your neck for a moment before pulling it away. You pull your knife back out, before putting it parallel between two of Flannel’s claws, twisting it hard as you can, somewhat pushing his claws further apart. He winches, and the claws retract, allowing you to quickly slide away, and then take a few steps back. You notice there is no trace of where they came from on his knuckles, so this guy must have some sort of healing factor too. 

Fucking great.

“Why are you armed if you came here to meet your soulmate?” He scowls at you.

“Like you can talk, Mr Knuckle Claws.” He growls, fucking growls, and you would mock the absurdity of it, but his claws are coming back out. 

You grab your second knife, spinning them once in your hand, steeling yourself. Flannel lurches forward, one set claws aimed for your throat. You deflect them, your arm almost vibrates with the effort it takes to stop the swinging momentum, but you don’t have time to reflect on it, his other set of claws coming for your left arm. You stop these too, but you don’t have to stop a third or fourth swipe, as Wade drags Flannel backwards by the shoulders, making the man stumble and almost fall.

“Nu uh! No murdering of our soulmate peanut, they don’t have a healing factor!” Flannel huffs, glaring at you again, but his claws retract. 

You want to stab him. 

You are pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

Irritation coming across the bond, if somewhat muted. You also want to stab Wade, because fuck him, you could fight Mr Scowl on your own merit. You don’t sheat your knives yet, staring at them both, hand clenched tight around the handles. Flannel scowls at you.

“Gonna put those away bub?”

“Trying to figure out if I can get to both of your hearts from here.” Flannel snorts.

“For me it takes at least some candles and a nice dinner with gifts, then it’s all yours.” Wade winks at you, you feel your eye twitch in irritation.

Flannel sniffs the air suddenly, nose wrinkling.

“Why do I smell blood?”

“What?” You look down at your chest, suddenly realizing there are wet spots forming on your dark shirt. “Shit.”  You pull the collar away from your skin, looking down and seeing blood trickle slowly from the gauze on your chest.

“Great, popped a fucking stitch. Thank you asshole. Now Evelyn is gonna tear me a new one.”

“Aw pookie, cheating on as already? Tell me, what is she, a nurse that found you on her doorstep and took care of you, and now you make sweet, sweet love like in so many fanfictions?”

“Don’t call me that, and no, you fucking moron, she’s a veterinarian, a friend, and we are both gay in the wrong direction for whatever the fuck kind of fantasy you have in that scarred brain of yours.” You put your knives back in their sheats hidden under your pants, ignoring how two sets of eyes follow the motion.

“I hope you guys got a first aid kit around here somewhere. I assume that the old lady and whoever else you guys have over aren’t all super healers.” Wade and Flannel look at each other.

“I’ll see if I can find anything between Al’s coke in the bedroom.” Wade walks off, leaving you and Flannel alone in the room. It’s not long, maybe a minute, but it lets you feel the confusion coming through your bond from him, and a swirl of other emotions that are hard to identify through the still very fresh bond.

You wonder what he feels from you, as neither of you say anything, just watching the other. A shot of guilt comes through your bond, which makes you scowl at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What?”

“Pretend like you care.”

“You’re our s-”

“Say it and will stab you. I know you probably can’t die, but I will give my best damn try.” He scowls, again, but doesn’t say anything. Wade comes back then, a little red and solid bag with a white plus sign on in one hand. You reach out to take it, but Wade pulls it out of reach for you.

“Give me the damn med kit Wade.”

“Nah ah, better for me to do it, promise I’ll be gentle, done it before.” 

“No, Wade.” He sighs, a second later there’s a gun aimed at you. Where the fuck that even came from, you don’t know. You wouldn’t be surprised if Wade was armed before you even came here though.

“You just stopped Flannel from attacking me, now you are aiming a gun at me?” You tilt your head, and Wade shrugs. Flannel seems frozen, eyes flicking between the two of you, arms tense at his side again.

“His name is Logan, and he would not have made it non-lethal, but I will.” He’s serious, you can tell by the flat tone in his voice, the most level and even it has ever been in the times you have heard him speak. You look into his eyes, a lovely shade of brown that is filled with stony seriousness.

Getting shot would fucking suck.

It would hurt.

It would take forever to heal.

It would make you weak for a good while.

You sigh, rubbing your face, opting for the lesser of two evils. 

You think.

You’re tired.

“Fine.” The gun is moved away, safety clicked on, and tucked into the waistband of Wade’s pants. He takes a few steps away from you, picking up takeaway boxes (that you hadn’t noticed, but to be fair all your attention had been on the other two men) off the dining room table, handing them off to Logan, who takes them to the kitchen. Wade pats the table.

“Up you go pumpkin.” You roll your eyes, too tired and annoyed at your bleeding wounds to tell him to not call you that. You don’t think he will stop. You sit on the table, taking your jacket and shirt off, dumping them on the floor before laying back. Wade whistles, dropping the med kit next to your shoulder as you glare at him.

“Nasty.” 

“Your fucking handiwork.” You tilt your head to look at Logan where he leans in the doorway to the kitchen. “And yours, since I’m bleeding again.” He grimaces, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. A hand brushes against the gauze covering your stomach wound.

“Gonna take this off now.” Wade’s voice is soft, you give him a weird look, but he’s not looking at you, but instead he’s looking at his hand where it lays gently on top of the gauze.

“Yeah, yeah, just get it over with.”

“Hey, consent is sexy.”

“This isn’t-” You stop yourself, grimacing at the feeling of gauze lifting off your blood soaked skin. The wound drips more freely now, blood trickling down onto the table. A blue towel appears next to Wade, Logan is quiet on his feet, you hadn’t even noticed he went anywhere. Wade takes the towel, cleaning up the blood as best he can. The towel is soft against your skin, you watch him for a few seconds before moving your focus to the ceiling. 

Wade leaves the towel on your stomach, gently prodding at the wound. You grimace, the feeling unpleasant.

“This isn’t too bad, you only need two new stitches, pookie.”

“Get on with it then.” You hear the flicker of a lighter, glancing down to see Wade hovering a needle in and out of the flame. You know it’s not going to be as well done as Evelyn’s, but you don’t want to go back there and get an earful. 

Or more likely, yelled at until your whole body feels like it is on fire.

Eyes back to the ceiling, you take a deep breath as you feel Wade’s fingers press just beneath the wound. Then there’s some sort of black cloth, a small towel you are guessing, hovering over your face. You tilt your head to look at Logan, who offers it up with a little shake and a raised brow. You nod, opening your mouth, letting him drop it so you can bite down on it just as the needle pierces your skin.

It’s not a pleasant sensation, so you bite down on the towel, forcing yourself to take measured and deep breaths as you stare at the ceiling, concentrating on a little damp spot you can see in one corner.

What a charming space.

“You know, next time you are shirtless, I hope you are going to be bleeding less.” Wade puts the needle aside, wiping his hand on the towel on your stomach. Next he digs around in the medkit again, taking out supplies to cover his (and Evelyn’s) handiwork. You ignore his comment, closing your eyes and just breathing.

You stay like that as he finishes up, and moves onto your chest wound. Once again, the blood soaked material doesn’t feel great coming off, and neither does Wade’s prodding fingers.

“Two again. Beginning to think that’s your lucky number sweetcheeks.” You groan, moving your arm to smack him, hitting a solid thigh. Wade laughs, and it’s such a bizarre situation, you can feel it through your bond, so it takes actual effort to not smile under the towel in your mouth. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it.” He keeps babbling some more, you tune him out, letting him be background noise as you breathe deeply through your nose as the needle pierces skin again. You flex your fingers and grind your teeth on the towel, willing yourself to stay still to not fuck up Wade’s stitches.

“There we go, all done! Well, almost, I still need to cover my beautiful handiwork, which is a damn shame.” You are not sure if he’s talking about the wound or the stitches, but you don’t care. As he covers it in gauze once more, you take the towel out of your mouth, licking your lips. The towel had soaked up a good deal of moisture from your mouth, so it takes more than a few moments for your mouth to feel normal again. By the time that happens, Wade is done, leaning away from you, gathering up trash, wet towels, and the needle. He takes it away, leaving you and Logan alone again. You sit up on the table, noticing Logan has your shirt in his hand. You reach for it, but he pulls it out of reach from you. Confused, you scrunch your eyebrows. He scrunches up the shirt, one hand in each arms hole, holding the opening for your torso towards you.

“You gotta be kidding me. I’m not that fucking fragile. Let me put my own damn shirt on.” Logan just arches an impressive brow, and you sigh, not willing to fucking wrestle him for your shirt back. Tearing up your stitches again would just be counterintuitive, and you are tired. So you sigh, again, reaching both arms forward.

You let Logan put the shirt on you, you grimace as the mostly dried blood is still present, even if it’s not very visible. The action is weirdly intimate as he stays close afterwards. You let his eyes wander over your face and chest for a few seconds, before you push him away with a boot to his stomach. You could, and you almost do, go for the crotch instead, but you are not certain he wouldn’t actually stab you with his claws if you kicked him in the dick, since Wade isn’t in the room.

“Enough.” Your voice is low, your feelings are a mess, but most of all you are tired. You can’t really make out Logan’s or Wade’s either, it’s all just a jumble in your head now. Christ, you thought having one person sort of in your head was bad, this is just so much messier. Logan hands you your jacket, this one you are allowed (fucking silly as that sounds) to put on by youself. You do it slowly, staring down on the floor, and resolutely not on Logan, or his boots. 

Which is why it’s a short way for your gaze to move as you hear the patter of small paws and claws on the floor, quickly followed by Wade’s pink slippers.

The creature sets itself down at your feet, tail wagging, tongue hanging out. It has mostly grey-brown skin, covered with white tufts of what you think is supposed to be fur. Its eyes are big as it looks up at you, barking once, tongue hanging out of its mouth.

“What the fuck is that thing.” Wade steps forward, bending down to scoop it up.

“That is Dogpool, or Mary Puppins. Say hi!” Wade holds her up to your face, you recoil as much as you can while still seated, as that long tongue tries to lick you.

“Aww, she likes you.” You grimace.

“She’s hideous.” Wade gasps, pressing her close to his chest, pressing a hand over one ear like she can understand you.

“So rude! She’s perfect.” Logan snorts. “Oh shut up you. She takes after her beautiful papa.” You glance down at the cre-, no dog apparently, as you get off the table.

“The dog is uglier.”

“Aw, such a charmer!” You start to walk towards the door, or doorway rather, but are stopped by a hand on your wrist. You look down, and then up at Logan who scowls at you.

“Where the fuck are you going?” 

“Away from here."

“We need to-” 

“We don’t need to do anything. I don’t even know why I came here, I don’t want any of it. Soulmates are messed up, a thing that I don’t care about, a fucking cruel joke of a perverse fucking universe. I’ve seen way too many people get messed up by it all, and I will not be one of them.” You wrench your wrist free, bristling with the concern you can now feel push through everything else in the bond from them both. You send pure anger back, they both frown at you.

“Just read up on how to suppress the bond, learn the fucking mental gymnastics of keeping it and yourselves quiet, and if I start getting a migraine or achy joints, I know where to find you fuckers.”

“We don’t know where to find you. What will we do if we start feeling achy for your love and attention?” You are sure if Wade had eyelashes, they would be fluttering as he blinks rapidly at you, Mary Puppins still in his arms. It’s not quite as confident or flirty as before, he’s trying to hide how disappointed he is at your words, even as you can feel it through your bond.

“Suffer.” This time, none of them tries to stop you as you leave, grumbling to yourself under your breath. 

“Oh, I love how cruel you are pookie, so nasty!” You ignore the nonsense Wade yells after you as you take the stairs, ready to get away from this fucking mess. 

You have two fucking soulmates.

You want to scream, but there’s other people around when you get to the street, but in your mind it’s far from quiet.

FUCK.

(Part 4)

[chaoticrushu]

God everything about Lisa is so tragic. Her trigger event, being forced into villainy by Coil, her desperate attempts to find out as much as she can to prevent the end of the world, and her whole relationship with Taylor.

She sees Taylor for the first time and immediately knows she's passively suicidal. She can't let that go, if course she can't, she can't let another Rex happen. So she reaches out, she invites Taylor to join the Undersiders, knowing the whole time Taylor's lying from the start. She gives her a friends/family/a support group, desperately hoping to give Taylor a reason to live. She takes her shopping, hoping to boost Taylor's confidence in herself. She pushes Taylor to go out with Brian, because she knows Brian has the same feelings, and she thinks it'll both help Taylor feel more tied to the group and help make her happier.

And it kinda works. Taylor gains confidence, she's stronger, she's happier.

"I'm sorry," Lisa put her hand on my shoulder. I felt grateful that she wasn’t pulling away or laughing. It was the first time I’d ever really talked about it, and I wasn’t sure I could’ve dealt if she had.

Shell 4.3

It kind of surprised me, but I realized what I was saying was true, so I didn’t even need to worry about tipping Lisa off. A second later, I realized I might have been a little presumptuous.

"I mean, assuming that we are frien—"

"If you finish that sentence,” Lisa warned me, "I'm going to slap you across the head." I felt the heat of a flush in my cheeks and ears. "Yes, Taylor, we’re friends," Brian said.

Shell 4.3

"I don’t know how to say this gracefully," I said. I paused, noting the presence of a hero nearby who’d raised a camera towards me. Whatever, I’d say it anyways. "But you guys mean a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I couldn’t without letting on that something was going on. You’re my family, in a way. As lame as it might be, I love you guys."

Drone 23.5

"I know," Grace said, after a pause. "I get that. I get that there’s other reasons. Like the fact that you love those guys and you never loved us. Cool. Makes sense."

"I liked you guys."

"But you didn’t love us.”

"No," I said.

Venom 29.1

By Arc 19, Lisa's sure she succeeded. She averted another Rex, she saved Taylor. Even with how self destructive Taylor is, pushing herself so hard towards a goal, first saving Dinah then saving everyone, throwing herself in dangerous situations one after another, she's in a better state than she was before. But is Lisa?

Taylor and Lisa have somewhat of a distant emotional connection. As much as Lisa has helped Taylor, Taylor can't really do the same to Lisa. Because even when she isn't wearing a mask in a literal sense. she's always wearing one metaphorically, one that she almost never lets slip. So as much as Taylor loves Lisa, she doesn't really know Lisa. She can't. Lisa's given Taylor a support system, but she herself doesn't have one.

"Except you’ve been talking to the heroes, and you’ve had that to help center yourself, figure out where you stand," Tattletale said. "I haven't."

"That’s it? You need to talk to someone?"

"No. That’s not what I’m saying," she said. She sighed. "Yes. Kind of. It’s only part of it. Who the hell am I going to talk to that grasps things on a level I do? Do you really expect me to find a therapist and sit down and not pick him apart faster than he can decipher me?"

"You could talk to me ," I said. "Not when you’re part of the problem, part of what I’d need to work past."

"That’s not fair," I told her.

"No, it isn’t," she admitted."

Scourge 19.7

And that disconnect shows in Taylor's pov. Even in Taylor's head, Lisa is so often thought of as Tattletale, not Lisa. Even as she's eviscerating Taylor on personal level in 30.1, she's still Tattletale, not Lisa. Rachel is almost always Rachel more than Bitch, and I'm pretty sure Aisha is Aisha'd as much as she's Imp'd.

Later in the same chapter, she explains herself, her first time in the whole book being genuine and letting herself be vulnerable.

Me? When you shot Coil, I realized I was done. I’d helped you out of the same trap of despair Rex had been in. Don’t know if the road I helped you down was a good one or a bad, but I’d finished."

"But why be reckless? Why take the risks?"

"Because I did what I had to do, I helped you, and I still feel like the stupid, self-obsessed little child that let her big brother die. It wasn’t conscious, but maybe I felt like I needed to up the stakes. Pull something dramatic. Show that, with these crazy smart capes like Alexandria and Faultline around, I could still be the smartest person in the room."

Scourge 19.7

She's finished her project, she's saved Taylor, whether for good or ill. She's freed herself of Coil. And it didn't fix her; She still bears all that guilt over Rex. Maybe, given time, Taylor could have helped Lisa, returned the favour. But they never had the time, because so soon after this, Taylor is outed, and things escalate, and Taylor is gone. I can't imagine what that did to Lisa, but it I'd guess that it means that her one true friend, probably the only person who even comes close to understanding her, is gone. Of course, she keeps in touch. But the letter she sends, its so impersonal, naught more than a status report. Whereas Brian and Rachel's are emotional and personal, confessions of their feelings. (I love Taylor and Rachel's relationship so much, but that's not the point here.) And when they meet all meet back up before Behemoth, the only thing she says to Taylor is asking her to survive. I think that even though she said she felt like she'd succeeded fixing Taylor, she was still doubting. Taylor is Taylor, I don't think she ever really could have been saved just by who she is. And Lisa could probably tell.

With a touch more seriousness, Tattletale said, "No dying, okay, Skitter?"

"Weaver," I corrected.

"Skitter," she said. "Here, today, you’re Skitter. Consider it a good luck charm. And no dying . I’ll say it as many times as it takes, until it gets through to you."

...

“Just remember,” Tattletale called out, “You’re officially Skitter today. Don’t be a hero. No point to all this shit if you do something brave and get yourself killed.”

Drone 23.5

And it all leads to Khepri. Taylor ruining herself, letting someone alter her brain to such an extent in a desperation to beat Scion. And it kills Lisa

"You couldn’t have made it easy?” Tattletale asked, looking down at it. “Because standing by while you do this… that’s fucking hard . It’s honestly easier if I’m on their side and I’m helping them stop you. If I can blame the fuck-up job Panacea did to your head."

"While I’m saying all this, kiddo, you gotta know I love you. I adore you, warts and all. You saved me, as much as I like to think I saved you. All this stuff I’m bitching about, it’s the same stuff that got us through some pretty hairy shit, and I love you for it as much as I groan about it. You’re brilliant and you’re reckless and you care too much about people in general when I really wish you’d leave things well enough alone and be selfish. But this?"

"Shit ," Tattletale said. "You gotta forgive me, just this once. Because seeing this and knowing what you pulled hurts enough that I gotta say this. This makes me feel really sorry for your dad, because I’m starting to get a sense of what you put him through.

Speck 30.1

Like, god. The tragedy of loving Taylor Hebert, a stubborn, persistent, unyielding person, one who doesn't value herself but will give everything to fight for her friends. For all that Lisa could try and do to save her, for all the happiness she could try and give her, it didn't work. Taylor becomes Khepri, and she loses her forever. I'm don't even know if Lisa knows what happened to Taylor, that she's on another earth, safe with the opportunity for genuine happiness without all the crises, able to be a regular person. Or does she assume Taylor died, maybe at the hands of a cape traumatised and angry and being mind controlled, maybe because of her own shard destroying her?

Does she ever regret trying to fix Taylor? Does she ever think back on it and wonder if Taylor would be better off if she hadn't guided her into villainy?

[happy-mimin]

ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP, IM AT MY LIMIT WITH YOU!!! your smut is so fucking good ON GOD (and I’m an atheist 😫) so, like, about toby and the whole baby trapping thing…. uhhhhh. could you maybe like, do some hc or a short little story? pretty please 🥺

Yes baby, I can.

I don’t know whyyyyyyyyy but it’s been itching at my brain for that Drabble I did of Toby for a while.

Dark content? Dark content. I know y’all hypocrites see that warning so don’t get mad at me.

☇ ♡ “Shhhhh… my d-darling.” Calming down was like a needle in a haystack when the man behind you was enjoying the rancid fear spilling from your body. He can smell it. You cried out loud with a small shriek, his rough palm pressing so gently against your lower abdomen as he then gently massaged it.

She’d bite into the dirty cloth that kept her noise’s muffled with ease. Her focus all over the place whilst he climbed on top of your small frame, making sure to press his weight into you to keep your squirming still.

“H…Hey..h-hey, easy there. I’m not gonna kill you, y-y-yknow?” He said, like there was venom behind those words. You knew Toby was sweet, he always were to you. Bringing you candies, telling you stories about his family, and even little jewelry here and there. So you cried, wondering why he was doing this to you now. His rough hands pulled at the corners of your sweatpants with ease, letting the clothing tug as far to past your knees before you yelped when a familiar hand was caressing your hot sex.

He gritted his teeth.

Tears began to swell in your lash line as he eased his finger into your hole, serenading you with sweet words of encouragement as if he was your lover. “You got this..s-so wet..” he’d press his lips into the nape of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your adrenaline and perfume. He couldn’t help but shiver, a twisted grin displaying on the man lips when he started to pump his finger in a back and forth motion, which led you to believe he was actually going through with this. Toby gleamed his eyes into your own with an eagerness growing every time his slick digits would pull from your slick pussy.

The embarrassment took it’s course from there on with the little wave of pleasure as well, subconsciously you’d open your thighs wider for more stimulation and he took the hint. Gladly removing his belt and pulling his hand away from your hot sex, never breaking eye contact once when he’ll pull his weight off of you and use both of his arms to pull your legs closer to his broad shoulders. You keened as he positioned his girth against your pussy, the cream slightly admitting from it being used as the only lube before he heaved when feeling the tight muscles of your entrance suck in his tip. “O-Oh god.” He cried softly. The man not even wanting to hold back before he plunged his girth into the warm embrace of your womb, y/n eyes damn there rolling to the skies before he started this ravaging pace.

Y/n moaned in euphoria and disgust almost at the same time, each time he’ll rock his back and forth in such an motion that had her pussy leaking into the sheets of the bed. He reached his hand over the bed frame to grab ahold of it in a vice grip, your moans were so sweet, like honey dripping down your lips each and every time he’ll make sure to hit that one gooey spot. “I need to put a baby in y-…you..youuu..” Toby would coo next to your ear in a pant, while you were to drunk out to understand what he said. Wet sounds of sex filled the room by now, along with the audible creaking of the bed before he stopped for a moment and grabbing onto your hips quickly before lifting you up from the mattress. “Toby..- ??!” You choked immediately when he had you pierced on his cock once more in this new position.

“Fuck fuck fuck fUU..!!!” He’ll never forget how your pussy was gripping at him right now, the delirious twitches to the sudden grips as he continued to fuck you dumb. Poor you by now was on your last bit of energy and even stamina. Letting your “best friend” use you like a breeding hole until he was satisfied with the result of you having his baby. “Ouuu..w-wait..!!” You’ll cry because of the sudden wetness that started to soak his girth, which resulted in Toby throwing his head back in soft bliss and a growl as he felt him and you climax together. You’re mouth became gaped open from such ecstasy, though you could still feel his hot seed fill you to the brim of your cervix and even some oozing out from your womb.

“Oh..o-oh..Your a mommy now. I-I-I’m..so happy.” He’ll exclaim into the shell of your ear softly, while placing his sweaty palm against your back and plopping down onto the covers with you as well. You were trapped.

[themournwatcher]

Jurian Amell

well I had @demandthedoodles and a few others peek this for me and I’ve decided to post it but you could consider it a continuation of this post about Trystan 😌 anyways here’s jurian amell pov

no warnings and features Fenris!

—————

The chill was pervasive in Hightown. It was worse than in the lower levels of the city, where packed bodies provided heat in passing and the busy markets usually had warm fires to gather around. It was made worse by the wet tendrils of hair that still curled around his cheeks. Jurian’s breath frosted in the air as he sighed; the moment that he heard the click of the door behind him, his easy smile fell away. His shoulders dropped, and he fished in the dark for the large rucksack he had tucked behind one of Leandra’s potted plants. Trystan’s cutting gaze had made it clear that—after only one night—he had already worn out his welcome.

He fished his cloak out of the pack before throwing it over his shoulder; the cloak was long and warm and stubbornly stitched, and it obfuscated his figure in the dark. Upper nobility or not, he was still in Kirkwall, and he knew well the leering eyes that followed him on the streets. It put him at ease knowing that they would have to look a little harder and come a little closer, and by that point they wouldn’t know what had hit them.

With another sigh, he turned to escape the looming heights of the Amell estate, only to stop short when he realized that someone was blocking his path. Blinking in the dark, Jurian’s heartbeat slowed once he recognized a familiar face.

“Fenris,” he said. “I thought that you’d left already.”

“I walked Isabela back to the Hanged Man,” Fenris answered, “but I was actually on my way to my own home when I saw you leaving. I thought that you said you were staying in Kirkwall for some time.”

Jurian glanced back at the home of his namesake—it wasn’t his family inside, not anymore. “I am,” he said. “You know how it is, though, right? Leandra is already a crowd with those two. Trystan and Anders are all over each other. I’d just be getting in their way.”

Fenris paused, and then tilted his head. His breath came softly, little wisps of frost in the air, illuminated by the moonlight. “You don’t have anywhere else to go.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m charming,” Jurian said, and he flashed Fenris a smile that others had purportedly put to song. He had never heard such poems, not in all of the years he’d heard rumors of them. “Someone will take pity on me and bring me home.”

Fenris didn’t return the smile. “You could come back to my mansion.”

Jurian stopped rubbing his arms beneath his cloak; he hadn’t realized how cold he’d grown, but Fenris’s offer was enough to stop him still. “I thought you didn’t like mages much,” he said, without thinking. He grimaced, but Fenris didn’t waver.

“I don’t,” he said, “but I like the thought of leaving you out on the streets even less. Besides, it would be much easier to keep an eye on a rogue mage under my own roof. It’s the least I can do for Hawke’s family.”

Jurian, sensing that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, nodded to indicate that Fenris should lead the way. He scrambled for something to say to break the uneasy silence—something besides their footsteps. “It’s strange to hear all of you call him Hawke.”

“I think, for that reason, it is stranger to us to hear you call him Trystan.” Fenris paused for a moment. “In fact, I don’t think I had heard his first name before that first time that you came to visit. I had only known him as Hawke.”

“Maybe I should have you all start calling me Amell,” Jurian japed. He thought it would fall flat between them, but Fenris allowed for a small smile. “It doesn’t quite ring the same, does it? In any case, I… I should thank you. For giving me somewhere to stay for the night, I mean. I know your home and solitude is important to you.”

Fenris didn’t say anything, and for a few moments, Jurian was worried that he had overstepped—again. Of all of Trystan’s friends, Fenris had always been the hardest for him to parse out. Between his distaste for mages—quite justified—and his naturally reserved demeanor, Jurian had never known just where he stood with him. In fact, there was a small part of him that still expected Fenris to tell him to sod off and find somewhere else to sleep.

Not that it would be an unusual expectation, really. Trystan had practically said as much, even if it was with his body language alone. Jurian knew well when he wasn’t wanted, and the last thing he wanted to do was test his luck with his remaining, living kin. ‘Kin’ was the word for it–not family. It might be his name over the door, but he wasn’t welcome right now.

“It is,” Fenris finally said. “But the mansion is large. I wouldn’t have offered it if I thought that your presence would be pervasive in any way.”

To that, Jurian nodded. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as they made their way through the streets of Hightown; the path to the mansion from the Amell estate brought them through twisting alleys and across the path of the Chantry, but no Templars stopped them, to which Jurian could have breathed a sigh of relief. He was so focused on staring at his boots and praying to Andraste that no one would call out to them that he almost didn’t hear Fenris speak up again.

“How long are you going to be in Kirkwall?” He asked, and Jurian looked up just in time to stop himself from walking right into his back. Fenris, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy searching for what Jurian assumed was a hidden key.

“I don’t know,” Jurian admitted, raising his head up to admire the facade of the mansion, where the black stone was built into the walls of the city. “It’s hard to say, if I’m being honest. I… I’m looking for someone, you see.”

Fenris looked back at him, key in hand, with a brow raised and waiting for the rest of the sentence. Jurian blinks under the intensity of his gaze, but quickly draws himself up—composure included. In his boots, he’s taller than the elf, but he imagined that without them they’d be around the same height.

“Well, I’m sure you know that when mages—well, you might not know– might not care– that’s besides the point,” Jurian sighed. “When my mother found out her firstborn child had magic, well… It was devastating for the Amells. For her, I should say. I was taken away and sent to the Circles in Ferelden, and so were my siblings later on. Split up. I don’t know much about them other than their names. And my mother, I…”

The words were coming too fast for him to stop them, now. He felt guilty for dragging Fenris into his business, but he needed to tell someone why he was here. Trystan had proven that he didn’t care. “Well, she went missing. Nobody knows where, and my father is dead now. I thought that… coming back here, trying to pick up the pieces where they were first broken, maybe I could find her. Or some sign of what happened to her.”

When he finally looked up at Fenris again, he had turned away to open the door. Gutted, Jurian followed him in through the open doorway with his head held low. He had been asked for a simple answer, not his life story, and he knew well by now that he wasn’t really wanted anywhere in Kirkwall—he wasn’t really wanted anywhere, except maybe by the Templars, strung up in the Gallows and made an example of.

He had only taken a few steps into the mansion, balancing on broken tile and maneuvering by the moonlight filtered through the windows, when Fenris finally turned around to face him again. “Stay until you find her.”

Jurian blinked, and his voice escaped softer than he would have liked. “What?”

Fenris shuffled, turned aside but looking halfway over his shoulder as if Jurian could be the one to suddenly bite. “Until you find your mother,” he clarified, as if that were the part that was causing confusion. “It wouldn’t be right to let you scrounge for somewhere to sleep every night. Kirkwall isn’t like Denerim. You don’t know who you can trust here.”

But you’re saying I can trust you, Jurian thought, but he didn’t say it. “Thank you–”

“My room is up there,” Fenris interrupted, gesturing to a room on the far side of the foyer, up a flight of twin stairs. He then pointed towards a hall to the right. “There are more rooms down there, though, and a kitchen. You are welcome to any bed that appeals to you.”

The silence between them was deafening again, and the chill was beginning to creep up his back once more. When Fenris went to close the front door, Jurian took that as his cue to take his rucksack and make for one of the rooms down the hall—insisting on gratitude, at least for now, might strain whatever goodwill Fenris had chosen to bestow upon him.

He chose the last one, at the very far end. It wasn't that this room was more appealing than any other—it was smaller, and darker, and in relative disarray—save for one thing. The window, framed by tattered silk drapes, opened up to a view of the Waking Sea. The waves were gently tossing and glittering in the moonlight, and if he strained, he could almost make out the crash of foam against the rocks. His bag abandoned on the bed, Jurian was able to sit there, arms crossed on the windowsill, and bask in that sight alone.

The mansion was large and strangely empty—yet he already felt less lonely here than any night spent amongst those who were supposed to be his blood.

FIN

[avernusfuries]

Though she held the drow's eye, keen ears listened for the scrape of graves against the stone floors. As much as she would've liked to have lingered and picked apart the drow's journey into the underbelly of Moonrise, there wasn't much time to get her out without being waylaid by a patrolling guard. Well, the lot of them, as they would make their way over to the tieflings and Wulbren the moment they sprung Minthara out of what might've been her tomb. Tomb? Not quite — there was little doubt that while her mind might've fled, the vessel would remain. A harrowing thought, truly, and a fate Karlach wouldn't have slept easily on had she chosen to turn her back on her. That, she knew, was the steep price of being raised to consider what was right over what was deserved.

Even then, she knew that there were very, very few people that legitimately deserved it. She could think of one right off the top of her head, and, very predictably, Karlach felt that ever-familiar burn of hatred that had carried her through the first year in Avernus before the hope had fully kicked in.

"That makes a pleasant change from the last group of drow I stumbled across," she replied, and offered her a smile that she hoped was reassuring. Really, genuinely hoped. She knew that she cut an almost terrifying figure, standing as tall as she did and still cloaked in the cooled flames of the engine that lit up the little room. Not the blaze it once was, the barbarian noted with a small preen. She had been about to take her pack from her shoulders to offer her something to wipe away the blood. "Just act like they actually finished the process," she said, out of the corner of her mouth. A noise caught her attention and her head snapped towards the slightly ajar door.

No time for that, it would seem. Footsteps paused outside the door, and she had little doubt that their time had come. No time for dallying, it would seem. With a small, and very slight jerk of her head she bade for the drow to follow, as she flung open the door. Predictably, she was met with a scrutinising look.

"What are you doing with the prisoner, True Soul?" The disciple asked through grit teeth.

Karlach held her eye and mentally crossed her fingers.

"I figured I would take her to be my servant," she shot back brightly. A little too brightly to those familiar with the tiefling. Thankfully, this whole fucking place was filled with a plethora of complete and utter strangers. And a whole lot of bullshit, but she would sit on that when she didn't need to put on a show that was uncharacteristic.

She looked from Minthara, and right back to Karlach again and her eyes searched over her expression. She felt her heart plummet into her stomach and for a moment, she considered reaching for her axe. Her fingers twitched, before the guard smiled. It was a wretched, sadistic and terrible looking thing.

"See that you put her to good use, True Soul." And with a small salute, she moved back to her patrol, crashing up the stairs and into the main hall.

Karlach let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Fuck me, that was close." As a scrying eye passed, and with the absence of another guard (for a minute or two, at least), she grabbed it, turned and volleyed it right into the floor where it shattered like a mirror. "And fuck that thing in particular. Come on, we need to figure out how to get our frien- er, associates? Out of their cells."

As the Drow listened she glanced at the members that stood at attention with her rescuer. She recognized them, vaguely, as the individuals that had fought alongside the Tiefling when they had fought. A slight squint is given to the black haired half elf in particular before her attention is brought back with the hand of a sword to her. A red gaze examines the weapon before she accepts it by the hilt and immediately there is a shock of the weave that sprouts from her palm. The heat of flame magic dances across her fingers and it flickers along the blade and for a moment she cannot fight the smile at her lips. Yes, yes, this will do quite nicely. She turns the blade in her hand as she falls in line with Karlach, ensuring that she is close to her flank to guard her should she need be.

"I can comply with what is necessary." She starts, lowly with the tilt of her head, listening keenly to the rap of boots on the cobble stone. The guards were patrolling as per their duty and Minthara already feels the tension build within her. She swearing to herself that she would not be taken alive, no matter the circumstance. Minthara, now that she was returned to herself, was quickly finding that she would quickly prefer oblivion to enslavement. But even so, fighting while preferable would still be equal parts foolish.

Minthara wants vengeance, it would do no good to die now.

"What ever you plan may be, we should move quickly." She lifts the blade and sets it into the sheath hooked at her back, feeling the flames die off with the break of the weave between her palm and the hilt. She scans the others again and pauses - this time an eyebrow raises when she notes how one of the males held a staff. Straj, one was a wizard. Her upper lip quivered into almost sneer before she turns her attention forward once more in her silence. she would have to take on more of the load of their party when he falls - and he will fall, wizards were as useful as a gnome in battle.

"I will follow your lead." Minthara concludes, even as the pain pulsed through her temple and shot through the base of her skull. The ache between her ears would have to be addressed later, even if the warmth of the blood seeped down her neck from her ear. She needed to focus now, "Onward."

[thegrandlinesimp]

Takes place pre-series, I imagine Kid and Killer built the Victoria Punk themselves over the course of a few years while living with Doc. It was during those years they started dating, so anything marked as “pre-series” is set in those years. Kid barley has any experience sex wise, he kept going after people way too old for him (he didn’t want to be anyone's first experience when it was his cause it would just be two virgins fumbling around and he didn’t wanna make a fool of himself) before he turned 18 and Doc would shoo them away (man would sometimes appear out of nowhere and it’d freak Kid out), so all he knows is what he saw at the pleasure house his mother worked at and the things he and Killer have tried. I mean he’s heard about a few things, sure, but it’s not like people openly talked about gay sex on their island.

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: nothing, just good ol’ ass eating and anal sex

The tension in Kid’s muscles slowly bled out as Killer dug deeper into his back with the heel of his palm. The older man was straddling the back of his thighs, massaging out a deep knot in his lower back he’d gotten from overworking that day on the ship. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement as - with every third or fourth movement of the blonde’s torso - he felt a clothed, steadily growing erection bump against his covered ass.

The redhead snorted, “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“How so?” Killer asked way too nonchalantly to be a coincidence.

“Your dick says so,” Kid sniggered.

The older man froze, and Kid smirked, trying to save his frien- boyfriend some embarrassment by burying his face in the pillows he was laying on, shoulders shaking in repressed laughter.

It was still weird, up till three months ago he’d always seen Killer as ‘friend’, ‘boyfriend’ felt odd on his tongue when he said it, too soft and sweet. Maybe he’d come up with something different…

Significant other?

The cringing sensation in his chest told Kid to put that at the very bottom of the list.

“I…didn’t think you’d noticed,” Killer mumbled.

“Hard not to, with that monster you’re packing,” Kid chuckled, “so? Random boner, or something’s got you all worked up?”

“Just…thinking.”

Ohhh, this had to be good. Last time Killer was turned on from ‘just thinking’ Kid found his wrists tied to the headboard, his body near folded in half, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as the blonde plowed into him.

Fuck, now he was getting excited.

“Well?” If this was like last time, he’d have to pry it out of his lover.

…Eh, the spot above ‘significant other’ with that one, coy and sexy, but still a little cringy.

Shit, what else was there at this point?

“It’s…you might find it gross.”

“Oh, so it was ‘weird’ with the bondage and coming a bunch of times, but now it’s ‘gross’,” Kid was grinning from ear to ear by now, he turned his head so he was looking back at the masked blonde, “look, so long as all you do is come on me, I’m good.”

Killer seemed to straighten a little at that, “I…I wanna…well…eat you out…”

Kid’s mind went blank as he frowned, “I’m not a chick!”

“N-no,” blonde hair flopped from shoulder to shoulder as Killer shook his head, “I meant your, well…ass.”

He pursed his lips for a moment in thought, before saying with a shrug: “Eh, alright then.”

“Is…is that it?” Killer asked, “just…’eh’?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Kid huffed, glaring at him, “I mean, sure, it’s weird, but I thought the bondage thing was too and I fucking loved that. So I’m thinking, why not try it?”

As he’s been talking, Killer had taken his mask off and placed it on his side of the bed, Kid tried his best to not smirk at the deep blush the older man was sporting. Killer was quite easily flustered for a man with such perverted thoughts, though once he really got into it, a beast seemed to come out, primal and greedy.

He craved the feeling of that beast’s claws on him.

“O-okay,” Killer muttered, “so, um, just stay there like that.”

Obviously, Kid thought, as he shifted fully onto his front again with a slight roll of his eyes.

Honestly? He wasn’t expecting a lot out of this, he in no way thought it’d feel as good as Killer sucking him off. But it was rare for the blonde to bring up the things he liked to Kid, so he decided to indulge his…

Amour?

Kid snorted right as the hem of his boxers were grabbed.

“Something funny?”

“Nah,” Kid replied, grinning into the pillow under him, “just thinking of dumb stuff.”

“Of course you would at a time like this,” Killer huffed, dragging the redhead’s boxers down, climbing off of him as he did, “have you washed?”

Kid had the decency to lift his legs to help him, coil of excitement tightening once his half hard cock was freed, “Of course.”

“Good boy.”

He bit his lip, glaring down at his pillow, doubting he’d never not feel annoyed at how much those two words affected him.

“Tuck your legs in,” the older man tapped his thigh with two fingers to make a point.

He grumbled, but found it too difficult to defy Killer when he got bossy in bed, face heating up at that fact as he lifted his bare ass and pulled bent his knees to pull his legs beneath himself. It left him open, vulnerable, face burning as his other half grabbed a taunt asscheek and gave it a firm squeeze.

…Almost, it was missing something, something deeper.

“You look to good like this,” Killer murmured as he kneaded his ass with both hands, “all spread out and desperate for me.”

“F-fuck off,” Kid tried to snap back, but let out a shaky whine as a thumb brushed the edge of his hole.

“And still trying to be so defiant,” there was a chuckle, dark yet promising, “I love it.”

A second later Kid twitched as he felt hot air on his lower back, a coarse hand stroked his thigh as lips pressed to his tailbone.

“F-fucking, c’mon,” he grunted, face burning, “get on with it.”

There is was again, that dark laughter that Killer saved just for him, “So bossy, I thought I told you, Kid.”

The redhead yelped as teeth sank into his ass, hard, almost bucking back if it weren’t for a firm, steadying hand on his hip.

“Bossy brats don’t get what they want.”

Kid bit into the pillow beneath him, trying to at least muffle the whine he’d failed to swallow. Instead of snapping back, he swayed his hips, face heating with his heart racing in shame as Killer’s breath hitched.

“Good boy.”

He didn’t even to try to stop the moan from that one.

Again, Kid yelped as something warm and wet brushed just above his hole. It felt weirdly good, his half hard cock giving a throb of interest at the strangely pleasant sensation. The next was around his rim, his breath catching as this time he managed to stop himself from making any embarrassing noises. Fuck, they’d barely just started and he was already enjoying it. Kid couldn’t help but get a bit pissed at his body, but for what like felt the thousandth time since he’d started dating the blonde, he reminded himself of one key thing.

It was okay to submit, so long as it was Killer.

Slowly he stopped fighting how good it was feeling, letting low hums and gasps as Killer’s tongue dragged and pressed against his hole. His cock throbbed, swollen and rock hard, dripping precome as he rocked back without thinking. Hands gripped his ass cheeks, spreading him wider, lips pressed to his ass as Killer’s tongue poked at his loosened hole.

It felt odd, if he was being completely honest, a lot like the first time Killer had fucked him. Though that had been a full feeling, whereas this one he wanted to both squirm away from and press back against at the same time. It was good, though, the soft, wet drag around his rim make his dick twitch as he groaned, unable to do much but fist the sheets. The tongue pressed and pressed, before pushing in, making him gasp and tremble.

“F-fucking- holy-!”

The blonde chuckled at the sound of his voice cracking, the vibrations making him bite down again on the pillow, cock swinging as he bucked back. Kid gave a shaky groan as the tongue pulled out, only to keen as it roughly thrust back in. The motion was repeated, again and again and again, his eyelids fluttering shut as he moaned and cried out.

“K-Kil!”

With one hand he reached down to stroke his aching cock, but it wasn’t enough.

“God, fuck!” He moaned, biting at his pillow as he palmed himself in rough, quick strokes, “Fucking- dick, put your dick in me already!”

Killer pulled away, panting hot breaths against his spit soaked asshole, making him shiver.

“Say that again.”

Kid couldn’t give a damn that he’d never begged without the blonde telling him to, all he cared about was getting that long, thick cock in his ass, “You heard me, bastard, put your dick in my ass and fuck me till I pass out.”

Killer was already pouring lube onto his hand, “Only because you’ve been a good boy and asked for it.”

The redhead groaned, swaying his hips at the slick, clicking sounds of his companion stoking himself with his lubed hand.

Nearly, not quite, but close.

His breath hitched at the tip of the older man’s cock pressed into him, easily sinking after the last few months of near nonstop sex.

“Fuck,” Killer huffed as his hips bumped against Kid’s ass, “remember how you struggled to take me our first night?”

“F-fuck off,” Kid panted, already trying to rock back.

“Mmm, but I love it,” the redhead gasped as the other man pulled out and snapped his hips forward in one fluid movement, “means you’re moulded to the shape of my cock.”

His breath hitched and he groaned as Killer set a brutal pace, grinding perfectly against his prostate with each powerful thrust. He shoved his face into his pillow, shouting and moaning as the blonde effectively rode his ass.

Fingers gripped at his hair and gave a harsh tug, pulling his limp, fucked-out body up. His back was pressed to Killer’s chest, the blonde never losing rhythm as he manhandled Kid into the position he wanted. One hand held onto his hip as the other groped at his pale chest, fingertips finding a nipple and twisting it mercilessly.

“Fucking- oh, fuck!” Kid cried out as his sensitive chest was tugged and pinched.

His eyes rolled, hips bucking in the blonde’s iron hold as he trembled.

“K-Kil, gonna c-come!”

“Then come, but if you get it on the pillow you’re licking it up.”

The harsh growl in his ear, just knowing that Killer had his teeth clenched as he fucked wildly into his ass, was what did Kid in. He doubled over and near howled, cum splattering over the bed sheets, a few streaks landing on his pillow.

Killer chuckled, breathless, “Such a messy brat,” he shoved Kid down, making him gasp, before grabbing his hair again and forcing him look at the cum covered pillow, “now clean up.”

Kid whined, tongue dragging over the streaks of white on his pillow that were already soaking into the fabric. Killer hadn’t stopped fucking him, making his body rock and bounce as his over sensitive ass was pounded relentlessly, his sob riddled cries of pleasure nearly drowning out the sound of skin slapping on skin. He could feel the fat, hot tears run down his cheeks as his eyes - half shut in bliss - rolled.

“T-too m-mu-mu-“ Kid tried to get the two simple words out, but his body didn’t want to do much other than take anything and everything Killer was giving him.

Though the blonde seemed to understand, leaning over him so his hands were placed just beside his shoulders. Instead of long, powerful thrusts, the change in position forced Killer to give short, deep bucks. It was no less pleasurable, but the drop in intensity let Kid take a proper breath, sobs morphing back into broken cries and moans.

“Such a good boy,” that deep, baritone voice rasped in his ear, “g-gonna fill you up, want that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Kid gasped out, petering off as the blonde sat back up and ground into him.

His body trembled as Killer groaned, giving two final snapped thrusts before stilling, letting out a shaky gasp as he pumped the redhead full, cock pulsing as he grunted. Kid whined and rocked back, he could’ve sworn he’d come again, just faintly, too fucked out to really tell the difference between what his blissed out state and an actual orgasm felt like at this point.

“Good boy,” Killer murmured, rubbing his hip, “always so good for me, Kid.”

He mumbled something incoherent, shivering as the blonde pulled out of him.

A hand stroked up and down his back, that dark voice long gone as his partner spoke, “Shower, then cuddle?”

Kid gave a lopsided smile as a pair of strong arms helped him up, “Yeah.”

Partner.

He liked that one.

[wolfpants]

wolf! Sorry you’re facing the terrifying plight of being ~perceived~, but congrats on the milestone!! ok I would love some drarry action (you’ve got me hooked) // “who is that?” xx

Hello you! This was very fun to write. And I'm glad to have gotten you hooked to this delicious ship! Also Idk why I'm so into writing them bonking in secret but there you go <3

300-followers drabble challenge - send me a ship and a sentence/word as a prompt, and I'll write you a drabble/ficlet! Still very much accepting requests and will get through them within... er, 2 weeks or so!

--

“Who is that? Is that who I think it is?”

Draco keeps his back turned to Pansy and Blaise; as far as they’re concerned, he is not listening.

(He is listening very closely indeed.)

“It is, you know. I’d recognise that terrible hair anywhere. He’s wearing it in a… oh Lord. It’s so sloppy.”

Draco scoffs gently into his champagne flute.

“And those robes need hemmed. Doesn’t he have… people?”

Blaise hums. “You’d think. Say, Draco?”

Draco’s eyelashes flutter rapidly as he struggles to keep his eyeballs from rising to the ceiling, to the very heavens above and beyond it.

He turns away from the mantel he is pretending to gaze into pensively, and offers them a bland smile. “Yes?”

Blaise tilts his head in a nod, gesturing to the other side of the room where Harry Potter is currently engaged in what looks like a very awkward exchange indeed with some elderly Ministry official, who, at least, seems to be leading the majority of the conversation full of bluster and fawn.

“Potter’s here,” Blaise then says, stating the obvious.

“Yes, I see,” Draco murmurs dryly. “Thank you for pointing that out, Blaise, well remembered that I didn’t bring my monocle with me tonight.”

“Oh, Draco, you’re always so catty when you’re breathing the same air as Harry Potter,” Pansy teases huskily, tapping her fingers against the rim of her crystal glass.

Haughtily, “Technically, Pansy, we’re all breathing the same air, because we all live on the same planet, on the same realm. Unfortunately.”

“I rest my case!”

“Does he look this scruffy at work, Draco?” Blaise asks, concerned.

“How should I know, I barely look at him.”

“Quite right,” Blaise says at the same time that Pansy snorts into her drink.

Eventually, when his friends totter off in search of more alcohol, Draco spends approximately four more minutes observing the mess on the other side of the room before he decides that he simply cannot take it anymore.

It just won’t do.

“It just won’t do,” he fusses four minutes after that, now nose to nose with Potter in private.

All it had taken was a look, in the end.

Just a single meeting of eyes across the party as Draco strode out into the wide, chandelier-adorned lobby and through to the men’s on the other side of the property.

Just one look for Harry Potter to follow him like a puppy.

“I’ve told you before,” he’s saying as he smooths some of Potter’s longer strands out from his face, tucking them behind his ears and back into the bun that is not sloppy, but rather rakish, thank you very much. “That you have to warn me when you decide at the last minute to come to these things, Potter, you know that I can’t control my frien—”

Potter plops down onto the mahogany bench by the sinks and spells the doors closed, leaving them locked and alone in the room with all of its shiny white tiles and gold taps and soap that smells like eucalyptus and rosemary.

Firm hands is what it takes to shut Draco up. To silence him, as they slide underneath the opening of his robes and around.

Gripping at flesh over tailored trousers.

Draco sways forward and puts a hand on Potter’s strong shoulder for balance. He hitches a knee up onto the bench by Potter’s side.

“Your dress robes need hemmed,” Draco says faintly. “Would you like me to drop them off in the morning?”

Potter’s voice, when he finally speaks, is gruff and low and highly amused. “So it’s yours tonight then, is it?” He grins.

Draco pinches his lips together and nods shortly. In one fluid movement, Potter drags him down to sit astride his lap and he buries his face in against Draco’s neck, beard scratching at the skin between his jaw and high collar of his dress shirt.

“If it’s any consolation,” he rumbles, and Draco’s eyes fall closed at this, “I think you look good enough for the both of us.”

Draco thinks about that. “Yes,” he whispers after a beat. “Yes, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

[duckymcdoorknob]

Can I Offer A Little Help?

Warning! This is a tickle fic!

Bestie is a little long btw. Just be prepared to be here for a while lol.

It’s 2.4k words btw

Ships: None

Warnings: Panic Attack, Angst, Soft Tickles

The Breakdown: Lee Izuku, Ler Mirio. Based off of the following prompt, “Y’know. You can stay a little longer if you need a little more time.”

Prompt: Izuku Midoriya has a life that’s packed full. One day in class, he breaks down. He runs as far as he can, hoping to find somewhere or someone that can help him. All hope is lost until he almost runs into Togata.

Tags: @cupcake-spice13

To say pounding would be an understatement. Izuku Midoriya’s heart was ripping itself from its cozy home in his chest. The boy tried to keep his breathing steady, tried.

But what had caused this? The 36 on his test? His neglect of himself? His own deprecation? Regardless of the reason, the boy sat antsy in his desk in Aizawa’s classroom.

His fuzzy vision didn’t help him pay attention much, neither did the static in his brain, or the ringing in his ears.

‘You need to calm down Izuku. You deserve no panic. When you succeed you can panic.’

Gee you’re quite nice, Izuku’s brain.

On top of the ringing, a multitude of voices just filled his head.

‘You’ll never account for anything. Maybe you’ll manifest a quirk in your next life’ Kacchan.

‘I’ll have to keep an eye on you, problem child. I can’t trust you yet.’ Aizawa.

‘Enough with the waterworks, you can’t be a hero if you’re crying all the time’ All Might.

They all were right, especially Kacchan. He couldn’t hear anything except those voices, and the ringing... Not even Aizawa hovering over him.

A hand gently grazes his shoulder, causing the boy to leap out of his seat and put his hands up in defense.

It was at that moment that almost everything stopped. The world moved slowly as his vision unblurred. His vision refocuses... why is everyone staring at him? Why do they all look so worried? Even... even Kacchan? Wh- oh. He was crying...

“Midoriya...?” Aizawa reached out a gentle hand, “Can we talk please?”

“N-n-no I c-can’t. D-don’ have t’ b-babysit me.” Izuku whispered, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed.

“Midoriya? What’s going on?” Aizawa’s soft voice was a shock to every other student in the room.

“N-No! B-back up! G-get away from me!” Izuku threw his arms up in defensive position as tears leaked down his face.

“Midoriya please come w-“

“NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME! DON’T TOUCH ME! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BABYSIT YOUR PROBLEM CHILD ANYMORE!” Izuku cowered away from everyone.

Just as numerous times in the past, his body moved on his own as he sprinted out the open door.

“Midoriya!” Aizawa’s voice rose in volume as he jogged to the doorway, “come back here and let me help you!”

All in vain. Izuku was already long gone. He didn’t know where he was going, he just ran. He ran past 1-B, he ran past 1-C, finally reaching the support hallway.

An all familiar flash of yellow and a red cape filled his vision, but he ran into nothing.

Suddenly, an arm caught around the front of his waist, stopping him abruptly.

“Woa-careful there Midoriya! You’re in a bit of a rush! Where ya headed my frien-“

Izuku paced around the support hall, hands tangled into his green hair, tears trickling down his pink face, muttering deprecations to himself.

“Midoriya?”

The boy snapped out of his trance again, “o-oh. H-hi Mirio. Nice t-to see you.”

“Are you alright buddy? You seem a little tense...” Mirio reached a hand out to comfort his friend.

“NGH- doNT TOuch me.” He threw his hands up and staggered backwards.

“Midoriya you really don’t seem oka-“

“Leave me alone Mirio! Since when are we friends?” Izuku spat, unawares.

Mirio’s heart squeezed. Ouch. But, he had a hunch that the boy didn’t mean it.

“I’m going to ignore that. Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Mirio pressed again.

Izuku was staring directly at the wall, muttering to himself.

“Midoriya?” Mirio waved his hand in front of the boy’s face.

“Gah! Oh-Hi Mirio! How are you doing my friend? Nothing to see here! I can see you’re busy with support! Okay bye! ” Izuku said quickly, turning on his heel to leave.

“Izuku please talk to me. Something is up.” Mirio finally rushed to stand in front of the boy, “you’re being inconsistent with your feelings and your brain is fogging up.”

Izuku sniffled as his fluttering heart slowly stopped trying to pry from his chest.

“These are all coping responses. So please...” Mirio stepped toward his friend, wrapping him protectively in his arms, “tell me what’s going on.”

The greenette kicked up a fuss, but eventually melted into the touch. When his knees gave out, Mirio followed him to the ground, keeping him secure in his arms. Izuku was suddenly hysterically crying in the hallway.

“It’s alright. Let it out, you’re safe here.” Mirio whispered. He rubbed his friend’s back, and rested his chin on top of the boy’s head.

“J-jus’ s-school an-and-“

“Shh shh shh, no no. Don’t talk. Just relax.” Mirio hushed his broken friend.

“C-can we please g-go somewhere p-pr-private?” Izuku muttered.

Mirio let out a relaxed sigh, “of course. I have to make a quick pit stop but we can head to my dorm. Tamaki should still be in class.”

The blonde gently scooped up the weakened boy and put him on his back. Without putting up a fight, Izuku buried his head into Mirio’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

He was a little better. Still crying and still a little staggered breathing wise. But his heart wasn’t trying to leave his chest anymore.

The duo walked back towards the front. Past 1-C, past 1-B, finally to 1-A. Mirio reached his hand out to knock on the open door.

Aizawa stopped his lecture upon seeing the duo, he went to the door with calm urgency. He stepped into the hallway to give them all privacy.

“Mirio thank goodness. I’m glad someone he can trust found him, I don’t know what happened but-“

“He’s alright. I didn’t want to press, so I’m going to take him back to my dorm. I might bring him back to class, I’m not sure yet.” Mirio responded in a hushed voice. His “backpack” sniffled and opened his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry sensei...” he could only usher a whisper as he hid his head in shame

“You’re alright, Midoriya. You don’t control what happens as an effect of your emotions.” Aizawa brushed his hand on the boy’s head, “don’t run off and scare me like that anymore though, we can work through it together. You got me, Problem Child?”

All three of the males chuckled softly. Izuku nodded slowly. Mirio muttered something to Aizawa that Izuku was too burnt out to care what was said. Soon his chariot was moving back toward the front door.

The golden sunlight shone softly on Izuku’s tear-stained face. The boy let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Oh gee, are you okay Midoriya? I can move you so the sun isn’t in your eyes.” Mirio’s gentle voice echoed through Izuku’s head.

“M’fine...feels...feels nice.” Izuku whispered, nuzzling deeper into Mirio’s neck.”

Mirio wore a very pleased grin as he sauntered toward the dorms. He was careful as to not upset the boy on his back, so he took his time with his walking.

When they arrived at Mirio’s dorm, the blonde gently removed Izuku’s shoes and placed the tired boy on his bed. He then turned to unpack Izuku’s schoolbag, hoping to fill him in on some missing notes.

“I’m going to help you finish up your lesson. I recognized it and have the notes somewhere. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. No rush. We have all the time in the world.”

“Mirio...” Izuku’s soft voice broke the deafening silence, “What if... What if I can’t do this...? What if I’m not cut out for the hero program? I’m not great at it academically, and it drives my mom crazy.”

The blonde turned around with a concerned look. He was met with the greenette gripping the bed sheets, breathing weakly and gritting his teeth as tears once again dripped down his face.

“I don’t deserve to be here... should’a picked someone else.” Izuku whispered.

“You....” Mirio put down the boy’s school work and slowly crept toward him, “astonish me.”

Izuku looked up to see Mirio’s, normally twinkling, but now cloudy, blue eyes kneeling In front of him.

“I understand horrible grades, trust me. But you...” he smiled widely, attempting to hide the threatening tears in his eyes, he couldn’t believe Midoriya of all people was worried about succeeding.

“you astonish me, Midoriya. I mean... your quirk absolutely destroyed you at first. You broke numerous bones, came close to never using them again... but you continue to fight. You continue to disregard your own safety for others’. You have the qualities of a true hero, the abilities of a true hero, and enough experience that one student needs in a lifetime. You improve every day, that’s... that’s what sir would’ve wanted. That’s what I want for you.”

Izuku sniffled and latched onto Mirio’s neck. “T-thank you.” The smaller boy whispered. The blonde happily engulfed the boy in return.

“How’ya feeling, Midoriya?”

“A little better...”

“Y’know, you can stay a little longer.” Mirio brushes a stray hair stuck to the tears lingering on Izuku’s cheek, “If you need a little more time.”

“Yes please.” He whispered with his first grin of the day.

“Ah finally.” Mirio spoke from his position in the embrace, “you finally smiled.”

“Hey...” Izuku whined, the smile growing.

“Y’know, Sir always had the best way for us to relax. Would you like to try?” Mirio asked, releasing from the hug and staring down at Izuku.

“Mmm... suuurrreee...” He hesitated. He was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen, Mirio would tell him a god-awful joke to get him to laugh.

“Okay I’m going to lay you down.” Mirio said gently as he did just that.

“Okay... I’m-I’m ready.”

Mirio smiled as he slowly and gently brought a hand to the younger boy’s side. He gave it a light squeeze causing the latter to squeak and jolt upward.

“Oh gee! I’m sorry! I should’ve asked you first!” Mirio instantly removed his hand and placed it on the bed next to him.

“It’s okay! Jus’ surprised me is all.” Izuku said bashfully as he laid back down.

“Okay I’m going to go in again.” Mirio placed his hand in the same spot, “Is this alright?”

Izuku bit his lip and nodded. The slightest contact was already making him smile. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t ready to feel happy again.

Mirio started to slowly squeeze the boy’s right side. Izuku lightly giggled, pushing his hands into Mirio’s face. He was embarrassed, but he knew this would be good for him.

“There you go! Just be happy! Be free!” Mirio cooed as he added a mirrored hand to the greenette’s left side.

“Mihihihihihrihohohoho.” Izuku hid his face in his hands.

“Yes?”

“Tihihihicklehehehehes.”

“Oh thank goodness. I was worried I wasn’t doing good and you were laughing at my pathetic attempt.” Mirio stated as he quickened his pace.

“nohoHOHOHO.” Izuku threw his head back into the pillow, “Ihihihihits sohohoho bahahahahad!”

Mirio’s tickly hands ceased for a second so their owner could clutch his heart in a dramatic fashion, “so bad? Oh gee. I guess I’m just going to have to do better.”

“Wait wait wait- Mirio I didn’t mehehEHEHEHEAN-“

Izuku broke out into gentle laughter as Mirio squeezed his stomach.

“How’s this?”

“Mihihihihirihihihohohoho! Nohohohoho!” To say the boy was embarrassed was an understatement.

“No? Oh dear. I guess it’s time for more drastic measures.”

Izuku shuttered as cold air hit his torso, the chilly feeling disappeared, feeling only as a torturous finger was dipped into his belly button.

“MIHIHIHRIHIHIHOHOHOHO! WAIHIHIHIHIT!”

The blonde did just that. He removed his hand right away and sat next to the giggling boy. “You okay? Did I go too far?”

Izuku refocused to see his “evil” attacker. Sitting by his feet with a very concerned look.

“Oh. I’m okay... heh. Sorry, force of habit.” Izuku muttered as he turned his blushing face away from Mirio.

“As long as you’re feeling alright. Should I keep going?” Mirio replied with a beaming grin.

“uhm...”

“Midoriya?”

“Y-Yes p-please.” Izuku hid his head under one of Mirio’s pillows.

Mirio grinned wickedly. “Don’t hide from me!”

He had a grand idea. Time for the ol’ switcheroo. He brought a hand up to Izuku’s stomach and squeezed around the boy’s bellybutton.

“Mihihihirihihihohohoho!” Izuku squealed from under the pillow, “stahahahappihihihit.”

He did just that again, but... when Izuku inched toward him for more contact, he squeezed the boy’s sides rapidly, causing him to jump.

“Pick a spot already! No teheheheasihihihihing!” Izuku squeaked from his abode under Mirio’s pillow.

Mirio lifted his hands. “I am! I picked your sides! And then your tummy, and your sides again, and then your belly button and then-“

“Okay okay I get it I get it! So embarassiiiiiing.”

The blonde grinned. It’s time for the plan. When Mirio started squeezing Izuku’s sides, he lightning quick moved to the boy’s foot. While gripping the ankle with one, Mirio spidered the fingers of his other hand over the boy’s socked foot.

“PFFFH- MIHIHIHIRIHIHIOHOHOHO!” Izuku squealed, throwing the pillow off his face, “NOHOHOHO FAIHIHIHIHIHIR!”

“Hey you asked me to pick a spot!” Mirio replied nonchalantly, “I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

“NOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHO FEEHEHEHEHEET!”

Mirio abruptly stopped and released the boy’s foot. “Sorry. Too far?”

“N-no...don’t m-mind it, just too t-t-ti-gah...” the greenette’s face flushed red as a blush crept up from his neck to his ears.

“What’s wrong Midoriya? Your feet too ticklish?” The blonde inquired, sneaking in a few scribbles every now and then.

“Mihihihirihihiohohoh dohohohohont sahahahahay thahahahahahat.”

“Say what? That your poor feet are too ticklish. Aww poor Midoriya! Can’t say the word tickle. Don’t worry, I can for you! Tickle tickle tickle ti-“

“MIRIO OH MY G-“ Izuku yelped in embarrassment, pulling his feet out of his attacker’s clutches.

“Alright alright.” Mirio threw his hands up in defense, “are you all done?”

“Yeah... thanks Mirio.” Izuku said with a pleased sigh, “I definitely needed to laugh.”

“Not a problem! I’ll be here to ‘help’ you anytime.” The blonde replied with wiggling fingers.

“A-Ah alright! U-um- heh...Thanks Mirio. Really, it means a lot to know I have you in my corner.”

Mirio beamed as he went to repack Izuku’s backpack. “Come on you, let’s get you back to Mr. Aizawa’s class.”

“Can we stay a little longer? I’m not ready to face Kacchan and Iida. They’re going to pester me.”

“Of course we can stay! I told you, as long as you needed.”

Izuku and Mirio sat side by side on the bed, shooting the breeze before they returned to U.A.

“So... what’s this about you not minding me tickling you...?” The blonde teased, reaching up wiggling fingers.

Izuku gripped both wrists. “If you value your life, you won’t continue to ask me questions like that...” the boy replied, lacing his tongue with the most venom he could fester.

“Oh really? Gee I guess I should just ask All-Might sensei because I’m sure he could tell me if his protegé is just sooo ticklish and looooves every second that he-“

“MIRIO I SWEAR-“

Before they knew it, the two boys were wrestling. Mirio eventually won, continuing his assault from earlier. When he drilled a thumb into the hollows of the latter’s hips, the blonde discovered his favorite sound in the world.

Boy was he glad that Izuku confided in him of all people.

[lyallblacklupin]

My other half.

Sirius is very upset because his other half, James Potter, has been taken away from him. The James who used to hold Sirius after a nightmare has Lily Evans in his arms one particular night, which angers Sirius a lot. He thinks that he has lost his friend. Little does he know, there is a certain perfect Marauder who understands him more than he understands himself.

“And then what I got to see was Evans! You just don’t care about your best friend anymore because of her!”

“Sirius, I can’t take care of you all the time! And I want you to be supportive here, be my best frien—“

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean by ‘I can’t take care of you all the time’?” Sirius almost yelled at James, his chest heaving violently. James sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Pads, how many times I have to tell that Lily is now my girlfriend—“

“And what about me!?” Sirius knew that this was an unhealthy act of friendship and that was: Possessiveness. But he wanted to get this unsettling agitation off his chest that had been clinging him since the last night he had found Lily Evans buried in James’ embrace. Sirius had never felt so furious, and betrayed in his life. He wanted to lash out on his best friend, who was just like a brother to him. A non-biological brother who’d always been there for Sirius when his blood family sent him a shitty letters, and reassured him that he was not alone because the Potters were his family now, the same brother who’d been there to hold him when he had nightmares so he’d tuck him in his embrace and he could sleep a dreamless slumber till dawn, and then he’d go to his own bed. However, last night had been an exception, because the two brothers had an intervention after almost six years of inseparability, in the name of Lily Evans who had just started coming and going in their dorm, and Sirius felt like his privacy was assaulted.

“Sirius, don’t make this hard, please…” James flopped down on his bed, holding his head in his hands. Sirius hated that look because it reflected the exhaustion he was feeling, and it felt like a verification for Sirius that James was done taking care of him. Sirius knew that James had been taking extra care of him since they were eleven that even Remus and Peter had been annoyed and hated him for favoring Sirius more than he needed. Sirius didn’t want to feel like a child when he was a hopeless sixteen who didn’t have a girlfriend or anyone of his roommates to take constant of care of him. He knew that he was unfair with James. He knew that how much James wanted to date Lily Evans, and he also knew that he was being a pathetic friend and a mean brother to him for ruining his happiness by fighting him.

“Sirius?” James asked softly when Sirius was gazing hard on the floor, his mind in the trance of endless thoughts, and they just spiked up the guilt inside him.

But there was just this unnamed emotion of bitterness sitting at the top of his chest that denied him from acknowledging all of those facts about James Potter.

“It was the first nightmare I had without having you with me.” He blurted out, not looking at James at all. He believed that there was no one in the dorm except the two of them because if there were, he’d have been hearing gagging or huffing noises from the rest of the two marauders.

“Pads, I know. But what do you want me to do?” James’ voice sounded helpless.

“Nothing…absolutely nothing.” And with that, Sirius turned around to walk out of the dorm. He was reaching for the doorknob when his eyes side-caught Remus Lupin sitting on his bed, who had witnessed the entire conversation between them. Sirius thought his heart had stopped beating for a second. He fought back the embarrassment and scurried out of the room in a flash, hoping Remus hadn’t seen his flushed face.

Sirius spent his whole day with the rest of the Marauders, because James and Lily had gone to lake, hand in hand, together. He knew that James was giving him space. Peter was serving detention, so technically, Sirius got to hang out with the only Marauder and that was Remus Lupin.

Both of them were sitting under the tree. It had been an hour since they had been relishing the double free periods, and none of them had spoken a single word. Remus had a reason to stay quiet because he was reading a book of poetry, while Sirius was playing with the thorns of the grass, plucking and brushing them. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a reason to stay silent but because it was a ridiculous one that his best friend had finally gone out with the girl of his dreams, and he is being an absolute prat about it. Yeah, great one, Sirius! He internally mocks himself.

“Padfoot?”

Sirius praised himself that he didn’t yelp because he had almost believed that he was alone until Remus called him out.

“Moony?”

“You okay?” Remus’ amber eyes bored into him. Sirius had to look away for a bit. Remus Lupin was another story in his already chaotic life. In short, he was a mystery, even after he had revealed himself as a werewolf, who had a dying mother, and was miserably poor. Yet still, he was like a treasure residing in the depths of an island, and it never failed to tempt Sirius.

“Yeah, why?” He cleared his throat, but Remus was still gazing him.

“You are sulking.” Sirius could feel the smirk on his face without having to look.

“No, I am not.”

“I can tell.” He sighed, and Sirius thought he was done asking, and must have gone back to his book but he continued, “Your head is dangling low, your eyes are blinking a little too much, and your hands…well they don’t take a break from causing a wreckage like you are doing right now…”

Sirius looked down and saw that a palm-sized patch was created on the ground because of the plucking of grass. He looked back at Remus whose eyes were smiling more than his mouth.

“Congratulations, you just won the house cup for studying Sirius Black’ sulking postures.” Sirius said with a deadpanned face, and Remus laughed amusingly, putting away his book. It was a precious thing he did, because Remus rarely put his book away for anyone. Maybe Sirius was not just anyone for him.

They spent the afternoon talking and laughing, and Sirius felt warm and blissful to realize how much he enjoyed Remus’ company. He really underestimated him, and it made him feel all blue. He was gone back to sulking when James and Lily arrived for the dinner, while Remus was gone back to sit with Peter as usual.

The midnight was emerged upon Sirius as he had woken up from another nightmare. His vision was blurry, and he sat up on his bed. He was shivering and the covers were not helping him because he could feel the perspiration on his back and arms. James was sleeping alone because his curtains were not drawn shut, and Sirius was craving the human warmth but he wasn’t feeling right to go to him after their argument. He gathered his knees and pulled them close to his chest. He felt like crying because now he was recognizing that agonizing emotion inside him, and that was: Loneliness.

The reason he never had a proper relationship with a girl was because he never wanted to have a girl in his life. He had thought that his roommates were his only family, and they were the only ones he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He loved them so much. He let his tears fall, and slipped into his cover again anyway, curled up in a ball. He knew that sleep was nowhere near him.

Just when he thought he could change into Padfoot, he heard the rustling sound of curtains. He felt alerted and, in all honesty, scared. He knew that his mind was deceiving him. They were just the aftershocks of the nightmares, but then he felt footsteps approaching. He squeezed his night shut. And then—

“Sirius?” It was not James.

“Moony?” Sirius turned around to find Remus standing in his pajamas. His hair were sticking out in every directions.

“Can I sleep with you?” His voice was hoarse, and he looked uncomfortable.

“Of course, you can. Hey, you okay?” Sirius scooted to make some space for him.

“Nightmares.” He replied, and it instantly broke Sirius’ heart.

They both laid together with a respectful distance, facing each other. Sirius could hear Remus’ teeth chattering. The half-moon’s light was landing on Remus, and Sirius could see his knuckles turning white as he fisted the blanket close to his chest. His eyes were screwed shut. Sirius was able feel every move of his body. He placed a hand on Remus’ cheek, and those amber eyes snapped open. Sirius decided that it was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Remus smiled weakly at him. He was reaching to hold Sirius’ wrist of that same hand before Sirius grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him in his embrace.

He thought Remus would protest. Instead, he melted. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, wrapping his own hands around Sirius’ waist, pulling him impossibly closer, while Sirius did the same by enveloping his torso by his own arms.

“I’m here for you, Pads.” Remus whispered in his skin, and it made Sirius smile.

“I’m here for you, too, Moony.”

Both of them fitted perfectly into each other’s bodies. After when they were relaxed in their positions, Sirius looked down to see the Remus sound asleep, a contenting smile tugging his lips, and suddenly that emotion of loneliness inside Sirius dissipated like it never existed.

[travellingarmy]

║Venti║ Frappuccino

Requested from Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Modern AU. Fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

---

With the sound of the bell the hang just above the entrance, you would be greeted by the smell of a freshly brewed cup of coffee mixed with a sweet aroma from the many pastries that you would see before you.

Working at the cafe was no easy feat with the many people coming in and out in random times but as a university student that still had to pay for their tuition and dormitory whilst still having extra money left over for food, you couldn't complain. Well, not that you would complain. You found joy in being a barista.

"(Y/N), you're zoning out. Come on, we still have customers to serve to." Barbara taps your shoulder, gaining your attention. "Ah, sorry," you muttered, turning to your station. "Hehe, there's no need to apologies. I assume that you have an exam coming up?" she asks, eyeing you from the corner of her eyes as a customer waltz inside. You hummed and nod slightly. "It's a good thing that I met Master Diluc. Otherwise, I don't think I would be cut out to major in business."

After getting the order from the random customer, she returns to have a chat with you. "Stop with the 'Master Diluc'." She laughs. "It's a bit old-fashioned, don't you think?" And indeed it was, but he comes from a wealthy family so you saw it best to address him formally. "And don't be so hard on yourself and say negative things about your own capabilities! You entered this university by your own smarts! Diluc is smart as well, yes, but he got in due to connections along with his brother. That says something a lot about you."

Barbara was always good at cheering people up and supporting them. One can tell that she was quite popular in high school. She wasn't in the same major as you so you ended up being friends through working in the same cafe. She majored in music-- not that it should surprise anyone. With one look at her, you could definitely tell without even knowing her personally. You saw it best that she would become an idol and her personality will help her with that.

You smile at the blonde. "Thanks." She waves her hand in front of her in small motions in dismissal. "I'm just stating facts." You both returned your focus on your job afterwards, listening in on the chatter of others instead. Most were students so they mainly talked about their studies.

The bell rang once again, getting your attention. Coming in, was a usual customer that you learned comes around at 2 in the afternoon; during your shifts. Yes, there were other customers that you would recognize-- making them usual customers as well but this one was quite distinctive, you'd say. He had dark hair that was always braided on both sides of his head that had a natural teal at the tips of it. He would always come alone, only carrying his backpack- that had his laptop- and a notebook.

You don't know who he was but you figured that what made you so intrigued with him was his fluorescent green eyes that would seemingly glow even in the day. It was truly unique.

You look at Barbara who was busy making another customer's order and decided that you would be the one taking his order. Coming up to the counter, you put on a smile as usual. "Hello, what can I get you?" you repeat the words that you grew to familiarize yourself with as if you were a robot being programmed to say it to people you take orders from. In fact, you already know what he will get but it was something you had to say every time.

"Hi, can I get a venti-sized Matcha Green Tea Frappuccino and two double-chocolate chunk brownie?" he says, not needing to look at the menu. You nod, punching in the code of the ordered drink and snacks. "Please wait at the side." You see him walk away from the counter and take his phone out, seemingly texting somebody.

You made the drink in no time and brought it over to the pick-up counter along with his brownies. "Thank you," he said and take his order, then walking to a table and place his things. He sat down and took out his laptop and started jotting things down in his notebook, looking up at the screen from time to time.

You noticed that he brings in new notebooks every week. A waste of paper, you thought. You wonder what major he was in to go through so many notebooks each week but it was rather hard. You guessed business, but you have never seen him around the area so that flopped. He looked like a porcelain doll with his small, pale face and skinny body- that looked as if it would be easy to break- that you guessed he was probably majoring in one of the arts-- visual arts, drama, music. Something that someone with his size could take. You asked Barbara if he was majoring in music but she answered that she has never seen him around.

Well, no matter. The thought alone doesn't bother you as it doesn't hold any importance.

-

The following week, you didn't go to work and so did Barbara. Well, it wasn't as if you chose not to go to work, rather, it was because the cafe was getting renovated so it had to temporarily close.

Since you had no work to go to, you focused all your energy in your studies. When you aren't studying, you enjoy what little time you had to relax before suddenly getting the urge to study even more so that you don't fail-- sometimes even studying with Diluc outside in the campus grounds.

During those times, you looked out for the guy who usually came to the cafe in the afternoon but to no avail. At this point, you are wondering if he truly goes to the university. That was soon to be answered, however, when you went shopping for more school supplies. The area was located closer to the entrance of the campus so it was quite far away since your department was across the place. The department that was closest to the stores was the arts. It was always lively there with the students showing off their talent and skills. You loved going near there because it looked fun.

After purchasing the needed supplies, you walked back whilst looking at the students and whatever they were up to. Once near the exit that would say that you were no longer in the arts, you hear the strumming of a guitar not too far to your left. It was a rather familiar music but you didn't know what the song was or where you heard it.

You would have just acknowledged that it as a good piece of music and walk away if it wasn't for the fact that when the music stopped, a sigh was heard and the person shifted, allowing you to see their side profile that hid behind a small tree.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the person that dawned familiarity. You finally found him! With that said, your question as to what he was majoring was answered. Music. Looking at him, you see that he looked somewhat annoyed, looking at a piece of paper beside him, brows furrowing. All those papers that you have seen him scribble onto and later crumble it because it dissatisfied him were most likely his other works.

He was so focused on fixing the notes in his paper that he has not felt you watching him. His state made you pity the male. It was most likely a stressful thing to make music with the right notes that satisfied oneself. He was most likely here because the cafe was closed.

An idea came to but you don't know if you should go through with it, not wanting to appear like a creep to him by making a homemade Matcha Green Tea Frappuccino and giving it to him. That thought was quickly changed and decided that you will do just that tomorrow when you looked at him a bit longer.

-

You waited until it was 2 in the afternoon to make him his frappuccino and bring it over. You were glad to see him at the same spot at the same time. Otherwise, you wouldn't know what to do if he didn't show up. Now thinking about it, you always see him at 2 in the afternoon and wondered if he knew of his routine.

Walking closer, you see that he had more papers and notebooks than what he usually brings to the cafe. "Um, excuse me.." At that, you felt awkward that you walked up to a stranger and began a conversation just to give him a drink.

He looks up, his eyes seeming to glow brighter when they landed on you. "Oh, aren't you the one working at that cafe?" he asks, not needing to specify which cafe since he remembers you. You hummed and nodded. "Aren't you majoring in business? What brings you here?" Your breathing hitched when you saw him smile that you almost forgot the reason as to why you were there. It was adorable.

"Huh? How did you know I majored in business?" you ask. "When you aren't working, I see you studying with Master Diluc.. And I heard your conversation with Barbara from time to time," he answers. "Eh? You know Diluc and Barbara?" Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, I know Master Diluc because my brother has a business relationship with his father. As for Barbara, I see her exit class every time I go in," he says. Ah, so that's why Barbara doesn't know him. They have different times, you thought. "Anyway, care to answer my question?" His smile was still on his face when he asked. He seemed more relaxed than when he was working in his music. "Oh, right, I saw you yesterday and thought that you might need something sweet." You offered him the frappuccino as well as some homebaked brownies. "Ah! Thank you." His closed smile soon reveals his teeth, closing his eyes that crinkled at the corner. He accepts the drink and snacks. "Hey, why don't you sit down? It is a long walk from where you came from, yes? And it would be rude to just shoo you so soon." He pats the empty space beside him. "Ah.. Okay.." You hesitantly agreed, not wanting to make him sad at your early leave.

When you sat down, you suddenly felt more aware and felt the awkward tension-- well, you only felt the awkwardness in the air. He seemed fine, sipping the drink freely. Then, "Wah! This is good," he compliments. "I can tell when you make my drink and when your friend makes them." He leans close, putting a hand near his mouth as if to whisper to you. "Don't tell your friend, but I really like it when you make my drinks." He winks. You chuckled, feeling warm inside. "So, what is your name?" he asks, leaning away to give you space. "(Y/N). What about you?" "Venti!"

You smiled. "So, Venti, do you only play the guitar?" you ask, eyeing the wooden instrument on his lap. He shook his head. "I play instruments from all families-- the strings, woodwind, brass, percussion, keyboard, and guitar," he says. "However, I don't play the bigger instruments that require to be picked up because they are too heavy. I also don't really like drums. I find them too loud." You were amazed to know that he could play so many instruments. You have only tried a hand at the piano that you later gave up in high school.

"Which instrument do you like the most?" you asked, seeing as he already said which instrument he doesn't like playing. "Oh, that's easy! The lyre!" His eyes sparkled at the thought of the instrument. "There aren't many occasions where I can play the instrument so I play other instruments like the guitar."

It could be because your major was not appealing and boring that you found yourself interested in the topic at hand and started asking more questions. "Did you get a teacher to help you play the instruments?" He shook his head. "I have lots of books at home to learn from so I taught myself." If you weren't already surprised at his talent, you would be now. "All those instruments?" you ask. He nods proudly.

"Oh! Since you are here, care to listen to a song I've made?" he asks, eager to show you what he could do. You nod excitedly. He laughs and adjusted himself to be more comfortable when playing the guitar.

The song wasn't finished but it was enough to have you breathless. "I don't know how many times I had to rewrite the same notes but I hope this one sounded better?" he asks, turning to you when he stopped playing. You nod. "It sounded amazing!" The compliment made him bashful, scratching the back of his head as he chuckles. "I'm glad you think so! I hope I can finish this soon." He turns his head to look at the paper before returning his focus on you. "Will you listen to it when I finished?" You did not hesitate and nodded.

It wasn't too long since you two started chatting but it felt as if you guys had been friends for a long time. When the cafe opened the following week, you greeted each other with a smile with you already punching in his order that you have memorised by heart.

"Here is your Matcha Green Tea Frappuccino."

---

[dreamifics]

John Wick x Assassin!Reader!

Two Broken Souls

Chapter 1:

A woman push pass people in the busy and rainy street of New York, she was making her way to The Continental. She was covering her face with the dark hoodie that envelops her whole body..

Entering the hotel, the woman caught everyone's attention, but it didn't faze her. She sashay her way to the counter, taking off her hood in the process.. Small gasps and hush whispers filled the hotel lobby.

The woman was all covered in blood, her eyes were blank and cold but she was carrying a black duffel bag.. This was Y/N L/N or as the underworld calls her 'The Reaper', she's a highly paid assassin and anywhere she goes Death always follow..

They all know that she is the perfect epitome of Death.

Rumors has it that she even surpasses the infamous 'Baba Yaga'..

But the truth is Y/N was hopelessly and completely in love with John Wick, they used to be partners but he left her for Helen, given they were just friends but he left her high and dry.. Y/N had no hard feelings, she just wanted John to be happy and it was nice to see that Helen unconditionally loves the man she also love.. Helen was a sweet and nice person while she is far from that.. She's just a quick-witted, sarcastic evil killer and deep inside her she knew that she didn't deserve John..

Everyone she loves will only die..

Reaching the concierge, she drops her hand to the desk and drop some gold coins.. Charon gave Y/N a small smile, and accepted the coins.

"Charon, give me a room and some medical supply.." Her voice was cold and blank, Y/N is not usually like this to peoole she's acquainted with.. Y/N is just having a rough day, for god's sake she was covered with blood that doesn't even belong to her and to top that up she have a gunshot wound in her abdomen.

"Rough day, Miss L/N?"

"You could say.." She answered while her fingers tapped the concierge desk, Y/N was slowly getting impatient.

"Here you go..Room 12--" He was cut off by the desk phone ringing.

"Please wait a moment, Miss L/N.." Charon answered the phone but he still hasn't given Y/N her keys..

Growing more and more impatient Y/N wanted to grab the keys from his hand and punched him but Charon is her frien--more like acquaintance..

"Okay, i'll move her.." Charon said aa he ended the call..

"Miss L/N, you have been moved to Room 134..Please enjoy your stay.."

He gives Y/N the new key and she grabs it and made her way to the elevator.. She was confused that she has been moved, knowing that Winston is probably the one behind this action, she just shrugged it off.

The elevator opens and it revealed a man with a black suit and a long hair that covered his whole face, Y/N doesn't even need to see the man's face.. She knew that this was the guy she loved, the one who she still loves.

John was stunned at the person that is infront of him.. Y/N L/N, the girl he used to love but didn't do anything because he was afraid to jeopardize their friendship, so he moved on and that's where he met Helen.

He noticed that Y/N was covered in blood, worries shot through his whole body.. Y/N may be a good assassin but she never cared about the state her body is in..

"Are you okay?"

Y/N's breath hitched, she felt a lump got caught in her throat and her heart was beating out of her chest. The way his eyes travel to her face and body, it was making her weak.

"Im-Im alright.."

John forehead creased, he can see when people are lying to him but Y/N was a very good liar.

"Is that your blood?" He asks gesturing to her whole body.

"Maybe 2 percent of it, the remaining belonged to many assholes who got in my way.." Y/N tried to joke but it came out a little rude..

"I see you haven't change.." John gave her a smile, it has been long since he smiled like this.

"Ye-Yeah..I have to go." She dismissed all the feelings that was once bubbling up again, she entered the elevator and John got out..

"It's nice to see you Y/N, i hope we can get a drink later.." John offered but he only got a blank stare from Y/N..

And she was gone, the elevator has closed it doors..

Y/N doesn't want to see John ever again, she was broken-hearted when he left, the pain she felt can't amount to any gunshot wounds she endured in her life.

Y/N hoped that this was the last time she will see John Wick, the man she loves..

The elevator reached her floor, she walks to her door and unlocked the room.. Entering inside she flops down the couch and grabbed the medical supplies that was laying around in the table infront of the couch.

After she took out the bullet and stitch herself up, she took a shower.. Now she's looking all over her hotel room for any alcohol that will supress the pain she was feeling.. But she found nothing, Charon and Winston know that she always need to have an alcohol in her room but what happend? Did they forgot?

Giving up she went through her clothes and pulled out a black dress, she slowly took of the bathrobes that were covering her body and carefully slid on the dress..

Y/N wore a black leather boots, hiding a dagger knife inside and putting a gun holster in her legs.. She can never be too careful, she let her hair fall on her shoulders as she grabs the door handle and swing it open.

In that exact time the door infront of her room also swing open revealing John..

Y/N mentally curses at herself, she didn't want to see John anymore.. It will only made it harder to move on, she sighs and slammed the door as fast as she could.

John noticed Y/N but his gaze was immediatly broken by the slamming of her door.. Was Y/N avoiding him?

He closed his door and knock on Y/N's.. John heard Y/N curse at herself and the door opened..

"Oh!Hey John!Didn't see you there!" Y/N faked a smile but John saw right through it.

"Drop the act..Are you avoiding me?" John asks with desperation in his tone..

Y/N was frozen, should she tell John her undying love? But she was not like Helen, she wasn't sweet nor nice and she can't givr John the normal life he yearns.. Helen and Y/N are different, John would never love a girl like her..

She was a cold-blooded killer..

A frown escaped her lips as thoughts like that crept unto Y/N's mind.. Shaking off her mind, she focused back on John who was giving her a penetrating gaze..

"N-Nothing, let's get that drink.." She pulled John's arm and lead him to the elevator..

As she touches John's arm it send thousand of sparks to her whole body..

"So what are you up to?" Y/N tried her hardest to change the topic and not look into John's heartmelting eyes..

"You know what i did...How about you?Last i heard you were in Italy?"

Y/N did vacation in Italy--and what she means by vacation was assassinating enemies of the High Table..

"Just a vacation.." She mutters and the elevator opened..

The two got in and pressed the ground floor, an eerie silence filled the elevator..

"Vacation?Did not know that you take those.." John joked making you frown..

"Ha ha!Did not know you make jokes.."

The two just laugh and the ambiance became more comfortable..

"So how are you holding up?" Y/N asks, her tone was dripping with worries..

"I'll be fine.." His face turned into a sad frown, it made Y/N's heart crack, Y/N aches when she sees the love of her life hurting..

"Im sorry.." Y/N comforted the man infront of her and gives him a hug..

And in that action, John couldn't contain the sadness in his heart anymore.. So he closed his eyes and embrace Y/N's hug.. His head falling on the nook of Y/N's neck..

"Im so sorry John.."

She tighten the hug and rubbed his back.. Why can't Y/N seem to let John go? Why can't she move on?

"If you want help, i can help you.. Let's kill those sons of bitches.."

John chucked and Y/N felt the vibrate of his laugh.. Her heart jumped and Y/N's throat getting drier every second that John was in the crook of her neck.

"This is my battle..Besides you are the only thing i have now..I can't bear to lose you too.." John explained, meaning every word of it.. Does he still have feelings for Y/N?

The elevator door reached the floor and the doors opened, standing there was a smirking Winston..

Y/N frowned when she knew what Winston was thinking, he was the only person that knows her undying love for John.. She pulled back from the hug and exits the elevator..

John felt a little disappointed when she pulled away from his embrace, and that's when he sees Winston standing infront of them..

"Hey Winston!" Y/N greeted the father figure she looks up to, and hugs him..

"Ahh!Dear!I see you found our beloved John Wick..." A sly smirk tugged in his lips, John didn't know what that means but he did noticed the way Y/N shifted uncomfortably..

"Im going to the bar.." Y/N announces, leaving John and Winston for the bar..

John watch Y/N walks away from them, the way her hips sway as she move.. He remembered the first time he saw Y/N..

It was another mission for John, kill Alessandro Rossi, the man who planned to overthrown him.. He was in a club waiting for Alessandro to walk in, sitting in the bar and that's when he saw Y/N..

Wearing a tight black dress and sitting across the club, with a drink in her hand.. Y/N was also waiting for Alessandro, she was ordered to get some information from the bastard

He still remember the first sentence Y/N said to him.

"Baba Yaga?You know that names is really weird..Thinking about changing it?" The woman said to him as she pointed a gun to Alessandro's head.

"Wh-what now?" John was mesmerized by Y/N, the way she took down the bodyguards and her sarcastic remarks when Alessandro curses at her..

"You bitch!Im going to kill you and send you to hell!"

"Who said your going to live?" Y/N's voice was blank but it was also dripping with smugness..

"BITCH!!IM SENDING YOU TO HELL!!"

"Well you see--Im the Reaper..Im the one who decides who dies and im also the one who drag people back to hell!"

John was just standing there as Y/N interrogates the man.. He smiles at how sassy she talks to Alessandro and Y/N interrogation skills was top-notch..

"BITCH LET ME OUT OF HERE!YOUR A HEARTLESS BITCH!!I'LL SEE YOU BURNING IN HELL!!IM GOING TO KILL YOU!!YOUR GOING TO DIE WHORE!"

John's jaws clenched at the insults he spit on Y/N, he was always a gentleman.. And that is no way to treat a lady.. He was about to do something when Y/N grabbed a knife and stabbed his knee..

"I know there's a compliment somewhere in there and i'll take it.."

"You bitch!"

"Ah, there it is!"

John stood there with a big smile in his face and when Y/N was done getting information out of him, John thought that she's going to finish the job but instead she turns around and gave John a viscious smirk.

"Im all done!You can kill the motherfuck--"

"You said i'll live!!" Alessandro cried and Y/N just slaps him in the face

''I also said that im 22 so see you in hell.." Y/N gave Alessandro a wicked smile..

"NOOOO!"

"Do it.." She said walking away from the dark warehouse and going outside to get some fresh air..

John just looked at Y/N amazed before turning back to Alessandro who was weeping..

John also remembered the day he realized he was falling inlove with Y/N

Y/N and John began a friendship--more like a partnership, the two was the most highly paid assassins and the most powerful..

It was John's birthday and he doesn't celebrate but when he met Y/N, she keep insisting to celebrate so Y/N throw John some suprise parties but she always fails because he doesn't show up.

Except for one, it was a day before his birthday when Y/N left and said she was going to do a mission in Tokyo but the truth was she threw John a suprise birthday party. The only people who was invited was the two of them..

He entered his apartment and that's where he saw Y/N.. Baking a cake which she was horribly failing at that Y/N didn't even notice John walking in.. The whole place was decorated with birthday banners and balloons..

"Damn!This cake is killing me!" She utters under her breath..

"What are you doing?"

"What the fuck?!" Y/N shouted and she pointed the gun at him..

"Woah!"

"Sorry!Thought you were someone else!"' She pouted and her eyes widen when as she remembered that it was a surpise birthday..

"Oh!SURPRISE!Ugh!I ruined it!I was the one who got suprised!" She shouted making John laugh..

"What are you doing?Are you trying to burn down my kitchen?" He jokes making Y/N frown..

"Ha ha!So funny!Just shut up and help me bake a cake!!Im the infamous Reaper but this cake is killing mee!"

And that was the day he knew he was inlove with you..

"John, you should go for it.."

John snapped back to reality as Winston spoke, he stares at the man and just shake his head..

"I don't know what your talking about.." John push pass Winston..

"You know she feels the same way.."

This made John stop, is it really true?

Is it true that the infamous 'Reaper' likes him back? The memory of Helen suddenly enters him mind.. He felt guilty, like he was cheating..

"Helen would want you to move on.."

John growls at Winston by the mention of Helen's name.. Winston just chuckled and taps his shoulder..

"Kids nowadays.." Winston mumbles and walked towards the elevator.

John sighs and made his way to bar where Y/N was sitting, a whiskey in her hand..

Y/N mind flew to the endless nights she was crying because of John, the way she watch John from a distant on his wedding day because she refused to come.. It took a toll on her emotional and physical state..

The days where Y/N was down, she didn't even do her job right.. It was always messy, her mind was always flying.. She remembers the time she saw John and Helen having fun, that was the day she accepted her faith..

That she and John will always and forever be just friends.

She moved the glass to her lips, taking a sip of the whiskey.. It burned her throat but she was addicted to it, the oh so satisfying burn of the alcohol..

Y/N saw from the corner of her eye a man was approaching her, Y/N's hand traveled to her gun holster, readying it if someone does attack her..

"Am i seeing right?Or Y/N L/N is drinking alone?"

Y/N turned around to see the owner of the voice, a small smirk played in her lips when it dawned to her..

This was Alex Kavelj, a past lover..

Partner.

Friend.

And enemy..

The two of them tried to kill each other, like Mr and Mrs Smith only without the happy ending.. Y/N ended up winning but she couldn't bring herself to kill the man she used to sleep with..

"Well if it isn't Mister Alex Kavelj.." A smirk played in her lips, she turned back her attention on the drink in her hand but her other hand was still on her holster..

"Come to kill me again?" She taunted at the man behind her, she doesn't know Alex intentions..

"You know i wouldn't do that to you.." He purrs sitting next to Y/N, he signaled to the bartender for a drink..

A scoff escaped her lips as she sips her whiskey, and just shakes her head in amusement.

"Lies.."

"Come on Y/N!Believe me!It's like we don't have any history together.."

Y/N wanted to throw her glass at the man beside her but doing that will cause only chaos to the two of them.. Alex just looked at her, his eyes were burning with lust.. And Y/N noticed it, she felt disgusted..

Y/N regrets sleeping with Alex, they used each other.. Y/N used him as a distraction from John while Alex used her for lust..

"Keep dreaming.." Y/N's voice was filled with disgust, she felt a hand on her shoulders.. She was ready to pounce Alex but she sees the man she hates was still sitting besides her..

Turning her head, she sees John with a serious face.. Y/N has got to admit that she was turned on for just a little bit..

"Is there something wrong?" John asks, his voice was stern and filled with authority..

Y/N just give John a small smile and turn to face Alex.. She slowly let go of her gun holster, she felt safe with John with her.

"Just dealing with pests, that's all.." She said gulping the last bit of whiskey in her glass..

"Mind if i sit with you?" John asks, his hand still holding her shoulder..

"Well that is the deal.." Y/N smiles, she hears Alex scoff..

"Is this your new boy toy?"

"No he's just a fri--"

"Yes, i am..Now what does it matter to you?" John cuts Y/N off, her jaw was wide open.. Surprised at what John had say..

"Chill man!Just reuniting with an old friend.." Alex winks at Y/N making her shudder in disgust.

"Okay..Now leave.." John demanded with the coldest stare anyone could ever get.

Alex just laughs grabbing his drink and walked away from but not without giving Y/N a flirtatious wink..

"Call me if that toy boy of yours is broken!" He waved at Y/N but she just growled at him..

Turning back her attention to the bartender while gesturing a refill.. John sits next to her, moving a little closer to Y/N.

"Who was that?" John asks his eyes were filled with anger and jealousy.. But Y/N didn't see it, she was busy melting in his eyes.

"Just an old acquaintance.."

"Doesn't seem like it.." John growls..

Y/N eyebrows were furrowed at her friends weird behaviour.. Ignoring it she takes another sip of her whiskey, John motioned for a drink and points at my whiskey.

"Yeah, im totally lying..We used to have a friends with benifits thing.. Then we tried to kill each other but i made the mistake of letting him go.."

John whole body stiffened when he heard that term 'friends with benefits'.. He doesn't even know what that means but that does sound very nice..

"What that does mean?" He asks..

Y/N laughs at John's confused face.. She forgot that John doesn't know slangs, he only used formal ones..

"Oh, God!I need to teach you slangs.."

John looked at Y/N as she drink all her alcohol, she faces him..

"Friends with benefits is a sexual relationship without the feelings and commitment.."

John felt his blood boil, he never knew that Y/N was capable of doing that.

"You did that?With him?"

"Well--Yeah.."

"Why?" John said glaring at Y/N..

She felt uneasy, this was the usual John.. Always protecting her, treating her like she was a kid.

"Well--I was reall--"

"You shouldn't do that!It--Just don't do that again.."

Y/N was getting angry as soon those words left his mouth.. He was the reason why.. He was the reason she threw herself at Alex.. He was the reason she was a blabbering mess when he retired.. She wanted to scream that in John's face..

All those days she felt alone and small, that's why she formed a relationship with Alex.. He was just a confidence booster for Y/N.

"You don't get to order me like that..It's my life and it's my goddamn decision!" She screams at John, it was full of anger and spite.

People are now staring at them, she stands up and paid the drinks she had..

"See you around, Wick.."

John knew that Y/N was mad at him, she just called him by his last name.. She never does that, again she saw Y/N walk away from him.

A part of him felt guilty, but he shakes it off and exits the hotel to carry out the mission that was given to him..

Y/N walks pass Charon, she toss some coins to him..

"Bottle of vodka.." Those were enough for the man to understand.. Y/N made her way outside, she was going to kill another enemy of the High Table..

Sighing, Y/N made her way to the apartment unit she owns.. It was already dark, she reached the door of her apartment..

Slowly opening it, she enters cautiously.. She wasn't followed but maybe someone was waiting here for her.. She grabs her gun, and scope the place but she found it empty..

Y/N enters her room and went straight to the closet.. There was some few clothes but it was just mostly guns, ammunitions and files.

She grabs a duffel bag and shove guns and grenades there, Y/N was busy packing when she hears her front door rattle it was followed by a knock.

She closed her walk in closet and hide behind a post near the front door.. She was ready to kill this person.

This could be someone after her..

Gripping her gun, she carefully walks to the door.. Taking a look at the peephole she found her neighbor who was an old woman..

She opened the door but not fully open, she hides the hand that was holding her gun in her back.

"Mrs. Kranowski!It's late, what are you doing here?" She fakes a smile and the old woman just pulled out a letter from her pockets..

"Dear, this was addressed to you but delivered to me..I got this today but since you were not here i kept it..And then i saw you entering your apartment so im giving it to you now..."

The woman gave Y/N the letter, and she gladly accepted it.

"Thank you Mrs. Kranowski.." She didn't give a chance for the old woman to talk, Y/N already closed the door, locking it in the process.

She examined the letter, it did belong to her.. Opening it, she saw a letter.. It was from her father, the leader of the Camorra crimial organization and also the member of the High Table.

Y/N is the youngest D'Antonio..

Yes, she was another D'Antonio, the youngest and most ruthless.. Their father treated her like a weapon, ordering her to kill people and doing his dirty works.. Santino was the only one who treated her like she was human..

No one even knew she was a D'Antonio, maybe it was a good thing, even John doesn't know her true identity.

She sighs as the horrible memories flooded her mind, the way her Father forced her to take advanced assassination training at a very young age.. The rigorous training that almost took her life.

The killer instinct inside her was awaken at the young age of 12.. She had no mother to protect her from the wrath of her Father.. So she had no choice but to oblied to his father orders

She starts to read the letter, her hands shaking at the crude penmanship that belonged to her father..

Dear Amore Mio,

Im sorry for the things that i put you through, i blamed you for your Mother's death but you were innocent.. I broke you, i failed you and your Mother.. I made you do horrible things, but know that i love you.. You are my little stellina, you are my cuoro mio..

The day you were born is the day of your Mother's death.. I regret not giving you a normal life, not spending time with you.. And im really sorry for making you the worst and evil version of you.. But i do know that you still have the last bit of goodness inside you, and Winston also told me about that pretty boy Wick that you love so much.. You have grown up, you have learned to love someone..

My time is running out, and you, my daughter will live a normal life, that's my last wish for you.. Your siblings will fight over my position in the High Table and i know you will be stuck in the middle of all this.. I have a last gift for you, i gave it to Winston.. I get that you trust him more than you trust me.. So i left it to the guy you trust so much..

Gianna will take over my position, but you know that Santino would not bow down that easy.. Bloods will shed and im thankful that you won't be a part of it.. Don't do anything stupid and live a normal life but i know that living like that is impossible.. I love you my little stellina..

Tears were strolling down her face, she didn't know what to do.. But she hates Winston for telling her father about John Wick.. She hugs the letter, nursing it..

This was the first time her father gave her affection, the first time her father apologized to the horrible things he did.. This was also the first time he ever mentioned Y/N's mother, and the first time he said i love you..

Y/N's phone rang making her snap out of her trance, wiping the tears in her face she stands up and looked over the caller id..

Santino..

She accepted the call and unsurely put it in her ear..

"H-Hello?" Y/N's voice was hoarsed, her brother doesn't even need to tell her, she knew that her father is dead..

"Y/N!Father is dead.."

"I-I'll be there.." Those were the words that left her mouth and immediately ended the call..

That's where she broke down, silent scream erupted from her lips.. Her soul was broken again, she was on her floor balled up like a baby..

She suddenly jolted up when she remembered her task, kill Monuira Guisa, this man was planning to elimanate a member of the High Table..

Taking off her feelings and emotions and shoving them to the pit of her stomach.. She can't mess this shit up, so she stands and wipe away the tears in her face..

She washed her face and changed clothes to a more comfortable and moveable clothes.

Grabbing the duffel bag with the ammunitions, guns and grenades.. She prepared herself, taking a deep breath she exits the apartment but before that she enabled her security system.

Locking the door, she discreetly walks away from the building and made her way to the task that was given to her..

Y/N arrives at the hiding spot her target is in, she first scope the place.. There were dozens of boduguards, which means one thing..

He knew someone was coming for him..

A viscious grin formed in her lips, she was going to blow some steam off.. She grabs gun and daggers, hiding it in her boots and jacket.

"Let's kill some motherfu--Ouch!" Y/N was starting to walk when she tripped over a rock.. Steadying and readying herself once again and started to walk..

Ready to kill..

People hide.. Death is coming..

Y/N stands in the middle of the room, she was surrounded by dead bodies courtesy by her.. Infront of her was Monuira, he was bound to a chair.. Sleeping peacefully, Y/N took a picture as another proof.. Then she bring her gun to his head and pulled the trigger..

The sound of her gun echoes through the whole room, sighing as she felt guilt run through the course of her body.

She grabs her bag from the floor and continues to exit the death scene.. No one survived, nobody was left alive..

She went straight to the street leading to the The Continental..

[lordelmelloi2]

I am :eyesemoji: over iforgor.txt and machine-angel.wip can i know what thats' about :eyesemojiagain:

I'll just post iforgot.txt tbh I don't even think I posted this in the server either 🤔 (iforgor.txt under the cut) iforgor.txt was just a waverose drabble I wrote about candidity and the camera and wanting to preserve the images of someone you love in their natural state. Click the readmore link to see two idiots talking to each other at night in their shared bedroom!!!

"Waver." "Hm?"

Dim light in the bedroom soaks the corners of the room, soft shadows like brush strokes floating down the walls. Rose sits at the desk inside the room and turns around to see Waver undressing, raising his shirt just above his ribcage, visible in the gentle light, while Waver inquisitively holds his pose, waiting for Rose to finish his thought, although he knows that the blonde one enjoys watching him in various states of undress overall.

It is a moment before Rose speaks again, with Waver lowering his shirt back down as Rose begins to talk.

"I have something kind of insane to ask you." "How insane do you mean?" "Well. Um, if I explain it, it'll probably sound less, insane? Maybe? How do I put this…" Rose blinks twice and then looks away, then back at Waver's shirt. "I was thinking about how much I like seeing you in candid situations. I wanted to know if… it's okay if I take pictures of you every so often, just doing random things, just so I can have those pictures to look at?" "…Huh. That's not as weird as I was thinking you were going to say, but I'll have to think about it for a moment. Um, not that I don't trust you or anything. I'm sure you know there are probably times that I won't want you to take pictures, like if I'm crying or on the toile--" "No, and no yeah I wouldn't take pictures of you doing stuff that… you get the idea," Rose gestures with a downward palm swipe then quick flow to the right to indicate his disinterest. "I'm not doing this to push boundaries or anything. I just want to have pictures of you that I can look at, natural pictures. Photos where you aren't prepared to perform. Or even photos where you're performing in a different sense." "I see what you mean. Hmm… And you won't be sharing these pictures?" "Not without your permission. If it's something innocuous and I trust the other person i.e. it's someone like Gray or Flat or Svin or Melvin, is it okay to show the image to them? I don't have intent to send them the data of the image for the sake of your safety." "You mean to pull it up on your phone and to show them, right? I guess that's okay, as long as it's not something too embarrassing." "I'm not going to whip out my phone to take pictures of you doing embarrassing stuff. It's really more like…" Rose looks upwards and leans back in his chair thoughtfully.

"It's more like, the way you look with your hair draping down past your shoulders and dangling when you lean over to read something at the table, or the way you look when you're focused on studying or grading papers or writing, or even something like now when you're just taking off a shirt… little things like this. The way you cross your legs and the way you relax. I love to see you relaxing. When you go out on trips and I don't get to come, I miss you so much, and I miss seeing you just… existing around the house. That's why I was thinking of doing this."

"That's fine. Just let me know afterwards if you've taken a picture or two. It sounds like anything I would complain about you've already considered. Is it okay if …" Waver pauses and also looks to the side for a moment. "Can I do the same with you?"

"Nothing embarrassing, and also, don't show anyone anything, and also tell me after you've taken a picture. I'm a little paranoid about pictures of me being shown to people…"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, I forgot about-" "Nono, it's okay. If it's just for your eyes, then it's wonderful. I just don't want to be shown off without my consent. If we're together and with friends I might say 'show them that pic where I'm-' but if it's just you then I'd prefer not to be shown."

"That makes sense. Okay, then." "Actually, I have to ask you. Don't you ever feel the same? You're already practically a spectacle figure in the Mage's Association. I thought you'd be more firm with who you do and don't want pictures to be seen by…"

Waver takes a deep breath in and sits on the foot of the bed, looking idly forward.

"It's true. I have experienced a massive breach in my privacy on a constant level because of how I live. There's not much I can do about it. Being a Lord of the Clock Tower means I have to be okay with some degree of lacked privacy. That includes being spied on or recorded."

"Doesn't that bother you?" "Of course it does. But if it's family, like you've described, it doesn't make much of a difference to me. If my family sees it, then it's no different. And," Waver smiles gently. "I really don't mind candid pictures that much. It captures a moment in time. For both of us, because we treasure our memories, photography is an incredibly viable avenue to try to keep these memories close to our hearts. So, given your circumstances and amnesia, I think it's okay if you take pictures of me every so often."

"…I remember you said Camus used to do that, too." "Camus didn't have bad intentions. It's different when the person behind the lense loves you." "I haven't really experienced that a whole lot, yet." "You know," Waver coughs briefly. "If you're really not comfortable with it, I don't have to reciprocate this. It's no bother."

Rose pinches the bridge of his forehead, closing his eyes.

"You know, I'm not sure if it really bothers me all that much. I've had friends and other photographers and cameramen take pictures of me candidly and really enjoyed it. Maybe it just has to do with pictures of me around the home." "I can keep it to just pictures of you in public if that's what you'd like." "But at the same time, it feels like those pictures are also just part of performance. And I …" Rose pauses. "I'm supposed to be trying not to exist in that constant state anymore, I think?"

"It's no shame to not want to be photographed before you can look decent on camera, but… hmmm. To get you out of that mindset… you have to also consider that the person taking pictures of you like this sees you in this state every day and still loves you very much."

Rose petulantly pouts.

"What's wrong?" Waver cocks an eyebrow. "I thought that was the answer you were looking for." "I don't like it." "What. Do you want me to make you get up at 5 AM in the morning to put makeup on before I wake up? Bleary-eyed, rolling over, nudging you, 'Good morning, my love, now get up and go smear foundation all over your face, or else you won't like any of the pictures I take of you later',?" "Why do you have to be so mean to Rose?" Rose complains. Waver laughs. "You're too easy to tease, even for me. Still, I'm not sure what you want. You don't want to be photographed before you're presentable, even though I love you just as you are?" "It's, ugh, I dunno. I don't knowww…" Rose pulls on the sides of his hair, then runs his fingers up through his scalp. "I can't decide what I want. This contradiction is beating my ass up right now." "Why don't you sleep on it?" Waver suggests. "Why don't YOU sleep on it, huh?" Rose bitches again. Waver sighs, laying his back down on the bed, arms spread out, legs dangling over the edge. He looks up at the ceiling, quietly in thought.

"I'm sorry I'm so fickle like this." Rose murmurs, looking apologetic. "It's okay. I don't hate it." Waver tilts his head over to look at Rose, though Rose can't see Waver's mouth over his shoulder and long black hair. "Your fickleness is one of your lovable flaws." "To you, maybe. To everyone else it's frustrating." "It's only frustrating to some people. And, it's only frustrating sometimes. This isn't something we have to decide on tonight. You already know where I stand on this matter." Waver rolls over, stretching, then rolls over again, facing towards Rose, stretching again, then leans on his right elbow and drapes his left arm down past his side, where his shirt has risen just a little, showing off the most dazzling bit of midriff, soft skin, forcing Rose to try to pretend like he wasn't obsessed with it. Which he was. And which Waver knew very, very well, given the way he knew Rose was.

"I still can't get over how beautiful you look," Rose finally admits out loud. Waver smiles wide. "I'm happy to be complimented so frequently by you." "God, do you even know how beautiful you are? Do you even have any inkling of an idea of how beautiful you are, how gorgeous you are?" "I hate to admit this, but I do, given my recurring rank status of a certain underground poll held secretly by the Department of Policies that turned out to be a data collection scheme." "You were fourth right?" "In the future, I rank first." "What happened, did the other guys die or something? Or did your students sabotage the vote perhaps?" "N-No! Or, well, honestly, I don't know. Maybe they did? I didn't look or think too hard about it, so long as my students weren't running an online syndicate." Waver's ears are a little pink. "You're so cute. It's stuff like this I want to see all the time." "Why don't you take a picture?" "You know I'm taking one, though. It defeats the purpose." "I'm asking."

Rose smiles wide and grabs his phone, tilting it sideways, focusing as best as he can on the lounging man in front of him. Waver gives a soft smile, his ears are still slightly pinkish, only noticeable to those who really know him well,

[blossom-hwa]

Sunflowers |Summer| - JUYEON

Can’t believe it’s already Juyeon’s birthday!!! Hope deobiblr enjoys my contribution for the birthday of one of the best dancers in the kpop industry <3

I will be doing a taglist for Sunflowers, so if you’d like to be notified when the next part goes up, send me a dm or an ask! Post dates are also on my posting schedule :)

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, high school!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Juyeon is just a sunflower, following the light of your smile. 

Summer | Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer, Once More

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ in summer, a stranger comes home

. . . . .

It’s the middle of summer when your mom delivers you a little piece of seemingly innocuous news, a piece of glittering information wrapped in old magazines and tied with cheap string to disguise its sparkle. Her voice literally vibrates with excitement when she tells you, which probably should serve as a warning or a signal of some sort, but in your defense, you’re tired from a day of classes and research programs and just want to eat and die.

“Our old neighbors are coming back!” she bursts, a spring in her step that you haven’t seen since the day you were accepted to your current prestigious research camp. “You know, the Lees who used to live next door?”

You blink once, then twice before the information sinks in. A memory settles at the front of your mind. “The Lees?”

“Yes!” She smiles widely. “I missed Yuna so much, I can’t believe she and her family are actually moving back. Don’t you remember, you used to be such good friends with Juyeon?”

More blurry memories of playing in the grass and dancing in the living room with a chubby little boy flash through your mind. You remember playdates that turned into study sessions in middle school, study sessions that disappeared when Juyeon moved away. And though you’d like to forget it, you remember sobbing your eyes out the day he left at the end of summer, the weather turning to fall. Sunflowers were blooming that day, wreathing your lawn in an unfairly bright ring of yellow as you wrapped him in one last hug before his father started the car and the family drove away.

“Mhm,” you only say, taking a box of cookies out of the cupboard. “I remember.”

“Won’t it be so much fun for you two to meet again?” Your mother’s smile turns suggestive as she side-eyes you. “You two were always so adorable together. Didn’t you once say he was your boyfriend in kindergarten?”

That memory makes you cringe. “Thanks, Mom, I was doing a really good job of forgetting that before you mentioned it.”

“Oh, hush.” She shoos you out of the kitchen. “You two were so cute together. I have no doubt you’ll be the best of friends again when they come back.”

“I haven’t seen him in four years, Mom,” you remind her. “People change.”

A glint comes into your mom’s eye. “Maybe so,” she replies cryptically, “but some feelings remain.”

Okay, so in hindsight, you should’ve taken a lot of what she said as a warning that your life was about to get flipped upside down by Juyeon’s homecoming. But with everything already on your mind, you more or less forget about the news until one day towards the end of summer, when your dad tells you to come straight home after your classes.

You stare up at him over your bowl of cereal. “Why?” you ask, mouth full.

“You don’t remember?” Your mom sits down just across from you. “The Lees are moving back in today, and we’ve invited them to dinner!”

Your brain buffers for a good few minutes before you finally recall your dad saying something about “dinner with the Lees when they come back” a couple weeks ago. “I didn’t know they already came back.”

“Well, they are.” Your mom’s fingers tap on the table with excitement. “You have your research, but we’ll be helping them move back in today, and then they’re coming over for dinner. We’ll probably already be home before you get back, so try not to look too messy, okay?”

Wincing, you remember the several still-recovering formic acid burns on your forearms from several days ago. You can’t hide those. “I’ll do my best,” is all you promise.

So that afternoon, instead of staying behind and chatting with a few friends, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk to the front of your house much earlier than usual. There are new cars in the driveway next door.

With the sunflowers beginning to bloom on your and your neighbors’ lawns, it feels eerily similar to the day Juyeon and his family left.

A slight wave of nervousness roils in your stomach. Quickly, as you walk up the pathway to your house, you try to untangle your hair with your fingers, straightening out your shirt as best as you can. As tired as you are, you don’t want to make a bad impression on your parents’ good friends. You don’t exactly want to look horrible in front of Juyeon, either. Even though he probably doesn’t have any idea what you look like anymore.

With a deep breath, you grip the doorknob and twist. It’s locked.

Frowning, you look down at the unmoving handle. Your parents must’ve locked it by force of habit when they came back.

So you knock.

Literally nothing could have prepared you for the boy who opens the door several seconds later to your pounding. He’s tall, muscled, with fine features and a curious look in his eyes, and he looks vaguely familiar.

For several seconds, the two of you just stare at each other, neither saying a word. As you’re trying to figure out why a really hot guy is at your house right now, a much more familiar woman appears in your line of vision, smiling widely as she holds out her arms to you. “Oh, my!” she cries, pushing past the boy to wrap you up in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lee,” you reply, still trying to figure out who the tall boy is. It isn’t until she starts pulling away that you realize he has her nose and her eyes.

Huh?

Then –

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You nearly stumble back into the door from shock. “JUYEON?”

. . .

Juyeon thought his feelings for you had disappeared, he really did. When he moved away and thought he was never coming back, he took the love he’d held for you for so long, put it into a box at the back of his heart, locked it, and threw the key away. And as the years slowly passed, one after another, the box slowly disappeared from the forefront of Juyeon’s mind. He never forgot about it, but memories of you eventually stopped plaguing his mind day and night.

But that box never disappeared, not really. He thought it did, thought it dissolved into nothing over the years. Instead, it stayed, small but there, waiting for the right moment to burst and flood his body with the feelings he’d so carefully packed away so long ago.

That right moment is apparently when he opens the door to see a face he really never thought he’d ever see again.

Juyeon doesn’t recognize you, not at first. At second glance, he can pick out some distinct features that stayed the same (namely the sparkle in your eyes that hasn’t changed, even after all this time away). But during those first moments when he opens the door, he just stands there, trying to figure out who this person in front of him is.

Then it hits him, and the box of feelings explodes just as his mom starts pushing him away to wrap you in a hug.

You clearly don’t recognize him, judging by the curious looks you keep giving him over his mom’s shoulder. That makes Juyeon self-conscious – he hasn’t changed that much from when he left, has he? – and the embarrassment only compounds when you stumble back into the door, eyes widening as you yell his name in shock.

So, suffice to say, the conversation between you two at dinner is almost nonexistent. You look like you want the ground to eat you alive in your seat across from Juyeon, eyes barely looking up throughout the whole meal, talking only when someone asks you a direct question. Meanwhile, Juyeon’s stuck in his head.

Why, he despairs, didn’t these feelings actually disappear? Why does he still want to look into your eyes, get lost in your gaze like he used to so many years ago? Thoughts spin in circles in his head, thoughts of how you’ve changed and how you’ve stayed the same and how, oh God, his heart still races like no tomorrow when you meet his eyes for the briefest second before looking away out of embarrassment.

Juyeon needs a moment. He needs a moment to breathe, to think, to reason himself through this whole situation, which is why he volunteers to wash the dishes after dinner. Your mom starts praising him for being a perfect son and he dutifully lowers his head in embarrassed acknowledgment, thanking the heavens that he’ll have a moment to actually think, before she then looks at you to ask, “Why don’t you help Juyeon too?” and the world starts crumbling around his feet.

In perfect tandem, the two of you start picking up empty plates and bowls and carrying them to the kitchen sink. The adults make their way to the living room, laughing and chattering loudly, which only makes the potent silence between you two more prominent.

“I can wash,” you offer awkwardly, still barely able to look Juyeon in the eye (which is perfectly fine, because he thinks he might combust if you do just that). “You can dry? If you’re all right with that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Juyeon tries to flash a smile, hoping it isn’t too shaky (the thumping in his heart makes it feel like the world is trembling around his feet). As the water runs and you start passing plates over to him, he does his best to ignore how close you are, how easy it would be to accidentally brush your arm with his.

Silence reigns until half the dishes are dry, and then you open your mouth. “Sorry about earlier,” you blurt, embarrassment and shame visible on your face. “I, uh, didn’t recognize you at first. Freaked out for a second.”

It’s surprisingly easy to laugh at that, to laugh at a statement that’s so blatantly you. You still haven’t changed, Juyeon thinks – you’re still the same bluntly apologetic friend he was in love with four years ago. It cheers him when your lips begin to turn up at his burst of laughter, face still embarrassed but beginning to warm with some happiness. “It’s okay,” he says, drying the next plate. “I didn’t recognize you either, not at first.”

“Well, I guess we can say that we’ve both changed,” you acknowledge, finally looking up fully.

Your smile could bring legions to their knees, Juyeon thinks. It certainly stops his hands from drying the next dish – in fact, he almost drops it. Even though the curve of your lips is small and he can’t see all of your teeth, the sparkle in your eye more than makes up for it. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah.”

The two of you scrub dishes for the next few minutes in quiet again. Juyeon has no idea what you’re thinking, but he’s just trying to calm the beating in his heart.

This is not how he expected to feel when he moved back. Not at all. What he’s feeling isn’t even just everything he locked away at the end of seventh grade – somehow, the emotions have multiplied, compounded over years of neglect, and now he’s getting the full force of it.

“My mom wants us to be friends again,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “What do you think about that?”

Um, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Juyeon thinks. Do you want to be his friend again? Or are you only trying to be nice to him for the sake of your parents?

“Well.” Juyeon bites his lip. “If you want to be friends again, I’d like that. But if it’s, um, just because of your mom, we don’t have to.”

At that, you smack a rubber-gloved, soapy hand against your head, shrieking slightly when you realize there are suds in your hair. Juyeon laughs, really laughs as he hands you a towel from a nearby rack. “God, I’m a fucking mess,” you groan, wiping the bubbles from your forehead. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t want to be your friend again just because of our parents, that was just the only way I could think of to bring up the topic and yeah, I should’ve thought this out, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Didn’t you get into one of the most prestigious research camps in the country?” Juyeon counters, hands moving automatically to take the towel from you and wiping off the suds himself. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes, I am.” You sigh. “I think it’d be nice to be friends again. If that’s fine with you.”

With your words fluttering in his heart, it takes Juyeon a good moment to realize he’s been standing with the towel pressed against your head for a full few seconds. Heat rising to his ears (he hopes you don’t see that), he quickly wipes off the last of the bubbles and returns the towel to the rack. “That’d be nice,” he echoes softly. “I’d like that.”

The smile you give him, tentative but much wider than before, makes Juyeon feel like he’s flying. He’s so far gone, he thinks, drying the last dish. He’s only seen you again for a few hours, and already your smile has him feeling some kind of way.

He’d follow that smile, he thinks. He’d follow that smile anywhere, just like one of the sunflowers on your lawn outside chasing the sun from dawn to dusk. That’s all he is, after all. A sunflower, following the light of your smile.

And as you look up, eyes scrunched as he says something to make you laugh, Juyeon doesn’t think he minds.

Not in the slightest.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (epilogue)

tw: insecurities, implicit sex, nostalgia, bittersweet memories

Word count: 5.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev 

epilogue

“Now, please clear the floor for the First Dance.”

[When the visions around you, bring tears to your eyes]

“Shall we?” He grins, bowing slightly as he extends a hand to (Name). 

She giggles, placing her hand in his. “We shall.” 

[And all that surrounds you are secret and lies]

The lights dimmed as they made their way to the center of the dance-floor. 

“We finally got our official dance, huh?” He joked, pulling gently on a loose curl. 

[I’ll be your strength. I’ll give you hope. Keeping your faith when it’s gone. The one you should call, Was standing there all along]

Kuroo opened the door to the house, having been invited over by the pregnant woman and bearing a gift of her favorite pastry. It was week fifteen of her pregnancy. “(Name)?” He called, stepping into the living room after following the sound of sniffles. 

“K-Kuroo! You’re already here!” She frantically wiped at her face in an attempt to hide her blotchy face.

“What’s the matter?” He put the box onto the table, throwing his keys down as he sits besides her. “Why are you crying?” Kuroo gently grasps her hands, pulling it away to reveal the residual tears on her face.

“It’s silly,” she sniffled.

“You say that every time, and I tell you every time, if it bothers you, then it bothers me. So tell me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “It’s just Bokuto.”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s gone for good, Kuroo. I don’t think he’s gonna come back for me.”

Kuroo frowned, glancing down at the phone that she had clutched in one hand. The screen showed a picture of Bokuto and (Name) from high-school. “He’s an idiot if he leaves you behind,” Kuroo says softly, both hands cupping her face to wipe the tears away. “I promise you, I’ll always be here, ok? No matter what happens.

(Name) nods, giving him a watery smile. “You’re the best, Kuroo. When will you find someone to settle down with?” She giggled, hiccuping slightly.

Kuroo’s face softens as he brings her close, holding her against his chest. “Hopefully soon, sweetheart. But for now, you’re stuck with me, okay?”

She snuggled in closer, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing deepened. Kuroo lets out a breathy chuckle.

‘She’s already here, in my arms. If only she saw me the way I saw her though.’

[And I will take you in my arms. And hold you right where you belong. ‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you]

They spun slowly to the sound of a soft love ballad. It had been a long day. (Name) had just returned to work, bringing Hikori with her to the office. Kuroo himself had just returned from a business trip that (Name) had forced himself on. After putting their son to bed, they found themselves in each other’s embrace with a sigh of relief. 

“Y’know, I think we were supposed to save this for the wedding.” (Name) teased, looking up into hazel eyes.

Kuroo chuckled, holding her close to him. “Well, we did have a wedding.” His nose brushed against her in a tantalisingly close kiss. 

“Mmhm, you’re right,” (Name) agreed, “though we didn’t get a chance to dance during it.”

“How could we?” Kuroo teased. “With your swollen pregnant feet and our families and friends ambushing us left and right. Hardly seems like we had a chance, my dear.”

(Name) rested her head on his shoulder, humming slightly. “I love you, Tetsu.”

“I love you too, (Name). I love you so much.”

[I’ve loved you forever. In lifetimes before.]

“It only took us four years or so,” (Name) replied, (e/c) orbs gazing into hazel. 

“Eh, but those were some of the best years of my life.” Kuroo shrugged.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I finally had you in my arms.” 

Her cheeks got hot, “you’re such a dork,” she mumbled, burying it into his shoulder. His chest shook with the rumble of his laughter. 

[And I promise you never, Will you hurt anymore]

“You want me to do what?”

“Can you help me ask (Name) out?” 

Kuroo examined Bokuto’s face carefully, forcing a smile onto his expression. “You want to ask my best friend out?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto nodded aggressively. “You know her the best, do you think you could help?”

Kuroo swallowed the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t mentioned his own feelings to (Name) yet, and here he was, already on the verge of losing her. “What was your plan?” 

[I give you my word. I give you my heart.] 

After listening to Bokuto’s plan, Kuroo reluctantly agreed. After all, he wanted to see her happy and if she thought she could find that with Bokuto, then Kuroo would support her every step of the way. Or, that’s what he kept telling himself as he watched Bokuto sweep her away to the dance-floor. 

Their eyes met over Bokuto’s shoulder as (Name) faced him. Kuroo grinned at her, sending her a wink. ‘Well?’ Kuroo asked silently, his eyebrows raising slightly. ‘Do you want him?’ Bokuto pulled away, capturing her attention once more. Kuroo’s silent question was answered when (Name) leaned forward, brushing her lips against Bokuto’s cheek. 

Once again, hazel eyes met (e/c). Kuroo forced himself to smile, giving her a thumbs-up. His heart shattered. Of course she would say yes. There was not an evil bone in her body. She’s never said that she wasn’t interested in Bokuto. Kuroo’s eyes flickered between her and her new boyfriend, making a ‘shoo-ing’ gesture. No matter what happens, he’ll still be here for her. 

[This is a battle we’ve won. And with this vow, Forever has now begun]

“Tetsu...I definitely do not still love Bokuto.” 

“Are you sure?” (Name)’s heart stuttered at the veiled pain in his voice. “How do you know?” 

Tears began welling up in her eyes. “How could you ask me that?” She whispered. Kuroo shrugged, an arm covering his own eyes. “Tetsu, look at me.” He shook his head, squeezing his own eyes shut as he swallowed thickly. “Tetsu, please.”

Kuroo swallowed once more, lifting his arm off of his eyes to look at (Name) through blurry eyes. “Yes?” 

“Don’t be like that.” Her lip jutted out into a soft frown. She rolls over, hovering over him. “Tetsurou Kuroo.” Kuroo flinched as she pronounced his full name. “Yes, I dated Bokuto before we started dating. Yes, Hikori is his son. But do you know what?”

“What?” 

Tears escaped down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “I have always been in love with you. You - you stupid, rooster-headed, ex-volleyball captain, chemist nerd, you. You were always my go-to, my day one.” One of her hands cupped her face. “You’re the reason why I know what love feels like,” she mumbles under her breath, eyes searching his. “And I wouldn’t throw that away for anything. I am sorry it took me so long to realize this.” 

[Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away]

“I don’t know how you do it.”

She hummed, “do what love?”

They slowly spin under the lights that shone brightly only for them. 

“Look more and more beautiful every day.” He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a dainty kiss onto her knuckles. 

She chuckles. “The only reason I look beautiful is because I have you to love and care for me, Tetsu.” 

[‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. This I promise you]

The sound of soft snores filled the room as Kuroo sat in his chair, rocking back and forth. He glanced over at his wife, who was sprawled out on the bed. Kuroo stifled a chuckle. She’d been exhausted the past few days, waking up at all hours in order to take care of their son. Kuroo had decided to use part of his paternity leave in order to come home and support (Name) better. He hummed a soft lullaby as he looked back at the bundle in his arms. Hikori was sound asleep, soft breaths causing his small chest to rise and fall. “You truly bring us an abundance of joy,” Kuroo whispered, placing a dainty kiss onto Hikori’s forehead. His other hand reached out, settling onto (Name)’s extended hand. She made a soft noise, her fingers gently grabbing onto Kuroo’s longer ones. His eyes settled softly on his wife. “I’ll always take care of you.” His grip tightened on Hikori. “Both of you.”

[Over and over I thought. When I hear you call] 

Warmth spread through his body as he looked down at his angelic wife. “Y’know, I still can’t believe this has happened,” Kuroo admitted. “These past four or so years have honestly felt like a dream.

“Is that so?” (Name) hummed. “So you used to dream about us ending up together, roosterhead?”

“Oh only every day,” Kuroo replied, nodding solemnly. They both chuckled. 

“I’m glad it was you.” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad that it was you who found my heart, Tetsu.” (Name) explained, glassy eyes peering into his hazel eyes. His heart lurched as he swallowed his own tears. “And that you were patient enough to wait for me.” 

[WIthout you in my life, baby. I just wouldn’t be living at all]

“Is that it?” Kenma asked, fixing Kuroo with a hard stare. “After all these years, you’re not even going to try?” 

Kuroo looked up at his best friend with an exasperated look. “What do you mean, Kenma? What else could I do?” 

“You could confess!” Kuroo flinched, opening his mouth to respond only to get cut off again. “You’ve been in love with (Name) for so many years now, and you’re just going to let that owl-head steal her away from you?”

“Yes I will! If that’s what she wants and what will make her happier, then I will.”

“How do you know what she wants? You never even gave her a chance to know her options.” 

Kuroo shook his head. “I don’t want to put her in a weird spot or make her uncomfortable.”

“So you’d rather lose her?” 

“I’d rather be in her life as her best friend than to put our friendship at risk.”

“Do you really think (Name) would throw you out if she rejects you?” Kenma’s expression softened slightly. “We both know that would never happen.”

Kuroo gave Kenma a pained expression, words strangling him as he forced them out. “I love her. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her Kenma. But her happiness will always come first for me.” 

[And I will take you in my arms, and hold you right where you belong.]

“I love you (Name). Have for a really, really long time,” Kuroo chuckled. “I’m just glad that you could find it in your heart to love me back.” His grip tightened on her hip, pulling her closer.

They spun slowly. The golden light sparkled off of the jewelry she wore. “It was always there,” she admitted finally, squeezing his arm. “I always knew that I loved you. I just never anticipated it to be like this.”

[Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away.]

“Happy one year anniversary baby.” Kuroo whispered against her lips as he cupped her cheeks.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” (Name) smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of the cool metal ring on Kuroo’s hand. She raised her hands, slotting her fingers with his.  

“Thank god Hiki’s with Aya,” he grinned. 

“And why’s that?” (Name) teased, pulling back. “Tired of having to share me?”

Kuroo scooped her up in her arms, causing her to squeal. “Absolutely,” he replied. “I’ve been waiting to have you to myself all these years. Excuse me for not wanting to share you with our son.” He tosses her onto the bed, climbing on top of her with a cheeky smirk, peppering kisses all over her face. “God I love you so much.” 

“You’re such a cheeseball, roosterhead,” (Name) chided as her eyes sparkled with amusement. She rolled him over, pinning his hands above his head as she started to decorate him with her own kisses. 

“Yes, but I’m your cheeseball~!”

“Apparently so.”

“For now and always,” Kuroo teased, hazel eyes sparkling with affection.

“Maybe just for now,” she winked. He flipped them once more, eyes glinting with mischief now.

“I guess I’ll just have to re-convince you on the ‘forever’ part,” he purred. She squealed as he pounced.  

[Every word I say is true, This I promise you]

“I already said it during our vows all those years ago,” Kuroo began, pulling back to look (Name) directly in the eyes. “I promise that no matter what happens, I will remain by your side. I will take care of you, to catch you when you stumble, and share each and every day with you.” He kissed her knuckles before holding that hand close to his chest. “I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“As long as that’s for now and forever, that works out for me.” (Name)’s eyes fluttered shut, pressing her forehead against Kuroo’s.

“You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, love,” Kuroo whispered to her. 

****

As the final few notes of the song plays, Kuroo gently pulls back, tilting her chin up and capturing her lips with his. They come apart, Kuroo whispering something against her lips before they kiss again. Cheers and coos fill the air. The bridesmaids had tears streaming down their faces as they watched their best friend find her happy ending. The groomsmen had red faces, some even had redness around their eyes as they hid their own tears. The mothers of the happy couple were dabbing their cheeks with handkerchiefs, blowing their noses noisily. The fathers drank flutes of champagne as they toasted to the couples’ happiness.

Kuroo and (Name) stepped apart, her cheeks flushed red. They went back to the head table, rejoining their bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was approaching the table. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes. “May I have this dance?” 

She looked up to him, offering him a soft smile as she placed her hand in his. “Of course.” They both glanced at Kuroo, who gave a gentle smile to her and nodded in Bokuto’s direction. With Kuroo’s permission, Bokuto escorts her to the dance-floor, making his way to the center of the floor. By now, other couples were also dancing with their partners. In the corner of his eye, Bokuto spots Hikori dancing with Aiko. 

[You’re in my arms and all the world is calm]

As they stepped under the lights, the world faded. Her arms snaked around his neck, fingers linking as his hands found purchase on her hips.

[The music playing on for only two. So close together, and when I’m with you, so close to feeling alive]

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Golden pools bathed her in an ethereal light. Her cheeks glowed as her eyes sparkled. She looked like an angel stepping out in her white dress. (Name) was absolutely radiating. 

“Thank you Kou,” she smiled. His heart ached at the familiar sight. Just for this moment, he knew that her smile was just for him. Just like before. His grip tightened on her, pulling her closer.

[A life goes by, Romantic dreams must die. So I bid my goodbye, and never knew.]

“Hello?”

“Hey baby! I missed you!” 

(Name) giggled over the phone. “I’ve missed you too, Kou. How’s training?”

Bokuto collapsed onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. “Pretty rough,” he sighed, rolling his shoulder. His muscles ached from the rigorous training. “The guys are all so good, it’s been really hard to keep up.”

He could hear the shuffling of sheets on her end. “You’ve got this, Kou. I believe in you.” Bokuto’s eyes fluttered shut. “They wouldn’t have invited you if they didn’t think you would do well.”

Bokuto hummed. “How are things with you?”

“Good, I’m almost finished with my classes.” He could just hear the smile in her voice now. His heart skipped a beat. “Soon, I’ll officially be a recreational therapist,” she declared happily. 

Bokuto forced a smile on his face. “I’m so happy for you baby.” He was happy. He was happy for her. But he hated how he was doing. How difficult it was for him to do well during his conditioning. How could he make (Name) proud if he couldn’t even succeed at this opportunity she gave him? “I’m actually really tired, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Oh, now?” The disappointed tone in her voice almost convinced him to stay on call longer, but he shook his head.

“Yeah, gotta be up early tomorrow for more conditioning.”

“Right, you must be exhausted. Get some rest, Kou. Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bokuto stared at his phone a moment longer as the call ended before he threw it onto his nightstand. Tomorrow, he’d be better. Tomorrow, he’d make her proud. He wouldn’t call her until he could prove to himself and to her that leaving her over three hundred miles away was worth it. His pride wouldn’t allow him otherwise. 

Unfortunately, that would be the last time he heard her voice on the phone.

[So close, was waiting. Waiting here with you, and now, forever, I know.]

They slowly spun in a circle. She blinked up at him with soft doe eyes through eyelashes lengthened with mascara and falsies. “Thank you for coming. I know it must have been difficult.”

Bokuto shrugged, squeezing her tighter. “I promised you forever, didn’t I?” His throat tightened.

She let out a breathy laugh. “You did.” (Name) leaned forward, putting her head on his shoulder as she let Bokuto rock their bodies side to side. 

[All that I wanted, to hold you so close]

“(Nickname)!” The ringing of his voice was the only warning that she got before a muscular body slammed into her. She let out a wheeze as her soul left her body.

“Kou!” She choked, slapping his back. Bokuto’s booming laugh filled the gym as he spun her round and round until they both felt dizzy. He placed her feet gently back onto the ground, arms still wound tightly around her. “Ooh, don’t do that, I feel sick,” she groaned, swaying in his arms. (Name) squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing as she attempted to recalibrate. Getting injured on their first day of training camp, year two, would not be fun. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you!” Of course, Bokuto immediately collapsed onto the floor due to his own dizziness, pinning her underneath him.

“Someone’s excited to see me,” she teased, patting his shoulder affectionately. “Now get off me, ya lug. You’re squishing me!” 

Bokuto rolled over, letting her lay on his chest as he nuzzled her hair. “Is this better?”

Heat surged up to her cheeks as she quickly averted her eyes. “S-sure.” 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Kou.”

[So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.]

“One of these days, I’m going to marry you, y’know?" 

“Is that so?” 

One of his hands brushed through her hair as the other played with her fingers as they laid in their shared bed. It was a few days after they’d moved in together. “Of course, you’re the love of my life, (Nickname). I can’t imagine a future without you in it.” 

She giggled, slotting her fingers in his and giving them a squeeze. “I love you, Kou.”

“I love you too. You’re it for me. You’re the endgame for me.” (Name) tilted her face up. Bokuto leaned down, capturing her lips with us. Their lips slotted together so perfectly. As he pulled back, he couldn’t stop the grin that overtook his features. “Yep, definitely my endgame.” 

[And now you’re beside me, and look how far we’ve come.]

“And then, Kuroo ended up tripping and spilling his tea all over me.” (Name) giggled, brushing her hair back with her free hand. She was swinging their intertwined hands as they walked home from their date. It was the summer before their first year of college.  

Bokuto planted his feet, chewing on his lip as he steeled his nerves. “(Name)?” At the sound of his voice, she paused, turning to look at her boyfriend.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” 

Her eyes widened. “You what?” 

“I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you our first year of high-school.” Shock faded from her features only to be overcome with joy. “Oh no, why are you crying?” Bokuto panicked, reaching for her face.

His hand caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I love you too, dummy.” 

[So far we are, so close]

They spun slightly, swaying to the music. Bokuto pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet perfume. 

His eyes fluttered shut, pretending that this was all just for them. 

That the golden band on her finger had been given by him. 

That the spotlight shone brightly for what was once their love. 

Where his son was raised by him instead of a stranger. 

When she was his, and he was hers. 

[Oh how could I face the faceless days, if I should lose you now]

A hand tapped on his shoulder, bringing him out of his stupor. “Mind if I cut in?” 

Bokuto offered Kuroo a resigned, sorrowful smile, nodding as he stepped back. “Of course.” Bokuto gave (Name) one last smile. “Thank you.” 

Both husband and wife gave him a smile. 

His heart clenched.

[We’re so close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.] 

“Thank you, Kou.” Kuroo squeezed his shoulder, before taking his place. Kuroo’s arms snaked around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to him. She giggled, placing her head on his shoulder as Kuroo spun his wife away from Bokuto.

[Let’s go on dreaming for we know we are so close] 

Feet pounded towards him as a small shape pounced on Bokuto. “Kou-san!” Bokuto turned, opening up his arms as Hikori jumped into his arms. “You and Mama looked so nice together!”

[So close, and still so far]

Bokuto glanced back at the married couple, Say You Won’t Let Go playing as they stayed for another dance. Away from their well-wishers off in a world of their own. A wistful look filled his expression.

“Whoa, careful babe!” Bokuto chuckled, a hand on (Name)’s waist. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“I wanna dance s’more!” She slurred, the smell of beer fanning across his face.

“You can barely stand,” Kuroo piped up beside her with Bokuto nodded firmly, their own cheeks tinted red from the alcohol.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home and we can dance there, ok?” He promised, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. Bokuto looks up at Kuroo. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

(Name) stumbled up, making grabby hands at Kuroo. “Bye Tetsu~! I’ll miss youuuu,” she said. Kuroo patted her cheek, a soft expression on his face.

“Take care of her, Bo.” Kuroo clapped Bokuto on the back before turning around and walking down the street towards his own apartment.

As they got into the taxi on their way home, (Name) was crawling all over Bokuto’s body. “Baby, don’t do that,” he chided, amused. 

“I wanna cuddle,” she pouted. 

He scooped her into his lap, nuzzling into her neck. “I love you so much baby.” 

“I love you too, Kou,” she mumbled, burying her face into his. “S’much. Wanna be with you forever.”

“Always, baby.” 

Bokuto shook his head slightly, chuckling as he patted Hikori’s head affectionately. “You and Aiko did too, ‘Kori.” 

“Do you think?” Hikori blinked up with matching golden pools. 

“Definitely!” Bokuto smiled. “You should go give her something. Maybe go get her a cupcake?”

“That’s a great idea! Thank you, Kou-san.” With that, Hikori leapt out of Bokuto’s arms and went sprinting towards the dessert aisle. 

Bokuto sighed, making his way back to his table. Akaashi sat there, sipping from a glass of wine beside Kenma who was avoiding the rowdiness of the Head Table. Kenma glanced up at Bokuto as he collapsed into his seat. “I think I’ll go get some dessert.” Kenma stood, nodding at Bokuto before making his way to the dessert table, intercepting Hikori who had a plate towered high with all types of sweets. 

Kenma took the plate from the boy, pointing at his parents and whispering something to Hikori. Hikori nodded seriously, before running to Kuroo and (Name). Kuroo laughed, scooping Hikori up. Kuroo placed Hikori onto her shoulders. (Name) held onto Hikori’s thigh, the other holding Kuroo’s as they spun together, laughing joyfully. 

“How are you feeling, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto shrugged, pouring himself a new glass of wine and downing it. “I’m...happy for them.”

“But?”

He let out a soft chuckle, middle finger tracing the mouth of his glass. “But I really wish I hadn’t let her go.” 

Akaashi squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto shrugged off Akaashi’s hand. “S’okay. It’s my own fault anyways.” They turned, watching as Kuroo dipped her slightly. She squealed as she fell into a fit of giggles, before Kuroo pulled her back up and pressed his lips to hers. Hikori was back in his father’s arms, making a face at his parents’ display of affection. 

Bokuto turned back to his glass, filling it once more.

The microphone sounded out as the last song faded out. “May I have everyone’s attention?” Kuroo stood in the very front of the hall, (Name) standing beside him, Hikori in her arms. 

“First of all, thank you to everyone for coming. It means a lot to (Name) and me that you were here for our wedding day, especially after four years of waiting for our special little man to join us.” The crowd laughed. Kuroo turned to face his wife, squeezing her hip. “Since you’re already all gathered here today, we do have a special announcement.” Kuroo looked down at his wife, hazel eyes sparkling with love and deep affection before he grinned at his son, pinching Hikori’s cheek. “Hikori, guess what?”

“What, Dad?”

“You’re going to be a big brother.” 

The crowd erupted into noise. Some of the males hooted and hollered at Kuroo. Ladies gasped and shrieked in delight. (Name)’s mother burst into more tears. But to be fair, she hadn’t really stopped. She’d been crying since the vow renewal. And then was overwhelmed with another fit of tears during their first dance. 

But for Bokuto? 

The world froze. The noise faded into black as he stared blankly at the couple. He watched with unfocused eyes as she was surrounded by her bridesmaids. Her maid of honor, Aya, was tugging on (Name)’s arm and mutedly shouting over the empty noise. Kuroo’s groomsmen surrounded him, Yaku slapping a hand onto his back. Bokuto snapped out of his reverie as a small body collided with his. 

“Kou-san!” Bokuto’s head jerked down, staring as Hikori tugged on his arm. “Did ya hear that?” Bokuto forced his face into a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Akaashi sent him a sympathetic look, excusing himself.

“Yeah! You’re gonna be a big bro, little man.” 

“Papa said I’m going to have a sister!” Hikori’s eyes sparkled with joy, beaming. Absentmindedly, Bokuto wondered if that’s what he looked like when he was happy. Hikori hesitated for a moment. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

His question snapped Bokuto out of his self-pity spiral. “Aw, ‘Kori, she’s gonna love ya!” Bokuto nuzzled his nose into Hikori’s cheeks, blowing air onto them.

Hikori squealed, squirming in his arms. “Stop it, Kou-san!” 

Bokuto pulled back, beaming. “C’mon, let’s go get some more ice cream, okay?” 

“Yes!” Hikori bounced up, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Bokuto finished another glass of wine, noticing Akaashi’s wince in the corner of his eyes before Bokuto went with Hikori to the dessert table.  

Bokuto scanned the banquet hall. It was beautiful, to say the least. Kuroo and (Name) were well-established in their careers, and were able to go all-out on this dream-like wedding. Fairy lights hung in tulle curtains on all of the walls, and mini-chandeliers hung over each table. Blush pink, gold, and white flowers made the centerpieces with more fairy lights in the vases. Those were surrounded by candles floating in water-filled shot-glasses. Small plastic boxes with succulents propped on top sat at each seat, a tag with the seat’s name sticking out of it and macarons enclosed in the box. 

Just like her first wedding, the room felt almost like a volleyball reunion. At one table, Iwaizumi was with Oikawa and the former Karasuno members. Bokuto and Hikori walked by as Iwaizumi was smacking the Argentinian player on the head for some ridiculous comment or another. 

Nekoma’s alumni had their own table. Lev was sitting there arguing with Shibayama and Inuoka. Bokuto and Akaashi had been seated together, joined by Bokuto’s teammates from the MSBY Black Jackals. Konoha had been invited as a groomsmen since his wife was the Maid of Honor. At the moment, Bokuto’s team-mates were scattered throughout the hall. Some were mingling with other members of the Japan national team. He could vaguely spot Atsumu flirting with one of the bridesmaids at their table. 

“Alright little man, what type of ice cream do you want?” They stopped in front of the ice cream stand that was near the dessert table. Bokuto scooped Hikori up into his arms so that he could peer down into the ice-box. 

“Can I get chocolate and strawberry?” 

“Of course!” Bokuto relayed the ice cream order to the lady working the stand, who smiled at Bokuto and Hikori.

“Your son is very cute,” she complimented, rolling her sleeves up to scoop up the chocolate.

Bokuto gave her a forced smile, the bitter taste of envy surging forward. “He’s not mine. He’s the bride’s.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She bowed, handing Bokuto the cup of ice cream, who handed it to Hikori. “Feel free to grab as many toppings as you’d like, ok?” She smiled, gesturing to the table beside her stand.

“Thank you!” Hikori bowed to her, before scrambling over to the tables. 

Bokuto grinned at his son, before thanking the nice ice cream lady and following him. “Oh, Kou!” He turned, his smile freezing on his face.

“He-hey, (Name)!” 

She smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you so much for watching Hiki.” Bokuto’s eyes closed as he enjoyed her warmth, letting it seep through his body and settle into the gaping black hole of his heart. “I can’t imagine how much it means to you, and I’m so thankful that you’re in his life,” she whispered into his ear before pulling away. As soon as she did, he couldn’t help but lean in towards her, chasing the remnants of the sun like a child chasing after the sunset. 

“I’m just glad that I could be a part of his life.” Bokuto forced his lips up higher. They stood side by side, watching together as their son came back with a tower of toppings on his ice cream. “Whoa, be careful or you’ll make a mess ‘Kori.”

“I will, Kou-san!”

“Let’s sit down so you don’t spill everywhere,” (Name) suggested, gesturing to the nearest empty table. Bokuto pulled out her chair for her, waiting for her to sit down before taking his seat. Hikori sat in between them. 

“Shouldn’t you be greeting people and accepting congratulations?”  

She snorted, kicking her heels off with a sigh of relief. “Kuroo can do that. My feet are aching.” (Name) sent him a bemused smile. “Guess that’s just what happens when you’re wearing heels all day while pregnant.”

Bokuto choked on air, before he focused his attention on Hikori who was eagerly scooping ice cream into his mouth. Bokuto grabbed one of the napkins, wiping the ice cream marks off of Hikori’s cheeks. “Congratulations, by the way.”  

“Thanks, Kou.” 

Bokuto scanned the room, anxious for some words to fill the silence. “You look beautiful,” he blurted. 

(Name) giggled, fiddling with her earring. “You said that already, Kou.”

“Mama does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” Hikori piped up, gazing with childlike awe between his mother and father. “Like an angel!”

“You’re right, ‘Kori. Your mother does look like an angel.” Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. 

(Name) sighed as she caught Kuroo gesturing for her to join him. He was currently being swarmed by her family members. “Alright you flirts, don’t make a mess okay? I need to go save my husband.” With a final wave, (Name) picked up her heels with her fingertips and sauntered over to Kuroo.

****

As (Name) and Kuroo said goodbye to their guests, they handed out small burlap bags to all the adults. Bokuto chuckled at them. “Hangover Kit” was emblazoned on the bags, joined with the Red Cross logo. Fitting for someone in the medical industry. Hikori and Aiko were handing out small bags of candies and toys to all the kids who were exiting, carefully supervised by Konoha. Aya was supervising the clean-up of the hall.    

“Be good for Kou-san when we’re gone, okay, Hiki?”

“Yes, Mama!” Hikori kicked at the ground, pouting slightly. “Can’t I come?”

“Next time, Hiki, ok?” Kuroo squatted down, extending a hand to Hikori. “I promise you, we’ll take you on a special trip just us three before your sister comes, ok?” 

Hikori linked his pinky with his father, nodding aggressively. “Ok!” Kuroo opened his arms, letting Hikori jump into them. “I love you, Papa!” 

“Love you too, Hiki.” Kuroo rubbed Hikori’s back before placing him down and letting (Name) hug her son.

“I love you, Hiki. I promise, we’ll be home in a few days okay?” She bent down, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bye Mama! I love you too.” 

Hikori was released from his parents, backing up until he ran into Bokuto’s legs. Bokuto scooped him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of him.”

“Thanks Kou.” (Name) kissed his cheek, hugging both of them. Bokuto savored the moment. “We’ll see you on Monday!” 

“Let’s go love.” Kuroo opened the backseat door to Kenma’s car, who would be driving them to the airport. “Thanks Bokuto.” Kuroo nodded at the other male, before helping (Name) into the car. With one final wave, the couple were racing down the streets.

“I’ll miss them.”

Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. “Me too.” 

His heart screamed at him. To chase after her one more time. To hold her in his arms. They were so close. Words clawed at his throat, threatening to choke him as he swallowed back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. 

I love you, (Name). I never stopped loving you. I was an idiot for ghosting you. An idiot for leaving you. Please, come back. I wanna raise our son with you. 

I wish we could be parents together for Hikori. 

I wish that I was taking you on our honeymoon. 

I wish that you were pregnant with my daughter. 

I wish we still lived together in that house we bought all those years ago. 

I wish that you were still mine. 

Please.

But Bokuto remained silent, watching as the car drove the love of his life further and further away from him. He looked down at his lockscreen. A photo of his red Japan national jersey stared back at him. It’s said that what you set as your lock-screen would end up being the most important thing to you. 

At the end of the day, that was the choice he made. 

Volleyball. 

Not a future with the love of his life. 

Not a future with kids. 

Not a future with (Name).

*****

AN: And that’s a wrap y’all! How are we feeling? Is this what you expected? What was your favourite part about Lockscreens? 

Please, spam my ask-box with your thoughts/comments/ideas. God I’m so emotional just posting this asdfghjkl

Since the series has officially wrapped up, feel free to ask for more supplements! I do have (2) more Lockscreens supplements to work on from the 600 follower event, but I’ll permanently be opening up supplements for Lockscreens on an “if I like it, I’ll write it” basis. 

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora  @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother @setterfish @toobsessedsstuff @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91  @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed@samkysnks @dolan-mendes16  @loudpoetry23 @estmagnifique @milkteeboba @newfriendjen  @sempiternal-amour @scrappyfka @ mayor-chu-of-many-towns @bokutosdivineass @yeahhemmings- @elianetsantana @strawhatshepard @caramel-chuuya @sol-demure  @song-of-storms162 @rogueofbullshit @cheerysparkle @killlerqween @aomineavenue​ @fatal-impact​ @isleofnajera​ @safa-a07​ @shoyomeow​ @vicassa​ @shrimpypenis​ @craftyfawns​ @london-quynh​ @katelyns-stuff​  @leinnah​ @yoitsseulgi​ @tazzi-baby @babyydragon21 

I couldn’t tag names in bold.

Thank you again for going on this journey with me. 

[batgurl1989]

Running With The Wolf Chapter 3

Summary: You and Geralt get into Novigrad, and go to visit your friends.

Word Count: 2500

Warning: Spoilers for Witcher 3 video game

A/N: It’s a little longer than what I normally write, I hope it doesn’t bore you. If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know :)

Chapter One  Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Taglist: @rmtndew​ @princesssterek​ @djinny-djin-djin​ @cynic-spirit​ @henrynerdfan​

Chapter Three

When you arrived at the Glory Gate the next morning it was still early. The markets hadn’t opened yet, but there was still a line up to get inside the city. Soldiers were slowly letting people through, searching them before they were granted entrance into Novigrad. You crossed your arms, hugging yourself tight. Geralt had suggested you leave the horses outside the city, and had paid someone to look after them, but right now you wished you could distract yourself with Marabelle’s mane or the reins.  

“Calm down. If you keep looking like that, the guards will definitely get suspicious.” Luck was not on your side, and Geralt noticed. He nudged you with his elbow, trying to get you to loosen up before the soldiers looked your way. “The letter will get us in. You will be fine.”

“They have Dimeritium handcuffs sitting right there on the table. They are clearly expecting to find some people who know magic.” You kept your voice low, but you knew the panic you felt could be heard. “I can’t do much once those handcuffs are on me.”

“They won’t be.” Geralt’s voice dripped with promise. Your eyes snapped up to look at him, when you noticed the letter sticking out his crossed arms. He wiggled it enough for you to see the seal on it. The Eternal Fire.

“How did you convince Hierarch Hemmelfart to give you that?” You fought to keep your voice down, enough people were looking your way because of the Witcher you stood beside. You didn’t need to draw more attention.

“Does it matter?” Geralt challenged. Looking down at you, he raised his eyebrow. After mulling it over in your head, you shrugged and let it go.

As you stepped up to the table, the guards gave Geralt a once over, lingering on his white hair and golden eyes. Your heartbeat jack-hammered in your ribs, but on the outside, you looked to remain calm. The two running the table shared a look, their hands going to their swords on their hips. Before they could draw them, however, Geralt handed them the sealed letter without a word. The gold filigree around the seal caught their attention, and they relaxed their sword hands.

“Go on through.” The one soldier said gruffly as his eyes skimmed the letter. Geralt held out his hand to take the letter back, causing the guard to laugh and toss it over the bridge into the river surrounding Novigrad. “I don’t think so. You may have been allowed into Novigrad this time, but I want to make sure there isn’t a next time. Your kind spread diseases, dissension, and desertion.”

You felt a flash of anger rip through you, the heat of it reddening your cheeks. You were about to throw caution to the wind and step forward to defend Geralt and put this guard in his place, but Geralt gently grabbed your wrist, keeping you at his side. Huffing out your rage, you bit your tongue and remained quiet as you and the Witcher crossed the bridge.

“I can’t believe how ignorant these people can be!” You burst out once you were safely out of hearing range. The streets were still fairly empty, just a few beggars out early to catch the people on their way to the market. “’Spread diseases’! UGH!”

“There isn’t much thought put into the insults anymore, and there are none left I haven’t heard.” Geralt shrugged, seeming to not be phased by the insult. He gestured down the street leading to the Chameleon, and you headed in that direction, your anger boiling down to a simmer.

The tavern was open, as always, but it was mostly just drunks from the night before sleeping it off on the tables. Zoltan was behind the bar, humming while wiping down dishes. He didn’t seem to hear you come in, but when Geralt made for the stairs to go look for Dandelion, a dagger flew across the room and embedded itself in the wall in front of Geralt’s face.

“You think to sneak by without so much as a hello?” Zoltan grumbled as he wandered over to you. He frowned at Geralt as he pulled the dagger from the wall. “Dandelion is not going to be happy about the hole.”

“Then you shouldn’t have put it there.” Geralt raised his eyebrow. He wasn’t about to go down for something he didn’t do. Witchers were said to not feel anything, but they didn’t enjoy getting tangled in the lies of others.

“Hi Zoltan.” You stepped up the Dwarf, placing a kiss on his cheek. That seemed to break the ice, and the frown left his face. The hole was a thing of the past, and looking around, you noticed that it wasn’t the only hole in the wall anyway.

“Ah, sweet Younin, it’s always a pleasure to be graced with your presence.” Zoltan smiled warmly at you, his eyes travelling over you. “You look to be in one piece even though you are traveling with this one.”

“She has been more of a troublemaker than me this time.” Geralt grinned, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. That piqued Zoltan’s interest, and the Dwarf turned to you with new interest lighting his face.

“Hardly.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. That didn’t seem to satisfy Zoltan, who raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Both he and Geralt knew what you could be like, and that unlike Triss and Yenn, your powers were more adrenaline based. Chaos drove you a little harder than it did other members of the Lodge. “I may have suggested we take out a group of bandits last night. It was not a big deal. They barely put up a fight.”

Geralt’s eyes gleamed with what was left unsaid. That the fight had depleted your magic stores, and that had you been alone, you wouldn’t have survived. You had to look away from him, otherwise the worry that you had fought off last night would creep in again, and that was the last thing you needed before heading out into the wilds with the Witcher. You spent the short ride to Novigrad testing your magic, and you could barely create a spark at this point.

“Is Dandelion here?” You changed the subject, concentrating on Zoltan.

“I wish I had better news.” Zoltan said the words you and Geralt were dreading to hear. Geralt stood up straight, all relaxation leaving his body. You took a deep breath, torn between fear for your friend and frustration that he kept getting into these situations. “He went and got himself into some trouble with the King of Beggars.”

“How did he manage that?” You were shocked. From your time in the city, you always knew Francis Bedlam to be generally fair in all his dealings. He had offered the mages in Novigrad a place to hide when the witch hunters were on the prowl, and his vast network of spies had come in handy for a fair price.

“The way Dandelion explains it, it was a case of mistaken identity.” Zoltan rolled his eyes. After years of playing songs about the Witcher, those who were close to the bard knew he had a tendency to twist tales to be in his favour. “He was defending Priscilla’s honour, and the bloke he was defending it to wound up dead in the alley behind the tavern where the altercation took place. Now Bedlam has him locked up in the Putrid Grove until the “real” murderer can be found. The way I understand it, the bloke was one of Bedlam’s top spies.”

“Looks like, once again, I show up at the right time. We need to head to the Grove.” Geralt sighed, heading for the door. He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at you. “Unless you want to stay here with Zoltan and be regaled with stories of Gwent matches.”

“I should probably come with you. I’ve had plenty of dealings with Bedlam, and he likes me.” You patted Zoltan’s shoulder, pausing before passing him. “But when I return, I would love to play a few rounds of Gwent with you. I’ve really built up my deck since we last played.”

“Aye, lass, I will hold you to that!” Zoltan seemed in mildly better spirits when you left the Chameleon.

“He likes you?” Geralt questioned as you stepped out onto the street to join him. He had his arms crossed, and when you looked closer, his nostrils were flared. It took you a moment to realize he was talking about Francis Bedlam and not Zoltan.

“Geralt, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you were jealous.” You smirked, taking the lead on the way to the Putrid Grove in the Lacehalls district. It wasn’t far, but it was easy to miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for, and harder to get into if you didn’t know the password. You hoped that they would just recognize your face and let you in, otherwise you would be hunting for a beggar to get the password. Not the easiest of tasks, as most of the time they just took the money and claimed ignorance about the Grove.

“Didn’t you hear? Witchers don’t have feelings.” Geralt joked as he followed you.

He stayed a several paces behind you the whole way to the wooden door leading to the Putrid Grove, but always kept you in sight. It would be better if a Witcher and a Sorceress weren’t seen together trying to find the King of Beggars’ den. You shook your hair out of the tight bun it had been in for travelling, trying to look more like what you did when you lived in Novigrad. Geralt growled low, eyeing you, before he knocked hard with his fist on the door.

The slot opened, and two eyes stared out at both of you. You watched the eyes flick over you and Geralt as recognition set in. The slot slid closed, and the door flew opened.

“Younin! Welcome back!” A mountain of a man scooped you up in a bear hug as soon as you stepped through the door. You patted his shoulder affectionately, a gesture not lost on Geralt who was suddenly on high alert.

“Thank you, Roger. It’s always good to see you.” You said when the man finally lowered you. You reached back to touch Geralt’s arm, hoping to silently reassure him, without giving away that you two were on friendlier terms than what was previously thought. “I’m sure you remember Geralt of Rivia.”

“Aye. It’s hard to forget a Witcher. Especially one as famous as you are.” Roger turned to Geralt, a friendly smile on his face. He offered Geralt his hand, and the Witcher shook it after a brief hesitation. “We’ve also been expecting you since we have your friend locked up.”

“Would it be possible to get an audience with Francis this morning? I know it’s early, but gossip flies at all hours of the day, so he must be awake.” You plastered on the friendliest look you could. “Also, I am sure the King would love to know who actually killed his man.”

“You got that right.” The King of Beggars stepped around the corner. You looked at him in surprise, not thinking he would meet you at the gate. Usually, you had to go to him, not the other way around. “I heard Roger’s excitement clear across the Grove and figured I should investigate.”

“Francis.” Your voice came out a little warmer than you intended given the man you were travelling with. You felt Geralt shift closer, a certain possessiveness rolling off him. “It’s always good to see you, unfortunate the reason though.”

“Indeed.” The King of Beggars looked between you and the Witcher thoughtfully before his eyes landed fully on Geralt. “But we do have a few leads if you want to follow up with them. I can have Roger write them down for you.”

“What about—” You started to ask, your worry for Dandelion overpowering your need to be polite.

“Your friend is being well taken care of I assure you.” Francis turned to you, a flirtatious smile on his face. You felt a blush paint your cheek bones suddenly. You had forgotten what it was like to have his sights set on you, and the charm he could suddenly turn on. “However, if the lady wishes to see for herself, I cannot deny her.”

“I think we will.” Geralt interjected. You hide your smile behind a hand, pretending to yawn. It was amusing to see him so worked up over a few looks. Francis Bedlam didn’t seem phased by Geralt’s reaction, and turned to lead you to where the Dandelion was being kept.

“Geralt!” Dandelion called out around a mouth full of bread. The breakfast sitting in front of him was better than most, and the room he was kept in was clean and warm. “And you brought Younin!”

“Hello Dandelion. I see you got yourself into some trouble again.” You sat across from, picking up a slice of apple from his plate.

“I wouldn’t be a proper Bard if I didn’t find myself in some sort of trouble every now and then.” Dandelion wiped his hands on his tunic before reaching across the table to grasp both of yours dramatically. “But you must believe me! I would never murder anyone. Ask Geralt, I don’t have it in me to do such a thing.”

“The sight of blood does make you nervous.” Geralt took a seat beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. Dandelion noticed how close you two were sitting, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. “I knew all that talk about following the Path and needing no one was false. You scoundrel. You better treat her right.”

“Unlike you, I actually would kill for her.” Geralt lowered his voice so that Bedlam’s men stationed outside the door wouldn’t hear. Your stomach flipped at his admission, having never heard him speak so confidently about his feelings for you before.

“I would gladly cross swords with any who threaten my Priscilla.” Dandelion stood up grandly sweeping out his arms. Luckily Geralt had the sense to reach across the table and yank back into his seat. “But I swear this was barely an insult, and all we did was cross words. I did not kill him.”

“Listen, I don’t care what happened. I care where it happened.” Geralt cut Dandelion off before the Bard could continue. “I need to examine the alley, and the longer it takes to get there, the more the evidence is contaminated.”

Dandelion told you as much as he knew, and the rest you got from Roger and the King of Beggars. Geralt seemed to breath a sigh relief once you were out of the Putrid Grove and away from Francis and his smiles. You watched as he shifted into Witcher mode, heading out to find clues about the murder, hoping there was still enough there to go on.