#spent slightly longer on these and actually bothered to do shading and stuff

[raaorqtpbpdy]

I drew more Mokuba because I cannot stop myself. I don’t even like drawing but he’s just too damn cute 🥺

[luminari-mc]

(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

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

It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[coeurdastronaute]

HSAU: College Part 1

Previously on HSAU

Morning started the same, every day, rain or shine. Four thirty in the morning, the alarm beeped in the small attic room, and under one section of angled roof, where a pile of blankets slumbered, an arm would appear and slap around until the offending noise stopped. It was precise and methodical and never changed, six days a week.

Lexa ran her hands over her face after pushing off the blankets, but stayed in bed just a few seconds longer, orienting herself. Though it was still summer, the sky hadn’t brightened just yet, and the night was disinterested in ending anytime soon. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and cracked her joints and yawned before grabbing an old shirt to throw over her sports bra and slipping on a pair of shorts. The fan in her window hummed along while the crickets outside groaned in the heat. Outside, the neighborhood she grew up in was quiet and still. A dog barked and calmed itself. No cars moved at all. Every picket fence and yard with signs and flags slumbered before dawn came, and Lexa was the first among the living. July was awake before the dawn as well. It shook off the night from its coat and stretched forward and backward before loping into the streets, covering every surface with a few inches of thick heat. Without the sun, the heat rose up straight from the ground itself, radiating out into the world. Lexa paused halfway through her run and tied her shoe as the light changed for no cars at all. As she stood she dried her forehead on her shoulder and started off again. Her run got insanely longer with the new summer route that took her out towards her uncle’s garage. For no reason at all. “Where’s Bear?” “I let him sleep in,” Lexa smiled before distracting herself with wiping the sweat from her face with her old shirt. “I ran here though, so that’s impressive.” “Yeah, I mean... no Bear though,” Clarke shrugged and hustled about the café, preparing for the opening. It took just a second, but somewhere between flipping the sign on the door and moving to make the second round of coffee, Lexa grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and tugged her back, kissing her like she had been waiting to do since she started her run. “Your mom still at that conference?” “Until Thursday.” “Want me to help you pack?” “Why don’t you let me actually pack and then come over to watch a movie or something,” Clarke chuckled and pushed at her girlfriend’s chest. “I am a great helper.” “No you’re not,” she smiled and ran her hand up Lexa’s neck, pushing her body closer as she found herself stuck between the counter and her quarterback. “I could barely walk after the last time you came over to help.” The words made her shiver, but Lexa grinned as she swallowed and ran her hands over Clarke’s hips. “But you were way more relaxed.” “I can’t wait until practice starts again. You need to work off all that energy somewhere else.” “How about another training session tonight?” The puppy dog eyes were in full effect, distracting her from everything else. The jingling of the bell at the door made them pull apart. Lexa smiled politely, clearing her throat as her girlfriend adjusted her apron. Just a few more days, and they would be gone, away from the safety of their little town. The entire summer had been spent avoiding thinking about it too much, had been spent disappearing to float down the river, to watch movies much too late in Lexa’s room until her mother would come home late from work and politely remind them of the hour, to drop Aden off at his science camp and disappear together to the mountains and spend the day hiking, which inevitably ended with lounging in the shade atop the hill. Lexa took her seat, at her table, and waited until Clarke finished with the first few customers of the morning. Miraculously, without even having to order, a water appeared, with a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Just like nearly a year ago, the quarterback sat there and studied plays as the morning rush came and went. Most of her time was spent watching the girl with blonde hair and cheeks that had that damn smile. For the life of her, Lexa couldn’t figure out how she was going to find the motivation to run when she moved to New Haven. XXXXXXXXX

The evening was growing long in the tooth, but neither party could be bothered to let it end without a fight. And even though a mother made her presence known from time to time, it didn’t deter the two sweethearts in the attic hideaway. Nothing really could, with the late-July heat settling on the roof, angry and annoyed. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room this clean ever before,” Clarke observed as she hunkered down on the bed while Lexa finished packing and straightening up. “It wasn’t ever dirty, it just feels… I don’t know. Less lived in.” 

“I wasn’t going to leave a mess for my mom.” 

“I know. I just don’t like any of it.” 

“You’ll be doing the same thing in like six weeks.” 

“Oh no. I’m definitely leaving a mess for my mom.” 

Lexa chuckled and zipped up another duffle bag before tossing it on the pile. She gave her room a finally glance and felt a twinge of sadness in the base of her heart, a tiny little tug on her body that felt like she was already gone. She fell into her bed beside her girlfriend and smiled when a hand pushed hair away from her face. 

“You’re going to go across the country tomorrow,” Clarke whispered. “And I will miss you. But you are going to do something spectacular.” 

The quarterback slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, her thumb touching the warm skin there. She liked the feeling of her, and she wanted to remember it. 

“I’ll miss you badly.” 

“Obviously. I’m incredibly missable.” 

Lexa smiled as Clarke held it there and kissed her eagerly, without holding anything back, to try to say what she couldn’t. Hands gripped on her hips and she pushed forward toward Lexa. Hands moved to her neck and she dug her hands into her girlfriend’s hair. 

“I’ll come see you when you move in,” Lexa promised. “Just a three hour train ride and I can be there.” 

“And you’ll work very hard earning that starting spot this summer. No distractions. And if you get a chance,” Clarke grinned and slide her hand up her girlfriend’s stomach. “To get in shape.” 

“You oogling me is really good motivation.” 

“I don’t oogle,” Clarke shook her head as lips moved to her neck. She felt Lexa settle atop her and closed her eyes, pulling her closer, always closer. “I appreciate.” 

“You’ll have a good summer, right? Not miss me too much.” 

“I’ll miss you plenty, but I’ll try.” 

“Will you, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, her lips a little puffier, her eyes a little more dilated, her hands touching skin and aching for more. “Would you do me a favor?” 

“Your mom is still making dinner. We have like an hour before dinner. I plan on doing a few favors for you.” 

“No, no, not that,” she shook her head. “Well. Kind of that. But I just… I want you to have a good time this summer, and not think about me. But while you’re doing that, could you watch out for Aden? He gets… he gets quiet sometimes. And my mom. She works too hard. I don’t want to leave them.” 

Her eyes were a little glassy with the confession and Clarke pressed her hand to her chest and nodded with a smile before kissing her softly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” 

“You have no idea how good that is to hear.” 

“I can imagine.”

“Any favors I can do for you?” Lexa ventured with a smile. 

“One or two.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t easy for the first week, but Clarke kept telling herself that if she could make it one week, then she could do it, without a doubt. As hard as it was, she clawed her way through the first seven days without Lexa almost intact and only cried a handful to a dozen times. 

They survived with FaceTime and texts and calls. She got to see a lot of Lexa’s new world with tons of pictures and a lot of eager explanations, and Clarke made sure to keep plans with friends, electing to fake it and hopefully find some moments of happiness. And she did, swimming with friends, parties by the river, working at the café. It was all doable when she didn’t take any time to think about it. 

And every night when she talked with her girlfriend on the phone, Clarke had something to tell her that she did that day to keep herself busy. And she got to hear about how crazy training was, and how awesome the team was, and how exciting being on her own seemed to be. Clarke could handle listening to Lexa talk for hours. 

But there was something she needed to do, and she waited until the first milestone of a week to muster up the courage to do it. 

“Clarke, honey, it is so good to see you,” Gabby opened the door and smiled, wiping her hands in the towel on her shoulder before hugging the girl at her door tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Clarke sighed, melting into the motherly embrace. 

“I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken.” 

“Is it cooked?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she ushered her guest inside. 

The house smelled warm and delicious, and somehow felt a little different without Lexa’s bag of gear by the door and her cleats clogging up the entryway. The noises were still the same, some music playing over the small radio on the kitchen counter and Aden’s music thumping overhead, but there wasn’t a happy girl about to lope down the steps at the sound of the door and kiss the guest, and everyone knew it. 

“How have you been? How’s summer so far?” Gabby asked as Clarke followed toward the kitchen. 

“Not too bad. Normal stuff. Working and preparing to leave.” 

“Ah, to be young and with the summer ahead,” she wistfully sighed before taking the chicken out of the oven. 

Her phone rang, and Clarke saw the familiar pep in her step to answer it after she looked at the clock, familiar with the schedule Lexa liked to keep. 

“Hey, kid. How are you?” she smiled at her phone as her daughter’s face popped on the screen. “Your timing is great. Look who just showed up for dinner.” 

Clarke waved at her girlfriend from the counter earning a huge smile. 

“Make sure the chicken is cooked,” Lexa offered.  

“Way ahead of you.” 

“How was practice today? You still sore in the shoulder?” 

“It was great. I got some time in on the first line and had a really good film session. I just got back from dinner with a bunch of the guys. It was Shawn’s birthday, so we went to get a bite at this awesome Chinese place I can’t wait to show you both.”

“And you’re back in the dorm by nine?” 

“A couple of the other guys went to grab drinks, but I’ve honestly never been more tired in my entire life, and we have a five call time tomorrow for conditioning.” 

“Okay, honey, well thanks for calling me. You should sleep.” 

“I will. Clarke, wake me up later so you can tell me all about dinner and your day?” 

“We’ll see,” she shrugged and smiled. 

“I’ll be half asleep but I’m extra cute when I’m half-asleep.” 

“It’s true,” Gabby nodded. “She’s impossible to tolerate when she’s awake.” 

“Very funny,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I love you guys. Have a good dinner. I’m sorry I missed it.” 

“Get some sleep,” they both ordered. 

It was a good dinner. Clarke enjoyed her time with Lexa’s family as she always did, and she felt a little better that Lexa gave her something to do. Maybe it was a win-win all along, that Lexa got to make sure her family was watched, and Clarke would have something to do. She wasn’t sure she could give Lexa all the credit for the plan, just that she was glad it worked out that way. 

XXXXXXXXX

It had been a long two months. Clarke felt every second of it, she thought, despite how busy she was preparing to move across the country. There was still work, and there was still time with friends, still the summer shenanigans she’d come to love, still time with everyone else who was going their own ways as well. 

It took forever and it went on in a blink. But by the time she got off the plane and picked up her luggage, she realized she didn’t particularly miss home at all. As she stood on the curb and waited for an Uber, she wasn’t as daunted by the idea of change as she had expected, but rather eager to embrace it all. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, you’re going to have to move along--”

Dumbfounded, Clarke stared at her girlfriend, who seemed to have somehow gotten taller and prettier in their time apart, standing next to an old truck. Clad in a backward blue ball cap and a torn up workout shirt that looked as if it was still dirty from a morning practice. 

“What are you--?” Clarke began to ask before smiling too much and launching herself into her quarterback’s arms. 

It felt good, to feel Lexa’s arms around her waist, to smell the sun on her neck, to fit so snuggly there. Clarke squeezed with all of her might, kissing what she could smooshed there, with Lexa’s arms returning it, a laugh in her throat strangled from escaping. 

Somehow Clarke realized her legs wrapped around Lexa and she was essentially a koala, latched there. She didn’t care. She kissed her girlfriend, ignoring the honks of the cars and the swirling police that wanted to usher everyone along. She somehow became the person who missed another persons lips. It was infuriating. 

“How did you know?” 

“My mom told me about your flight,” Lexa shrugged. “I borrowed a truck from one of the guys on the line. They think you’re hot.” 

“Well, that’s… sweet, I guess.” 

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“You’re getting soft on me, Woods.” 

“Yeah,” she grinned, squeezing again. “I don’t care. I knew no one would be here to take you to school.” 

“I was just going to uber or taxi.” 

“I’m going to be the person who takes you where you need to go, even if you don’t ask or expect it, and not in as creepy a way as that sounds--”

She was silenced with another kiss as Clarke struggled to hide her smile. 

[phobiadeficient]

BLU M!Sniper and RED F!Sniper split roasting their lover M!Scout?

(warnings for roughness and mention of jealousy, possessiveness, etc)

He had to know it was a long shot, but there he was, giving her puppy eyes and trying his best to explain himself.


It was a bold thing to ask. And he admitted as much, admitted that he knew she hated the guy, and besides that he didn’t know how fond she was of... well, sharing. She spent probably half the time she complained about things complaining about the guy being a bastard, and a shitty sniper overall, accusing him of being a prick and having a big head and being a coward first and foremost. But also, Scout just thought, y’know, maybe...

And she had a very confident ‘no’ locked and loaded, ready to go, but then she looked back over at him and saw those puppy eyes again, and the only word that she managed to say after a minute was a particularly grumpy “Bugger.”

And when she eventually said yes—with a few stipulations—he didn’t exactly need to know, that... some of the problem was the fact that after a few years, her frustration with the other team’s Sniper had gotten a bit... charged. In a few ways. And she made sure to stress that she wasn’t going to be the one putting in the leg work to try to convince the bastard of anything, but she would be calling the shots.

The speed at which Scout agreed to all of that made her a little concerned that she was somehow being played, still.

Then apparently he actually managed it, then they were meeting at a bar, and Scout tactfully placed himself between the two of them at that bar so they wouldn’t strangle each other before they could talk, and she knew him well enough to be able to tell that his smile was just slightly forced as he looked between them.

“Uh, so, Snipes,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh, we figured the name thing might get confusing, so I’ll still be callin’ you Snipes, but, uh—“

“Mick,” the other Sniper cut in before he could keep rambling. “Just call me Mick.”

“Funny, rhymes with ‘prick’,” she quipped.

His jaw tightened. Scout fidgeted, hurried to cut in again.

“Uh, but, yeah, I couldn’t get into details much since I figured we could kinda figure that stuff out a little better once, uh... once we get there, y’know?” he trailed, glancing around their vicinity briefly, self-consciously.

“I get the gist of it,” Mick said. “Agreed enough to show up, at least.”

“Not worried we’re here to ambush and kill you?” she asked.

“Implying I’m scared of you,” he said, and her grip on her glass tightened, and she was about to say a few choice words when she felt Scout’s hand on her knee, squeezing lightly, and she just huffed, taking another drink.

“So, if you’ve got any, uh, questions—“ Scout tried.

“Here’s one,” Mick cut in. “What are we all telling our employers?”

And he was surprisingly civil after that while they talked briefly about the implications for their jobs, and came to the collective conclusion that if one of them was screwed over, they’d all be screwed over, so they didn’t particularly plan on being rats. Sniper then informed Mick about a few house rules, mainly that if Scout told him to stop or let up, he’d damn well stop and let up, and that he could get rough if Scout asked, and Scout flushed all the way up to his ears during the entirety of it but for the most part she considered this important enough to ignore him.

And then they were finishing off their drinks, and then they were heading to the motel, and then Scout was getting them a room key and left the two of them alone for a moment.


She had Mick by the collar in a moment, yanked down to make up for the two or so inches of difference in their heights. “Alright, you listen here,” she growled, sunglasses pulled off for the moment. “I bloody well mean it when I say that I don’t want you trying to make this into a contest. He’s my boyfriend, end of story. No matter what happens, I had him first. Clear?”

“Too bad you apparently need to bring someone else in to help keep him pleased,” Mick smirked, grinning like a bastard, and the only thing she could think to do that would wipe that stupid fucking smile off his face better than a swift punch to the nose was to kiss him like she wanted to maim in the process, so that’s what she did.

When Scout came back not even five minutes later, he found them both flushed, hair a mess, looking borderline murderous. “So... we’re doin’ this?” he asked feebly, and was yanked bodily towards their room.

She found herself on top of Scout in bed, boxing him in and kissing him like the world was ending while Mick mucked around in the bathroom. She didn’t waste time before starting to pull him free of his shirt, of his belt, and wasn’t surprised to find him already half-hard by the time she got a hand into his pants to cup at him.

When she pulled away enough to try and get her own shirt off, she registered the surprise that seemed to be evident on Scout’s face, the vague confusion largely overshadowed by awe. And she took the opportunity to bend down, mouth finding the space just under his jaw, stopping there to nip and suck hard enough to make him jolt, groan, grip at her shoulders—not pushing or pulling, just holding on for dear life as she sucked a mark and finally pulled away to look down at him again.

“Mine,” was all she said, voice a growl, and he nodded vigorously, clearly already dizzied by the entirety of what was going on.

And then she heard the door to the bathroom opening, and she pulled back enough to glance back in the direction of it, and was only half-surprised to see Mick already shirtless. Still had the shades on, though.

“Be patient,” she murmured to Scout, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek to quiet the beginning of a complaint when she sat up and climbed off him, moving to her bag to get what she’d need.

And by the time she’d untangled the increasingly-familiar harness and gotten it most of the way on, she was distracted by the sound of a stifled groan. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that apparently Mick had taken over for her, and was two fingers deep and carefully spreading Scout open, quieting how loud Scout tended to get with a biting kiss.

She paused entirely to watch for a few seconds, surprised by how hot that visual was making her, sending a shiver clambering up her spine, and even slightly more surprised at how quickly he was working. Clearly he had some experience with this.

“Bring a lot of men around seedy motels?” she couldn’t help but quip, trying to distract herself from the heat thrumming through her.

Mick pulled away from the kiss to raise an eyebrow at her. That was when she noticed that apparently Scout had coaxed him out of his glasses. “Enough,” he admitted casually, tone entirely more level than it should have been given the way that, now without a kiss to distract him, Scout had needed to bite down on the meat of his own hand to keep quiet, a litany of pleased little noises pouring out of his mouth.

“I imagine this is just another Saturday for you, then,” she huffed, finally managing to get that one buckle that always stuck to cooperate with her.

“Nah,” Mick replied, glancing back down at Scout for a moment while he reached and took his by then straining dick in his hand, giving it a brief pump just to hear the way Scout’s voice cracked high for a second. “Have to admit, this one here’s been caught on my scope a few times besides just to shoot him. He’s good-looking.”

Scout looked like he very much wanted to reply to that somehow, but his first word was replaced by a choked noise as Mick twisted his wrist just so and squeezed around the head, thrusting his fingers once, hard. She caught Scout’s eye, saw the same awe on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure this was really happening, then saw the hunger flit into his expression as she pushed the toy into place on the harness and finished tightening it. “You’re right on that,” she agreed, moving over and cupping at Scout’s cheek, feeling the heat of his face under her hand and grinning at the fact that he couldn’t seem to decide whether to look at the strap or at her face. “But if you think he looks good now, you should see him here in a few minutes.”

“Might not be that long,” Mick replied, glancing over at the attachment and pulling his fingers free, wiping off his hand.

“I’m, I’m good,” Scout agreed, nodding hard. “So, how are we gonna do this, are we—“

Mick shut him up with a pair of hands bodily flipping him over and promptly pulling him up onto his knees, and Scout’s shiver of pleasure at the manhandling was misread by Mick, who squeezed his hips comfortingly for a moment. “Me in front, yeah?” he asked Sniper, who nodded, Scout hurriedly stammering out in the affirmative as well.

And she was slowed down in her attempt to arrange everything how she pleased at the visual of Scout fumbling his way through trying to open Mick’s pants one-handed, just a little bit too pleased at the notion of sucking him off, taking him into his mouth with enthusiasm that was just a touch too much, made that jealous streak flare up for just a second, and she didn’t bother reining herself in as much as usual as she dug fingernails into his hips, pushing in.

That groan he always made at that initial push was muffled, then echoed by Mick as Scout sank further forward and apparently did something very right. She couldn’t tell as well from the angle she’d found herself in, and didn’t particularly care. She’d only care if those noises started sounding too strained.

“Pull his hair,” she suggested, pleased to find that at the very least, she got to be the most put-together. Mick glanced up, expression hazy. “He likes it.”

He did so without further commentary, threading a hand in through the longer hair up at the top of his head and tugging, using it for leverage to push him down further. Scout groaned his appreciation, a distinct flex in his back letting Sniper know he was honestly leaning in to it just as much as Mick was pulling.

Alright, she was coming around. He won. Scout was right. This was a good idea.

She didn’t bother warming him up into things, knowing that he’d sometimes complain about her going too slow when she did it on normal nights, and he’d be even more frustrated if she did now. She just started straight into rocking her hips in steady motions, knowing by then just the right rhythm to leave him breathless without making her get too out of breath. She could keep it up for a good, long time, and always ended up enraptured at the way Scout melted, arching into it and gasping and moaning and gorgeous.

This time, he was a little distracted by clearly putting a good amount of effort into sucking off the other man, but even then he was noisy, and that only made Mick buck into his mouth all the more often.

“Gorgeous thing,” Mick choked, petting through his hair for a moment before snaring it and using it to buck into his mouth with more intent than before, and Scout just moaned, tilting slightly to accommodate. “God. Like you’re bloody made for this.”

“You have no idea,” Sniper said, breath a bit hard but still even, rhythm speeding for a moment to make Scout squirm. “I go too long without doing this to him and he gets so needy. He’d probably beg, if I made him wait too long. The way he begged for this tells me that much.”

“He’s blushing,” Mick informed her with a breathless sort of chuckle, and she saw that his ears were indeed turning red. “Poor thing. Can’t even defend himself with his mouth full.”

Scout made a quiet noise in the back of his throat that might have had something to do with the little extra roll Sniper put on the end of her next thrust, but Mick raised an eyebrow, pulling him back from his hair.

“Somethin’ to say, there?” he asked, hand falling to tip Scout’s chin up, and Sniper heard the way he was panting and slowed down her thrusts, knowing how close he had to be if he was making that kind of noise on the exhale.

Scout panted for another few moments, and finally made a disgruntled noise, shifting his weight. Sniper had to move forward with him a little bit, and he choked on breath for a moment before he recovered enough to speak. “If you’re gonna fuck my mouth, do it already,” he said, voice harder than expected. “And, and you can pull my hair harder than that.”

Sniper chuckled at Mick’s expression, slightly taken aback but clearly thrilled by this turn of events. “Alright then, get back down here,” he rumbled, and Scout did with enthusiasm, and then the pace was shifting.

She waited until Mick found his rhythm before she matched it, stepping up a notch, moving in double-time with the thrusts into Scout’s mouth. The skin of their thighs slapped together and Scout made desperate little noises every few thrusts, clearly completely overwhelmed by the way he’d gone so lax she needed to hold up his hips some amount for him. She only stopped occasionally to try and catch her breath or to readjust, shifting to long, slow strokes aimed as best she could to drag mercilessly against his prostate, and Scout whined helplessly each time it happened, bucking for emphasis until she started back up into the speed she’d had before again.

Mick seemed to sense something she didn’t—probably aided by the fact that he could see Scout’s face, feel his moaning—and told Scout to stroke himself. He did, moaning kicking up in pitch with his desperation, and that pushed Mick over the edge, swearing and fucking more roughly into Scout’s mouth before he spilled with a hard shudder. Scout moaned his pleasure when he could get air, strokes slowing down as he focused on not choking, and then his mouth was freed and he was panting and groaning against Mick’s thigh, rocking more firmly back into Sniper’s thrusts.

“Gonna come for me?” Sniper crooned in the sweet, teasing voice that always made him shiver when he was like this. “C’mon, we wanna see.”

Mick hummed in the affirmative, petting through his hair. Scout’s head was tilted a bit now, and Sniper watched Mick’s thumb drawing across his bottom lip, watched Scout’s eyebrows screw together with it, eyes falling closed, and Sniper filed it away as something she should try on him later. She moved to those long, firm strokes again, and Scout choked on nothing, going tense, jerking under her.

“Gorgeous,” she praised, rocking once and twice more for good measure, and he unclenched his teeth enough to gasp at it, and then he was relaxing, breathing hard.

She pulled free slowly and carefully, and Scout’s grunt of vague discomfort was muffled, Mick having leaned down to kiss him, still dominating but considerably more gentle than before. She left them to it as she stood to unclasp the harness, a little out of breath herself.

She’d only gotten one leg free when a pair of arms snaked around her waist, a familiar nose pressed into her hair, a breathless little chuckle fanning against her overheated neck. “Hey, c’mon, what about you?” Scout mumbled, half teasing and half hopeful.

She scoffed, but it was hard to get much feeling behind it. Seeing him like that, and the way the strap pressed against her as she’d been fucking him, and how hot the whole situation was, it all added up to make her feel… well. A good bit more turned on than she’d thought she would be. “What about me?” she asked, kicking free the rest of the way and trying not to separate from him.

“I want you to like this, too,” he said, and she jumped a little at the feeling of fingers trailing at her inner thigh.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ll be—“ she started, and was cut off as her breath hitched, Scout having gotten bold enough to push his fingertips against her more firmly. Her exhale was shaky as he trailed his fingers against her, the slickness there under his callouses apparently taking both of them by surprise if Scout’s little gasp was any indication.

“Jesus,” Scout whispered, sounding a little awed, a little desperate. “C’mon, please? I can’t just leave you like this, I wanna—“


His index and middle fingers found either side of her clit, rubbing with just the right amount of pressure, and her knees threatened to buckle for a moment. “Ngh,” was what she managed instead of a proper response, pulse hammering, and she gasped outright as Scout’s other hand rose to cup and squeeze at her breast, making her arch. “Christ, I, fine, just—“

He nosed her hair aside, pressing a kiss into her neck and kneading at her just so, his own breathing a little shaky.

“Wait,” she bit out, and he stopped, freezing in place.

That gave her time and brainpower to move, turning around and pushing him down onto the bed again, boxing him in with her legs before leaning down, kissing him absolutely silly. His noise of confusion morphed into a noise of contentment, hands finding her waist almost automatically. When she pulled away again a long moment, he was flushed and clearly a little dizzied, his lopsided smile on display. “That a yes?” he asked, hopeful.

She glanced him up and down. “Mostly I’m just surprised you’re still up for more,” she admitted. “Figured we’d put you through the paces already.”

“Nah,” he said, squeezing appreciatively for a moment. “You know I’m always up for more of whatever.”

“Even after getting fucked two ways in one go?” she asked, eyebrows raising.

“Especially,” he admitted, head turning for a moment to glance at the other man, who admittedly she’d almost forgotten about. Mick appeared to be about halfway through a cigarette, shamelessly ogling the two of them, making no attempt to cover himself up and grinning a little when she met his eyes.

Mick looked at her for a moment, then down at Scout, who she felt shift a little under her, clearly preening at the attention, at the heat there. Mick stretched his neck from one side to the other languidly and reached to tap out his cigarette before he looked back over at Sniper. “You’ve got rubbers, yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded. “How about I take back and you take front this round?”

She blinked, glancing him over, then down at Scout. She was honestly a little surprised to hear they were ready to go again already, having not expected much more than that first round and maybe an attempt to crowd into one mattress if Scout was feeling particularly needy after. But then she looked at his face, and Scout seemed to be trying his hardest to give her his best puppy eyes.

“Bugger,” she sighed, and Scout grinned.

[douxspider]

— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. (3)

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) — Waking up at Reader's place, we finally get a glimpse at Arvin's POV. Though, while their relationship seems to be moving forward, it seems like the whole 'running away into the sunset' deal only happens in fiction.

+ this is the third part to peachy keen! (ao3 link)

warnings: angst, almost smutty but nothing explicit is written, mentions of murder, preston teagardin lmao, rated mature word count: 4,244 published: 9/24/20 ao3 link — part 1, 2

— — • — — 

When Arvin woke up leaned against you, he felt his face turn into a beet shade of red. Slowly parting from your leaning form on the couch, he rubbed his eye, unaware that he had an actual decent rest in such a cramped position. He hardly ever felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed. Usually, attempts at sleep were mostly met with staring at the ceiling blankly, recalling haunting memories on repeat in his head.

His thoughts were blank when he fell asleep. Arvin was met with nothing but the television’s staticy audio and the sound of your quiet breathing.

He looked over to take in your features— what amazing features, he thought— and found his hand carefully creeping to the side of your face to brush the knuckle of a finger near your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it lovingly.

Arvin loved you.

He knew he shouldn’t— he knew he had no idea what love was— but within the few months spent together, Arvin knew he liked you too much to be calling it ‘liking’ and ‘platonic’.

That one stormy evening alongside memories of beating the hell out of Lenora’s bullies, blood and bruising splattering his knuckles like paint, he needed a place to clear his head. He needed a place that was quiet in every way shape and form. Arvin had been driving with a foggy haze before his eyes had locked onto McCann Boys. Arvin wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything, he just needed to sit somewhere other than a damn car where he could swerve into a building and die.

When he stepped in, the immediate smell of sweetness overloaded his senses, and he found himself hesitantly sitting down in a booth, wringing the cloth against his knuckles in a patterned fashion.

Then you approached.

And by God, had you been the prettiest sight to see. If it were on any other day, Arvin would’ve been sure to come up with better words than asking if he had to buy anything.

That’s not how you talk to a pretty face, his father would scold in his head, y’wanna smile at ‘er, and make her feel all sorts of butterflies. Y’gotta make her feel like the only girl in the world, son.

Arvin often had his father’s coaching in his head when it came to things like this. Though, it didn’t really make sense most of the time. His father didn’t live long enough to meet Arvin in his ‘girl phase’. This was more than a phase, he promised himself, looking at your resting form. And my, had the universe been so forgiving of him, making sunlight drawing from blinds rest on your features, highlighting your skin and making you look like a pure, unadulterated angel.

He wanted you.

Arvin bit his bottom lip. He wanted you so bad. He wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to take you away from this lowly place in Ohio and bring you somewhere nice, somewhere with beaches and sunshine, away from disgusting preachers, dried blood and judgmental eyes.

Realizing the first time you went to that church, Arvin could see the way that no-good priest looked at you. He knew what that man did to Lenora. He knew everything. Arvin got up from the couch, his fists turning stark white as he paced towards the apartment door, red building at the sides of his eyes. Arvin had to protect all the girls in town. He had to. For Lenora, for Y/N. He had to go and—

“Arvin?”

Hearing a voice that reminded him of bells, Arvin turned around, seeing you slowly rise up from the couch and looking over to make contact with him. “Where are you going?”

Your sleepy tone was so amiable. Your eyes were so dazed, blinking as you gave a small sniffle, scratching at your shoulder.

“I was…” Arvin trailed off before coming back towards you, kneeling in front of the couch and giving a smile as he took your hand. “I was gonna get you breakfast. As a thank you.” A lie, but it was fine. He was planning on watching the priest. Though, breakfast didn’t sound too bad. Time with you was worth more than anything else. You were all he had, next to his grandmother and uncle.

You smiled. He melted a little inside.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” you murmured as you clutched onto his hand. Your eyes were studious, flitting around his body, and he suddenly felt small. “Are you okay? I’m sorry about the sleeping stuff… if your neck was stiff, I mean, I’d feel bad—”

“Y/N,” Arvin spoke sternly, “that was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your eyes turned round, diluting slightly once they met the sunlight.

Arvin could hear his father’s berating tone in the back of his head. Say it. Be a man. He looked at the ground, holding onto your hand for dear life, uneasily balancing his weight on his knee. Though, Arvin couldn’t say anything. Nothing was coming out. There you were, waiting so patiently, being so patient with him, and he was at a lack for words.

Words wouldn’t fix this. Only action. Action would fix everything, Arvin knew this. He was taught this. He was always better physically expressing his thoughts and feelings than vocally or emotionally.

Releasing one of his hands from yours, he curved one underneath your palm and pulled your soft, untouched knuckles against his lips, giving a kiss. These knuckles have never hurt a soul. This being had never hurt anyone. Arvin would make sure it would stay that way.

He glanced upwards, his cap altering his view slightly, and he could make out the way your cheeks turned a different shade, inviting lips gaping slightly.

Smiling against your skin, Arvin moved his free hand to the top of yours and gazed at you. To his surprise, he watched as your thumb rolled circles against his own. You were smiling, and it was a smile to take in. Oh, it was.

“You’re sweet, Arvin,” you giggled so beautifully and he wanted to listen to his name coming out of your mouth on repeat, “...I kinda want donuts.”

Arvin couldn’t help but give a laugh under his breath at the change of moods. He stood up, continuously holding your hand as he refused to let it go, and said, “Let’s get donuts, then.”

—

He was angry. He was a pot boiling. Staring at Preston from afar, he watched from his car as the man interacted with a female shopowner who was fresh out of highschool. Arvin’s leg bounced within his vehicle, the sun setting, and he continued to survey.

Preston would interact with girls other than his wife. He would bring girls into his car and do unspeakable, unlawful things with them, then proceed to go back to the place he calls home and force himself onto his wife.

Arvin clutched onto the wheel.

While Preston was a horrible man who deserved the worst punishment from all graces of any lord, he found himself growing frustrated. Not even just about Lenora or all the sweet innocence the man took, Arvin found himself growing frustrated at his own damn self.

He would think about Y/N.

No, not doing such acts as those forcefully, imagining the same power dynamic, he would never. He meant it when he said he didn’t hurt girls. Arvin despised the man. He despised him and he wanted him gone. He wanted that man to suffer for what he did to his sister. Though, at points, he would drive up to your apartment and stare at the window that belonged to you. He would lick his chapped lips and his hand would shake as it reached the door handle. Then, Arvin would grow a clear sense of mind, he would receive clarity, and he would drive to the opposite side of town just to avoid even thinking about touching you in such a passionate way.

After a few days, Arvin decided.

He’d have to leave you behind.

He loved you, but he also loved Lenora, and Lenora deserved justice. Arvin could hear her voice already, pleading for him to let it go. To just let the man be. To leave. Do anything else. Settle down with you somewhere far, far away, start a life, start a family. Be free.

“I ain’t ever let anything go, ‘Nora.”

The priest was dead.

Arvin’s blood rushed through his veins as the sun set on the horizon, him zooming through the city streets, eagerly approaching your apartment.

God, it was a thrill. The adrenaline coursing through his veins after watching the damned predator fall onto the church floor bleeding from his wounds was cathartic. It made Arvin’s head whirl and turn dizzy. He had no moral thoughts, he was no longer moral, no longer a man that could be forgiven. Arvin felt the rage that built up within him for years be released with three gunshots, the guilt and agony of being alone and misjudged by any person left behind within the church.

Sitting in the car and hearing the blinker click at him, he turned it off once pulling into the lot. He took off his cap, carding his fingers through his hair, debating if he was really going to let you go.

Y/N offered a future he couldn’t take. It hurt more than anything.

Arvin glanced up at your patio, seeing you move from behind the window. You were only a silhouette. You were yet to be discovered by him in this manner, this new Arvin Russell. You wouldn’t recognize him, he thought, he wouldn’t recognize you.

It would be a completely different take on his life. He was no longer himself. Was he better, or worse? Was he a criminal, or a vigilante? Arvin didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t set in yet that he was no longer only capable of beating bullies shitless. He was so much more than that. He was more.

Arvin could do anything.

It was dark out. He finally found the courage to yank open the door handle and step out of his car. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing to lose.

Entering the apartment’s doors, smelling various spices of cooking or hearing children laughing from very muffled walls, Arvin found himself stomping up the steps, his heart beating against his ribs uneasily.

Staring at the room, noticing that the others around were vacant, Arvin could just about do anything. No one would know.

He clenched his fists a few times before finally knocking on the door with his knuckles. It was like the first time you two had met, his very knuckles expressing his pain and anguish, and you read onto the signs of a lonely man seeking solace. Arvin was still bruised and broken; just not in any place where you could see it.

You opened the door, and your mouth opened before closing abruptly. Arvin knew he must’ve looked like he just killed someone. Well, he did, but you didn’t know about that.

Arvin wanted you. Though, he’d be careful, you were the one delicate thing in his life. He had to treat you with care. He had to treat you so gently this night, for it would be your last with him.

Taking a step inside, he moved his hand up and cupped your cheek, moving his thumb— once holding a gun used to kill— so that it wiped gingerly beneath your bottom lip. Your jaw fidgeted slightly as you were attempting to find words. Though, your hand didn’t disagree with his actions. Instead, it met the back of his palm, planted gently on top of his own hand that held your cheek.

Confident, Arvin moved in closer and pulled you towards him, meeting your lips with his. You made a soft noise in your throat and it set Arvin’s mind on fire. Flames danced between your faces, and he felt you eagerly kiss back, your arms snaking across his shoulders as he found himself kicking the door with the back of his heel to close it shut.

Your hands found themselves on the surface of his head and pushing off his cap to knot fingers in his hair. Arvin didn’t even care. His body was burning underneath your touch as he found himself pressing you against the nearest flat surface, which was your dining room table that held a vase with hand picked flowers resting inside and a sweet floral mat keeping it level. You were so adorable, he swooned in his head, you were so precious to him and oh so good. You’re so good.

Wife material, Arvin’s head was screaming, he wanted to steal you away and marry you. You were lifted onto the mahogany table, Arvin’s tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You were so good, submitting your mouth to him, letting him roam the inside and clutch onto your hips so tightly it could bruise. Feeling your soft, untouched, blessed hands clutch onto his belt line had him push his pelvis closer to yours.

“Arvin—” you attempted, but he wouldn’t let you. No, he wouldn’t let you worry. You didn’t need to worry about anything, not with him around. He was your protector, he would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let you die or leave. He wouldn’t let you be hurt by anyone. Thinking about keeping you close to him in his arms, just this close, making you sigh from pleasure as Arvin plastered kisses down your jaw and to your neck to test the waters of what made you quiver; it was enough to drive him insane.

He found his teeth scraping at your flesh and you gasped, arching your body upwards and he felt your hips grind against his middle. It made him give out a guttural growl of need.

“Arvin, wait— wait, honey, stop—”

Arvin didn’t want to. Though, he would, just for your sake. He lifted his head up to meet yours, and once you made eye contact with him, your expression changed from flustered to concerned. Nurturing. Your hand met his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing itself underneath his eye, and he moved a hand to hold your wrist and gently kiss your palm.

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, as if you raised it any further it would blow Arvin away. “What’s going on?”

He wanted to tell you everything. You were so kind, you were everything, you were the sun and stars and sky. Nuzzling into your hand, he murmured, “Nothin’...”

“It’s clearly something if you come into my apartment and start kissing me like this, Russell,” you spoke, his last name strong in your city accent. Your voice was so stern, so dead set on uncovering him, and Arvin gazed at you, still high from revenge and loving you.

He hesitated. Arvin pinched his lips together, licking them faintly, still tasting your lip scrub on them.

Your warm hands met his burning face, handling them so sweetly. “You don’t need to give me specifics,” you started, “...just give me something, Arvin, so I know you’re in your right mind.”

Your name made his eyes flutter shut, nudging his nose against yours. “Say m’name like that again, sweet girl…”

“Arvin.” Your tone was more of a warning. It pulled him back from the sea of desire.

Arvin sighed, mumbling, “I had a revelation, darlin’…” his thumb rolled circles into your wrist, “I had a good day… ‘m a free man, Y/N. I wanna share this with you.” He opened his eyes to see you gazing at him so sweetly. “Let me have this night with you, pretty girl. I wanna make you feel as good as me. I’m sober, I promise, ‘m just intoxicated by the thought of you.”

“Such a flirt,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt himself smirking.

“Only for you.”

Your beautiful, reflective eyes stared into his. Then, they shut, and you moved your head forward to slowly encapture his lips. Arvin was more than eager to requite this. Fervor filled his loins as he clutched your thigh once it was squeezing against his side.

“Sweet baby girl,” he whispered into your ear, “Can we move this to your bed?”

—

When Arvin woke up, he had never felt more exhausted. He was hit with a newfound clarity. There was a soft gray shade leaking from the windows, and he squinted at the clock from across the room— wiping the fogginess from his eyes— and took notice that it was in the early hours of five a.m. Arvin went to move, but was barricaded by something clinging to his side.

His eyes were round as saucers as he took a hold of your nude bodies entangled.

Flushed, he quickly whipped his head back ahead, staring at the ceiling.

The confidence he had last night was almost embarrassing. Though, he licked his teeth and looked back to you, his fingers carding through your hair. Your hair was so soft to the touch, so perfect for someone like you, never missing the latest trends.

Arvin gave a hum of contentment, taking in your features in the early morning. Last night was full of unbridled desire, a fervor that the both of you had been bottling up for who knows how long. Perhaps, since that rainy day in the bakery, there had been that weird spark that compelled you both to do this.

He buried his nose in your sweet scented hair, pressing his lips against your warm forehead, hearing you shuffle and murmur under your breath. You were still very much asleep.

Taking in your sleeping face for the last time, Arvin gave a pained smile. He didn’t want to leave you at all. He wanted to keep you forever— he wanted to wake up to this every day— but he couldn’t let you become an accomplice. Arvin had to protect you.

With that, he managed to sneak his way out of your koala arms and legs and get dressed in his old clothing. Reading over the letter he wrote yesterday, Arvin felt his heart break with each word. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better than him— someone who could keep themselves together, who wasn’t so haunted by the past. You came to this city to escape yours, and he couldn’t drag you into his. He had to escape too. Some part of him knew you would understand that with time.

Arvin had stopped by a bakery quickly, ordering a lemon and poppyseed muffin with the most bittersweet feeling, coming back to your room to see you were still dead asleep.

He placed the muffin box down on the nightstand and folded the letter so that it stood up with your name on a proud display. Arvin’s hand wringed its way through his hair before he stared at his ragged blue cap for a moment, placing it alongside the muffin and letter.

Arvin leaned down to kiss you on the lips briefly, you giving a sleepy hum, pursuing your lips lazily before drifting unconscious again. He noticed that the sun was just rising.

The sunset brought a bit of hope. He watched you sleep for a bit, the purple turning into a golden on your features, before he made his exit.

—

Your body felt like jello. Giving a groan, your hands scavenged the sheets for the warm body that accompanied you that night, but you were left with a cold absence. Cracking your eyes open and grunting at the shine of the sun, the clock spoke nine a.m, and you were surprised Arvin was not with you.

You licked your lips and sat up. Stretching your spine, you noticed you were nude and blushed, pulling the sheets up your chest. “Arvin?” You called, noticing the lack of your friend— lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits?— and gave a long exhale. Luckily you had the day off, as convenient as that was.

Looking over, you noticed the hat, muffin box, and letter. Your name was in bold pencil, and you tilted your head curiously before leaning over and peering through the plastic cover. You smiled and saw the dark spots of poppyseeds on the treat. It was sentimental, and your heart nearly burst.

Gazing at the hat, you were inquiring if he just managed to leave it behind.

You decided to take the letter, opening it up and not preparing for what you’d read.

Y/N,

You’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am too. If you asked me right now, I wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

I did something that can’t be forgiven. Maybe not by the Lord, definitely not by law, uncertain by you. I don’t want you to worry. I’m safe. I can’t come back. I can’t give you a number or address. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know who I will be.

The world ain’t been kind. I know it ain’t been kind to you either. I don’t want to make things even worse for you, sweet girl. You’re everything I didn’t deserve. You said to me a long time ago that I deserve good, but I don’t. You are such a good girl, so much so I can’t have you. A part of me wants to be selfish and keep you. I know I can’t. I can’t do that to you.

You’re gonna hear about that preacher man. You’re gonna hear things about me, probably. I just want you to know I did it because I had to. You need to know that. I couldn’t be alive knowing Lenora wasn’t and he was. I’m sorry, baby.

I’m sorry for leaving you. I don’t want to. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be with me right now, pretty girl. I’d give everything just to see you every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ever since that day where you forgave me for the first time for my sins, smoking and drinking black coffee, I know what else I could fight for. I know what I could have just for myself. The sad part is, God is a sadist, and he won’t let me have you.

You asked me if I like Puppy Love, and I do. I’m listening to music for once as I write this, and I understand all the stuff they cry about on the radio. I know what it means to love. My heart ain’t ever been this broke before, sweetheart. 

I love you, Y/N.

As I said, we’ll be seeing each other again. Look out for postcards from my initials.

A.R.

When you finished, wet spots had been dotting the paper, and the last two initials were the final nail in the coffin. You let out a choked sob, leaning over to clutch onto the paper close to your chest. You collapsed onto the sheets, weeping, unable to comprehend. You kept asking why, why, why, even though it was right in front of you.

You flipped the page, noting the sweet lyrics on the back.

I cry each night, my tears are for you, my tears are all in vain, I hope, I hope and I pray, that maybe someday, you’ll be back in my arms once again.

Sniffling and wiping at your nose, you gave a few sobs, pressing your palm against your damp cheeks until they turned red.

You folded the paper and placed it back on your nightstand, curling in on yourself, clutching your sheets that still had Arvin’s presence lingering on them. Pressing them against your wet, hot face, you gave a few soft wheezes.

How could you tell Arvin you loved him, too? How could you write back to him? How could you sleep at night, not knowing he was okay? That there was no way you could tell him you’d wait forever for him?

You must’ve managed to doze off, as the sun was no longer as golden as before. The skies were a clear blue, and you managed to tug on tolerable clothes. Standing on your patio, you clutched the metal railings, staring down at the town with dismay. He was no longer here. This town no longer held that charming spark that you’d learn to love.

Walking back inside, you gazed at the letter, muffin, and hat. Leaning over, you grabbed the blue cap and rubbed your thumbs against the torn fabric, pressing the lid against your lips and kissing it. At least you had this— something you rarely saw him without. He gave you this, and your heart soared at the thought. Placing it on the top of your head, you took the lemon and poppyseed muffin and headed towards McCann Boys.

Marilyn perked at your presence, speaking, “Sweetpea, it’s not your workday.”

“I’m here as a guest,” you murmured, gazing at her, and Marilyn’s eyebrows rose at your expression. She gave a sorry nod at you, continuing to swipe down the counters.

You sat in the booth you and Arvin met at, and you took your seat, gazing at the ashtray emptily. Picking at the muffin, you fixed your cap to hide your face.

The radio near the coffee player began to sing. Your heart dropped, and you recalled the oh-so familiar lyrics.

...This is not a puppy love.

[deobienthusiast]

need a jacket

• pairing: lee jaehyun (the boyz) x reader

• word count: 1,051 words

• genre: fluff, comedy (but not really)

• warnings: none

• notes: this isn’t my best work and i actually wrote and then rewrote this because i struggled to write this for some reason. hopefully you like it though!!💙

Today definitely wasn’t a day you would have seen yourself ever having the chance to explore. A date with the most popular boy in your university, Lee Hyunjae. It felt like a dream. You had been one of those girls that easily fell head over heels for Hyunjae’s sweet charms and quirky personality. His voice and smile are constantly on your mind. You had only daydreamed about this day. The day Hyunjae confessed to you about how much he liked you and wanted to take you on a date, you were shocked, needless to say. You agreed almost immediately, and now here you were. Checking and rechecking your current outfit just minutes before Hyunjae was due to be at your door.

You spun around in the mirror, running your hands over the dress that you had on. The top was just a little low-cut, nothing too bad while the skirt wasn’t that bad either with a slightly short stopping place. You didn’t think it was explicitly bad so you kept the outfit on.

You did another once over of your outfit before hearing a knock at the door. You slipped on your shoes before going to the door. Opening it, you were met with a smiling Hyunjae.

“Hey,” He said as he handed you a bouquet before getting a glance at your outfit. “Wow. You look, really good.”

You smiled as you looked down at your outfit. “Really? You think so? It’s not too much?”

You pulled him into your house as he looked around.

“Nice place you got here.” Hyunjae said, admiring the pictures of you and friends that were hung on the walls or on the side tables.

“Thank you. My roommate is out of town for two weeks, so I've managed to keep the place looking clean. It won’t stay that way when she gets back.” You said as you moved some stuff around.

You walked to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase before rejoining the boy, reaching for his hand.

“I’m ready.” You told him.

Hyunjae nodded with a smile before stopping you. “Do you need a jacket or something?”

You shook your head as the both of you headed out the door. Hyunjae opened the door to his car for you before jogging around to the drivers side and getting in. He drove the two of you to a nice restaurant as he opened the car door for you. He grabbed your hand, before pulling you in front of him and moving the two of you inside.

“Table for two please,” Hyunjae said.

The host nodded before staring at you longer than he should have, making Hyunjae move to the side of you.

“Our table, please.” He said more sternly.

The host brought his gaze back to Hyunjae as he nodded quickly, grabbing two menus and leading the two of you to an empty table. You both got seated as a waiter came and took your order. He brought the two of you your drinks as you and Hyunjae made small talk.

You and Hyunjae seemed to have quite a lot in common, and you two spent more time talking then you did eating. The top you were wearing had become quite the distraction as you had ended up having to constantly hold your hand to your chest to cover yourself.

“Hey, are you sure you don’t need my jacket? You seem like you’re getting a little bit uncomfortable.” Hyunjae asked, concerned.

You knew the top was bothering you, but you didn’t want to really bother Hyunjae with the problem.

“I’m fine, really.” You said softly, urging him to continue the story he was telling you.

Hyunjae didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he continued nonetheless as he didn’t want to patronize you about it. As the date went on, your top continued to be a bother. You didn’t let it get too out of hand until the date was over.

Hyunjae gently helped you out of the chair as you both headed to the front to pay for the meal. Hyunjae generously paid for the meal as he walked you out to the car. As he opened the car door, you dropped your wallet.

“Crap, hang on,” You told the boy as you squatted down to pick it up.

As you gripped your wallet, you suddenly felt something warm wrapped around your waist. You looked down and saw Hyunjae’s arms retract from around your waist as you stood up. You felt an extra clothing item around you as you caught wind of Hyunjae’s light brown jacket wrapped snug around you.

You looked at the boy. “What’s this for?”

Hyunjae’s cheeks got dusted with a light shade of pink as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I, um, your skirt was riding up when you knelt down to get your wallet, and I didn’t want you to suffer a mishap.” Hyunjae said, darting his eyes everywhere except you.

You felt yourself blush as Hyunjae cleared his throat. “Um, we can get going if-,”

Hyunjae was interrupted as you kissed him softly. She stood frozen, before you felt his hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you into him. You brought your hands to wrap around his neck as he smiled into the kiss.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.” Hyunjae said as he leaned his forehead against yours.

You grinned. “I just thought I’d thank you for protecting me.”

He nodded as he pecked your lips. “I thought wearing the jacket around your waist would help you protect your dignity.”

You gasped jokingly as you shoved at his chest, making Hyunjae laugh.

“Look at you. You got the first kiss on the first date and suddenly you are bold.” You told him as he smiled.

“So are you saying there will be another date?” He asked with a teasing smirk.

You nodded as you leaned up to kiss him again. “Oh most definitely. There will be a second date.”

Hyunjae smiled as he kissed you again, this time more deeply than the others. “That’s very good. Next time, when we go out, can you not wear something so revealing?”

You giggled as he kissed you again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Hyunjae. I’ll cover everything, just for you.”

“Good.” He said with a content smile.

[cheese-ception]

The Gift

A very belated fluffy gift to my sweet friend Pandi! I hope you like it, my dear ♡ beta and all that good stuff by @masamune-archive sugar-free tags for @tsubaki3192​ and @spanish-aguacate​ - feel free to add them to your diet, bbys pairing: Leviathan (Obey Me!) x fem!MC warnings: none  word count: 1639 

The cafeteria was loud as always, laughter and shrill shrieks of the lesser demons cutting harshly through the air. The smell of grease hung amidst it all, causing Leviathan to scrunch his nose in disapproval. He stood in the line for what felt like eternity, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, reaching for his DDD frequently, only to be met by a complete lack of notifications. He shoved it back into his pocket, disgruntled but not surprised. After all, why would the normie text him when his brothers offered much better forms of entertainment than he ever could. He was just a lame nerd and aside of Henry nobody would want to be with him willingly.

The dark spiral of his insecurities came to a halt upon overhearing a nearby conversation. Why did they even have to be so loud, geeze... But he heard the human's name and curiosity overthrew any of his initial annoyance, his focus now fully on paying closer attention to the chat as it went on.

“And then she tried to ask if she could pay next time, because she spent all her grimm on some weeby collectible or some shit, haha! What a joke!'

Punctuating his speech by a slap across the ass of the succubus on his arm, the lesser demon laughed as his little story came to an end. The venom in his tone, aimed towards the human, set Levi off more than the any of the words themselves, causing his horns to sprout from his temples without him even realising.

Soon he was looming over the offender, the dangerous glint in his amber eyes leaving no doubt that he was indeed infuriated beyond what could be fixed by simple apologies. His clawed hand grabbed the demon's collar, lifting him into the air with unexpected ease, anger fuelling his actions with strength that surprised not only him, but all the nearby bystanders alike.

Levi was known to mostly keep to himself, but he was a high-ranking demon after all and despite his usual reclusive demeanour and calm visage, he was not to be trifled with. After a short interrogation for more details he tossed the lesser demon aside and strode out, tail swishing behind him in erratic sweeps, unable to calm down until he found out more.

He spent hours searching for the human, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found and he was certain that he looked everywhere. His legs ached and his chest hurt, worn out by so much unexpected exercise. He wasn't used to being out of his room so much after all and it already took all of his resolve not to just go back in there to chase it all away by gaming or venting out on the forums. Sheer anger was still filling him to the brim, almost as if he wasn't the avatar of envy but of wrath instead.

He felt a faint stabbing sensation and he was almost certain it was fear, illogical as that would be. Why would he be afraid, really? Because something could have happened to her? Why did he even care so much, when surely it was one-sided? Giving up the search at last, he decided to head in, shoulders slumping down in defeat, his demon form finally dissipating as the rage inside him began to subside, replaced by the usual void and self-doubt.

As if he was even good enough to find her if she did not want to be found.

It was all pointless.

He did not bother turning on the lights, leaving the room lit only by Henry's tank, to help mask his shame. Levi headed towards his tub, shedding his coat and hoodie off, ready to submerge himself in the calming water.

He reached for the faucet, just about to turn it on, but decided to check the tub just in case he forgot anything inside, only to freeze immediately.

A tuft of auburn hair peeked from beneath his favourite blanket, the very human he spent all this time searching for wrapped in it, breathing lightly in her restless sleep. Leviathan yelped, clasping his hands over his mouth much too late to prevent the sound from escaping him and she jumped awake, bumping into his chin painfully, almost causing him to raise his voice again.

This time he managed to keep it in, blush tinting his cheeks at her sudden proximity, but trying to appear collected as he steadied her with his hands on each of her shoulders.

“Oh, Levi! You are home!” she exclaimed, still too dazed to realize how inappropriate this all was. She reached out to hug him, only then finally snapping out of it as she leaned away from him, her back against the side of the tub.

“W..what is going on with you? I looked for you everywhere! You didn't even eat lunch and it's so already so late we missed dinner too-”

A loud growl interrupted his chastising speech and he gripped at his stomach in a somewhat comical attempt to stop it from making even more noise.

She giggled, a sound so sweet to him that it made him freeze again, his gaze dropping away from her as shyness overtook his previous attempts at reprimanding her for her foolish actions.

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” he retorted, titling his head sideways and stealing a quick glance at her dishevelled form.

“That I did not have lunch. You just said it, but I do not remember telling you about it and it is not like you ever go to the cafeteria yourself. It's much too loud there for you, is it not?”

She wasn’t mocking him. She actually sounded like she cared enough to remember that about him, that he really did not like it there because of all the ruckus. But that was not important now, surely... Or was it? “Well, I went today, because they had the rainbow pizza special, and some idiots there were talking about you not being able to afford the meal-”

Leviathan's pupils widened and he nearly bit his tongue, interrupted by her hand pressed against his lips, making him unable to carry on talking.

She kept it there, reaching over the side of the tub with the other, flustered enough that the tips of her ears were dusted in a light shade of red.

He stared at her in a mix of shock and awe, quiet even after she removed her hand from him, placing it on the top of a neatly wrapped package with a blue ribbon on it, pushing it against his chest hastily.

“Don't say anything else, just open it!” she uttered, gazing at him expectantly while he held the box in his arms, puzzled and taken aback by the intensity of her stare.

He obeyed her request, carefully unwrapping the ribbon and the wrapping paper to reveal the case underneath, fingers shaking slightly as he went.

It was a gilded display package adorned by intricate engravings, beautifully sculpted golden-plated leaves of ivy coiling around the long-sold out extra rare limited edition Ruri-chan figurine that he was after for as long as he could remember, yet never able to get it.

Now it was right there, in his very hands and he had to look twice to make sure he was not just imagining it, his throat tight and heart threatening to jump right out his rib-cage.

He blinked several times, pushing away the tears in the corners of his eyes, unable to speak for a solid few moments, simply staring at the gift in front of him.

“Y..you got this, for me?” he stammered out, his voice coming out so high-pitched he immediately regretted trusting himself to talk while still in shock, a fierce blush burning on his face like fire.

Cupping his cheeks, she gazed at him lovingly and nodded, the sight of it alone making him gasp softly and he was unable to hold his tears back any further.

Setting the box aside carefully, he climbed into the tub, pulling her into a hug, hesitant fingers brushing though her hair as she snuggled up against him, warm and delicate and...

His. Leviathan exhaled, adjusting his position slightly, allowing his digits to brush against her jawline, a touch so fleeting yet so filled with all the repressed emotions he has been harbouring for her for longer than he cared to admit.

“That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, but could you maybe promise me something?” His brows furrowed slightly as he asked, anxiety seeping into his thoughts once more before he even dared to follow up with the actual question.

“I am not one to make promises without even knowing what they're about, Levi. What would you have me do?” she chirped merrily, pleased with his reaction to the gift.

He swallowed, taking a few calming breaths before mustering up the courage to reply, biting into his lower lip a few times for the good measure.

“You'll have your lunch with me from now on, I can't very well have you skipping meals with a good conscience, even if it is for something this cool...” he trailed off, unsure if this would be something she would be willing to say yes to, clinging onto the faint hope that she might.

Crystalline laughter filled the room and she hugged him tighter, sliding her fingers between his as if it was the most natural thing ever.

“Sounds good! It's a date then!”

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, pleasantly overwhelmed by a powerful wave of happiness, a joy so absolute he could barely believe it. Her last sentence an even better gift than Ruri-chan herself.

It's a date then!

________ Masterlist

[percywinchester27]

About a boy (Part-9)

Word count: 2.8K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, child-trafficking and bullying

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: I’m incredibly sorry that this took so long, guys! That too after a cliffhanger. Really, really sorry. Hope you like it nonetheless :)

Thanks to my lovelies @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​​​​​​ and @deanssweetheart23​​​​​​ for beta reading this story <3

About a boy masterlist

Dean stood there stunned, as if someone had slapped the sense out of him.

“Don’t try to deny it,” Benny warned, his expression wary and almost threatening. “You’re not an orphan, so what the hell are you even doing here?”

“I-I am an orphan,” Dean said, surprised that his voice sounded steady when his insides were in a twist.

This was it. This was as far as Dean would go. Any moment now, Benny would go running to Andy and spill his guts about what he’d heard and there was nothing Dean could do about it.

Benny was still looking down at him with blatant distrust, hands crossed over his chest, waiting for an answer.

Maybe he saw the raw panic in Dean’s eyes, or realised that Dean was paralysed and wouldn’t answer because Benny eventually sighed and dropped his hands.

“Look,” he said, raising his chin slightly so Dean could see his eyes clearly under the hood of his cap. They were a startling dark blue. “I am not going to rat you out. I knew there was something up with you since the day you walked into our room.”

“H-How?” Dean asked, mostly to keep Benny talking. He wasn’t surprised that Benny had noticed all the unusual stuff.

“You disappear into the night, every night. You look like you have an agenda,” Benny shrugged. “I’ve spent most of my life in an orphanage, I know homelessness when I see it. You’ve never looked homeless. And then there’s that pager in your bag.”

Dean scowled. “You went through my stuff? You spied on me?”

“Like you aren’t spying on this place, yourself,” Benny shot back. “I knew you were sneaky. Finding out all I could about you was self preservation instinct.”

This was the most that Dean had ever heard Benny talk. His voice had a roughness that sounded out of place for a teenager and over that there was an odd graveness.

“I’ve had my reservations about you, especially since you and Castiel have gotten so close,” Benny paused, and Dean realised that all this while Benny had also been curious for Cas’s sake. Cas was a frigging saint when it came to looking out for people and it was natural to take a liking to him, to want to keep him out of harm’s way. It was why Gaberiel- who never bothered about anyone but himself- had gone out of his way to help Cas on that night of Dean’s initiation. Apparently, Benny wasn’t immune to Cas’s weird power over people. He had been worried about Cas getting mixed up with a bad person.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s up?” Benny asked impatiently. “You’re involved with the police somehow so I can guess where this is going. Spill, Winchester!”

Dean started talking, his eyes trained on the second button of Benny’s coat. He talked and talked and talked till his throat felt dry, about his past, Bobby, Jody and… the Stynes. At that Benny drew in a sharp breath.

“What about the Stynes?” He asked.

Dean knew a bit about Benny’s past. How he used to be a friendly boy before his best friend was shifted, or to put it more correctly, before his best friend disappeared. This was why Dean had been completely honest with his story.

“We think that the Stynes are involved in child trafficking. That all these kids who suddenly get transferred or whatever, are being shipped off to God knows where and forced into begging rackets or maybe even prostitution.” Dean had never said the last part out loud. It disgusted him to his core, scared him that he might be actually right. And the last thing he wanted was to be right on that count.

Under his cap, Benny had gone completely white. His hands clenched and unclenched. Then, he looked hard at Dean and said, “You really think that’s the case, too, then? That whatever is happening here is not normal?”

“Look around!” Dean gestured, so relieved that Benny wasn’t going to turn him in, that his voice sounded exasperated. “Does any of this horse crap feel normal to you? Of course something is wrong!”

On an impulse Dean added, “But I am not doing this completely out of the goodness of my heart either. I have my own interest.”

Benny raised an eyebrow.

“My brother,” Dean said, “The one I told you about, who I was separated from…” Dean paused, checking his voice. Why was it always so hard to talk about Sam? He’d had years to accept the truth, then why was this still so hard? Would it always be like this?

Dean cleared his throat, then said, “I have reason to believe that he’s actually here. Jody figured that I could continue looking for my brother as long as I found real dirt on the Stynes. Two birds with one stone. I know you must think I’m selfish,” Dean added, “To do this just for my brother, but-”

“I get it,” Benny said, “If I could, I would do it all to get Jaime back.”

“Jaime?” Dean asked but he had an inkling of who he might actually be.

Benny’s eyes were far away as he said, “My buddy. They took him, too.” Then, he looked right at Dean. “Look, if you’re really going to find out what’s happening around here, then I want in. I’ve been here for a long time, not as long as others, but I’ve been suspicious for a longer time than most of these buffoons.”

Benny put a hand in his over large coat and drew out a bunch of keys. “This is the master key set,” he said. “I’ve had this for a while now; stole it off Garth once when he was distracted. It opens most of the doors in this place. I’m not sure Garth even tries going into the west wing, but if you’re gonna go scouting the place, this might be of help.”

Dean frowned. This was too good to be true. “If you’ve had the master key all this while, why didn’t you try to sneak out and use it yourself?”

“Use it and do what?” Benny hissed, “I see the look you’re giving me, Winchester, but I didn’t have the Police backing me. I shouted till my throat was sore when they took Jaime. But no one listened. Not a single soul came out to help me. And the punishment I got for it… Oh, the punishment.” Benny moved up the sleeve of his arm to show welts on the back of his wrist. They looked like thin vertical burn marks.

Dean’s eyes went wide.

“His name was Jacob. Jacob Styne. Didn’t even blink as he put the rod to my skin,” Benny murmured.

Dean suddenly felt too cold under his clothes. This was terrible. The Stynes were monsters… And Andy was a sick son of a bitch. He was supposed to be in-charge, he was supposed to protect the kids. Instead he just watched and let this happen. Dean wanted to punch him where it would hurt seven shades of Sunday. And boy, did he wanna put the Stynes behind the bars for they did. To Jaime and countless others.

“Why didn’t you run?” Dean asked, eyes cast down and away from Benny now.

“We don’t all have a father of sorts waiting for us,” Benny said, but not unkindly. “It was either this or another round of foster homes. Known evil is better than the unknown one, I suppose.” He jingled the keys in the space before them

Dean nodded, grabbed the masterkey and then limped back towards the dorms after Benny disappeared out back.

“Dean!” Cas exhaled, jumping out of his top bunk. “What took so long? I was worried about you.”

Cas looked harried. His black hair was plastered to the side of his face with sweat and the backs of his thumbs had nail marks in them. Cas did that when he was anxious.

“And you look… weird,” Cas said, giving Dean a once over. “Have you been crying?”

Yes he had been crying, but he wasn’t gonna admit to that. Instead, he pulled Cas outside and towards the far end of the corridor, away from the crowded area, then told him everything. From seeing Jody to Bobby and finally Benny.

“Whoa!” Cas looked dazed. “This means we don’t have to wait for Andy to sneak out to his weird dates. We can go to the record room whenever we want. We can have access to all those files.”

“Tonight,” Dean nodded, “After the lights out, we sneak into the west wing.”

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

Dean lay on his side, facing the wall that night. Waiting for the time to be right. Over him, Cas was very still in his bed, which was how Dean knew he was up, too. Usually Cas tossed and turned quite a lot and the old rickety frame of their twin bed shook with him. It was past 11 when Gabriel came to bed. He rolled over and fell asleep immediately. Dean gave it 15 more minutes, then quietly stepped out of bed, Cas following in a few seconds. Dean nodded to Benny on his way out. Whether or not Benny wanted anything to do with Dean’s epic nightly adventures, he was unfortunately at least a silent accomplice and audience now.

As sneakily as they could, he and Cas  made their way towards the end of the corridor and the west wing door.

“Okay, here goes,” Dean huffed and inserted the most promising key into the lock. Did not work.

“Damn it!” he swore, then tired another one.

“Dean, I hear footsteps,” said Cas, edging closer. “Hurry.”

The third key clicked and Dean pushed the door open. He and Cas slipped inside and pushed the door shut, hoping against hope that the clang wasn’t a give away. They waited with their ears pressed against the cold metal till the faint footsteps faded and Cas breathed out in relief.

“I thought we were done for,” he said.

“Not yet,” Dean replied grimly, peering ahead of them.

The west wing was darker than it was possible to imagine and it smelled strongly of rust, damp salt… and like something had died and rotted here for ages.

Behind him, Cas gagged.

They moved cautiously in the general direction of where the staircase would be, reaching out with their hands, trying to feel the space around them.

There was a distant muted thud from ahead.

“Did you hear that?” Dean whispered.

“Hear what?”

“The noise… from the corridor ahead!” he said.

“There can’t be,” replied Cas. “This side is abandoned, remember?”

But Dean was almost sure he’d heard something from up ahead, like metal being scraped against something. However, Cas was right. Maybe it was Dean’s head getting creative in the dark.

“Here’s the staircase!” Cas exclaimed. “Right here.”

Dean was going to point out that there was no ‘right here’ in this doomed dead hellscape, but he let it go and followed Cas down the spiraling steps, all the way to the ground floor. The dim lights from the front driveway made it easier to find the way to the eastern side here, and within minutes they found themselves in the record room, the door safely shut behind them.

“We did it!” Cas grinned. Dean was about to fist bump him to celebrate the small victory when the shadow at the far end of the room moved and Will came into view.

“Will! What are you doing here?” Dean hissed, outraged. What in the name of holy mother!

Will gave no expression. “I could ask you the same,” he retaliated.

“God damn it, kid!”

“Hey don’t go swearing on me like you’re on some high horse here, okay?” Will pointed a finger at Dean. “You broke the rule, just like me, so stop acting all prissy.”

Dean was flummoxed. “How did you even get down here?”

“You two chuckleheads might have forgotten the incident of great fire, but I got you down here,” Will said angrily, pointing at Cas. “By picking the locks.”

Oh.

“And now,” he said, “You, Dean, are going to tell me exactly what’s going on. Don’t make some bullshit reason or excuse because I’ll know. I’m not stupid. You two act like you’re planning to overthrow a government with all your secret talk and you have me looking for some Sam, and never bothered to explain why!”

Boy, he really was angry, Dean thought to himself.

“Listen, Will…” Dean tried, “What we are doing here… it’s dangerous. Really dangerous. You don’t want to get involved in this.”

“The hell I don’t want to involve myself with this,” Will shot back. “I’ve been going out of my head trying to find your Sam for you. I don’t even know who he is. I almost committed arson for you, so don’t you ‘listen, Will…’ me, Dean. I deserve to know.”

Dean was taken aback with Will’s outburst. He didn’t know the boy was so invested, but he had to agree we Will.

He sighed. “You’re right, Will. You deserve the truth.”

It was like a recap of the morning, having to go through with the story again, but Dean did it just the same. Only, while Benny’s face had been impassive throughout, Will’s expression broke at the mention of the fire and how Sam was taken away. His hazel eyes looked watery and his brow furrowed with each word, to the point where Dean had to look away to be able to continue the story.

“So your brother, he’s here?” Will asked in a strangled voice.

“That’s right,” Dean said. “And Cas here has been helping me with the records, trying to find Sam’s file. Ain’t that right, Cas?”

Cas who had been standing silent all this while nodded his head, and Dean noticed him furtively rubbing his eyes against his sleeve. Dean’s heart gave a lurch.

“Alright,” he said hurriedly, trying to spare both Cas and Will the moment, “If you want to jump on to this train, pick a rack and start pulling out files.”

Will nodded vehemently, but the look in his eyes still had Dean’s stomach in a knot. It was tender and just so innocent. That kid deserved the world, and it sucked that he had grown up in a hell hole like this.

Cas had taken up a rack and was pointing to Will, showing him which of the shelves they had completed looking into. Will was as attentive as ever and quickly dove into the files. Dean watched them work. Cas squinting into the racks, the Torch they had left here last time balanced between his shoulder and neck, while Will flipped through the papers at an inhuman speed, his brown hair falling into his eyes.

Cas finally yawned, hours into the search “Hey check this out, I found Michael's file!”

Will scooted closer to Cas, peered over his elbow and read out loud. “It says he was found on the steps of the orphanage when he was about 3 weeks old. That’s horrible.”

Dean couldn’t fathom where Will got all his empathy from. He had been in the orphanage since as long as he could remember. Maybe his story was something like this, too. Dean was lucky in this regard, in the sense that he knew that his parents had loved him, and not left him on the steps like this.

“Well, that’s the 5th Angel-names Orphanage kid we’ve found,” Cas sighed.

Will laughed. “You know I always thought it was hilarious the names you guys got. I mean you got lucky, Cas. But the kids who got stuck with Balthazar and Uriel? I don’t envy them.”

“Yeah, right, William.” Cas made a face, but he did purse his lips like he was trying not to laugh.

“Don’t you think, Dean?” Will asked, looking up with his wide eyes. “Dean… Dean, are you okay?”

Dean had gone still. “How old does it say the others were when they got into that Angel-names Orphanage?” Dean asked, barely controlling his voice.

“It says that Raphael was 3 months old, Uriel was 8 months and Michael-”

“No… no no no no…” Dean chanted slowly getting up. “This can’t be happening. Fuck!”

“What happened?” Cas asked

But Dean was already backing into the wall, his heart sinking and spirits breaking. “Sam,” he whispered, breath leaving his lungs. “Sam was only 6 months. What if… what if they changed his name when they took him in?”

*******************************

A/N 2: Once again sorry for the delay. But I will post the next part asap cause it is already written! Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? I live for comments!

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[meganshinsou-tm]

Sugarcoated. (m)

↳ chapter nine: ready or not

❧ genre: pro-hero hitoshi, adoptive siblings, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Hitoshi's violet hues fluttered open to see his living room filled with shaded sunlight. He groaned stretching out his neck and rubbed the sleep from his tired eyes. The hero could feel a weight on his arm making him look over to see you snuggled up in his side with the couch blanket pulled up to your nose, your (h/c) locks had practically fallen from the hair clip you wore rendering it useless. Hitoshi took it out for you and tossed it onto the coffee table, wincing when it made a slightly loud noise, you seemed un-bothered by it though and only snuggled closer, your face burying into his chest deeper as you hummed softly and wrapped your arms around him.

The hero smiled and felt his heart dancing in his chest. You were so fucking cute to him in your sleepy state. His arm around your head played with your hair and it caused an unconscious smile to form on your plump lips as you hummed happily. His other arm wrapped around you and rubbed your back as he placed a kiss to your head. Hitoshi didn't mind laying awake with you in his arms for a while longer, he didn't dare bother you and wanted you to sleep for as long as you needed. 

After settling down on the couch together with pizza the night before, the two of you watched The Office together. You had passed out before he did, slowly falling over until you were in his lap, but as he did now he didn't bother waking you up and figured he'd just give you a few minutes before moving you to a bed. Somewhere between then he must've passed out as well.

The hero reached over and grabbed his phone from the arm of the couch and scrolled through it. He text his boss at the agency letting him know that he wouldn't be coming in at all that day, there was no use in going in for only a couple hours, plus you two had a lot to do that day. He spent a few more minutes just mindlessly browsing the internet until he had the idea to snap a candid picture of you. Raising his arm and turning on the selfie camera he caught you and himself in the frame. Unknown to him you were somewhat awake and slyly smiling. Right when he pressed the button on the side of his phone, your head lifted and placed a kiss to his cheek. Hitoshi froze for a second, his purple brows rising in shock. 

Turning his head he was met with (e/c) eyes looking back at him, sleepy but still bright as ever. You giggled and buried you face back into his chest mumbling incoherent words.

"What are you saying halfling?"

"I was asking how it turned out," you said turning your face.

Hitoshi lowered the phone and scrolled through his pictures and let out a hearty laugh. He placed it before your own eyes and you awed. It was a legit cute picture. You were smiling as your lips kissed his skin, his own lips formed into a toothless smile, one of his cheeks perked higher than the other and his purple brows raised in surprise.

"Look how adorable we are! You'll have to send that to me!"

"And sent!"

Only a second after he said that, your phone on the kitchen counter pinged, making you giggle. Hitoshi put his phone back up and cuddled your closer into his arms, rocking you back and forth. Your legs stretched out, one wrapped around him and you buried your face back into his chest with a sleepy groan.

"Sorry your first night was spent on the couch."

"No Toshi, it's fine. Believe it or not I slept great."

"Hmm, so did I. How are you feeling," he asked as you looked up to him. His hand brushed your hair back and his thumb traced your brow.

"I feel alright, I'm just sore as hell honestly but I'll be fine once you feed me?"

Shinsou laughed and kissed your forehead, trailing even more sweet and goofy kisses along your temple and across your cheeks, making sure to be careful of your wounded one. Your face twisted and turned as his lazy bed hair tickled your face coaxing giggles from your lips. At the moment Hitoshi's heart was so full from hearing your happy sounds and seeing your cheeks blush from smiling so much. If he got to spend every morning like this he would be able to die happy.

"I guess I'll feed you, it's time for second breakfast huh? You wanna cook something or go get some food?"

You smiled through your mess of hair up at him, a hand resting on his cheek. "Let's cook, what do you got?"

After finally peeling yourselves from the couch you got up to raid Hitoshi's fridge and pantry. You were feeling extra hungry so you left him in charge of making the eggs and bacon while you made waffles with a special topping. Your hands pulled out some ricotta, blueberries, lemons, confectioners sugar and honey. The hero quirked a brow at the ingredients but didn't question, you were the pro in this department.

In one bowl you quickly whipped up something up that consisted of just the ricotta, lemon juice and zest and sugar, then you covered it and put it in the fridge. Next you dumped the blueberries into a saucepan with some water and honey. Hitoshi watched as he used the opposite burner to cook the eggs. You looked over at him with a proud smile. To be beat to hell, covered in a few bruises and scars you didn't seem to let it affect your spirit at all. Maybe it was just because you were cooking and in your element, or maybe it was because of Hitoshi himself. Either way he was happy to see you happy. His hand reached over and pinched your cheek and you nudge him in the side.

Minutes later Hitoshi had finished the eggs and bacon just as you wrapped up making the waffles. He grabbed plates, placing a good amount of the scrambled eggs and bacon on two of them and placing them at the counter. You took the other two plates he got down and placed two waffles on each. Next you topped the golden and fluffy items with the blueberry and the ricotta stuff you made.

Shinsou watched as you stuck out the tip of your tongue, concentrating as you topped everything with lemon zest. The presentation didn't have to be perfect of course but he could tell you couldn't help yourself, you took pride in what you had prepared. His eyes finally looked back down to the food and widened, his mouth salivating. The blueberry and ricotta melted and blended together in swirls cascading into the small squares of the waffles and down the sides. The purple of the berries were bright and beautiful. The food period was beautiful!

"And voila! Waffles with blueberry compote and ricotta cream," you cheered placing a plate in front of him with a smile.

"Wow, I don't know what any of that is but it looks good! Hold on a second!"

The hero got up from his stool and jogged down the hall and out of the kitchen. You stood in your place, lips pursed as you waited for him to return, somewhat confused. Not long after, his feet were heard padding down the wood floors and back towards you, looking in his direction your brows rose as he held a camera in his hands. 

The camera looked extremely expensive and professional. He asked you to pick up one of the plates and bring it over to the actual dining table that was in front of a massive window. As you did so he opened the blinds just a bit and stood back, placing the camera window to his eye. The sound of shutters clicking started and you watched in awe as Hitoshi took pictures of the food in different angles and messed with the blinds here and there. Soon all you could focus on were his hands and how they held the camera. They were slender yet muscular, his fingers long. The device sat in his palms as if it were the most precious thing he could hold, sort of like the way he held your own hands. His violet hues glanced up at you watching him with your mouth agape. A lazy smile crossed his lips and he took a few more shots.

"Alright, now let's eat!"

You nodded and grabbed the plate and brought it back to the kitchen counter. Hitoshi sat next to you with his own plates and rested his elbows on the flat surface as he scanned through the multiple pictures he just took until he seemed to come to one that made him awe. You looked over and he showed you. To be just a picture of food it was stunning and it was your food that made it stunning.

"Toshi, you didn't tell me that you were into photography!"

"You didn't ask," he replied and looked at you the smuggest of grins as he stole your line.

"Touché!"

As you ate together, Hitoshi told you about how photography is a hobby of his, in fact the pictures hanging around his home were pictures he took himself. You were really amazed at this interest of his, it never crossed your mind he'd be into something like it but as you thought about it more it did seem to suit him. 

Hitoshi went on and on about his love for the hobby and it made you smile to see him so happy and gleaming, it was like how baking was for you. Looking around at the photos adorning his walls you realized just how good he really was.

"You'll have to let me do a shoot of you one day."

You choked on your waffles at his suggestion and quickly downed some water as he pat your back.

"Uh – sorry, why would you want to do that?"

Hitoshi smiled and leaned over to kiss your cheek, fingers softly pinching it, making it turn pink. 

"Why wouldn't I? You're beautiful and would look amazing in the lens of my camera. I'm always wanting to shoot different styles of photography and you'd be the perfect model."

Your eyes narrowed at him, not exactly sure if what he was thinking was pure or not. He widened his own violet hues and held up his hands with a laugh.

"No, no, no, nothing like that! I mean – not like I wouldn't like to do 'those' types of shoots with you, but of course I'd like to build your trust first!"

You hummed raising and lowering a brow, jaws aggressively munching on a piece of bacon making Hitoshi chuckle and go back to drinking his coffee.

"Maybe I'll consider it."

You dropped your apartment key on the counter and picked up the last small box that sat next to it and walked towards the door. Turning around you looked over everything and took in how empty the place was. Most people would be sentimental over leaving their first real place, but you were more than ready to leave the apartment in the dust. You walked out and shut the door behind you, making your way down the stairs, smiling when Hitoshi walked through the lobby door shaking out his purple locks as a thin sleet started to fall.

His own eyes fell upon your sweet and patched up face, a red beanie dressing your (h/c) locks that spilled out from below it and one of his coats swallowing your body. When the two of you arrived you were still in his clothes with an added coat since you didn't have any from the night before. Once getting to your place to start packing up your stuff, you dressed into a long sleeve shirt, jeans, boots and your own light hoodie and Hitoshi's coat. The hero didn't complain or ask for the coat back, he lived for how adorable you looked in his clothes.

"Last box sweetness?" Shinsou asked and you nodded and walked over to him.

He blew warm air into his hands and rubbed them together, "Alright, I got the jeep warming up. Ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

"Oh yeah Toshi, it's lunch time!"

Rolling his eyes Hitoshi slung an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. You were getting so used to his small and tender kisses to your hair and face, each time they warmed your heart and brought a smile to you. 

You and the hero walked out of the apartment building side by side and into the blistering cold wind. Your paces quickened to get to the vehicle faster. Hitoshi told you to go ahead and hop into the jeep while he took the box from you and put it in the backseat with the other boxes and bags. You didn't have a whole lot, mainly clothes, your collectible, and a few dishes. The groceries were running low as they usually do after paying off your bills so you didn't have to worry about emptying the fridge or pantry.

Hitoshi shut the backseat door and went to hurry and run to his side until he noticed you struggling to get into the vehicle. Pulling up the collar of his jacket and shaking his head he came up behind you and grabbed your hips to basically chunk you into the seat and closed the door. Once he got in on the drivers side you were still slumped over, face in the middle console in a fit of giggles.

"Sorry I just tossed you like trash but it's fucking cold out there!"

"It's fine Hitoshi. Your jeep is just so damn high off the ground and the cold just kind of paralyzed me," you giggled and finally sat up straight rubbing your hands together.

Hitoshi smiled and turned to face you, taking your hands in his and blowing warm air into them, rubbing them between his, just as he did outside of Aizawa's house. You smiled and let him do his thing, until your hands were nice and toasty. He kissed the insides of both palms then brushed up your sleeves with his thumbs and kissed your bruised wrists. His violet eyes looked up at you from under his curly lashes and your breathing hitched in your throat and your heart stopped.

"You ready cutie?"

"Ready for what exactly? For you to just swoop in and steal my heart with your fucking gorgeous perfect self and your adorable sister? Am I ready for that?" You asked yourself internally. 

He tilted his head awaiting your reply as he flashed you a lazy yet gorgeous smile that always made your heart melt and you knew in that moment that once that jeep had left from its spot that you'd be doomed to fall in love with this cabbage patch hero whether you were ready or not. 

With a sigh and smile you removed one of your hands from Hitoshi's and ran it through his purple locks for the first time ever, it was something you had been dying to do since the first day you met him. They were crazy soft and seemed to make the man smile even bigger.

"I'm more than ready Toshi!"

[living-on-the-virge]

Delphiniums & Desire [CH 1]

Summary: Remy Savidge is just a broke 22 year old guy. His life is going terribly wrong and at this point he has nothing to lose, so with encouragement from his best friend Roman... He finds a sugar daddy. Except falling in love wasn't quite part of the plan. Pairing: Remile (Remy x Emile) Warnings: Sugar Daddy stuff. Note: Nope. [AO3 LINK]

Remy’s grip on the letter tightened, crumpling the sheets between his fingers. He groaned and threw the letter down onto his small kitchen table before turning to kick his wall. His neighbour’s dog barked, and he glared at the peeling wallpaper as if that would shut the dog up. It didn’t. Obviously. His stomach growled and he opened his fridge, finding nothing but a half empty bottle of some weird smoothie (Something Remus had left behind. Remy hated the stuff.).

Remy grabbed his jacket – Black leather, a gift he’d gotten from Roman – and headed out the door, pushing up his sunglasses as he moved. It wasn’t warm out, the crisp October air bit at his skin and orange leaves crunched under his boots, but the glasses were more of a comfort item than protection from the sun anyway. He made his way to the closest Starbucks and pulled out his wallet groaning when he only managed to pull out a few coins. He replaced his wallet and took out his phone instead.

It didn’t take long for Roman to pick up the call.

“Roman, honey, so you know I’m like, the bestest friend ever-“

Roman laughed. “Want a coffee?”

Remy looked around, squinting through his glasses. “Yeah, of course. How’d you-“

“I’m inside of Starbucks and I can see you, idiot. Come inside.”

Remy chuckled quietly as he hung up the phone, walking inside and seeing a flash of red in the corner. Roman. Perfect. He walked over and fell, rather dramatically, into the seat opposite Roman.

“Alright, spill,” Roman demanded, sitting forward in his seat. He cupped his face with his own hands, watching Remy.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Spill what?”

“Something’s bothering you. My best friend senses are tingling. What’s up?”

Remy’s face dropped and his entire body seemed to mirror that. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. “My landlord is threatening to kick me out. Work is barely getting me any decent money. I have no food at my house and I’m broke.”

Roman’s expression softened and he reached over the table, taking hold of the hand closest to him. “Hey, Rems?” He said quietly.

“Mm.”

“You know you can stay with me and Remus, yeah? I know Remus is a lot to deal with-“

“He ate my fish.”

“Yeah, ok, ok. I know, trust me. He’s wild and it can be tiring, but he cares about you just as much as I do. The couch isn’t super comfortable but you’re free to crash with us for as long as you need.”

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He sat back up and Roman squeezed his hand before pulling back.

“Or you could get a sugar daddy,” Roman shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.

Remy laughed, but the idea stayed in his mind for the rest of the meeting.

The two sat in the Starbucks for another hour, talking about whatever came to mind. Remy’s worries, while still definitely tugging at him, were pushed back in his head for a while as Roman talked about some new chaotic mixture Remus had created at home. When they finally parted Remy felt better. Not great, but anything was an improvement from his earlier mood.

‘Or you could get a sugar daddy.’

Remy took out his phone and scrolled through the app store, trying to find an app that didn’t seem so shady. He found one with good reviews and ratings and sighed. It’s not like he had anything to lose. Maybe if his ‘sugar daddy’ tried to rob him they’d feel bad at how shitty his living situation was and they’d leave him alone. He chuckled at the thought as he downloaded the app and set up a profile.

He spent the next hour looking through profiles, sending his favourites to Roman for his opinions. Some of the bios made him laugh. His eyes caught a flash of pink and blue and he clicked.

‘Emile Picani, 32’

Fun, Remy thought. That was only a ten-year difference. Much smaller than the difference between some of his other options. The profile looked a lot more casual than the others – A softer tone, multiple cartoon references. Remy smiled as he screenshotted the profile and sent it to Roman. He got an immediate reply.

‘Princey: look if you don’t fuck him, I will :P’

He took that as a good sign and clicked the ‘Start Talking’ button. His fingers froze over the keyboard as it opened. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to act? How did sugar babies do this?

“Just be like, casual. Be calm. What do you have to lose?” He muttered to himself as he started typing.

‘Remy Savidge: uhhhHHHH’

‘Remy Savidge: damn, you’re so pretty I forgot what I wanted to say’

Remy groaned to himself and threw himself down onto his bed. There was no way this would work, this was stupid. He couldn’t even send a normal, human sounding message to the guy. How was he going to convince a stranger to pay his bills? How-

His phone buzzed in his hand.

‘Emile Picani: Cute first move, sugar. You made me blush! Nobody on this app has managed that yet.’

Remy instantly messaged Roman. How the fuck was he supposed to reply? How the fuck did he actually get a response. What the fuck was happening. He was going to kill Roman for ever suggesting this-

Bzzz.

‘Emile Picani: Your profile says you’re new to this. I’d be glad to help you out. If you wanna keep talking, here’s my number!’

Remy saved the number without thinking and instantly texted it.

‘Remy: is it usually this easy to get a number? damn, ive been doing it wrong all these years’

‘Emile: Aww, sugar. You caught my eye more than everyone else. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that start conversations with ‘Give me money’. It’s crazy.’

Remy smiled and instantly found himself sucked into the conversation. The two talked back and forth for the remainder of the night, and Remy found himself laughing multiple times. It was nearing 1am when Emile finally said goodnight.

‘Emile: Sorry to end things here. I need to get to sleep, I have work tomorrow morning. Maybe we could arrange a meeting on Wednesday? There’s a nice little café not too far from my office and I’m friends with the owner.’

Remy stared down at his screen. Already meeting? Did Emile want to talk about Remy actually being a sugar baby?

‘Emile: Unless I’m being too fast, or I misunderstood your mood. We could wait a little longer?’

‘Remy: no, no, just didn’t expect things to work like this. wednesday works. Some time in the afternoon? i like to sleep in’

‘Emile: Of course, sugar. I’ll see you then.’

Remy smiled as he turned off his phone and lay down. Now he just had to hope that this Emile guy was as friendly as he seemed. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now he just had to wait for Wednesday to roll around.

The café that Emile had chosen was nice. Not quite as busy as the Starbucks that Remy had gotten used to, but he appreciated the change. A friendly guy had greeted him as he walked in, all warm smiles and round-framed glasses and soft words. After learning he was waiting for Emile, the guy lead Remy to a table near a window and sat him down.

“Now, what can I getcha? Anythin’ catching your eye?” He asked, motioning towards the menu on the table.

Remy shook his head. “I don’t have any like, money right now. I’m good.”

The grinning man just laughed. “Oh, honey no. You’re waiting for Emmie, aren’t ya? You can order anything you’d like, that man is a softie and he’d’ve brought you something anyway.”

Remy felt his face grow slightly warmer as he looked down at the menu. “Uh- Black coffee and a blueberry muffin, please?”

He received a nod in return. “Of course. I’ll be right back!”

Remy felt the need to shrink back in his seat. Or run. What if this Emile guy didn’t actually arrive, or what if he did but he wasn’t nice, or what if Remy had to pay for himself, or what if this was all just some trap to harvest his organs for pie-

He hid his face in his hands. He’d been around Remus too much.

He heard footsteps and looked up, expecting to see a bright smile and a coffee, instead being greeted by one Emile Picani. Remy’s eyes widened behind his glasses. Emile was tall – Roughly somewhere around 6 feet tall if Remy had to guess, but either way he towered over the table. His hair was light brown and slightly curled at the ends, light freckles dotted over his cheeks and nose, and his eyes behind his glasses looked to be roughly the same light brown as his hair. He smiled and sat down opposite Remy.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long,” He said. “Traffic was terrible today.”

Remy shook his head and shifted in his seat, kinda glad that his shades mostly hid his staring. “I haven’t like, been here for too long.”

It was then that the friendly man from before walked back out, carrying a tray with coffee and a muffin. His eyes lit up when he saw Emile, but he held back his excitement until after he’d given Remy his items.

“Emmie!”

Emile grinned. “Hey Patton! Hope you didn’t scare Remy too much while I was gone.”

Patton pulled a face of mock-offence hand over his chest. “I would never. Dee would for sure, but he’s not in today. Family emergency.”

“Shame,” Emile said, frowning slightly. “I was hoping to set up another session with him. Oh, well- I’ll take the usual please?”

Patton nodded and walked off again. Emile turned his attention back to Remy. “Sorry about all of that, I haven’t been in here for a couple of weeks.”

Remy shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s fine. I get it. I like, do that with my friends too.”

Emile sat back in his seat and rested his arms on the table. “So, lets talk about this. Since you showed up, I’m assuming you haven’t changed your mind about being a sugar baby?”

“No.”

“Good,” Emile smiled, and Remy felt Emile’s eyes burn through his shades. “So, lets set up a few ground rules before we discuss allowances. Is that ok?”

Remy nodded.

“Alright! So, since this isn’t a fully committed romantic relationship, I’m not going to be bothered if you… Hook up with other people when we aren’t together, or even find a partner. That isn’t any of my business and I won’t stop you from doing that.” Emile nodded his head in thanks as Patton put down a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea. “I don’t work on Wednesdays or most Sundays, so I’m available to meet with you at least once and sometimes twice a week, and if you decide you want to meet more, you’re allowed to ask.”

Remy nodded along quietly as Emile spoke. Sure, he was listening, but he couldn’t help but pay attention to the small details in the older man. The way his hands twitched slightly as he picked up his cup, or the light freckles that ran down his neck.

“Anyway, for your allowance – Is there an amount you’d like to offer up before I say what I was thinking?”

Remy was pulled back out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times as he tried to come up with a number. “Uhhh. $300?”

“A week?”

“Y…Yeah? Is that too much?” Remy asked.

Emile paused for a second before laughing. “Oh, sugar… You really are new to this, huh? You’re precious. Alright, alright, my offer is $800 a week, as well as some gifts when I find something, I think you’ll like.”

Remy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Of course. Is that ok? We can discuss raising it once we’re both more comfortable with everything and if both of our wants in the relationship change.”

Remy nodded and grinned as he finished his muffin. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great.”

Emile’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it. “Oh dear.”

He stood up, dropping a few notes onto the table. “Sorry, sugar. I’m needed back at the office for something. I’ll text you later? We’ll finish up all the final details of the arrangement and hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

Remy made a noise of agreement and Emile rushed out of the door. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. This was definitely a story to tell Roman.

[flower-boy]

How To Train an Idiot

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

CollegeAU!Hide Nagachika x Reader (Majority Fluff)

***Contains cussing, sprinkles of sexual innuendos, language, and/or themes–and overall idiocy (from author and characters alike.)

Short Chapters/One Shots

A few days later, Hide decides to tutor you somewhere else other than his dorm for a change of atmosphere. You two sit in a booth at the Anteiku coffee shop, exchanging some key terminology for the ‘World Wars’ section of the test. While he goes on about important dates in the wartime history, you seem to be more preoccupied with drawing doodles in the margin of your textbook. Quite carelessly, you gently etch an endless array of flowers onto the paper as he rambles on. In your defense, you both had been there for some hours now, so it was not surprising in the slightest that your brain had finally decided to short circuit. A fraction of the time had even been spent introducing you to Hide's best friend, Kaneki.

The dynamic between Hide and Kaneki intrigued you immensely; they were two opposite sides of the same coin, so different in personality and looks, and yet their auras blended so well. Hide sure did attract a wide array of people in his life, but that was to be expected with the extensiveness of his personality. And, although you hadn't even known him for that long, it's something that you can admit is admirable. Kaneki, however, seemed to make Hide smile in a way you had not yet witnessed previously. It was nice to see him more relaxed in this setting.

Staring down at the way your fingers flex while shading a petal intently, your mind begins to plunge deeper and you start to muse more about that aforementioned smile that you’ve been seeing so much of lately— especially the cheesy grins he uses when you actually get answers correct. Then, you find yourself smiling at the secondary thought of his teasing laugh and pout when you get things wrong too. You couldn’t decide whether you enjoyed getting things right or wrong more…

Suddenly, you feel someone’s clammy fingers pinch your cheek gently.

“Ouch!”

“Hey, space cadet, are you even listening to me?” Hide complains. You nod blindly and clear your throat.

“Of course I was!”

The immediate deadpan of his face is enough to make you internally cringe at your carelessness.

He crosses his arms, “Oh really? Then what did I just say?”

“Something about… history and… Japan? Really interesting stuff,” you nod semi-confidently. He slumps onto the table in a heap of aggravation at your bullshitted response.

“I..." he sighs, "Your cup of coffee could've told me a smarter lie in half the words.”

“You can’t say I was wrong…” you tell him matter-of-factly as you fold your arms against your chest. He picks himself up and waits for you to process his insult to it's fullest potential before he responds, of course. “The fuck, wait a minute, are you implying that I'm stupid?!”

Hide let’s out a playful, abrupt laugh.

“I'm not saying I think you're stupid.” His lips smirk while reshuffling the index cards, “I just think sometimes your mouth and your brain go through more divorces than reality show housewives.”

“I hope you know that once this session is over, we’re gonna fight, right outside in the parking lot,” you tell him plainly.

--

You follow behind Hide through the shelves of the library as he pulls out random books every few minutes and puts them back after glancing at them intently. All the while he continues with his usual routine when you two come there, quizzing you throughout the process.

“The Edo period began when?”

“1603.”

He smiles to himself proudly, “And what did the Edo period deal with, in short?”

You’re silent and wince as you think of something to say, “Um, something involving Edo.”

Hide stops dead in his tracks and gives you the stalest glare you’ve ever seen him possess. You retaliate with a pout.

“We literally just went over this, _____.”

“I forgot already!”

“So remember! Jog your memory. Where is Edo even located?”

“Tokyo, duh. That’s where the ancient samurais fought the most, easy peasy.”

“Okay, sooo who was appointed as Shogun? And what happened to Osaka Castle during the Edo period that affected the samurais?”

You try to remember but you just can’t, and it frustrates you more than he knows. You know you know it, but the information never comes at the times you need it to. One would think that since he's encountered it enough times he'd have developed a solid poker face, but Hide still has to keep himself from laughing at the way your face naturally contorts when you’re frustrated and deep in thought. Eventually, you give up on the answer and narrow your eyes at the boy.

“You know what? Why don’t you build yourself a nerdy little dweeb time machine and go ask them yourself, okay?”

“If you're gonna be a smartass, first you gotta be smart. Otherwise, you're just an ass, you know…” he informs you with a sneer tugging at his lips. You give him the finger.

“Fuck you.”

“Name a time and a place, loser. As long as it’s not in Edo,” he snickers teasingly.

“Nah, at my place,” you retort with a broad smile, “While you’re at it when you come over why don't you slip into something more comfortable— like a coma.”

There’s a long pause of silence between you both before you two burst out in laughter at each other, attracting some well deserve stares for disturbing the silence in the area. Who cared? You shove him playfully and, just like that, you two are back to quizzing. Hide makes a brief mental note that he actually really likes how feisty you get when you’re angry and frustrated. He figures he’ll probably regret that later on, but for now he kindly thanks the samurais.

--

A couple of weeks later, the two of you are back at Anteiku going over the assigned reading the professor gave in class the week prior. After some thought, Hide had been taking you here a lot lately. And although a fair excuse would be that his best friend worked here and he could see him more, there was something strange about the way Hide had been acting lately in general. Whenever you asked to come over for tutoring, he was very insistent that you did not come over to his dorm anymore, let alone the boys’ dormitory at all. It only bothered you slightly, but still, the thought stuck with you in the back of your mind. Asking him what was up wouldn’t hurt, right? Maybe you were intrigued by something pointless.

“Hey, Hide,” you utter into your shared silence.

“What’s up?”

You hesitate briefly and continue to watch his dark brown eyes scan his textbook before finally saying what’s on your mind.

“We’ve been going to your dorm to study less and less lately…”

“For a doofus, you’re quite observant,” he says sarcastically, taking a brief sip of his tea. However, his eyes don’t move from his book.

“Is there any particular reason why?”

He doesn't miss a beat with his reply, “Nope. Why would there be?”

“I don’t know,” you narrow your eyes at him curiously, “You were so hellbent at me coming over there all the time before, and now we only study at the library or this coffee shop. And you tell me not to even meet you at the dormitory…”

“You’re right,” he sighs while flipping a page a bit dramatically, “Obviously I’m hiding my new uber mushy romance mangas from you. How tragic you find out this way.”

Curiously enough, scrutinizing him even harder from across the table revealed his now stiffening body language. Although you knew he was joking, you now could also see he was actually caught off guard by your questions. In the most basic sense, he was definitely a little tenser than before and still unable to make eye contact; Hide was typically really good at hiding his emotions nonetheless. You hum when you come to your conclusion.

“You’re not telling me something."

His hand freezes mid flip this time.

“____...”

“Hide.”

“____!”

“Hide!”

He groans and cracks under the pressure of your intent gaze.

“Okay fine, honestly… I just don’t want Terada bothering you anymore while you're over. That's all.”

Your brows rise, “Bothering me?”

“You know… like flirting with you… amongst other things. I’m sure you don’t like being hit on or called a babe every few minutes when you’re trying to study, yeah?” When you remain silent for longer than acceptable in his mind, simply to gauge his reaction, and he finally glances up at you from his book, “Dude, please don’t tell me you actually like that…”

“What if I do?” You counter, just for the fun of it.

“You come over to study with me, not to enjoy his ogling!” He complains with a dull frown lingering on his face. Your eyes grow wide in surprise at how worked up he actually is over this, but then you giggle with realization.

“Oh my God, is Mr. Hideyoshi getting a bit jealous?”

“I am not jealous! It’s not like we’re dating or anything-” he grumbles uncomfortably, “As your tutor, I just don’t appreciate him distracting you while we’re trying to prepare you.”

“I don’t pay any mind to Terada or his useless thirst,” you reassure him. You can practically see the feeling of relief wash over him in its entirety and it takes everything in you to stifle a bubble of laughter, “But we don’t have to go back to studying at your dorm. I like the open atmosphere here.”

“Good, cuz we weren’t gonna go back anyways,” he huffs. You roll your eyes and reach across the table, grabbing his cup and taking a brief sip. Hide snatches it from you and mutters something to himself grumpily about how people keep messing with stuff that's his. You decide to disregard that ambiguous remark...

“You don’t have to worry, you know,” you tell him and smirk, “I promise I won’t give my attention to anyone else but you, especially while we’re studying. Okay, babe?”

The pink dusting his cheeks is enough to tell you he understands you loud and clear, and you simply go back to reading your textbook with a faint smile gracing your face.

[luxexhomines]

Uhm, if requests are open can I get Yandere Kokichi and Shuichi (separately) with an introverted and easily overwhelmed s/o that loves them back but is completely, and shockingly, apathetic to them being yandere? Sorry if this goes against your rules or is too specific. Feel free to ignore/change this if you're busy or something, I don't mean to bother you ^^;

My first imagines request! I’m so happy! Yes, requests are definitely open and thank you for requesting, dear anon~Also, this isn’t too specific at all, anon, don’t worry! Although I would say that at some point if the request is so specific that you have the exact plots and reactions planned in your head, then you’d probably be better off writing it yourself. 

My rules are pretty flexible, although they look a little stern, haha. Don’t let them scare you off, they’re run-of-the-mill!

I’m not sure if this is what you wanted for the yandere, especially since I rarely do yandere, but I personally just went on the subtly creepy and soft side of it, partly because I don’t imagine the reader condoning violence. I wasn’t quite sure how to portray the “easily overwhelmed” part, but I tried to make it show up in hints of anxiety. If you’d like some more nsfw yandere or this isn’t really what you wanted, feel free to request again!Shuichi’s is longer because he doesn’t make an appearance right away. But these aren’t super long, so no cut. Let me know if I should put a keep reading, though, and if it’s clogging up your tumblr. I need some opinions on how long stuff should be before I put a keep reading.

Fuyuhiko icon credit to kilruas! 

Anyway, I should talk less. Here you are:

Yandere! Kokichi & Shuichi x Introvert! S/O

Kokichi Ouma

“Hey~ What are you doing, my beloved s/o?”

Kokichi had somehow managed to creep up on you when you weren’t paying attention, and you jumped in your seat, the half-folded origami crane falling from your hands, looking like a crippled bird. Some might say you were a crippled bird in the relationship you held with the boy, although you would quite beg to differ. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear nervously before answering, turning to face the mischievous prankster.

“I was folding a paper crane,” you smile, eyes narrowing slightly in affection for the purple-haired boy.

He grins back, a strange glint in his violet eyes.

“Why don’t you spend time with me, instead, then? Since you’ve got enough time to dawdle around folding origami,” he pouts, his arms snaking around you as his torso presses to your back, and you felt his warm breath floating downwards sweetly. A hint of grape wafted off of his body, and you leaned your head back onto his chest, looking up at his almost cherub-like face, although you knew all too well what lay beneath its angelic demeanor.

“Sure, what do you want to do?” you ask curiously, reaching out for the paper crane on the table. You wanted to finish it–half-done things made you anxious. But before even the tips of your fingers could reach the desired paper, a hand grasped your wrist tightly, cold and domineering.

“Uh-uh-uh. Pay attention to me, now,” Kokichi said softly, as if whispering, but a cold, hard tone made its way into his voice. You let your arm go limp, knowing that he’d relent if you gave up for now. You’d just have to finish it later.

At your act of submission to his will, his smile stretched wide across his face before he relinquished his hold on your wrist and stroked your head gently instead. “Good girl,” he says in that soft tone of voice–as if warning you to just dare try taking your eyes off him for even a moment.

You offer him a reciprocal smile, albeit a lot kinder and more tender.

“I’ll spend time with you any time,” you say. “Just let me know.”

Upon those words, he stops moving, and you see him lick his lips in thought before replying, a familiarly devious expression settling on his face. It was one much too familiar to you–and one you loved deeply even so.

“How about for the rest of your life?”

You shrug and chuckle shyly, feeling your cheeks fill with warmth.  

“Sure. It’s sweet that you think you’d like to be with me that long. I think even I’d get sick of spending time with myself for that long.”

Kokichi stays silent for a moment, and then you hear him laugh, quietly, although sounding like he was genuinely amused by your response.

“Oh, s/o… If you only knew.”

Shuichi Saihara

You were talking to your friends at lunch like usual–or maybe not. You usually spent lunchtime with Shuichi, but he did say he had to make up a test during lunch, which was extremely unusual for him as an honor student that rarely missed class or failed tests. He did sound pretty frustrated about it, but you reassured him, telling him that you’d be fine with your friends and wished him good luck on his test.

“Kaede, what are you having for lunch?” you wondered.

You hadn’t gotten your lunch yet, after all, and it was usually better to go in lines with friends so you could spend the extra time chatting instead of standing alone with your thoughts. You had plenty of time to do that at home, even if being around other people was rather tiring.

“I brought a bento for once!” she declared, looking rather proud. “See?” she opened the box to showcase black and white rice balls, along with a side of cut-up vegetables and octo-sausages. Your shoulders visibly slumped. Well, there went your plans of going to lunch with a friend.

You looked around the crowd of students and spotted Kaito, who was whistling a cheery tune as he walked to the lunch line, so you waved to Kaede before running off to join Kaito.

“What are you having for lunch, Kaito?” you spouted right after coming to his side.

He seemed rather surprised by your presence–you had been spending lunch with Shuichi in the classroom for the past semester–but you took no notice. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was thinking I’d just get the ramen. Even though this line is the longest, ramen’s still what I always get when it’s available.”

You nodded and smiled, your features brightening up considerably. Finally, you were getting somewhere.

“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”

Kaito looked happy, starting to consent, but his joy was short-lived as his face twisted into a mixture of horror and shock.

“Er, your boyfriend’s here. You’d best go with him, I think,” he says, visibly edging away from you, although he was starting to step out of the ramen line.

You felt a hand rest firmly on your shoulder and pull you back into a slim yet firm chest. 

“S/o, I’m done with my test. Shall we go?”

And you turned to face him as his hand slipped down to grasp your own, but before you could catch a glimpse of his face or say anything, he started walking away and pulling you along forcefully, which was rather rare for your soft-spoken and faint-hearted boyfriend.

You struggled to keep up with his long, quick strides, and stumbled, almost falling over, but he catches you in his arms swiftly, with a grace you didn’t know he possessed.

Instead of righting you and letting go of you, however, you felt his arms wrap possessively around you, drawing you even closer into his embrace.

Your voice came out muffled as your lips pressed into his uniform.

“S-Shuichi? What is it?”

He seemed to regain his senses momentarily, and you feel his grip on you loosen. You stand on your own two feet, stable again, and look at his face, which looks tinted with red as he puts a hand over his heart, looking pained.

“Sorry, s/o… I just…”

You lean in to take a look at his face, which is partially shaded by a baseball cap–the one he admitted to wearing when he wanted to hide how he felt or when he wanted to control his impulses.

“Are you okay?”

He worries his bottom lips between his teeth before replying.

“I leave you alone for hardly ten minutes, and this happens,” he mutters bitterly.

You put a fist in your palm, paying no mind to his ominous words and remember his appointment with the teacher.

“Right, you finished your test pretty quick! How did it go?”

He laughs self-deprecatingly.

“I don’t know how it went, really… I was supposed to take the entirety of lunch to do it, but I was too worried so I just finished it as quickly as possible so I could come and find you.”

You tilt your head, hair bobbing slightly, eyes looking directly at his, although his gaze was obscured by the cap.

“You wanted to see me that bad? We spend lunchtime, before school, and all after-school time together already. We even have class with each other,” you note. “Don’t worry about me,” you smile, slightly amused. However, Shuichi seems far from amused as his golden eyes turn a murky shade of molten light brown.

“It’s not enough for me,” he mumbles.

You had to take a moment to process his words–he wasn’t speaking very clearly, after all. But you were pretty accustomed to Shuichi-speak by now, having spent so much time with him. “You want to spend more time with me?” you ask. “Why didn’t you say so? Maybe someday we can have a sleepover,” you say innocently.

His face turns a bright red and then returns to its normal pale shade, his oddly dark gold eyes darting around until they land on you as he speaks.

“No matter how much time I spend with you, it won’t be enough,” he states. “I want to spend all my time with you.”

You fiddle with the collar of your uniform, embarrassed but strangely enough otherwise unaffected by his words. They did sound rather possessive. And it was true that you’d kind of like to have a life outside of Shuichi. But you loved him too much to actually reject him, and it didn’t really bother you, so you just beamed at him warmly.

“Okay. Why don’t we start with spending tonight together, then?”

[akiwisfics]

In the Middle Chapter 2

Notes: Cross-posted from AO3. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes.

Description:  The war's over, but the mess is still left behind. Kasumi finds herself among the wreckage with unexpected companions and questions that seem almost impossible to answer for. Life keeps moving forward, however, and the surprises it leaves behind aren't always pleasant ones.

Pairings: KasumixSha’ira

--

Kasumi let very few truths into her world, but if there was ever one thing that remained so consistently true throughout her life it was that fixing things took hell of a lot longer than taking them. Of course, she was familiar with both concepts to a certain degree, a necessary part of her career. And right now, fixing the damn communications tower seemed to be about the only thing she was good for.

Which, she supposed, wasn’t an entirely new thing either. The Normandy had been kinda like that. Cerberus had been a shady organization for sure, filled to the brim with monsters, fiends, and even more human like people, all with some shades of color in their history, but as soon as Shepard became involved, there wasn’t so much stealing as trying not to die, and that one trip through the boiling vents.

Some mornings she still woke up with the stench of melting flesh stuck to her nostrils, and would fill her taste buds for hours afterward, to the point where she couldn’t eat without thinking about a different kind of cannibal. It was almost a shame that she was used to the mixture of influences even the most heroic of characters left her.

Taking, taking was a lot easier. Taking precious treasure, taking lives. In the end, it was the same principle, and usually one led to the other, didn’t matter the start. It wasn’t a worry any longer as it stood, after years. A moral crisis would’ve come much sooner anyway.

But fixing things had been the start of it. The batarians understood some of the basics after all, just not always the practice of it. In order to break and take efficiently you needed to know how it worked. In order to know how it worked, you had to start fixing and playing with it.

The plate still itched when one of the engineers pulled her away from the mine. At the time she had simply called him green boots. For years afterward, all she would know about him was the muddy grass smell on him and the web of scars that formed his hands. The camp at the time was pretty small, just along the side of a valley.

The varren barks trailed behind them with their crunching feet to the cliff side overlooking sharp rocks she’d hear desperate others talking about jumping on sometimes. Kasumi couldn’t recall if anyone had done it, whether out of genuine ignorance or repression, and she was far too young and stupid to consider it at the time.

Only staring at it numbly, resisting the urge to claw the healing skin at her neck away. Green boots had a throaty laugh to him that in maybe friendlier contexts would be comforting. However, for a child, it was a sentence of death sometimes.

"I’d focus, Pyjak," he had rumbled into her ear, "that’s where you’ll be going if you fuck up."

But she’d always been a very good student. Sometimes, the lights of the machines coming to life would remind her of the whites of Ashok’s smile. It was more comforting than it should’ve been.

Most of the mornings she spent working on it had been a misty spring, cool against her skin and easy to draw a small smile to her face. It was always easier to breathe when there was something more natural about the atmosphere, where she can experience the real sun and blistering heat to this. However the adjustment wasn’t the same for everyone.

That said, she liked the turian widow fine. When he bothered to talk, he seemed to actually know whatever he was talking about. The grief was so plain on his face though that too often his company only served as an uncomfortable reminder of what she still didn’t have. They were too familiar with each other she thought.

It took about three days for him to say anything about their arrangement. The city was large, but so crushed under its own weight that it was difficult to find resources that couldn’t be claimed by alliance during the war. It was easy to get a list together and send him on his way.

The third day though, he stood there for a moment, looking at the list with a twitch of the mandibles. “You’re very efficient.”

"Comes with a lot of experience. You’re not too bad yourself."

"As much as an errand boy can be."

She laughed and was happy to return to her work on the tower instead. She was just starting to pick up a signal from it. “No offense. Easier to work alone.”

When Kasumi glanced to him from the tower, the widow was playing with the data pad in his hands, turning it this way and that. “Have you always been alone?”

"What, with working?"

"In any context."

"Well. Most everyone has had some company in their time. That’s not really a fair question."

He plopped down beside her, feet dangling over the edge of the building they had it stationed. The thing about towers is that they needed space and height. Of the small street their camp was occupying, it was the most fortified building on the block. Some traces of Alliance left behind, with blocks and plywood forming makeshift steps leading to the roof. The widow’s steps were heavy, and seemed to whine with each step of the plywood.

"It’s important enough that you made me an errand boy just to avoid me."

"I’ve been alone longer than you have. Does it bother you?"

He gave it some thought, hands on his knees, and slightly hunched over, awkwardly so with the hump on his back. Turians were strange ones sometimes; one of the few species she’d yet to really work out. Kasumi wasn’t about to over this sort of company. “Not really. A little confusing is all.”

"I’d leave it at that. You don’t seem like the type to have big heart to hearts with near strangers."

He laughed, something big and loud— deep and almost guttural about it. “I’ll give you that!” And for once, the damn man smiled, or as close as a turian could to smiling as he looked out back toward the camp.

Kasumi was just happy for some quiet. The panel damage was more complicated than she thought, some of the wires missing inside, rarer components. It was an older model, to be sure. She just hoped that the dead gods wouldn’t mess with it once she did get it working. So far luck was on their side at least.

After a minute or so he finally stood, shoulders relaxed for once in the trip. It was a shame that suddenly she felt so much more tense. “She did say I needed to get out more.” He glanced to her, mouth outstretched with more words that didn’t quite reach his platey lips before it finally closed, and he covered it with a cough.

No. Other than that, there wasn’t much remarkable about the third day. The nice thing about working so high up was how much she could watch the others from down below without interruption, not unlike the evenings she would spend in the citadel catwalks as the wards thrived below. In a way, there was power in it, to see and hold secrets that no one wanted her to hold, but there was a sense of serenity in it too. A form of silence and understanding she could never quite describe to someone, not unless they felt it for themselves.

It was only a shame that so few seemed to. For now she merely contented herself in understanding the routines of the others, to know their lives with some intimacy without having to talk to them. It was much easier that way, to give herself less chances to give away the vital information.

The red salarian was usually up first, cigarette placed between his lips as he perched himself on the sidewalk somewhere. It would almost be the perfect image of stoicism if not for the excitement that would show on his face whenever someone came by, usually the hulking krogan that took it upon himself to do a quick search around the perimeter just in case. From there, they would walk off, usually together. They made sure to be back by the evening.

Next was the drell, who sometimes joined her at her roof sanctuary. Rarely she said anything during her visits, other than maybe odd observations at times, some even Kasumi wouldn’t notice. There was something to appreciate about it, though the woman was rather strange.

One morning before, while the drell tried to share some sort of bird that she caught, she pointed out in the street to a familiar sight of the widow with a grin. “He’s helping you right?”

"None of the others seemed too willing."

"You know he comes back during the day to check in, right. Weird though, he only does it with the turian girl. No one else." The chuckle that was vibrating from her throat was much less attractive with the pieces of flesh stuck between her teeth.

"Think they knew each other before this?"

"That or asari might have some competition."

Kasumi hummed. “He seems a little older.”

"How can you tell?"

"Older ones just have a… Thing to them. Like they don’t have enough patience for diplomacy and the mushy stuff."

"Oh. He does seem kinda crabby." She hadn’t stayed long after that, but Kasumi couldn’t help noticing the same thing afterward, how he seemed to be relying on the other turian’s company than she would’ve initially guessed. The drell was good for that sort of thing, but her food choices could make her bad company at times.

The volus would be out next, usually around the same time as the couple, and the three would often catch each other on the way. They chatted, usually rather animatedly, though with the asari much less enthused over it. If anything, it confirmed something she already knew about the woman: she was simply straight combat. Biotics were… Difficult. She never really knew what to do with biotics other than killing them quickly.

Her first blip would come in on the third day. Salarian voice. Somewhere in the old university. It was comforting.

The elcor wasn’t far behind the volus, and she didn’t see but so much hear it’s heavy steps from where she worked. He usually circled the fire a few times in looking for the volus, and greeted most anyone that was still in the camp with the best enthusiasm an elcor could make. The batarian priest was usually close by around that time.

She didn’t know if the priest slept. On the fourth day, when a bit of an asari’s voice would come in, the priest had stopped by to visit her. The harsh shadows of the evening then, chilly and windy from high atop, only seemed to add to his age, which had to have been advanced already. The top two symbols indicated rank. He owned something likely, something big. It was ashes now.

He refused to look at her. “Have you been adjusting well?”

"Easier when there’s something to do."

He sat beside her without invitation, watching for a few moments. The study was benign she knew, but the beady eyes and heavy set frown always set Kasumi’s teeth on edge with the expectation of a strike following. “Did you learn how to do this from the city you grew up in?”

Her hand slipped from the wire she was working on. “No.”

"You’re quite delicate with it."

"You know," and she ducked below the base, if anything just to avoid more looks from the priest, "anyone ever tell you that was a little unnerving? I’m sure you’re real popular with the whole studying habit."

He didn’t seem concerned over that in the slightest, instead turning back to the campsite. “Forgive me then.”

"There’s nothing to say."

"Plenty. The surgery alone must have been painful."

Kasumi paused. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it being put on. “If you’re looking for pity, I’d go elsewhere, priest. I’m not dead.” It was more than her masters could say. His presence lingered however for some time, hours it seemed that stretched into a near eternity of awkwardness. It wasn’t until the widow returned that early afternoon with her materials that he chose to leave.

There was something private about it, nothing that could be explained even under the widow’s quietly questioning eyes. She had merely shrugged it off before getting distracted by the third blip, another salarian, tone more questioning than the last one.

The pilot and Sha’ira were almost always the last ones to leave their tent. She could believe the pilot taking so long, as he seemed to be up longer stretches during the evening than the red salarian, and usually wasn’t going to bed until they were all getting up. However, Sha’ira, she knew from her time watching, wasn’t a late sleeper.

Through the week, it seemed easy to ask, but her visits to the roof hadn’t ever seemed to be about conversation. Kasumi always knew when she was coming, for the quick patter of steps, while delicate, seemed to be a little fragile on the plywood. Maybe out of concern that it would break underneath. Her steps weren’t quiet.

The consort studied with something akin to professional admiration, Kasumi thought. It was inherently interested, and felt sorta familiar with the way she had watched her. A small sort of smile would fall on Sha’ira’s lips, and even though her visits would be short and quiet, she seemed to always walk away as if she learned something new from the visit.

Sha’ira’s visit on the fifth day coincided with the tower coming to life again. It seemed almost impossible, with the way it suddenly spun, and how all at once her ear piece had been filled with static. It seemed to dance for her even, and it was with a sigh of relief that she began searching through the channels.

Something cold pressed against the side of her neck, smooth and so concentrated that it made her jump from the sudden sensation. “Geez!” The laughter escaped Sha’ira then was light, fluttering, and surprisingly honest with it.

"I apologize, but you seemed so focused." There was still a cheeky smile on her when she looked, something a little lighter, a little freer than before as she pulled the bottle away. Almost right away, it was something distinct with its dark color and the chill.

"Beer doesn’t seem your style, Consort."

"Is this really the place for champagne?"

She grinned and took the bottle offered to her, welcoming the slight reprieve it gave. Sha’ira slid into the seat next to her daintily, legs crossed and making the reds and oranges of her dress flow against her calves. Freckles there too, but lighter, barely noticeable. Kasumi wasn’t going to look too hard. “It’s more about a mood anyway,” she provided instead, “And we are celebrating.”

"I suppose if there are anyone to talk to in this city." She opened her bottle, twisting the lid with a quick flick. "…and it would be nice to hear how my mother is doing."

"Is she at Thessia?"

"Thought it would be best to help home first."

"But?"

Sha’ira smiled. “We all have a debt, don’t we? Earth could be a very beautiful place.”

"I almost feel offended."

"It’s not your home either."

That was true. Kasumi made a small noise in response and stared at the swishing liquid. There was some rowdiness below them. The red salarian liked to entertain the others some afternoons, usually with various card games. She couldn’t say she had much experience with salarian ones other than that they were exceedingly complicated and grew more so as the game continued. She spent many hours wondering if she would see blood splatter from the krogan head-butting the poor guy out of frustration.

"He says he knows you. Sal."

"That’s interesting." The name sounded it, but there were plenty that she came across during her time and not nearly enough was in her to care to remember those that didn’t matter. If he was a threat, that was a problem, but a man that spent time every day to confuse the hell out of their group wasn’t really worth it.

“So is it true then? We have a mutual associate?"

That. That gave her pause. "I'm sure we'd have a few with my line of work."

"And what would that be exactly?"

"Consulting."

Sha'ira gave a dubious look. "I hadn't realized a 'consultant' could grab Shepard's attention enough to warrant recommendation to the Crucible-- or the skills to break into my office."

She grimaced. "Why not? We'll always know more than the buyer." It was too much to hope she wouldn't bring that up again. Meeting victims, even non-victims and people that just happened to be there, was always a very awkward experience. But with Sha'ira, it was a very different experience. Just explaining why she walked away then was enough to dig herself a grave first.

"Is it really so important to be obtrusive about it?"

"About as much as your last name, I guess."

The face she made was almost funny, twisted and a little harsh around the edges of her eyes-- nose scrunched up. "I suppose someone was going to ask."

"It's not like it stops your name from being searched."

"And how much of it is on my life before being a consort?"

Kasumi paused. Thought about it while messing with the channels. "You cover your tracks pretty well. I'll give you that."

"Because we both know what it means to keep a secret." She tentatively touched Kasumi's knee, a gentleness that was unfamiliar to her. Already, Kasumi saw how she was testing boundaries with every bit of the action. "There's nothing on 'Izumi Maeda,' other than Commander Shepard. Anyone could guess that was not a real name."

She only smiled. "What do you think then?"

"About you?" Sha'ira seemed to consider it, idly tapping a finger against her thigh. It wasn't unwelcomed, though strange if she didn't remind herself of the consort's touchiness. "You might have more at stake than I do, and that is why you're so careful about it. Scars suggest experience in fighting... the one on the back of your head is interesting."

Naturally, she scratched at the rough patch of skin, trying to hide the scowl forming on her face.

"But I have a feeling you are not... much for authority, are you? Quite independent."

"You're getting warmer. So is the last name embarrassing in asari culture or something?"

"Far from it."

"But unique enough to make you worried."

Sha'ira returned the smile, a glint in her eyes-- something knowing. She slipped somewhere, though she couldn't see the slip. "Far from it. You may not answer to authority, but you are not stupid either. If you wanted to dig more than what I have given you, you would."

She laughed, and turned away just long enough to look at the omni-tool once more, ignoring the way Sha'ira's hand seemed to stretch and splay against her thigh. Innocent, but strangely intimate-- more than what she was used to. The static became a little less then, into something more like a white noise-- pleasant, comfortable. "There's no fun in that. How many people figure you out without digging?"

"No clients, certainly."

"And I'm not?"

The consort tipped the beer to her lips, smiling. "There hasn't been one in a while."

"You were happy with it."

"... Perhaps." The beer didn't seem to settle on her well. It was a brief change in expression, the way Sha'ira's eyes darkened and she seemed to stare hard into the bottle as if it would change if she just wished it long enough. It was obvious that the choice was made for Kasumi's benefit and not hers. "But even the best of our lives can hurt us if we let it."

"Almost poetic, isn't it?"

Sha'ira shook her head, amusement in her eyes. "I can't say I'm surprised you would be familiar with that."

"You sound pretty certain of it."

"We're far from kidding ourselves at this point, wouldn't you agree?

She laughed and was ready to speak again until she picked up a voice from the ear piece. With a crooked smile, Kasumi shushed Sha'ira and showed the channel on her omni-tool. There was the salarian voice again-- smooth and steady now, with a deep, authoritative inflection to it.

"Any sign?"

Another voice answered, lighter than the last-- almost childish. "Nothing but trash. This'd be a lot easier if we had those plans. All we can tell is basically scrap metal."

"There's some signs of others a couple of miles from your point. They don't seem to be making any headway either."

"That's probably us," Kasumi finally spoke into the earpiece, "If you're finding materials, let me know? It took us forever just to repair this damn tower. I'd hate to have to work this long for something else that might break."

Her first sign that something was wrong was the deafening silence that followed, as if there was some great offense committed. She usually didn't feel that sort of awkwardness except for that one time she broke into a person's house during their dinner party. That hadn't ended well for anyone involved. Somehow, she could guess this wouldn't either.

Finally, Mr. Authority broke the curtain of silence, "Who is this?!"

But Kasumi couldn't speak.

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Life’s Little Joys [Yoongi x Reader] 5

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // prev - m.list - next 

Genre: Cute // Fluff // Smut // Angst

Summary: Your life takes an unexpected turn when you realize your period came five days late….

Word Count: 2266

A/N: So it’s been about a month since I’ve last updated this, and it’s been a week since I’ve given new content. I figured that I would come back with a series, then sometime later this week I will continue to plug along on requests that have been given to me. Again, I apologize that some of your requests are taking longer than expected. I will work on them whilst working on getting my other ideas and series further along. I love y’all’s patience and I couldn’t have asked for it any other way. 

Shortly after Namjoon left your office, you were stuck sitting in front of your computer screen once again. You didn’t enjoy being alone, however you had gotten used to it. Since your conversation with your friend was refreshing, it was time to get back into your work. Despite dreading it almost instantly, you were determined to finish whatever was left. Mentioning as such, you quickly did a few things then logged off. 

Meaning you spent another hour an a half in your office, double checking everything, then finally leaving. Only to realize that Yoongi was coming in late once again, thus meaning you had to eat dinner alone. As mentioned previously, you hated being alone. You also hated that Yoongi spent a lot of his time at their studio, but you could fully understand why. He loved what he did and he wanted to continue doing so. You weren’t going to allow your feelings to get in the way of him achieving his goals, as you expected the same from him. 

What Yoongi was doing was a once and a life time thing, so you cheered for him on the sidelines. Since your relationship was in the public, you had to be careful with how you presented yourself. Not only that, but you had to be careful where you went, who you where with, and what you were doing. You could slightly understand the pressures he was under, but you couldn’t fully comprehend it. Instead, you had to give your empathy and listen when he needed it the most. 

Whilst these thoughts clouded your mind, you were making dinner. It was just something simple, because you were going to eat alone once again. However, you had to make double so that you could put his food in the fridge once he arrived home. Yoongi didn’t enjoy eating left over rice and whatever main dish you had, because it wasn’t “fresh”. He loved your cooking and seemed to complain about how he couldn’t eat it when it was ready. 

You often explained his situation once again to him, one of his many annoyances but he understood it came from a good place, and it shut him up in the end. Tonight you decided to make the rice whilst preparing the meat. You wanted to balance the protein and other goodies with your meal since you knew you weren’t eating properly. You also had to make sure that Yoongi was eating properly because of how often he had gotten takeout with the other members. 

It was another joy of being a celebrity and not having enough time. You accepted that he wasn’t going to eat properly and make a conscious effort to give him the proper food he needed. Whilst you were in your own thoughts, you buzzed around the kitchen. Not even noticing that the front door unlocked and your tired boyfriend stumbled in. Yoongi smelt the food from the bottom of the stairs, his eyes lighting as he was excited to finally eat a home cooked meal. 

His stomach growled, hands immediately coming down to rub grumbling tummy. He shifts from his shoes to his slippers, shutting the door and locking it, then proceeding to waddle his way up the stairs. He comes in, your back facing him, and his shoulders instantly dropped. To say he had a rough day was an understatement. Their upcoming album and to produce good music was a huge pressure on them. Yoongi gotten out of a small talk with the other members about possibly disbanding, leaving their spirits low and their hearts heavy. 

Yoongi made his way into the kitchen, his body automatically wanting to curl itself around you. When he comes up behind you, his arms move out, wrap around your waist and pull you in. Of course you were terrified, because you didn’t know who the hell was behind you. When you heard his little grumble, and felt his mask against your neck, you instantly relaxed. 

“Tough day?” You pondered grabbing your chop sticks and moving the fried steak. Yoongi didn’t respond, leaving you to assume that it was a rough day for him. Reaching out, you grabbed the lid, moving it over the pan. Then attempted to take a step back, Yoongi moving with you. Turning around, you brought your hands up to his cheeks, pushing his mask down. Then proceeding to fix his beanie because it was a little wonky. 

“We discussed about disbanding.” Yoongi whispers, your heart dropping in your chest. He could see your reaction, his eyes falling and head moving in. He rests his forehead against yours, hands squeezing your waist tightly. “The pressure has seemed to become more than we thought..” pausing for a second only to pull you close in. 

“I’ve noticed that it has become as such.” putting your two cents in, your hands moving up and down to sooth him. Yoongi welcomed your touch, finding it comforting as he yearned for it the entire day. 

“Hobi started crying with Jimin, and it was hard to see them in such pain.” he moves his head back, you noticing the tears being to weld. Shakily, you bring your hand up to try to wipe his tears away. Your expression softening as you saw your boyfriend cry once again. Seeing it up close was heart breaking because you had gotten so used to his cheery and up beat side. Yes, Yoongi had gone through so much and you had seen him cry multiple times. Yet every single time was harder than the last. 

“But what was the collective decision?” As you wanted to know what was going on so that you could prepare for the future. Yoongi bit the inside of his lip, his head turning to the side. It only made you think of the worst possible outcome, however, his actions were only because he was trying to find the right words. 

“We are going to take a little vacation.” You let out a puff of air through your noise, Yoongi’s eyebrow arching. Your reaction instantly killed the mood and Yoongi wasn’t surprised. 

“Are you actually going to take a vacation Yoongs?” You ponder taking a step back to place your hands on your hips. “Because the last time you all came to that decision, you continued to work through your vacation.” You scold Yoongi’s eyes lighting for a second. One of the many reasons Yoongi loved being around you, was because you could instantly cheer him up. 

You could make a heavy situation feel weightless with the snap of your fingers. You made him feel instantly forget about any worries he had and he was thankful for such. Yoongi brought his hands forwards, taking yours in his. He brings them up, placing small kisses on your knuckles. 

His lips were soft, his kiss was tender. His hands were rough, and his body language was soft. “Yes, I’m actually going to take a vacation because you’re coming with.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

How you ended up in Cancun, Mexico with your boyfriend and six of his friends was a mystery to you. Since You and Namjoon were the only two fluent in English, it made getting around Cancun a little easier than normal. This was a vacation not provided by their company, but by themselves. They wanted to get out of Korea for a little, and this is were they collectively decided to go. Since it was during the winter months, it wasn’t as hot as they had expected. 

Yes, it did get chilly, but it was the perfect temperature for each of them to relax in. With that being said, you had to try to get Yoongi out and about during their vacation. He liked to cope himself up in their hotel, because he didn’t like to move around all the time. It was also because he was sleeping and more than likely secretively working. Since you were on this trip with them, you were going to get him out of his comfort zone. 

“Ah it’s so hot.” Jin complains grabbing his sun hat and waving it. Collectively, you all were used to the chilly winter of Korea. So coming to Cancun were it certainly was above ten degrees Fahrenheit, was going to be a change. Jungkook moved himself in front of everyone, opening his arms wide and basking in the sun. 

Yoongi made the mistake of wearing all black, so he was dying from the heat. Namjoon was speaking to you about where the rentals were and trying to figure out where the air b and b was. Jimin seemed to be preoccupied with Hoseok and Taehyung, and finally Jin was trying to find shade. Jungkook seemed to be enjoying himself, but that was only because they had finally gotten off the plane. He could stretch his long giraffe legs, which caused him to smile. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls moving quickly over towards you and Namjoon. “Can we get something to eat?” 

“Didn’t you just eat on the plane?” You point out, Jungkook turning to look at you and shrug his shoulders. He was still a growing boy, and you weren’t surprised that he was just as hungry as he had claimed to be. You took in a deep sigh, turning your attention towards Namjoon. He seemed to want to go to their air b and b first, but Jungkook wasn’t going to wait that long. 

“We could just go to the store and pick stuff up,” Yoongi suggests from behind. Jin over hearing the conversation and seconding his motion. He continues to flap his hat, trying to cool himself off in the process. Since Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin were in their little world, they didn’t pay much attention. It seemed like they were having a separate conversation about Cancun, but you didn’t want to bother them. 

“First let’s get in the two cars,” Namjoon decides. “Then, go grab something to eat before heading back. Just like we did in Malta.” he points out you remembering that trip all to well. Yoongi had to come back earlier than expected, surprising you, but you knew the reason behind it. You liked his reasoning and grabbed the keys. Tossing one to Jin, then getting Hoseok’s attention. You tossed the other to him, then marched out to find the two cars. 

Your vacation was just beginning and it already was in a small bundle of chaos, but would you have it any other way? 

No. 

»»————-　★　————-««

After watching all seven of them stuff their mouths with tacos, rice, and other delicious food, you all headed out to find the air b and b. Since most of the streets were in Spanish, you had to use a translator to figure out where you were going. It was great that if you got lost, there would be someone that could potentially speak English. So it wasn’t so bad that you were in Cancun. Plus, you assumed since it was a popular destination spot, that most of the residents could speak English. 

You arrived at your destination. The house was beautiful cream color on the outside. Only seeing pictures online, it was nothing compared to seeing it in person. You were the first to step in, after getting the password and moving inwards. The first room was massive, stretching from the front to the end were a massive pool was outside. To the left and right were different hallways connecting to different parts of the house. 

The right connected to several different rooms, most of which the boys would choose were to stay. The left connected to the kitchen and other rooms you were destined to check out later. There was a second floor to the house, which more bedrooms and other rooms were provided. Once inside, you took a deep breath in and out because the air conditioner was working perfectly. You couldn’t be more happy with cooling off, but it seemed like the boys had different plans. 

Yoongi immediately took your hand to go find a room. You noticed that he was tired and wanted someone to cuddle with. You being the top contender, so you weren’t complaining when he dragged you off. You watched as Jungkook stripped his shirt off and moved to the other side of the house. His destination was the pool, and you understood why. It seemed like Jimin and Taehyung wanted to explore the place, Namjoon wanted to join Jungkook and now Hoseok, and Jin had the same idea as Yoongi. 

He dragged you up the stairs and towards one of the bigger rooms. Completely forgetting your luggage at the bottom because he wanted to just lie down. Opening the door, Yoongi didn’t hesitate to flop down on the bed, bringing you along with him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body close to his, and resting his head in between your shoulder and neck. 

There he closes his eyes, attempting to fall asleep. Only to then be plagued with dirty thoughts. You were on top of him, and you were pressing against him. He wasn’t going to deny his arousal. You felt him and you let out a breathy laugh. You moved yourself up, planting both hands in between his head. Your eyes darkened for a second, then you shook your head. 

“Can’t even wait one single night,” you teased Yoongi’s gummy smile making an appearance. 

“Can you blame me?” He ponders leaning in and giving you a tender yet soon to turn lustful kiss. 

To silently answer his question..no..no you couldn’t blame him. 

[harryhighkey]

netflix cheating

hiii my very first imagine on this account (i had a 1d account a v long time ago where i posted some other writings and stuff but we don’t talk about her) hopefully u like this!!!!!!!!! idk netflix has just had so many good shows drop recently and i felt a lil inspired!

have an idea for a part 2 of this, so if u like this and want the second part let me know :~)

happy reading 

__________________________________________________

Are you still watching?

The dreaded pop up message had appeared before your eyes on the large television mounted on the wall.

Fuck. You cursed inwardly, you had just watched more than half the season of the new Sabrina series on Netflix. Usually that would be fine, considering you didn’t have anything that important to do today, except it wasn’t fine as you and Harry had planned to watch it together.

“Holy shit.” You cursed out loud this time when you picked up your phone and looked at the time. The hours had vanished and you groaned out loud before hoisting yourself up from the ultimate slouched position you had fallen into.

Being a binge-watcher was no new concept to you. You loved your television series and every character you got to know so well. But, god, this couch-potato habit had only increased after Harry gifted you a lounge that felt like you were sitting on a literal cloud and the massive television he had spent all day setting up in your little living room.

“Harry... this is too much.” You never expected extravagant presents from him, you never wanted him to think you were with him for what he had in his bank account.

“The polite thing is to just say thank you.” He smiled over his shoulder at you and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a mirroring smile.

“Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome.” He had that cocky expression and you shook your head with a quick laugh. Fuck, he made you so happy. “Take a seat on the couch, ‘s real comfy.”

“Don’t want me to wait for you?”

“Gotta finish putting the tele’ up.”

“Ah, so we won’t actually be sitting on the couch for a good week.”

“Hey, now. You can’t rush perfection, Y/N.”

You smiled at the memory from only over a month ago, your eyes going to the free space beside you on the massive couch and remembering the very physical and intimate way you had shown your gratitude of the new gift. Something about the way he had a screwdriver sticking out the back pocket of his black skinny jeans really turned you on. And of course, Harry making a joke about christening the couch which quickly became less of a joke as the two of you did more than just christen that couch. Multiple times.

Just as if the Greek Goddess Aphrodite was watching over you, wanting you to indulge in the pleasure you were sinking into after remembering that heated night with Harry, there was that knock on your apartment door you knew was going to be your boyfriend.

Excitement bubbled in your stomach as you dashed to open the door. “Hey.” Unintentionally, your voice was lower, slower, more sensual, there was no hiding what you were feeling. Your eyes were a little hooded and as soon as you had opened the door and spotted Harry, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

As soon as he noticed your very alluring mood, he knew exactly how you were feeling and instantly his own excitement began to increase. “You alright, Y/N?” His voice had that deep tone you loved hearing in your ear just as you were about to climax and fuck, did you want him right there and then.

Harry was very aware of that fact as he lifted his arm in order to simply drag just one of his fingertips down the side of your face, he could see how needy you were, and you knew he was going to drag this out. Which you both loved and hated the idea of.

When his finger paused on your neck, he then just barely cupped his hand around the base of your neck. “Didn’t hear me?” His tone was slightly dominant then and your eyes snapped open wide as you met his heavy gaze, your lips were just barely parted in thrill for what else was to come if this was how he was acting already.

“Um.. Yeah, I’m alright.” You found your voice again as you stepped back, noting that the two of you were still stood in the open door way.

As Harry entered and closed the door behind him, he did a quick scan of your living area to try and get a hint of what had put you in this mood. That is until, something else got his attention.

“What were you watching?” He questioned as he spotted the Are you still watching? Screen on your television.

This puzzled you, because you knew he had just had a complete shift in mood. The question wasn’t playful, as if he was anticipating an answer of something like Fifty Shades of Grey. He turned to look back at you and you looked away. The flip of the emotion wasn’t what you were hoping for. You were hoping he’d stroll in and fuck you against the wall right beside your front door and for a moment you thought he would. How quickly that dream crashed down. You didn’t want to answer this time, you felt guilt that you hadn’t waited for him. He was sensitive, and you knew little things like this got to him.

“Y/N?” He pressed on, and a part of you guessed he had already switched on.

“Just rewatching Queer Eye.” A quick shrug of your shoulders paired with a smile wasn’t enough for him and when you saw him take a step closer to the couch you matched his movement, reaching for the remote but his longer reach got to it first.

Your vision stayed trained on the television as you heard the remote click and the screen changed to the episode listing of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. Last night, only two of the episodes had been fully watched by you and Harry. But now, seven of the episodes were watched.

“Fucking hell.” Harry muttered and you looked at him then, seeing his jaw locked tight and his face set in a frown. You figured he would’ve been annoyed but it would quickly become something the two of you could have laughed off. Now you weren’t so sure.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologised and moved an inch closer to him. You had anticipated him to sigh and turn towards you and tell you it was okay. Instead, you got the opposite.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Y/N.” He kept his gaze locked on the television and you couldn’t help but to frown at his response.

“Harry, it’s fine. You know I love to watch things over and over, anyway. I’ll rewatch them all with you.”

“We were meant to watch them together.”

“We still can.”

“No we fucking can’t!” His voice raised as he finally met your eye sight. Both of your expressions challenging each other.

“Why are you so angry at me?! Netflix is right there, we can watch it right now.”

“I don’t want to watch it with you now.”

“Oh my god, you’re being so immature.” You verbally groaned and brought your hands up to rub over your face out of frustration. Although, upon hearing the remote being thrown against the couch followed by Harry movements, you were alert once more. “Where are you going?!” You swiftly moved to stand in front of your boyfriend, but once you were this close to his face, you realised just how angered he looked. “Hey.. what’s wrong?” An attempt to comfort him by trying to caress his cheek was cut short as he batted your hand away and glared back at you.

“You.”

“What?”

“You’re what’s wrong.” He snapped and you became defensive.

“Harry, I said I was sorry. It’s only a show-”

“It’s not about the fucking show, Y/N.” He admitted and with a mix of feeling guilty at the situation and not knowing what you had done to warrant this out burst, you began to feel your own anger growing in retaliation.

“You know, you’re being a fucking dick right now.”

“Coming from how much you wanted my dick when I walked in here, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He quipped back. He was stubborn, you were stubborn and when both of you were caught in this vague frustration, nothing was going to be solved.

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” You weren’t expecting him to head for the front door, but that’s exactly what he did.

“Why are you leaving?!” You yelled that time but it was more out of desperation than anger at this point.

He didn’t bother to turn back to you when he responded, his hand remaining on your door handle. “Jus’ sick of you letting me down all the time.”

Harry’s answer cut rigidly into your heart and you couldn’t find the proper words to respond with in time as he disappeared from out the door he had entered through before. Your mind was racing a million miles a second to try and think of what you could have possibly done - or not done.

You were drawing a blank, had you forgotten something? This couldn’t all of been over a TV show, it had to have just been the final fatal drop that was enough for Harry to crack.

Even as the hours of the night trickled on and you lay in bed wide awake, you still could not think of what else had happened. The few calls you attempted to make to Harry were left unanswered and as you signed and opened up the Netflix app on your phone to find something to watch to try and help you sleep. That fucking Sabrina show was the first title in your continue watching and suddenly, Netflix was the last thing you wanted to do.

ps, here's part two!