#thank you to anyone reading this with an open mind

[jinxvex]

omg haiii :3 #1 i just found your account and i love your works! the way you write is just… mwahmwahmwah. besides that! i’d love it if u could do a jinx x reader where reader is lowkey oblivious but jinx is super obvious with how much she wants to fuck… and when she finally gets to hit she degrades and dumbifies reader… orrrr am i just thirsty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

�� fantasy. ♱

oh girl this is sexy trust, WE IS THIRSTY TEW!! also thank you, you’re so sweet!! i’m glad you enjoy my works :))

syp. the first time jinx set her glowy shimmer-charged eyes on you, she knew she had to have you—and she always gets what she wants. no matter that you were friends and you were oblivious to her constantly undressing you with her eyes, fighting her urges to completely ruin, defile, and destroy you. you’d come to realize soon enough.

cw: nsfw content!!, dom!jinx plotting on that p***y (lol), sub!reader (i'm a switch!jinx truther but let me cook...), a lot of degrading + dumbification, cursing, dirty talk, some praise, teasing, mocking, she forces you to take it!!, mentions of oral/fingering/gun-play, strap-on sex, hair-pulling, pet names (toots, hon, babe, baby, bunny, etc?), possessiveness, nastiness galore (lord forgive me!), reader’s past sex life is purposefully written to be vague, + prob more

wc: 4.2k!!

jinx’s fantasies involving you started a month ago when she was off roaming the rowdy streets of the undercity for a market sale. well, before it. she had begrudgingly taken up silco’s orders to keep tabs on the shipment coming in and out before the market opened to the public. for what? ‘who freakin’ knows?!’ she thought.

in retrospect, jinx was never an overly sexual person. she understood what it was, why people participated in it, and her own sexual preferences but she’d never devoted much time to finding someone to fuck or to fuck her for that matter. she's fucked before, but that was it. plunging her long, slender fingers into her own cunt while reading a racy scene in a shitty romance novel was enough to get her rocks off. she figured something was missing but she brushed it off.

her mind was… elsewhere most of the time.

(a month ago...)

lost in her thoughts, per usual, jinx doesn’t see you standing in all your beautiful glory. she walks right past you, eyes darting along everything she can see to accurately take in the information silco wants her to report back to him. she's still preoccupied with the inner workings of her mind and not too much with the zaunite public.

well, that's bound to change one way or another.

suddenly, she's stopping dead in her tracks. something's changed. the air feels charged, full of opportunity and something else. curly lines, shapes, and colorful graphics fill her vision—overwhelming but she feels as though she can really see clearly for the first time.

her nostrils catch a whiff of something… sweet. inviting. like freshly baked cookies although it's almost incomparable to how truly delectable the scent is. she's taken by surprise at the smell of something so good, good enough to eat, to devour. she’s never smelt anything or anyone so delicious. it intrigued her beyond belief, she knew that whatever it was, she was going to have that thing.

that’s when in her own self-induced frenzy she'd caused by frantically turning and thrashing around to look for where the smell led her, she sees you for the first time. as radiant as ever.

everything's in slow motion.

you're leaning up against a metal post and speaking to a market vendor, your voice as sweet as ever chatting to them about ‘who the fuck cares’. your smile is the brightest she’d ever seen living in a place full of drug addicts, violence, and poverty like you’ve never been subjected to zaun in your entire life.

she watches as you flip your hair to one side, hips swaying and fingers twiddling against your satchel. she watches you so intently, that she can see your eyes blinking slowly, she can count your individual eyelashes and remember the number for the rest of her life.

to say the least, jinx is enamored by the sight of you, let alone your smell. images of how good you'd look naked, and what your skin would feel like against hers cloud her vision, creating the perfect first impression of you in her mind. she looks further at you, specifically your ass and the jeans hugging it perfectly as well as the curve of your hips. the veins in your neck travel further down beneath your shirt and she can't help but wonder what your chest would look like.

bare.

before this moment, she'd never thought of somebody in such a vulgar light; it put her in a state of shock. she let her mind wander even farther off into jinx-landia and she imagines what it would feel like to slide her fingers into your pussy and press the pads of them onto your g-spot. she wants to know what it feels like to feel you get wetter and wetter and what it feels like to make out with your pussy—to push your own juices into your mouth and kiss you dumb. she thinks about testing how deep your cunt could get—how pretty your ass would look riding a cock, tits bouncing in the air.

controlling herself was something jinx always had problems with, so she isn't surprised when she is unable to stop herself from approaching you. her feet seem to be dragging themselves towards you like some sort of magnetic force.

“hiya, toots,” spills from her lips before she can even stop and think about what she's doing.

you pause your conversation with whomever you're speaking to, looking over in her direction to find her staring intently at you. confused and a little petrified, you stand up straighter, as you aren't expecting silco’s adoptive daughter to be staring you down at the beginning of some random ass tuesday morning.

“uhm, hey,” you respond, sounding more like a question rather than a greeting in return.

‘this is gonna be so much fun,’ jinx’s eyes light up and she lets her lips curl up in a friendly smirk, running through ways in her mind how exactly she’d ruin your body, mark you up, and claim you for herself.

because no matter what, nobody else is ever getting a piece of you now that she's sought you out.

no fuckin’ way.

…

somewhere in the present, there’s an idea—a certain narrative established between you and jinx.

you’re friends. good ones.

you don't know what else would explain the obvious liking jinx has taken to you. what else would explain the way she’s always touching you, looking after you, and asking you personal questions? questions so personal they have your eyes widening and gripping the edges of your clothes.

"have you ever, y'know, done it before? had sex?"

"what sorta stuff you into? like, sex stuff."

"you ever touch yourself? what feels the best? just trying to see if i could learn somethin' interesting for myself."

you never answer, often opting to lower your head in silence. how could you? it was wildly inappropriate and quite frankly, jinx made you shy. maybe it's because she's so pretty, and bold, and has a waist so small and touchable that you just want to-

no! 'why does she care so much?' you ask yourself frequently. no friend has ever been so crass...

duh! she gives a shit because she wants to fuck your brains out 'n then maybe cuddle you a bit! but you don't know that...

jinx follows you around too, insisting you need protecting since "you're too pretty 'n perfect" to not have protection.

one day, she started walking you to your god-awful job and never stopped. her excuse was, "can't have anyone takin' advantage of ya so early in the morning, princess. janna knows they'd try with a face 'n a body like that...whew", she whistled to herself.

needless to say, she kept your life interesting. she always seems to find you, no matter where you are. like she can sense your presence anywhere. you figure she doesn't have many people to talk to, everyone's scared of her being silco's daughter and all. but, you don't have anyone either; no parents or friends. no girlfriend.

well that makes two of you. sort of.

you both are currently smushed together on her sofa in her hideout making bracelets—snacks, craft supplies, and sleepover galore surrounding you. earlier on in the day, jinx had swung by your apartment (how she found out where you lived, you had no clue) and invited you over for a sleepover for the first time. you were surprised she was trusting you enough to let you see where she retreats at night and where she spends most of her time eating, sleeping, plotting; scheming.

she has a knack for making you feel special; like it’s just you two in the world and nothing else matters.

she makes you feel alive.

you’re shaken out of your thoughts by a grinning jinx. yes, physically shaken. both of her palms are placed on your shoulders, gripping them tight and looking into your eyes almost as a way to silently ask if you’re having as much fun as her. heat transfers from her usually cold hands to your skin which has you internally reeling. you’re wearing a tank top, comfortable enough with her to show a little something extra, “whatcha thinkin’ about, hon?”

you smile back at her, “nothing.”

you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your chest for a split second but you ignore it. her eyes move quick due to the shimmer, ‘you’re seeing shit, girl’ claims the angel on your shoulder.

“hmm, you’re lying.”

“am not!” you counter.

“are too,” she doubles back.

“whatever.” you finalize, emphasizing the ‘ever’. you’re not interested in arguing with her any further or giving her the satisfaction of proving her right.

you focus on the friendship bracelet you’re creating for her, determined to make it as pretty as you can for her. you want her to wear it—like it. love it, even. it fills you with a sick satisfaction knowing that soon you’d be wearing each other's creations, way more than it would if you just saw her as a friend. you see her pause her movements out of the corner of your eye but you keep going.

the faint sound of her own bracelet dropping to the couch cushion causes your head to rise up, looking at her in slight confusion. you’re not shocked to realize that she’s already looking at you.

“’m bored,” jinx replies blankly, pouting cutely.

“and grass is green. what else is new? you’re always bored, girl,” you playfully nudge her arm.

“well… grass has more of a grey hue down here so-“

the funny but slightly depressing joke nearly flew over your head but the knowing smirk on her face clued you in on her shenanigans.

you gasp in disbelief and nudge her arm a little harder now, fighting to stifle your laugh under your breath, “ha ha. very funny.”

“yeah, toots. i’m extremely hilarious,” she holds her head up high and crosses her arms above her chest.

she pauses, “let’s play somethin’.

she faces you fully now, right knee switching from resting next to your left to mirroring both of your knees, parallel to you. she scoots closer, and by now you know her calculating personality. you know that whatever she’s up to, has to be mischievous.

“ever hear of truth or dare?”

you roll your eyes, “of course i have!”

“then, you know the rules… right?”

“yes, jinx. i know how to play,” you rebuttal.

maybe you should’ve known her attention span wouldn’t last long while bracelet making. even if the speaker blared her favorite music at her gadget station, filling the space with a comfortable ambiance.

she smiles widely, “then let’s fuckin’ play!

“it’ll be so. much. fun,” she gets closer to your face with each word to emphasize her point, biting her lip and giving you intense eye contact. sexually charged eye contact. but again, you don't realize.

“fine. fine! but you’re going first. you're better at this sorta thing.”

she leans back to give you more space, just enough space to where it's socially acceptable to still be incredibly close to your friend. she's clapping her manicured hands together as her smile grows bigger and her shoulders tense with excitement.

"truth or dare?!" she asks in a televised over-dramatic fashion.

"truth."

'too easy' she thought. although, 'this is good,' her thoughts linger further. she figures she should start you off easy.

jinx has now stopped her clapping to put a finger on her chin in a thinking motion, obviously pretending to conjure up an interesting question that she's probably already picked out in her head.

"hmm...have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asks confidently, putting emphasis on the 'boy' part of "boyfriend" in a mocking manner; like how a sibling or family member would tease you about a crush.

your eyes widen, already caught off-guard by her first question.

"uhm... no. i-i don't really like boys like that."

she licks her lower lip and smiles once again, unbeknownst to you because you've just confirmed that she actually has a chance to win you over. although, she had her suspicions when she first met you.

"ever had a girlfriend?" she questions further, a serious, eerie edge to her voice appearing at the thought of you ever even romantically touching another girl. hell, in any way, shape, or form.

blinking rapidly, you shut her down quickly, "what, no! never really got the… chance to."

initially, you were going to tease her by mentioning that she was only allowed to ask one question but, you couldn't help but shake the feeling that she wasn't going down without an answer from you.

"awesome, good to know! your turn."

"okay. truth or da-"

"dare," she cuts you off delightedly.

you file through your mind to give her something entertaining to do but you find absolutely nothing, your mind blank like always the very moment you get around her. jinx makes you feel like you don't have to live your life thinking so hard. it's peaceful.

"damn, you are bad at this game," she snorts.

"hey, i can't help it. you've gotta help me here."

she raises a brow, "i mean, you could ask me t'do basically anything. y'know i'd do it," she slowly cocks her head to the side, still gazing deep into your irises. her braids follow the movement of her head.

"make it nasty."

"what the hell am i supposed to do? tell you to take off your clothes?!"

she doesn't waver, "yeah. yeah, that's a good one. do it."

you gulp, throat now dryer than ever and your fingers hurt from tightly grasping the fabric of your sleep shorts, 'here goes nothing.'

"u-uh... i dare you to t-take off your shirt," you order weakly.

jinx doesn't even let you finish your sentence before she's crossing her arms in front of her to tug the tiny, thin tank top off of her body, you follow her hands and you watch her chuck it on the floor carelessly. you look back up at her only to realize that,

she isn’t fucking wearing a bra.

you gasp in shock and secret arousal, eyes darting to the spot below you as you avoid looking at her soft, perky chest any longer, not wanting to over-step or make her uncomfortable.

"hey, you're startin' to hurt my feelings, babe. gave you that idea for a reason. makes shit more... interesting."

you look up to meet her eyes and for the nth time, you see her staring right back at you, gaze charged with something more than usual. you may have been oblivious, but you weren't dumb, something was definitely going on here. something that friends shouldn't do alone.

but you can't stop. it's turning you on.

the game continues on for many rounds after that, you and jinx switching back and forth from truth and dare, learning more and more about each other as time passes by. you start to get the hang of her outlandish questions, answering them shyly but not as reluctant as before. something you'd never get used to was the hypnotizing way her tits bounced with each slight movement, entrancing you. you learn that she's had sex once before and that she likes rope play and getting her hair pulled.

she also mentions other personal traits of hers that make your head spin, "y'know when i get wet, i get reeeally wet. like water wet."

needless to say, you know more than you should. she seemed to not mind telling you these things either, almost excited to clue you in.

"truth or dare, baby?"

"truth," you choose once more, the pet name affecting your better judgment and the seductive tinge to her voice causing the wetness already present in your underwear to leak through to your shorts.

jinx doesn't attempt to pretend to think of a question, "tell me, toots. what turns you on? what gets ya goin'?"

"what do you mean? like some sort of a kink?"

"yeah, like a kink."

embarrassment falls over your face like a dam breaking. you have to lie. this was getting too up close and personal for your own good and the only thing that could save what's left of your dignity is a lie.

"i-i don't know..."

so much for a lie.

her unhappiness with your answer is expressed when you see her narrowing her eyes at you. she leans in close, nose brushing yours and you can feel her warm breath on your face, "i know you're lying," she says real sing-songy-like. she's teasing you, and enjoying it.

her slender finger points in your face, “no fair! showed you my tits, toots! play by the rules."

"okay! okay! god, this is so fucking embarrassing-"

"c'mon..," she urges you on, eager to learn more about your sexual side and what takes you cream. she desired to know what made your pussy wet before she stuffed you full. but again, you don't know that.

"i-um. i read something onc-,”

she cuts you off once again, “don’t got all day!”

you sigh, “okay! i like getting called names. mean ones,” you blurt out quickly—sick of her antics.

“and i think i like it…rougher?”

her seemingly continuous stare falters for a split second before a bubbly laugh escapes her throat, smiling bigger and better than she has all day.

“oh, yeah? you like it… rough? you like getting treated like you’re nothin’?” she laughs out incredulously and somehow she’s gotten closer to you, lips almost close enough to graze yours.

“jinx… i- what are you-“

“what if we… played somethin’ else? somethin’ a little more worth our while.”

she figures, ‘ay, i’ve waited long enough…i need her'.

“like what?” you inquire even though you're no longer oblivious, catching on to what she means by “somethin’ else.” you feign innocence.

you feel a calculating hand travel up your leg, they’re slightly sweaty and cold which makes a shiver crawl down your spine. your chest visibly quickens, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes glossy with desire. jinx, still maintaining eye contact with you, remains calm although internally jumping for joy as she's finally got you where she wanted you the moment she laid eyes on you.

"how wet are ya right now, toots? you look like you're 'bout to cream your fuckin' pants!"

you audibly gasp, and she continues,

"i bet you're just drippin' down there... this whole time i've been sittin' here thinkin' you're being tortured answering all my questions, but, the entire time you've been gettin' off to it, haven't ya?!"

a single tear gathers in your eye out of complete and utter embarrassment. despite that, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fucking love it.

her hand stops at the edge of your top, fiddling softly with it, "you can tell me to stop, baby! but, i have a feeling you don't want that," she whispers against your lips. you feel her tug the bottom of your tank top tighter, balling it in her clammy fist.

"dont! d-dont stop."

and just like that, a switch flips in her head. she's grabbing the back of your neck and smushing her lips against yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that has your lips aching. as soon as you feel her tongue attempt to break into your mouth, you let her in.

you initially jump in surprise but quickly sink into the kiss once you get used to the overwhelming contrast between her cold hands clutching your waist and her warm lips pressed on your lips. soon, she's basically drooling into your mouth, tongue trailing over every detail of the inside of your mouth as if she's trying to memorize the space. it's disgusting, really. but, it makes your cunt sloppy.

jinx breaks the kiss to pull your top over your head. she throws it on top of hers. the same one she abandoned long ago at the start of the game. it creates a small heap on the floor of her cozy abode.

"fuckin' whore," she laughs.

you moan, biting your lip softly as a seductive tactic to keep her kissing you.

"wooow!!" she drags out humorously, pressing her hand against your throat and tightening slowly with each word that comes out of her mouth, "you really are a slut. you like when i'm mean, slut?"

you nod, words seemingly impossible to form at this point.

she tightens her hold on you, bringing your neck closer so her mouth resides next to your ear, "if you don't speak up, i'm gonna make it hurt. 's gonna hurt so bad, bunny. gonna torture you. ‘n i know it’s our first time and all! don’t wanna have to scare ya just yet!"

unable to stop rambling, she continues, "hmm... maybe i'll shove the biggest fucking cock i have into your tight cunt... no prep! betcha you'd take it so well. hell, you'd probably like it! you're nasty like that."

"maybe i'll stuff my gun in there...with the bullets inside."

"please, jinx. fuck me.”

she just smiles, “i thought you’d never ask.”

…

you swear you see your life flash before your eyes because of how hard jinx is pounding your poor, abused cunt into the couch cushion. she has you face down—ass up with your hands held together behind your back by her own hands. your face rests on the couch arm, halfway visible to her so she can marvel at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and crossing achingly.

her own eyes roll at the sight of you in such a lewd state, “fuck, toots! you’re takin’ this cock so good. suckin’ me in your pussy like a good little cockslut. mmph. jus' swallowing it whole, fuck!!"

her pace is fast but calculated; and planned. as always. she’s roughly rolling her hips into yours to produce the addictive whore-ish moans to spill from your mouth. she’s also focused on watching her cock disappear in you, your cunt swallowing her cock like it was supposed to be there. the open space is filled with creamy cunt sounds and skin-slapping noises.

“holy fuckin’ shit, hear that? ya hear that pussy creaming ‘round my dick? she’s talkin’ to me, baby!”

you speak, remembering her resentment towards you not responding to her, “y-yes! i-i do, jinxie.”

“yeah?! you think she’s tryin’ to tell me how much she loves me? how much she loves when i split her open on my dick?” she reaches below your stomach to slap at your clit right where the balls on the faux cock meet your skin and you shudder in pleasure.

“fucking love your dick, ‘s so good, s-shit!”

it’s like her mouth won’t stop. she’s relentless—bullying you with her words as well as her cock. jinx pulls you up by your hair so your upper body mirrors hers. she slows her pace to thrust deeper and harder in you, damn near knocking the wind out of you. that causes to you choke on your breath, and your mouth is open as far as it can go.

“h-hah! aww… ‘s just sooo good, isn’t it?"

"see what happens when you’re good for me? good lil’ whores get good dick, ‘n i love givin’ it to ya, hon.”

you’re uncontrollably moaning, voice echoing loudly as you beg her for more—to wreck you.

“more! m-more please!”

“more?!“ she removes her hand from your head to dig her nails into your hips so she can get deeper, so she can open you up.

“you. want. fuckin’. more?!” she slams into your pussy with each word.

your pussy is drooling with your arousal and the shared sweat between you and jinx. you can feel it squelching down your legs with every thrust and throaty laugh she lets out at your pathetic form.

“god, you should see yourself. such’a perfect slut.”

with every word you feel your pussy quiver, getting closer and closer to cumming around her cock. when you curl your toes and inch off of her to prevent yourself from orgasming a whopping 3 minutes in she’s not having it, quickening her pace but keeping her almost-painful thrusts deep.

“nope! gonna take it all. ya asked for it, toots! you begged me to stick my dick in you. so take all of it.”

“b-but ‘m gonna cum! don't wanna yet! oh my god, p-please!!” you beg her for the slightest bit of mercy.

uncaring, she leans down next to the side of your head, lowering her voice, “you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘n you’re gonna cum telling me whose pussy this is. who’s is it, babe?”

“who’s feedin’ this cunt good dick?!”

“you, you! only you.”

“yeah, ‘s me. cum, toots. soak me—get me wet.”

and that was it, “fuck! ‘m cumming!”

you release a soul-crushing moan and triggered by your sudden high, you grip the edges of the couch arm and fuck your ass back on her to deepen her thrusts if that’s even possible. wetness squirts from your cunt and everywhere around you, soaking the entire space below you including jinx’s lower half. the last thing you remember before you pass the fuck out is the hazy, content look on her face and incoherent mumbles that probably consisted of,

“that was way better than a fuckin’ fantasy.”

…

PLEASE TAKE THIS FOOD WHILE I WORK ON MY SEV REQS!!🙏🏽🫣...

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

The young assassin boy could take just about any punch, hit, kick, test, or even fall. Anything you could name he could probably take it.

But the one thing Killua Zoldyck couldn't ever possibly take was you ignoring him.....

How he was raised had definitely deterred him from the rest. But you saw him. You saw him through the flaws. And throughout the trails you stayed by him.

And by default you had meant everything to the strong headed boy.

That's exactly why he can't bear it even for a second when you ignore him.

You know this and yet you've been cold and distant for weeks now.

He fears the worst.

Sure Killua's body is strong. Being covered with muscles from head to toe. And his mind is as sharp as ever....

But your not hurting his mind or body... your hurtng his heart.

His heart is small and tender something that he doesn't wear on his sleeve ,like some do.

He doesn't bare it to open eyes or give to just anyone.

No, to be one of the few people in his already small heart you have to be very special.

And you are. Your the most special person in killuas eyes.

So why can't you look at him?

You see from the conner of your eye how he sits down beside you. Copying your motion with looking up at the stars.

The nights beautiful and with your warm sweater you don't even feel the chilly breeze of the night.

His dark ocean eyes stare into your side profile taking you in.

He knows why your angry. He knows that you hate it when he kills. That he had promised you that he would never kill agian. But unfortunately he had broken that promise.

"I'm sorry." He whispers his eyes not daring to look away from you. And his heart breaks with how you don't even turn to acknowledge him.

"I told you...I don't date killers." You say your voice now holding a cold tone he's never wanted to be directed at him.

He hates himself, he truly does ,and he's never been one to care about what others think..

But he never wanted for you to hate him.

If only you had known the reason why had killed....

"I'm not a killer.." He states and before he had met you he'd never deny that he wasn't a killer because he was..

But as he met you and your constant reassurence that he was no killer had made him believe what you said was true.

That he wasn't no killer.....atleast Not in your eyes and to him that was enough.

And his eyes brim with tears that not even the strongest punch could bring out.

Your angry he understands that and but it's not like he enjoys killing atleast not anymore.

The zoldyck family had smiled when killua had killed agian all of them saying that he could never resist his true desire.

But killing isn't his true desire...

You are.

Killua could live happy knowing that no blood would ever stain his hands again. But he'd rather not live at all if you weren't in his life.

You try to ignore the way his voice breaks and how his pain is breaking your heart.

"I don't know who you are." You say your voice still distant which only causes the white haired boy more pain.

"I'm your killua....remember?"

Thanks for reading!💗

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

[djarindroid]

Unspoken

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: Su-Bong's back like nothing happened, is he here to stay?

Warnings: Brief mentions of drug use

Word Count: 2,121

Comments: Hey all! Just a quick question for anyone that reads this bit, in future parts would anyone care if I potentially changed Thanos/Su-Bong's hair colour? 👀

<- Part 5

The morning after your nightmare you’d woken to the faint rustle of movement in the next room. You moved quietly across your bedroom and peered around the doorway. Su-Bong was still there. 

You watched him sitting on the edge of your couch, rolling a cigarette. The paper crinkled between his fingers as a few bits of loose tobacco fell out onto his jeans. His head was tilted down, keeping all his attention on the task at hand.

You had expected him to be gone, you didn’t dare move in case this was some illusion your brain had conjured to comfort you. You simply stood in the doorway, eyes wide as you watched him. 

Sensing your presence he asked, ‘sleep better?’ He didn’t take his attention away from the cigarette in his hands.

You shifted slightly, wondering how long he’d known you were stood there. ‘Urm, yeah,’ you replied, voice still laced with sleep. ‘Thank you for staying.’

He shrugged, finishing the roll up and sliding it behind his ear. ‘It’s nothing.’ 

But it wasn’t ‘nothing’.

The air between you was thick. Somewhere between tension and something softer. Like the aftermath of a storm that hadn’t fully passed. He still hadn’t looked at you, now opting to watch his own fingers tap absently against his knee.

You glanced at the clock on your wall and sighed. ‘I’ve got work soon, I should get ready.’

‘Kay,’ he said, stretching slightly before finally looking at you. ‘I’ll walk you there.’

Your eyes met for a brief moment, sending a shiver through you. His expression remained calm, but you could see he was still cautious, like he wasn’t completely sure where you two stood with each other anymore. Before you could read into it anymore, he looked away again, brushing the stray tobacco from his jeans.

You paused for a moment before turning back into your room and shutting the door behind you. As you pulled on your work clothes you felt overly aware of Su-Bong’s presence in the next room.  He’d never stayed the night before, it felt strangely domestic, too normal given everything that had recently happened.

By the time you stepped out ready to go, Su-bong was already standing and pulling on his hoodie. Without a word the two of you headed for your apartment door.

The walk to your work was quiet, neither of you spoke yet his presence was impossible to ignore. Every so often your arm would brush against his, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or just the way your steps fell naturally in sync.

You stole a quick glance at him, he seemed relaxed but there was something distant about the way his eyes flickered between the pavement and the street ahead.

It felt eerily similar to the last time he had walked you home. The same silence and internal struggle in your mind about whether you should say something. Though this time you had a feeling he was going through the same thing

As you neared the cafe Su-Bong asked ‘What time you finishing?’

‘Uh, I’ll be done at 5,’ you replied.

He gave a small nod but didn’t say anything else. His footsteps slowed as you approached the door. You turned to him, and there was that feeling again, the unspoken tension that darted between you.

You watched as he pulled his hoodie up, giving you a small tilt of his chin as a goodbye before turning and walking off down the street. You caught yourself watching him go, the unease spreading across your chest.

As you pushed the door to the cafe open you were surprised to find your boss already stood watching you walk in. She gave you that same knowing look as she crossed her arms.

‘He’s walking you to work now as well?’ A teasing edge in her voice that you couldn’t help but smile at.

‘It’s nothing,’ you said as you pulled off your coat. ‘He stayed on the couch last night.’

‘Mmhmm,’ she hummed.

You busied yourself tying your apron, trying to ignore the way your heart still felt unsteady from the morning.

‘Well whatever's going on there, I’m sure you two will figure it out soon.’ Your boss said before she turned and went back to the counter.

You hoped she was right, but more than anything you hoped that Su-Bong wasn’t going to just disappear from your life again.

Yet another one of your shifts was spent wondering about Su-Bong, it was becoming a habit now. 

Take an order, check your phone, serve some cake, check the clock, steam some milk, check outside. 

By the time your shift neared its end, rain had begun to fall outside. You watched it streak down the windows, washing away the last of your hope. He wasn’t gonna show up in this weather.

Accepting that, you slipped into the back to grab your things. As you slung your bag over your shoulder you heard your boss’s voice from the front of the cafe. 

‘Oh for goodness sake, you’ll be soaked through, come inside before you catch a cold.’ You smiled, it was no surprise hearing her fussing over someone like that, what did surprise you was what she said next.

‘You can just wait for her in here.’

Your breath caught. He was here, he hadn’t disappeared again. You quickly moved back into the cafe. And there he was. Su-Bong was stood near the entrance, his hair sticking down from the rain. 

You had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him standing stiffly, not knowing what to do with himself as your boss fussed over him, brushing droplets from his shoulders. She turned and reached for one of the umbrellas she kept by the door and thrust it towards him.

You lingered for a moment, watching the amusing scene unfold - him standing in a place that didn’t quite suit him being doted on like a stray someone had taken pity on.

Like he knew you were watching him, he looked up. Your eyes met, and you felt that same shiver from the morning. You didn’t have time to dwell on it as your boss was ushering you forward. 

‘Here,’ she gestured to the umbrella as you approached. ‘You two can share so you don’t get wet.’

You smiled and thanked her before turning back to Su-Bong. He was scratching the back of his head, still looking vaguely uncomfortable.

‘You ready to go?’ He asked.

‘Yeah,’ you stepped forward as he began to push the door open.

He headed out before you, opening the umbrella so you could step out under it too. 

The rain drummed against the umbrella, as the two of you began walking. You tried to not let your thoughts dwell on how close you were, how you could feel his warmth or how you could smell the faint scent of smoke that clung to his jacket. 

‘She like your mum or something?’ Su-Bong asked, nodding back toward the cafe.

You couldn’t help but laugh, ‘no she’s not my mum, she’s just like that with everyone.’

Su-Bong laughed too. ‘Could’ve fooled me, if we stayed any longer she’d be giving me a packed lunch and getting me to tuck my shirt in.’ 

You grinned, this was easy, this is how you two were supposed to be. The lighthearted conversation drifted between you, an easy back and forth that came naturally to the two of you. You talked about your day, a weird customer who insisted on paying in loose change, and about how your boss has been trying to convince you to take up knitting.

Su-Bong hummed in amusement. ‘She’s probably already knitting me a scarf.’

As your apartment building came into sight the conversation tapered off. The air between you was completely different from that morning, the tension was gone leaving you with the familiar comfort he usually brought.

‘You wanna get takeout señorita?’ And there it was. That nickname again, the one you hadn’t heard in nearly a week at this point. The one that had you forgetting everything that happened.

A grin tugged at your lips as you pushed open the door. ‘Yeah I’d like that, but you’re paying.’

Things between you and Su-Bong settled into a new normal. There was still that unspoken cloud hanging over you both, but neither of you acknowledged it. Opting to choose the easy route. 

He never said anything about the four days of silence, never explained why he chose to answer you in the middle of the night and you never asked. But in his own way, it seemed like he was trying to make up for it.

You’d catch him clearing the dishes after dinner, or replacing the flickering bulb in your lamp without a word. If you dropped something, he was bending down to get it before it even hit the floor. He even attempted to fix your wobbley coffee table, he did a pretty good job even if he managed to leave it with a slight lean. 

He never made a big deal out of any of it, never tried to get a thanks out of you. But you understood, this was his way of apologising. And, for now, that was enough.  

Although every time he did something it became harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. It was the way he did them, casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. It was getting harder to pretend your feelings weren’t shifting, harder to ignore the way you found yourself looking at him when he wasn’t paying attention, harder to push down the thought that maybe he felt it too.

But then you’d remember that night.

The dazed, half lidded way he’d looked at you. How you’d wanted to give in to him, to let him pull you close. You kept telling yourself he hadn’t meant it, that it was just the high talking. Yet, you couldn’t quite shake the hope that it had come from somewhere real.

So you never said anything, letting that warmth settle in your chest without giving it a name. Because if you asked, if you pushed, he might disappear again. And you weren’t ready for that.

One evening whilst he was sprawled out across your couch as you watched TV, he said something that made your heart lift.

‘I’ve written some new songs recently,’ he said offhandedly like he expected you to brush past it.

You perked up at his words, he never spoke about his music career. For a split second all you could do was look at him. You’d heard what people had said in the games about him. How his career had started to slip, how he was forgetting the lyrics to his own songs. You’d never mentioned it, not sure if it was something he’d want to go back to.

‘Wait, really?’ You managed to say as you shifted towards him.

He kept his eyes on the TV but nodded. ‘Yeah, got a gig in a couple of days. Nothing big though.’

Your chest tightened, because you knew it was a big deal even if he was acting like it wasn’t, he was trying again. ‘Su-Bong, that's amazing!’

He shrugged but you caught the smile tugging at his lips. ‘It’s just a little set, nothing like what I used to do, need something to get me started again you know?’

‘I’m sure the world is ready to hear some new Thanos material,’ you wiggled your eyebrows at him. 

Su-Bong didn’t laugh, his expression shifted subtly, but still enough for you to notice. He exhaled slowly before his eyes flickered to you. 

‘I’m not using that name anymore,’ he said simply.

That caught you off guard, he was letting go of something so big, something that had defined him, and he was saying it like it was something so simple. ‘Seriously?’

‘Doesn’t feel right anymore,’ he gave a small shrug.

You nodded slowly, it made sense. Maybe this was his way of starting over properly, like he was getting rid of a piece that no longer fit. You could tell there was something else he wanted to say so you remained quiet, giving him the time to think it through. 

‘Anyways, if you’re not busy you could come if you want?’ He cleared his throat, was he nervous? ‘It’s probably not your kinda scene but y’know, if you’re not busy you could.’

The way he danced through the words made your chest ache, he was really trying to act like this whole thing wasn’t important. But you could read between the lines - he wanted you there. And there was no way in hell you were gonna say no.

-> Part 7 Coming Soon Series Masterlist

Taglist: @andersonslove @fallout-girl219 @olasz-2003 @l5byrinth @hotdxdragon @cherrypied0lly @nicklet94 @learninglinesintherainn @tebteb @lotsa-juicy-shit @onecojg @the-iridescent-phoenix @red22wolf

[ssentimentals]

it was always you - fernando alonso/lance stroll, 6k, rated T, completed!

Lance takes a sip and lets warm liquid settle his anxiety and mentally prepare him for the beginning of this week. He decides to think of this cup as one-time thing, mismatched coffee that somehow ended up on his desk; he’s sure that there will be no more gifts.

He is wrong. So, so wrong.

or, secret admirer!AU. It gets worse before it gets better.

(Read on AO3) or read below the cut!

a/n: this work is a part of Lance Love Fest collection by @no00000000. thank you so much for creating this wonderful fest of the most wonderful boy ever :') 💜

One.

It starts with coffee on his desk on a random Monday morning. Cappuccino on oat milk with vanilla syrup in a fancy takeaway cup. It’s not from Starbucks on the first floor and nor is it from their cafeteria; Lance immediately recognizes small and pretty logo from his favorite little Italian place not far from the office. It’s horrifically overpriced, but what’s the point of making money if not to spend it on stuff that makes work a little more bearable? Coffee is amazing and their butter tarts are to die for – Lance is ready to close his eyes at the cash register for this goodness; sue him for being picky and particular with his food. Lance places his laptop on the desk and gingerly takes the cup in his hands, smiling a little – it’s still warm.

‘Thanks, Este.’ Lance turns to his friend, who is the only other person in their open space at the moment. Esteban looks up from his laptop, giving Lance a little wave for the greeting. ‘I thought you hated the place though.’

‘Which place?’ Esteban asks and when Lance points at his cup, he only shrugs. ‘Still hate it. I’m not posh enough to close my eyes on their ridiculous prices for the coffee.’

Lance’s heart warms up at the thought of his friend hating it and yet still going there to grab him a cup of coffee. ‘Thanks for the coffee, then.’

Esteban frowns. ‘I didn’t buy it.’ And then, because it’s Esteban and there’s no way he’s not interested in someone else’s business, he instantly is up on his feet, coming closer to Lance. ‘You just found it on the desk? Was there a note?’

Lance turns to look but his desk is spotless save for his laptop and whatever disaster he’s got going on with six different cables. There’s nothing on the cup as well, which makes Lance frown. ‘It’s just us here, no?’

Esteban and Lance always come the earliest, turning on their laptop at six thirty – both leave too far from the office to have the luxury of waking up at seven and not being late. Lance takes the cursory glance at their open space, but there’s no one here and it will stay like that for at least thirty minutes – then little by little this place will become lively and full of people.

‘Just you and me,’ Esteban confirms and then turns to the side, squinting. ‘And probably some higher ups from director’s board. You know, the usuals.’

The ‘usuals’ being Mark who is CFO and Fernando who is COO. Lance glances at the cup in his hands. Crazy thought comes to his mind, and he instantly squashes it down, not letting himself even think about it – there’s simply no way.

‘Oh my god,’ Esteban is whispering but he’s too excited to actually hold his voice down, ‘I think that you, my friend, got yourself a secret admirer!’

Lance blinks. He looks at the cup and then back at Este, arching his eyebrow. ‘Sounds unlikely.’

It’s not like Lance finds himself unworthy of such attention, it’s more that Lance is a very self-aware guy. He knows how he looks, knows what kind of impression he makes, knows his pluses and minuses. He’s not self-conscious, but he is also not the guy who is at the top of anyone’s rating and it’s- fine. It is absolutely fine.

‘Let’s wait,’ Esteban says, ever the wise one. ‘If there will be more gifts then it is a secret admirer!’

‘Uh-huh.’

Lance takes a sip and lets warm liquid settle his anxiety and mentally prepare him for the beginning of this week. He decides to think of this cup as one-time thing, mismatched coffee that somehow ended up on his desk; he’s sure that there will be no more gifts.

He is wrong. So, so wrong. 

Two.

It doesn’t stop with the coffee. There’s a special thing for his cables waiting on the desk and a box of chocolates. Third day starts from another cup of coffee but this time with butter tarts and a small note with ‘they finally had them today, enjoy!’ written in a neat handwriting. On a fourth day Lance finally admits to insistent Esteban that yes, he indeed has a secret admirer. On a fourth day Lance finally lets himself feel the giddiness that rushes through his veins at the sight of something waiting for him on his desk. On a fourth day Lance lets himself hope. He first thought it’d be silly to let this somehow affect him, but what makes life worth living if not those little moments of joy? So, Lance lets himself feel it. Lets smile curl corners of his lips upwards, lets excitement start a fire in the pit of his stomach, lets joy creep in every single corner of his heart. The box that greets him on the fourth day is rather big and Lance hesitates a little before opening it. Esteban, who finds the whole ordeal extremely amusing and now eagerly waits for Lance at his desk every morning, is right next to him, smiling widely with hands clasped in front of him. ‘Lancey, think. Mon couer, you really gotta think, cause if you have someone fancying you enough to gift you something from Hugo Boss then it’s gotta be someone who makes it obvious that they like you. Think. Also, whoever it is, what if they have single friends? I’d also like to receive some presents.’

Lance snorts unattractively. He doesn’t have many friends and none of them would ever pretend to be his secret admirer, and he also doesn’t know anyone who’d be interested in him romantically; Lance kind of forgot how dates look like, at this point. Which is tragic, according to his mother. ‘I have no idea who this might be,’ he replies honestly, opening the box. ‘I think if someone was hitting on me, I’d definitely noti-‘ Lance pauses right when Esteban gasps. ‘Oh.’

It's a scarf. Black one with no logos or any kind of patterns on it. Rather wide but not very long. Cashmere is so soft in his hands and Lance takes his time to appreciate the quality, while Esteban rambles on and on, channeling his inner detective: ‘If it’s not anyone from the outside then it’s someone from the company, one of our co-workers. You and I rarely have meetings with people from other departments, right? So it’s someone from finance. We have around twenty people here, give or take.’

‘Half of the people here are married.’

Esteban nods with a thoughtful look on his face: ‘True. Have you recently told anyone apart from me that you need a new scarf?’

Lance is not exactly a chatterbox; he is also not someone who prefers to stay silent, but he doesn’t often talk about non-work-related things with his co-workers. Unfortunately (or fortunately) working in finance department is very true to all stereotypes in most of the cases: people are not the friendliest bunch, no one is overly excited or loud, closeness between colleagues is a not a common thing here. So, no, Lance doesn’t just go around talking about his shopping needs to anyone who’s willing to listen.

‘Yesterday after the meeting!’ Esteban lights up like a lightbulb. ‘Remember? You and I stayed together with Mark and Fernando, Nico and Kev were there too to go over timings again. We all started talking about snowboarding and stuff. You started the whole conversation about Switzerland, Lancey.’

Lance remembers. He remembers sitting in front of Fernando, trying his hardest to stay concentrated on his laptop screen even when he could feel the older man’s gaze on him. He remembers accidentally bumping their feet together and looking up to find Fernando’s soft smile and ‘no worries, Lance’ thrown at him with a wink. He remembers biting his lower lip to prevent himself from smiling like an idiot but quickly putting his neutral mask on after hearing Mark’s loud sigh. He remembers feeling a slight commotion underneath the table and then Mark’s pained groan. Lance started talking about Switzerland only because Mark suddenly turned to him with a frown, clipping out: ‘Where do you like to snowboard, Lance?’ question at him like he’s being forced to ask this.

‘Yeah, I remember. Talked about Alps… Then I said that I bought gloves recently and that I needed to look for a scarf.’

Esteban looks like he’ll vibrate out of his skin. ‘Let’s see: Nico and Kevin are married. Mark is single, right? Fernando too. And me but I am obviously not gonna gift you a fucking Hugo Boss scarf-‘

‘Obviously,’ Lance mutters, smiling when Esteban slaps his shoulder.

‘Dick. You know I love you, I don’t have to spend that much money on you.’

Lance shrugs. ‘I don’t know, would’ve been nice to receive something expensive from you as well.’

Esteban ignores him completely, too lost in his thoughts. ‘Can it be Mark? Cause it definitely can’t be Fernando. Holy shit, Lance, did you manage to pull a freaking CFO-‘

‘Shh!’ Lance hisses, looking around frantically. There’s no one around but Esteban never fully grasped the concept of ‘whispering’, so Lance still worries. ‘Este, fuck, do you even hear yourself?’

Esteban shrugs like he didn’t just say the most ridiculous thing ever. ‘Mark always kinda favored you, no?’

And that’s – well, Lance has nothing to say about this. Mark did sort of favor him from the start, gave Lance much more trust than someone in his position deserved, but Lance never let him down, always delivered everything in the best way, so he guesses it’s all fair. But just the thought of Mark being his secret admirer makes his stomach churn. Lance tries to sound uninterested as he questions: ‘Why so sure that it’s not Fernando?’

Esteban raises his eyebrow and looks at Lance like he suddenly grew two heads. ‘Are you kidding?’

It shouldn’t sting. It shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t – but it does. Lance puts the scarf away and almost wants to laugh at what an idiotic thought crossed his mind, what an idiotic hope flared in his chest. Of course it’s not Fernando. It can never be Fernando, never for Lance. Really, who is he kidding?

Three.

The thing is – Lance has a very silly crush on Fernando. Not the ‘he is hot and I want him’ kind, although Lance can readily admit that Fernando is hot and that he does want him in a sexual way. Actually, if his crush stayed solely on that territory it would’ve made everything easier, but Lance never wanted easy, so his heart chose to get involved as well and complicated everything.

On his very first day when he came to this company as an intern, he met Fernando in the cafeteria, bumping into his back on accident and spilling his coffee all over both of them. He still remembers freezing, remembers feeling like his heart is in his throat, remembers mumbling apologies and looking distraught. He also remembers warm hands on his forearms, amused but kind smile, chocolate eyes looking at him with curiosity. He remembers strong voice with a distinct accent and cheeky wink thrown with ‘you’re good at first impressions’ comment, which made his cheeks burn. For the three years Fernando worked mostly from Spain, so to Lance he stayed as a distant figure on the important meetings with whom he has no correlation. Everything changed when Fernando moved back here from Spain; he started coming to the office almost every day and given Lance’s promotions, number of meetings where both of them were present increased. And with that… Lance can’t exactly point the time when he developed this crush. Maybe it happened when Fernando asked in the middle of the meeting: ‘And you? What do you think, Lance?’ and stared at him like his opinion mattered. Or maybe it happened during their late-night talks, when Fernando would come over to Lance who was hunched on his chair, frantically finalizing his report, with a coffee in hand, asking softly if he needed any help. Fernando was never Lance’s mentor (that role went to Mark), but he somehow always made sure Lance knew for a fact that he’d support him and back him up in anything. From an unreachable big boss in two years Fernando turned into a constant presence by his side – never overwhelming, only supporting. And Lance is not strong enough to resist the pull of his heart, crush developed against his will, and he fell hard. There were times when Lance thought that his feelings might be reciprocated – he knew Fernando didn’t really engage with anyone other high-level seniors and yet he always made time for Lance, a simple mid-level employee. He felt Fernando’s intense gaze at him too many times, but nothing followed this, no action and… well. Lance is not stupid. If Fernando wanted him, he’d show, he’d do something; men like Fernando never hesitate. Realizing this crushed his hopes and he thought it hurt then, but the way it hurts now is incomparable. Wrapped in the scarf that is most likely gifted from Mark and not from Fernando, Lance feels sluggish and downright miserable, not wanting to see what waits for him on the fifth day. Now that he is pretty sure that it’s Mark, these presents have no meaning, zero excitement – it’s a pity and sad. He doesn’t even try to look happy in front of Esteban, who is leaning on the wall next to his desk, waiting for him.

‘Coffee and brand-new notebook,’ Esteban announces. He looks at his friend and frowns, stepping closer. ‘What is it? You look shitty.’

Lance scoffs at this. He regards the new notebook with disdain, and it pains him to admit how actually nice it looks. He finished his old one yesterday on the meeting, receiving many chuckles on how ‘hardworking’ he is; part of him expected this gift.

‘Mark has always been very attentive.’ Esteban comments, handing Lance his coffee. ‘But to be honest I am surprised; he doesn’t look like someone who has balls to start flirting with someone right at work. Especially with him being the big boss and all that jazz.’

Lance hates how Esteban is sure that Mark is his secret admirer and hates how much sense it makes. Mark is the one who spends most time with Lance at work, Mark is attentive, Mark is- not Fernando. Lance looks at the coffee and feels that he’s going to throw up. Mark is not Fernando, and these presents are not from Fernando and Lance now has a fucking CFO courting him. Oh, he is going to throw up. Barely swallowing, Lance puts coffee cup back on the desk and rushes towards the bathrooms still in his coat and all. He didn’t have breakfast, but he swears he is going to vomit-

‘Whoa, careful,’ strong hands catch him when he collides with someone at the turn. Lance blinks, looks up and freezes at the sight of one and only, Fernando Alonso. COO of their company first smiles at him and then frowns, catching wild look on Lance’s face. ‘Lance? Is everything okay?’

Lance forces his mind to restart. ‘Uh- yeah, yeah. Just um. Bathroom. Yeah.’

Fernando looks unconvinced but then his gaze drops to the scarf wrapped around Lance’s neck. Something passes on his face and his eyes stay locked on the scarf so intently that Lance momentarily forgets about his churning stomach and instead also looks down – did he manage to leave a stain there? He’s about to ask this, when Fernando’s hand moves from his forearm and gently touches the scarf, smiling softly. ‘You like it?’ He asks in that smooth voice of his that never fails to make Lance’s heart beat a bit faster.

‘I do,’ Lance replies sincerely. Even if it’s from Mark, he still likes it.

Fernando nods, looking pleased. His hand drops and he takes a step back, regarding Lance with a fond look that makes him warm all over. ‘Good. It suits you very well.’

Lance is lucky enough to be at the receiving end of many, many compliments throughout his life but this one makes his cheeks burn. It’s ridiculous. ‘Thank you.’

He manages not to combust in the bathroom and stays sane throughout the whole day until him and Este enter the meeting room for the short project timings check and Mark is there, looking grim as death itself. He smiles at both of them tiredly and only smiles when he notices Lance’s new notebook. Esteban, of course, notices this and nudges Lance briefly with a knowing gleam in his eyes before quickly starting to present his updates. He’s out once he’s done and Lance feels dread settling in him, once he realizes that he’s left alone with Mark. Under normal circumstances he’d absolutely fine with this, but now he’s uncomfortable and full of desire to get out of here. Mark smiles warmly at him, gesturing to start. Lance tries his best not to make any eye contact and gives his updates in a curt manner, squeezing his legs together to stop them from shaking.

‘Thank you, Lance. Very clear, as always.’ Mark praises and then his phone pings with incoming message. He looks at it and his eyes first grow wider and then he squints at the screen like it personally offended him. He quickly looks up at Lance and then back at the screen before sighing so deeply that Lance for a second fears for his own life. ‘Um. Lance. I have a question.’

Lance tenses up. God, please no. ‘About?’

Mark looks very uncomfortable, and it only unsettles Lance even more. ‘Do you…’ Mark starts and then coughs like any word out hurts him. ‘Fuck- I mean, sorry, sorry for the cursing.’ Mark shakes his head, glancing briefly at his phone before turning back to Lance. ‘Do you have plans for tomorrow?’

Lance hopes the ground will break and swallow him whole. ‘Why?’ He croaks out, hoping his voice doesn’t betray how he feels.

Mark grimaces like he’s eating a lemon. ‘Tomorrow is a big day, no?’ Seeing Lance’s confusion, he elaborates: ‘It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.’

Oh. Oh. Lance’s pretty sure all colors drown out from his face. Now it all makes sense – all these gifts and this question. Everything was leading up to this, to Valentine’s Day. His heart is at his throat with how nervous he is at this realization – Mark is about to ask him out. For Valentine’s Day. Lance fears that this time he actually might throw up for real. Before he can come up with something along the lines of ‘this is a rather personal question’, Mark saves him by groaning loudly and hiding his face in his hands. He groans something about being friends with an idiot and Lance has an inkling that he is watching his boss lose his mind right in front of him.

‘I’m sorry, Lance, god, I’m sorry.’ Mark sounds sincere as he looks at him. ‘I’m just cursed for being friends with an idiot. Forget I asked that. I- just- let me rephrase it, yeah? Don’t freak out, please.’

It’s kind of too late for that, but Lance nods. He trusts Mark – after five years working together, he likes to think that he knows his boss well; Mark will never do anything to hurt him. He nods, showing Mark that he can go on. CFO chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before finally settling on: ‘What would you like on Valentine’s Day? To do, to get as a present. I’m asking for a friend.’

A friend. Lance knows it’s a lie, but he pretends to be unaware of this and breathes out, calming himself. He can do this. He’s a mature adult, he can answer the question and then rush back home and forget this ever happened. ‘Flowers,’ he responses, hoping he sounds friendly enough. ‘I think flowers are very nice.’

Mark solemnly nods, listening to him attentively like Lance is telling him something related to work. ‘Flowers, got it. Anything else?’

Lance shrugs. He thinks of what he’d like to receive and doesn’t even stop himself from imagining Fernando giving it all to him. With a dreamy small smile on his face, Lance adds: ‘I would love to receive some jewelry piece. Something unique, maybe. With a special engraving, something very personal.’ He blinks out of his reverie, blushing a little. ‘Um, yeah.’

Mark watches him for a while and then smiles, leaning back. ‘Thank you, Lance. Sorry for keeping you – thanks for the updates. See you tomorrow.’

Lance nods and does what he wanted to do the same second he entered this room – he gets out of it with a relieved sigh.

Four.

It’s a bit sad how life gets so hectic that Valentine’s Day would’ve gone completely unnoticed by Lance if not for yesterday's talk with Mark. He dreads going to work today, but they do not have flexible working hours and Lance drags himself out of bed with reluctance that can rival Esteban’s hatred for Pierre. Despite everything Lance does his best in cleaning up for today, knowing that he has two separate sessions with senior management (and yes, one of them is with Fernando) and comes to the office a bit later than usual but with combed hair and a nice suit. Esteban whistles at the sight of him once he enters, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively: ‘Excited for the secret admirer reveal?’

Lance rolls his eyes, taking off his coat. ‘Excited for two sessions with leaders. It’s the first time I’ll talk to Oliver.’

Esteban steps closer, sliding his arm easily around Lance’s waist with a wide smile on his face. ‘You’re getting that promotion, mon ami. Don’t worry about it. You know that no one meets Ollie unless it’s about promotions.’

Lance tries not to let negative thoughts win; logically, he knows Esteban is right. When Mark first commented that Oliver wanted to speak with him, Lance almost spilled coffee on himself and Mark only smiled softly and told him that he had nothing to worry about. Lance is not sure that meeting CEO of the company for the first time in a 1-1 meeting is a casual affair, but he is not going to mess it up by being a jumble of nerves. ‘Fingers crossed.’

Esteban squeezes him in a tight hug before letting go. ‘You deserve it more than anyone else, Lance. Just like you deserve some rich man showering you with gifts.’

‘Oh fucking hell,’ Lance mutters, ignoring loud cackle of his friend. They both move towards their places, and he notes with a sigh of relief that there’s nothing on his desk. ‘See? Nothing.’

Esteban looks surprised and almost disappointed by the whole ordeal. He even checks under the desk, coming back up with a pout. ‘Weird. It’s Valentine’s! If you’re free tonight then lets go to the new Marvel movie?’ At Lance’s raised eyebrow, he elaborates: ‘I assumed you’d have a date tonight, so I didn’t ask, but..’

‘Lets go,’ Lance easily agrees.

Not having a gift from Mark on the desk instantly lightened up his mood. The first half of the day passes quickly, and his mood elevates even more when Henry lets him know that Mark won’t come today. His hope that maybe it’s not Mark behind all of his presents reignites, but it’s all forgotten when he finally meets Oliver face to face. It’s hard to describe the crushing disappointment he feels, when he realizes that this talk is not about promotion; Oliver kindly asks Lance to cover Marta’s role, who will be leaving soon on her maternity leave. While Oliver explains the full reimbursement package, Lance focuses on dealing with a tight knot in his chest that refuses to let him breathe properly. Even genuine compliments from CEO do not help with the overwhelming weight on his chest; Lance’s face doesn’t a single emotion by a sheer power of will. He manages a tight-lipped smile at the end, promising to give his answer by the end of next week. He exists on shaky legs, trying to calm himself down with breathing techniques. This is nothing, he knows. This is such a small thing to get upset about, he knows. But the hope he had had never been crushed this cruelly, Lance leans on the wall for support. The promotion served as the best motivation for the whole year and now that it’s taken away, he feels stripped bare of everything no matter how dramatic it sounds. Groaning in frustration at his own emotional turbulence Lance scrubs furiously at his face, moving away from the corridor to the lavatories side. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should’ve known. He should’ve known that promotion is not in line for him despite all the efforts. He should’ve worked harder. He should’ve tried better, he should’ve-

‘Lance?’

Lance is not going to cry. He blinks and comes back to reality, facing Fernando. His warm hands as always are on his forearms, his chocolate orbs are gazing at him with unhidden worry. Lance opens his mouth to say something, anything, but what comes off is a choked whimper. Embarrassment coils hot in his stomach and he’s ready to apologize and move on but those words die on his tongue as Fernando grips the back of his neck strongly but lovingly, forcing Lance to lean closer.

‘Lancito,’ Fernando breathes out, frown etched deep on his forehead. ‘What’s wrong? Tell me.’

Lance is not going to cry. His throat constricts with unspoken words, but his pride is stronger, so he shakes his head, taking a deep breath. The affectionate Lancito colors his cheeks and without meaning to, his gaze drops to Fernando’s mouth before he looks away. ‘Nothing,’ Lance mutters, clearing his throat. He doesn’t want to be snappy with Fernando, but he can’t bear anyone seeing him in this state. ‘I’m fine, I-‘

The way Fernando’s grip tightens up on his neck shuts him up. Fernando’s eyes are looking into his soul and Lance lets Fernando see all the despair he’s feeling – his walls crumble in front of this man. ‘Come,’ Fernando says and it clearly is an order, not a request. ‘Come with me, Lance.’

Lance has a feeling that the world in which he stays strong and says ‘no’ to Fernando simply doesn’t exist. He follows him, trying to regulate his emotions but when they enter Fernando’s own room and the door closes behind him, Lance has to clench his hands into fists and bite his lower lip hard to prevent himself from crying. Fernando locks the door and gently guides Lance to the plush sofa, sitting him down like a child. Lance supposes he is a child with how he’s overreacting, and this thought sends him into the spiral of shame.

‘What is it, Lance?’ Fernando asks softly, gingerly reaching out and uncurling his hands. He carefully takes them into his and slow swipe of his thumb over Lance’s wrist makes him a bit crazy. ‘What happened? You were with Oliver, no? Did he upset you? Is this about your promotion?’

Lance freezes. God, of course Fernando knows. He is a member of director board, he is Mark’s closest friend, of course he knows about Lance and promotion. Hot shame rushes through his body and Lance swallows. Does Fernando find him stupid? Childish for being upset over this? Incompetent? Lance will fucking change companies, he swears. ‘Yes,’ he breathes out because there’s no point in lying. ‘It’s just- a lot.’

Fernando nods in understanding. He lets go of his hand and Lance supposes that this is it, he’s going to get thrown out, when the same hand gently brushes away teardrops from his cheek. The action stuns him into silence, renders him immobile – Lance blinks stupidly, looking up at Fernando. The expression older man wears is… Lance doesn’t dare to hope. That’s not how one looks at a co-worker. That’s not how one looks at a co-worker for who he doesn’t have any feelings for.

‘Everyone acknowledges your contribution to the team, Lance. We believe-‘

‘Don’t give me that,’ Lance hastily cuts him off. The last thing he wants to hear right now is a lame excuse. ‘I don’t- I don’t want to hear it.’

Fernando doesn’t seem to be shaken with how brazen Lance acted, he simply nods and drops his hand from Lance’s face, covering his knee with it instead. They sit in a silence for a while, which lets Lance finally get his emotions under control. He lets them simmer in the background, coming back down as a tidal wave. Fernando doesn’t rush him, just holds his hands and his caresses calm Lance down more than he cares to admit. It’s almost disturbingly comfortable to stay like this with Fernando, he realizes. To have this man sit close to him, to have him hold his hands, have his attention – it’s addicting. Lance doesn’t miss how Fernando stares at their joined hands lovingly, almost wistfully, with a small smile on his face. Could it be that he’s also picturing them holding hands outside of the office? Could it be that in his dreams he sees Lance next to him, walking side by side? Hope is such a scary thing; after one disappointment, bearing another one almost immediately is too harsh for Lance.

 ‘Okay,’ Fernando finally says, noting how Lance looks much more relaxed. ‘If you don’t want to hear anything about the promotion then perhaps, you’d like to hear about your final present, then?’

‘What?’ Lance asks, confused. ‘Final present?’

Fernando nods and moves to stand up. Lance, in an anxious spur, tightens his hold on their hands before realizing what he’s doing and letting Fernando’s hands go like he’s burned. With red cheeks, he glances at the COO of the company, who only chuckles softly and taps twice on Lance’s knee. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Lance nods, too afraid to speak up. God, what was that? Why did he just- his train of thoughts stops at the sight of the bouquet that Fernando pulls out somewhere from behind the desk. Red roses, at least thirty of them, glare at Lance mockingly, stunning him. Wrapped in a crafted paper, their smell wafts in the air, reminding him suddenly that it’s Valentine’s. It’s Valentine’s Day today and Fernando bought someone roses. Lance’s throat suddenly is drier than any desert. His heart falls somewhere down, down, down –

‘Do you like them?’ Fernando asks, coming closer.

Lance, in fact, hates them. Also irrationally hates whoever these flowers are meant for. ‘They are very beautiful,’ he answers dutifully in a shaky voice. The worst thing is that they are beautiful, goddammit. And because jealousy is an ugly green monster that apparently leaves in his heart, he can’t stop himself from asking: ‘For who?’

Flowers are moved out of his sight and instead he sees Fernando’s amused expression. ‘For who?’ He repeats, eyes twinkling with mirth. ‘For who do you think, Lance?’

This is pure torture. Lance doesn’t want to think of any other love interest Fernando might have, he can’t bear imagining someone else on the receiving end of this. God, why can’t it be him? When will luck be on his side? ‘For your partner, I presume.’

Fernando quirks an eyebrow. ‘Not yet. But hopefully, yes.’ He looks at the flowers and then back at Lance. ‘Do you think this would sway them in the right direction? Make them say ‘yes’ to me, maybe?’

How can anyone say ‘no’ to Fernando? Lance bites the inside of his cheek to keep his expression in check and not show how devastated he is. He looks at the flowers and just the image of Fernando giving them to someone precious, someone he regards highly, someone like him –  ‘Mhm, yes. I think so, yes.’

Fernando’s face breaks into a breathtaking smile. He hands the bouquet to Lance, never breaking their eye contact. ‘Then is it a ‘yes’, Lance? From you?’

Hope is such a scary thing. Lance can feel it bloom full force in his chest, making his heart beat twice as fast. His fingers tremble as he carefully reaches out, afraid that Fernando might pull back and call this all a joke. But man of his dreams stands steady and only watches Lance with unhidden adoration. Fernando looks at Lance like he might grab him the moon if he asks for it – it kind of drives Lance wild.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Lance.’ Fernando says softly, not moving. He keeps a respectable distance, watching as Lance’s entire face brightens when he sniffs the flowers. ‘Hope you liked the flowers.’

‘They are beautiful,’ Lance whispers, holding them gently. The reality is not fully registered in his brain, so he doesn’t look up at Fernando. ‘Very pretty.’

‘Not as pretty as you,’ Fernando instantly says and it doesn’t sound cringy at all when his voice is filled with sincerity that echoes back in Lance’s heart. ‘Did you like all other presents?’

At this Lance looks up. With wide eyes, he gasps: ‘It was you?’

Fernando blinks. ‘Yes?’

‘I thought they were from Mark Webber.’ Lance admits and now it’s Fernando’s turn to go wide-eyed.

‘Wha- no! Mark was helping me with presents, that’s all. I wanted it all to be secret, so I asked Mark to learn what you like and etc.’ Fernando frowns: ‘Did you want them to be from Mark?’

‘No!’ Lance yells out probably louder than needed. Suddenly all Mark’s weird behavior makes sense in Lance’s head: all the looking at his phone, eyes rolling, general ‘I am tired of this bullshit’ face. ‘No, no, I wanted them to be from you!’

Ah. Lance knows he confessed too much, when Fernando’s frown melts into a cheshire grin. He looks too smug and Lance hates how all he wants to do is just kiss that smirk off his face. ‘You wanted them to be from me?’ Fernando steps closer, finally breaching the distance between them. ‘Good.’

Lance doesn’t dare to breathe. He clenches crafted paper between his fingers, licking his lips nervously. Fernando’s eyes follow the movement, and he leans just a tad bit closer, enough for Lance’s heart to break the ribcage and fall into his arms. ‘Why?’ Lance asks breathlessly.

Fernando meets his eyes and smile so fondly that Lance has a hard time standing still. His hand is back on Lance’s face, this time cupping it gently, eyes shining bright with affection. ‘Why? How can I not, Lance?’ Fernando’s hushed voice brushes over him like a soothing balm. ‘Have you seen yourself? You’re so good, Lance, too good. I wanted to do this for a long time.’

‘Give me presents?’

Fernando chuckles. ‘That as well. But mostly this, being able to touch you like this.’ His thumb strokes tender skin under Lance’s eye. ‘I was scared at first. But then I thought if not now then when? I don’t want to leave this place and I don’t want you to leave it. Corporate politics are important, of course, but…’ Fernando takes Lance’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. ‘But you and me, and what we might have – nothing is more important than that.’

If Fernando is not going to stop then Lance will do something extremely reckless. Like kiss him senseless and drop on his knees or ask him to marry him. Taking a deep breath, he wills himself to be normal about this man at least for one fucking second. ‘Fernando,’ he calls. ‘I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much for the gifts. I loved every single one of them.’

‘There’s one more.’ Fernando smiles at the way Lance instantly perks up at this. A beautiful silver bracelet with 'F' letter and en emerald pendant. It would look so pretty on Lance. ‘But you will get it only if you go out with me tonight. For dinner.’

Lance gulps. He doesn’t want to assume, but- ‘Dinner on the Valentine’s Day? Is this a date?’

Fernando looks at the bouquet in his hands and then back at him. ‘I’d hope so, yes. Or do you have just friends who send you bouquets on this day and ask you out?’

It’s meant as a joke, obviously, but there’s something underneath it. A tiny spark of possessiveness that has Lance shivering in delight. ‘A date, then.’

Fernando smiles at him with eyes full of love. ‘A date. We’ll go straight from work if you don’t mind.’

Lance shakes his head. ‘I don’t mind.’

Fernando looks at him with such a pleased smile that Lance can’t help but giggle a little, ducking his head down shyly. Fernando’s hands move to his waist, squeezing gently but firmly. He leans in slightly, brushing their noses together. Lance’s breath hitches. Could it be..?

‘Later,’ Fernando promises.

Lance gulps. With his eyes trained on Fernando’s lips, he clarifies: ‘Tonight?’

‘Tonight.’

Lance nods. He lets himself bask I the closeness for few more moments before slowly extracting himself from Fernando’s grip. Holding flowers close, he moves to the door, smiling at the feeling of a warm hand on his back. He turns – he can’t not turn, not glance one more time – Fernando meets his gaze with adoration mirrored back to him. Only it’s there tenfold, mixed with fondness and something hot – Lance can’t really be blamed for his self-control fraying. He turns fully and boldly brings their mouths together, moaning appreciatively when Fernando instantly kisses him back with so much fervor that it steals his breath away. This kiss is everything Lance ever wanted: it makes his knees weak, melts his heart, turns him into a maniac with how much he doesn’t want this to ever stop. Fernando kisses him like he’s making a point, proving something, claiming – Lance kisses back like he won’t ever let go, like he wants to blend them into one.

‘Precioso,’ Fernando mutters, when Lance pulls back with a gasp. He leans in, peppering his face with kisses. ‘Ah, Lance. The things you make me do.’

Lance giggles – a tiny, happy sound that makes Fernando smile affectionately. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he whispers, licking his lips once more just to be a tease. ‘Bye, Fernando.’

‘See you,’ Fernando echoes, eyes blazing with heat that makes Lance want to forget about the work and just stay here forever.

Lance closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath. It’s Fernando. His secret admirer, the one responsible for all the gifts. It’s Fernando, Lance’s crush. Lance takes a steadying breath and clutches the flowers closer to his chest. Yes, he may have lost the promotion, but it feels like he won something much, much bigger in the end.

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What would your broken heart feel about your nuptial union ? (18+)

PILE 3 

SONG : Georgia on My mind - Ray Charles

2 wands, World, 3 cups (reverse), Emperor (reverse) 

Y’all ate your 12 red grapes under the table this year. 

The reading is you take down your wedding day hairstyle while your husband is setting up the room (whatever that means …) and you look at the mirror, there's a flash of your older self. 

(You are caressing your wedding ring.) 

I was pissed when they brought him back into my life again. When I ate the 12 red grapes we had just broken up … I know I am the one who decided to end things because I could not handle the purity of his love. Yes I know it was probably a very bitchy move to eat the grape under the table but I thought that maybe with someone else I would be able to open my heart more easily. I was so scared to break him. I’ve been broken so many times before. I did not want to be the reason that turn him into an helpless in love like the loser that I am. Maybe it is the red string theory or maybe it is the karma because I try to play in the Universe face but here I am proudly married to my first and last love. Is all thanks to him. He came back into my life, while I was starting to date around (tears of disappointment are making their way on your cheeks. You are so disappointed that you almost fall into an old cycle because you could not handle the goodness of his love) again. Can’t believe  I told him to wait his turn. Can't believe I told him that he was not  the only one. Can't believe I told him that it will pass. People always love me before I become too much and other times I destroy it  myself before it can destroy me. In all seriousness, I think I first ran away because I was scared of the pain that was going to come when it would all fell apart, like it usually does. How fucked of me to think so lowly of our union at first ? My sweet boy used to text me when drunk just to tell me how much loved me. How much he loved my brown skin, my curly hair and my curves and if he could he would ditch his boys and come hug me or just stare at me but he knows I need space and space is essential in a relationship. My sweet boy would ask anybody walking our way to take a picture of both of us so that if anything happens to him, he will not just remember to love me, but seeing both of us will show us how deeply he cared for me. My sweet boy has a parent with dementia which scar him, so he can't seem to go a day without writing me a letter, taking a picture or telling me ‘’I love u’’ . His words : ‘’ I will never forget to love you. You hear me ( your name), I will  forget how to breathe before I forget you’’. My sensitive baby is always so emotional. Never afraid of letting the tears flow. Always expressing to anyone who wants to hear him how much he loves me even when  the conversation has nothing to do with me ( ME: lol). It was so hard to make my way back into his family and friend group which I understood when I saw him again. He lost weight, he had such huge under eye bags and yet he called my name with much sweetness. I heard from  the grapevine, he drank so much more trying to make it hurt less and his friend would hide his phone because he would try to text me and call me. Which would end up with him sobbing (not u trying to keep it in… Is ok baby …). One day, I allowed him back. He asks for a hug, pleads for it,  promising that after that he would forever leave me alone. If that's what I wanted. I hugged him, cried, he cried, holding on strongly to me while comforting me and I promise myself to never ever let go again. 

(HIM: BABE … BABE … you can come out … I have a surprise for you. You can't answer because you are still crying and you don't want him to worry. HIM : (he knocks) Babe are u ok ? Can I enter ? Talk to me … baby ..; You open the door mascara running) 

Couple days before you let him see you again, you're going to make out with another boy. Claiming you are ready for something new. When the boy will try to make a move on your inner thigh, you will panic. I even think that you will kiss him, a loud voice in your mind will remind you how wrong it is. Also you are an amazing kisser but babe this is a very poor performance … I feel bad for the dude making out with you. Too much lips (is that even possible) and too much tongue. 

Your future husband loves kissing your whole body as a form of foreplay. Love caressing you, always checking up on you while sharing the intimate moment with you. Even when his inside you and your eyes are close, he makes sure that you feel good. He always checks your mannerism to make sure he isn't hurting you. Y’all dirty talking is more like love making affirmation. Is it not dirty or degrading, still very sexy but is more emotional than vulgar. 

Y’all were raised in different ways. You both have similar financial background but different parenthood. When I channel him, everything around him is orange and yellow. I can clearly see his friend and I can feel the love of his parents. There's a warmth that radiates from him. Also he grew up seeing his parents very much in love. The fact that their love survives the illness of one of them is like an ultimate confirmation that he wants the same for himself. He always wanted marriage, the house, kids and dogs, let's not forget the close group of friends. It will not surprise me if in one of his graduation speeches he commented, only really caring  about finding a wife. On your side is a light cold blue. Maybe your childhood bedroom was painted blue. The house is cold, so you may enjoy staying by yourself. Side note : U is very pretty. I know you may be tired of hearing that but babe your beauty is too strong for me to just move on. Actually for anyone to move on. Anyways back on track, your parents were never home busy with their career. Like you grew up on your own, no noise, lonely silence. Still very financially stable. Is not like they're working to keep a roof over your head. I think they told you multiple times in some way shape or form  that their career is more important than you. 

[beescrafting]

Through heaven and hell...

Price is now retired... Living in a slow town with a small population further up in England's more rural area.

During one night at the pub and a near PTSD attack, he finds himself talking to a gentleman named Nikolai.

______

Life was slow now. With creaking old joints, pains from active duty, John found himself in a small little town far out into the country side of England.

It was quiet.

It is nice.

It was boring.

Compared to the normal loudness of a battle feild, the gunfire, the yelling, the bombs... Then again those silent missions... Either way John found himself bored out of his mind.

Theirs only so much a man can do with gardening or trying to learn how to knit.

So alot of the time, he found himself jogging and working out, doing small jobs with helping the community, and then drinking.

This is where John found himself every Friday night, at the pub at the edge of town. It's not the most popular pub, but its a good one.

That's where John found himself right now. Sitting in a corner of the bar, cradling a whiskey to drink.

The bar was briming with life, from workers taking a moment to calm down for the week ended talking with friends and watching sports, to some young men on a few dates with their girlfriends or boyfriends.

This town truly was something else.

Drinking his whiskey John sighed. The noise in the background was slowly startling to frazzle out, sounding like background noise as he more focused on the tv. It was a program about a war going on...

John tapped his finger against the table slightly, taking a deep breath. He was starting to hear the voices of the men he failed to keep alive... The men who died by his side due to his faults.

Their screams of pain over the coms as they suffered and died by the enemies hands.

The sound of gun fire and bombing ringing in his ear it was-

"are you an angel, because I want to pray to you~" A thick russian accent suddenly broke his train of thought from such a wild thing to say.

John turned to face the man only to be met by a older gentleman with a smirk amongst his face. His stuble was nice it really brought out a strong mans exterior if you were to ask anyone.

"pardon?" John said raising a brow as he studied the man.

"ha sorry, just trying to get you out of that head of yours мой друг" (мой друг = my friend) the man said while taking a seat next to John. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket with some jeans and a nice random t-shirt from something John didn't know. "My name is Nikolai, friends call me nik, and you are?" The man- no... Nikolai asked.

"John... John Price" john replied back, he found himself smiling slightly, he had been lacking a bit with human connection lately after all... And John had a feeling Nik understood him more then he let on.

"well John, care to explain what's got you stuck in that brain of yours?" Nik asked leaning a bit closer after ordering for another round for the pair. Another Whiskey and a cherry vodka.

Mhm very nice.

Maybe this truly is what he needed, someone to talk to and drink with. He hadn't had much contact with anyone from his job in a bit, Ghost and Soap were still in the army serving under a new captain now no doubt, and Laswell had her wife and job in the CIA...

"Well, I use to be in the army" John mumbled before talking more to Nik about what it was like, he and nik both learned a few things from one another. They truly had alot in common.

~~~

This is just the intro for what's going to be started, its not very long but its a ground breaker for what I have planned. Thank you for reading, and if you wish to be tagged for me updates to this, then please let me know, and if you have any questions my ask's are always opened! Their will be other updates too other then short little writings such as art, thoughts, and chapter idea's. I do hope you enjoy this project among the many more I'm work on. - Bee

but i do think i know of two people who'd like this, @panchulien and @hexxedghost ,w,

[marvelrivalsimagines]

I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, and a large soda.

Memes aside, could you do 🥰🫀🍒 for Storm, Luna Snow, and Black Widow?

Love your work and Happy Valntines Day!

Thanks for cooking so hard as well!

I feel like a drive through worker taking these orders /j Happy Valentines day to you too, thank you so much for the kind words :) Also this is pretty long so it's going under a read more :3

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

When Natasha first realizes she actually has a crush on someone, she’s taken aback by her own emotions for a bit. From her time in the Red Room and even in her current work she’s gotten used to faking emotions and faking love as a means of getting what she needs for the mission. But this is real and rare and honestly a bit intimidating, and that actually manages to throw the capable spy off for a few days. 

Luckily with all of her training Natasha is able to hide her nerves and the fact that she’s now actually a bit flustered around you. Her mind has always been sharp but around you it becomes hard to focus. The normally composed Black Widow takes a few moments to think of her words. Her actions around you seem more stilted as opposed to her usual fast instincts. 

Natasha knows that with her training and skills she could probably seduce just about anyone, but that’s not the real her. It’s just an act to manipulate a target, and you’re not a target, you’re a person she cares deeply about. She wants you to be in love with the real her, not some act she puts on. So, while it’s hard not to turn on the charm around you, Natasha commits herself to pursuing you like a ‘normal’ person would. Or as close to normal as a super spy can get. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

Natasha is extremely good at reading other people, to the point where she might know that you’re upset before you even realize it. Since she’s able to recognize your emotions so quickly, most likely before you want to talk about anything, she’ll start by doing something small for you. For example, she’ll make you your favorite drink and just silently leave it with you so you have some alone time to process your emotions. Once you are ready to talk to her or if you need some physical comfort, Natasha is ready for you with open arms. 

Sometimes Natasha has a rough day when memories of the Red Room resurface. It’s hard for her to push the the memories and thoughts out of her head once they appear, so Natasha really appreciates it when you can help distract her. Her favorite way of being comforted is laying down in your arms as you talk to her about whatever, it could literally just be you rambling about your day. It’s very grounding for her to just lay in your arms and let your warmth and voice drown out the memories. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Natasha arguably has the most experience with romantic relationships and intimacy out of all of the rivals cast. In her decades as a super spy she seduced countless people for personal gain, but she has also had genuine flings and relationships with other heroes. Natasha absolutely knows what she’s doing with you, and that confidence is definitely noticeable when you two are together. If you feel intimidated by how much confidence she has, Nathasha is extremely understanding. She’s happy to take it slow with you, or help you gain more confidence together ;)

In terms of any special skills, Natasha has literal training in how to seduce people. End of headcannons, let your imagination carry you-

But seriously, with just a few weeks of dating Natasha is able to become an expert in just how to get you going. She can tell just from your body language where and how you prefer to be kissed, when you want her to be a bit rougher with you, or how to make an excited shiver run up your spine with just one touch. Of course that doesn’t stop her from asking you questions she already knows the answer to just to see you get flustered. And, of course, it’s never a good idea to lie to the super spy. 

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

Luna is much more bold when she has a crush. While other people might try to keep their feelings secret and wait to see any signs that you like them back, once Luna knows that she really likes you she is going all in. She’s always followed her heart, and if her heart is telling her that she wants to be with you she’s not going to sit around and wait for something to happen. 

You get so much special treatment from her. You get the best seats to her shows, previews of her upcoming music, and if you're also a hero you get healing as soon as you have the tiniest scratch. 

When Luna has a crush on you you’re on her mind almost 24/7, and she’ll do her best to figure out ways to include you in whatever she’s doing. She has to pick up some groceries, want to get your shopping done together? You weren’t assigned to it but she’d feel so much safer if you join her on her next mission!

It’s probably pretty obvious to everyone around you that she likes you, some people might even assume that you’re both already together. If you’re seemingly oblivious to all of Luna’s flirting she honestly finds it endearing, especially if it’s clear that you like her back. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

When Luna notices you’re upset, her goal is to try and make you smile or laugh. Even if it’s just a small smile, Luna will make a really bad joke to lift your spirits a little and hopefully break up any negative spiral you might be in. Of course if the situation is really serious, Luna can read the room and understand you may need to cry or just experience those negative emotions before you move on. In that case Luna will be there to give you a comforting hug, not wanting you to feel alone while you’re hurting.  

When Luna is upset, her night will instantly improve if you set up a little night in for the both of you. Luna’s most common source of frustration is just how many expectations are placed on her as a pop star and a hero. So to have you take some time to set up something small for her would make Luna feel so appreciated. Just some takeout and a movie together on the couch is all she needs to start to release some of the tension that was building up in her shoulders. Oh and of course some kisses from you are required too. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Luna has a lot of admirers as an international pop star, but her main focus has always been on her two careers. That’s not to say that Luna is totally inexperienced, she’s been in a couple relationships before, but she’s probably less experienced than you might think an international pop star would be. But that doesn’t mean that Luna is shy, she’s actually really excited to experience anything that might be new with you. In the beginning of your relationship there’s definitely an intense honeymoon period where Luna just wants to do everything with you. 

With Luna’s ice powers, she’s a bit reckless with where she gives you hickeys. When you’re making out her kisses will trail high up on your neck where no reasonable collar would be able to cover the now brightly colored skin. After you lightly complain that you’re not going to be able to cover up the marks she gave you, she’s able to use her powers to make her hands personal ice packs to help soothe the bruises. It’s the best of both worlds, she gets to give you all the hickies she wants and gets to gently hold you as you cuddle afterwards. 

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

Storm is also someone who’s going to pursue you more directly. She knows that time is a precious resource, and she’s never been the kind of person to just sit by. However, Storm also greatly respects your autonomy, she knows it’s not a given that you’ll like her back. So her flirting will be subtle at first as she tries to pick up on any hints that you may like her back. 

Storm likes giving you soft flirtatious touches. She’s a big fan of the classic “Let me fix your hair”, or sitting down very close next to you so you brush up against each other. Her touch is always light and gentle just in case it’s not wanted, but she has a warm smile on her face as she notices you subconsciously lean into her. 

If you’re a fellow hero Storm would love to train or exercise with you. She appreciates any one on one time she gets with you, but there’s just so much opportunity to flirtatiously tease you when you’re both working out together. Plus, Storm can’t help but show off her strength a bit in hopes of impressing you. While she does offer you practical advice, there are a lot of double entendres and charged touches. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

Storm is a great listener and with her own variety of life experiences she gives really great advice if you’d like some. Storm's presence never feels judgemental, no matter what state you’re in or what you’re upset about. But Storm has a hard time sitting still when someone she cares about has a problem. She’ll always ask if there’s anything she can do for you after you’re done speaking. Even if you say no she’ll still try and do something small whether that's getting you a snack or cleaning your living space a bit; just anything she thinks will help alleviate any of your stress. 

Storm enjoys having a bit of space at first when she’s upset, she just needs some time to calm herself down alone because she can be easily irritated when she’s upset. Once she isn’t afraid of accidentally being snappy with you, she enjoys talking to you about whatever her problem is. Even if you don’t have any advice, Storm finds it useful to say her thoughts out loud because it helps her think of what she should do next. Storm also really appreciates it if you cuddle her while she talks/rants at you lol. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Storm also has a good amount of experience with relationships and being intimate with people. While she’s confident in her skills, she doesn’t outwardly display that, and she especially never acts cocky about it. While she’s been with other people in the past, every intimate act the two of you do is new in Storm’s eyes as you’re a unique person. Storm is great at uplifting you if you ever feel nervous or insecure. Despite Storm being the Goddess, she frequently makes you feel like you’re being worshiped. 

If you’re into strong, dominant women (which lets be real if you’re dating Storm you are) Storm has plenty of experience with being in charge. She’s strong and gentle, never demeaning or rude, but a firm hand that guides you in all the right directions. Even when she’s being dominant and maybe a bit rough, Storm just has this presence that you can’t help but trust completely. You might get a little zap if you’re being a tease though. 

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 14 - Minerva McGonagall | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,563 Part 2 of Medical Apprentice James AU Part 1

“Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to you about your apprenticeship with me, James.” Poppy hums, stirring the pain draught she’s cooking up, “She said that she would be visiting here in about ten minutes, I would appreciate it if you went out and waited for her and anyone else that may come in.” James nods, thanks the woman, and goes back out into the main area of the medical area. They take a moment to check up on the few students they currently have in bed, making sure they don’t need anything. 

McGonagall comes in not long after, striding straight towards James, “Would you mind meeting with me and Madam Pomfrey, Mister Potter?” James nods and tries not to show their nervousness as they stand and guide her into the back room once again. 

Madam Pomfrey has her potion simmering and is sitting at her little desk. She smiles at the two, gesturing to the chairs nearby. McGonagall goes to sit in the one nearest to her wife -- a trade secret that James only knows because he’s spent so much time with both of them and seen the way they visit each other -- and James taking the other one. 

“I apologize for the last minute meeting,” McGonagall starts, “And I bid you not worry about this, James. I bring you good news.” She accios a couple sheets of paper, putting them onto the desk in a way that James can read them, “You did excellent on your tests and your apprenticeship application and papers, I must say that it is nice to see you actually applying your intelligence for something beneficial, and I have spent time discussing with the Headmaster and Professor Slughorn. We’ve all come to the agreement that you will be fully beginning a higher level apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey and therefore will be permitted to perform low level healing spells only without moderation,” a pointed look, James doesn't blame her for it, “I understand that you and your friends are consistently worried about Lupin’s health and therefore I have gotten you permission to work with Madam Pomfrey to find her process for his healing and therefore can heal him within your dorm in three month’s time.” What wonderful news, James almost preens at the information and compliments, feeling themself get jittery at all of the news. They barely hold back exploding when they thank her, meeting the woman’s composed smile with a brilliant one of their own. 

“I know that you will do good in this world, James.” McGonagall finishes up with, then she stands, sends a softer smile to Poppy, and excuse herself from the room.

As soon as she’s gone, James whips their head around to look at the healer, “Did you know about this?” 

“Of course I did, James.” She smiles, standing up and walking to them, putting her hand on their shoulder, “I was part of the conversation. I’m excited to teach you even more than I have and see you learn to help people safely.” James doesn’t comment that she knows about them, and other students, healing each other already. That doesn’t matter here. 

Something in the room goes off to inform them that someone walked into the medical room and the woman grins at them, “I need to finish up with the draught, can you handle that?” James nods and thanks her, standing up and heading out of the room. 

They don’t let their shock show when the two waiting for them are Sirius and… Regulus? James is immediately on alert, “What happened?” 

Sirius looks at them with an indecipherable look, “Can we get Regulus a bed first?” James nods and goes to open up a clean area, watching Sirius guide his brother into the bed. Then he’s sitting down as far away from him as possible while James grabs a new sheet, sitting down next to the bed. They charm a quill and gesture for Sirius to go on, “We were doing a little brotherly bonding in the form of quidditch, you know how you suggested that we talk while doing a hobby we both enjoy? Yeah, and there was a bit of an accident.” 

“An accident, how?” 

“We were…” Sirius hums, his face going a bit red. 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “We were provoking each other and I stopped paying as much attention as I should’ve and got injured.” 

“You’re going to have to specify.” 

Regulus goes into talking about what happened and James nods, “I know that you’re protective about your modesty, but you’re going to have to take your shirt off for me so I can check the bruises and get a look at your ribs.” There’s a moment of hesitation, with Regulus and Sirius seemingly exchanging a nonverbal conversation. Before Regulus sighs and goes to pull up his shirt while James gives him some privacy and closes the curtains to his area. They don’t make a comment on the scars under Regulus’ chest, instead they hum and take in the colouration of his skin. They get into their examination, gently testing Regulus’ ribs and running a couple spells to look into it. 

When they finish with their cursory report, they go to get a pain draught for him and hand it off to him while they ensure that they know the spells that they’re needing to cast. It’s only then does Sirius ask, “Wait, you’re actually allowed to do spells now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

James smiles at him, “It’s only something that’s been established for about ten minutes. There’s more to it that I’ll tell you later.” They check to see if the pain draught has started to kick in for Regulus before pointing their wand at him, reassuring him that they’re healing him and have no intent to harm, then casting the spell. Regulus grits his teeth and shuts his eyes but doesn’t otherwise say anything. 

James informs the brothers that Regulus is going to have to stay until at least the end of the day so he can be watched. They tell Sirius to go off with Remus and reassure him that they’ll give him the most recent update when they get back to the dorm later in the day. 

Sirius leaves reluctantly, leaving James and Regulus alone. James goes to put his information sheet on the post nearby while Regulus puts his shirt back on. They ask if he needs anything and goes to update Poppy before checking on the others in the infirmary. 

Surprisingly enough, Regulus is still awake when they go back, and he has a book with him that James didn’t see him walk in with. James hums, “I hate to interrupt your reading, but I have to check up on you.” They hold out the pot of bruise salve that they have for him, “I can apply this or you can, but it’ll help with your bruises.” 

Regulus hums, “I doubt that you hate to interrupt me, you love to inconvenience my life.” James grins at him but they don’t say anything, just venture further into the space while Regulus bookmarks his book and sets it to the side, taking the salve from their hands. 

Neither of them talk while Regulus works to slowly apply it to his skin, his shirt brought up to just rest on his shoulders with James holding it for him. Until Regulus hums, “Sirius was telling me that you’ve been coming in here and helping out Madam Pomfrey for a while, why are you actually interested in healing?” 

James hums, their eyes going foggy even if they’re gazing at him, “I always thought that I wanted to be an Auror, but my pita is a potions maker, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. He tried so hard to get me into potions but it didn’t really work, until I-” they shake their head, “There are some things that I can’t tell you about, but I’ve been helping and learning healing spells and potions recipes for my friends, specifically Remus and Sirius for a long time, and… I realised that I like healing people and medical potions are just the right amount of complicated and simple for me to remember them well. So I talked to Poppy about helping her and went through the process to start here.” They hum, “I get that it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the idea that I want to help people, but-”

“I can believe it.” Regulus says, quiet. They put the lid back on the salve and hand it back to them. James lets his shirt drop and they lean back in their chair, “I didn’t- I didn’t believe it before, but I’ve been talking to Sirius and it’s come up a couple times. He’s mentioned that you- that you’re usually the one to help him when we come back from break so he didn’t have to think about casting healing spells right… Thank you, for taking care of him.” 

James smiles softly, “It’s- everyone needs someone to take care of them, and my parents taught me how to be that person.” They shrug with one shoulder, then stand up, “I’ll come check on you soon. If you need a pain draught, you can always call for Poppy or me.” Regulus nods and they slip out of the room, closing the curtain behind them.

[softxsuki]

Hi hi hi

I'm here to submit my ask for your Valentine Event if I'll make it to the 10 lucky people 🥹

I'd love to get a letter from Caleb (Love and Deepspace) with him writing to us from the Skyhaven/military with us not seeing him for months due to his work, and him promising to come back soon. I'd love for him to call me Pipsqueak (his nickname for in-game mc) or/and Princess if the first one won't fit the letter vibe.

We would have a long established relationship (with a lot of crushing on the other as teens hehe) let's say that I'm 23 and him 25 (his current age) living together, I'd love fluffy letter with him talking about how much he misses me (and our kid aka the cat) and teasing me about my cooking skills promising to take care of me soon ~ and for reader please do female :3

If I'm missing any information please dm me :^ (and sorry-)

If I won't get to the event still thank you for reading this, have a nice day 💜

Caleb's Love Letter to His Girlfriend

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Caleb x Fem!Reader | Genre: Fluff? Idk | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 510|

Warnings: missing a loved one?

Note: My first ever Love and Deepspace request! Was super excited for this! Though…I haven’t had a chance to read any of the new Caleb chapters (I’m very much behind) but I love the guy. Hopefully I did his character justice! LND is my hyper-fixation at the moment. Happy Valentine’s Day! <3

You push open the door to your apartment, mail in hand–it had been an exhausting day of chasing and fighting wanderers. With a sigh, you kick the door closed with your foot, making sure it was locked, Caleb’s voice running through your mind with reminders of making sure you always locked it behind you.

Oh Caleb–how much you missed him, just thinking about him makes your heart ache. He had been away for a few months, back at the Skyhaven for business. Sure, you spoke over the phone and texted each other when time allowed it, but nothing could compare to actually having him with you.

You throw yourself on the couch, your apartment faintly lit by the floor lamp in the corner of the living room. Your kitty makes herself comfortable on your lap, clearly missing you after you’d been out all day. She lets out a quiet purr, snuggling up to you as you mindlessly pet her. 

Your attention moves to the stack of mail in your hands. Flicking through each envelope until a familiar name makes your eyes widen. You quickly sit up, abandoning the rest of your mail on the couch before quickly opening his letter;

To My Pipsqueak,

Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. Bet you didn’t expect to get this, huh? I’m hoping it arrived on time…if my math was right and there weren’t any delays with the mail, then you should be getting this on that lovely day of the year where couples celebrate their love together. Sadly, I’m many miles away from you, but I could at least send you a piece of my heart, which already belongs to you.

How are my girls doing? You and our little kitten; I miss you both very much…it’s too quiet and cold without you. I complain when I’ve only gone a few hours without you, so imagine how horrible it’s been being away from you for months? I’m at my limit, Princess. 

I’m sure you’ve been busy kicking wanderer butt, but I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Staying well rested and eating all your meals for the day…hopefully you haven’t burned the place down yet. I’m kidding…mostly. Me and my cooking will be back very soon to take care of my girl. Just a little longer and I’ll be back by your side. Until then, stay safe, and stay out of trouble. I’m not around to drag you out of it, so be good. I love you, always.

Yours,

Caleb.xx

You don’t even realize the small smile splayed across your lips as you finish reading and re-reading his letter. Such an old-fashioned form of communication, hardly anyone sends handwritten letters anymore, that form of communication was long buried with the past, way before wanderer’s appeared on earth.

Soon.

You only had to hang in there a little longer before he’d be back. You could do that.

“Your daddy will be back with us soon, honey,” you whisper to the kitten in your lap who lets out a little meow almost in acknowledgement. Only a little longer…

Posted: 2/14/2025

[darthannie]

assess and discuss

part three of thesis statement

(part II here)

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Word count: 2,860

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), fluffy, kissing, mentions of submission

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's my gift to you. Sorry updates have been slow. I'm really trying! There's not really any smut in this one. It's all plot and fluff baby! I hope you enjoy.

It’s been a week since your’ve seen him and a week since you’ve spoken to him. You’ve been counting the days on your calendar as they went by. 

You skipped out on class yesterday, deciding you couldn’t face him just yet. But, there was no way of avoiding him today. That was one of the benefits of taking both of his seminars this term. Usually seeing him twice a week made getting up in the morning worth it. Now, it felt like a death sentence. 

He’s texted you since you last saw him. He asked how you were and if you’d thought about what he said to you. Then it was radio silence. In all honesty, you had thought about it and you wanted to take him up on it. Setting boundaries was important, you thought and that could only happen if you sat down and laid it all out. You felt you had to tell him in person. So here you were, on campus on a Friday morning, coffee in hand and ready to mention having that conversation. Having that conversation in the classroom was a bit uncooth, so you thought it better to ease into it. You didn’t want anyone suspecting anything. Not admin, not your classmates, not even Nadia but you knew that wasn’t an option. She was the first person to know what was going on. You told each other everything. 

You walked into an empty classroom and took your usual seat. After a few minutes you were finally all set up and were browsing on your laptop. Nadia arrived a couple minutes into you scrolling on Etsy. 

“Hey! I thought you fell off the face of the earth I haven’t heard from you.”

“Hey, Nadia. Sorry, I’ve just been kinda preoccupied.” In reality you had been isolating. The time you spent with Jim left you with a large weight on your conscience. Not only did you have your heavy course load to keep in mind, you had this force looming over you. Him. You had no idea what to make of it. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She was always genuine when she said things like this. She missed you and hated when you pulled away but she knew it was better to give you space. 

“God, yes, I need to talk about it.”

“Spill.” 

In a hushed voice you began. “We saw each other and we...”

“You and Jim?” Yiou nodded at her words. The excitement on her face was easy to place. She was thrilled for you. 

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Yes fuckin’ way.” 

“Is that why he cancelled class?”

“Yep.” 

“YOU’RE KIDDING.” Nadia’s eyebrows rose and she leaned forward as the door behind her opened up. Jim walked in wearing a white oxford shirt tucked into tailored pants. He looked rather put together, and you couldn’t help but swallow nernously. Your attraction to him was undeniable. 

Nadia turned to see who walked in and faced you again, covering her mouth, and noting that she was a bit too loud. 

“Oops,” she said. 

“Nadia…,” I replied, less of a warning and more of a suggestion to keep it cool.

“Good morning, ladies.” Jim nonchallantly addressed you and Nadia as he settled in. 

“Hi, Jim,” Nadia chirped, “Was everything alright last week?” She asked it innocently enough, but you knew she was trying to rustle your feathers. 

“Oh, yeah, just a family emergency.”

“Oh no, is everything alright?” Nadia elbowed your arm and smirked. You hit her arm and he turned around to face the two of you. 

“Yes, everything’s alright now. Just had to help my sister with her kids.”

“Right, well I’m glad to hear it’s everything is alright.” Nadia smiled at him politely. 

He smiled back and then turned his attention to you. He said, “And, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Your skin felt hot. He looked nervous.

“Listen, I was reading over the piece you sent me and I have some suggestions. I think with a bit of work we, you, could submit for publication.” You had forgotten that you had even sent him your work. He reminded you to before you left his home and now you were glad that he did. 

“Really?”

He nodded. “See me after, we’ll go though it quickly.”

“Well, alright.” You sank into your seat and looked at Nadia. She gave you a knowing look as more stidents started to file in.

What followed was an hour and fourty-five minutes of avoidance. You participated as usual but there was no usual back and fort between the two of you. The bare minimum was what you wanted to give and it was what you achieved. 

Class ended and a couple peers stayed after to discuss their notes with Jim. You and Nadia milled about talking about going out later that night. You got distracted and watched as Jim talked to his students about their work. His passion for teaching was so apparent, it made you feel almost proud watching him. You smiled to yourself and turned your attention to Nadia again, agreeing to a time to meet for pres at a local bar before going dancing.

She left and the student who was talking to Jim left right behind her. Jim walked over to the door and looked through the window. There was no one in the hall. You were stood away from the door and as you began to speak about the essay you sent when you felt his hands grab your face and pull you towards him. He laned a small kiss before you pushed him away slightly. 

“Cameras,” you whisper shouted.

“Old building. There are none in this room.” 

You stared at him, sedated by his kiss. When his words registered it was your turn to pull him in, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him hard. He walked you backward until your back hit the wall. Jim’s hardening cock pressed against you. He pulled away and clearned this throat, realising he needed to calm down.

“You, um, wanted to talk to me about my work?” The eye contact you held was sharp, intimate. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he stepped back and walked towards his things, grabbing a manila folder and handing it to you. My annotations and comments are all in there. All five essays. They’re good. Really damn good.”

“Thank you. I’m excited to look over them.”

“I look forward to reading the next drafts.” 

You stared at each other for a moment before you both developed smiles. You were almost to the point of giggiling. This was fun. It had never occured to you that what you two were doing could be fun. Genuine fun. A small laugh escaped your lips and you looked towards the ground. 

“Jim, we need to talk about this.” You looked back up at him, hopeful that he would be receptive. 

“Come over tonight. We’ll be able to talk all about it.” Jim chuckled and got close to you lifted your chin so your eyes met his. 

“I’m seeing Nadia tonight. We’re going out.”

“See me before you go out then. We’ll have a good time.”

“Doing what?” You tried to bait him by getting close to his face, your lips almost meeting his.

“Just talking.”

“Right. Just talking.” You rolled your eyes and he moved his hand to caress your neck. 

“I’m serious. We’re just talking,” his thumb smoothed over your cheek as he continued, “I’m not going any further until we decide on what exactly this is and how we’re going to go about it. Is that okay?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you replied, “Yes.”

Then, rather nonchalantly, he replied, “Good girl.” He pecked you on the lips and pulled away from you, turning to grab his things. 

“I have office hours now, so I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smile and walked towards the door. He paused right as his hand reached the handle and turned back to you, rushing over and kissing you again. 

“Bye,” he whispered against your lips.

You kissed him again and let out a laugh, “I’ll text you.”

He kissed you once more and replied, “Good.” He turned again and, this time, allowed himself to exit the room. 

Later that night, you knocked on his door wearing a black halter top and short skirt. Around your waist was a thin silver chain belt that laid perfectly over the dark red skirt. You and Nadia had decided to go to a local club for “Latin Night”, which meant Ireland’s finest (you and Nadia included) would be drunkenly attempting to keep up with Bad Bunny’s cadance. After a couple drinks your words weren’t as coordinated as your hips. Nadia left the club with an old flame, but made sure you safely got into a car you called. Now, here you were, sobering up in front of Jim’s door. Hoping he opened it soon because you didn’t feel like waiting on the club’s bathroom line. 

The door opened and he was still wearing the clothes you saw him in earlier. “Are you drunk?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m halfway to sober. Can I use the bathroom?” You held in a giggle, you didn’t know why you wanted to laugh. Perhaps part of it was the fact you imagined kissing him, but the idea of him tasting the liquor on you made you stop. 

He moved out of the way and you practivally ran by him and towards the bathroom.

“Do you have mouthwash?”, you shouted as you jogged to the bathroom and closed the door. 

“Yes, I do. In the cabinet. Why do you need mouthwash?”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

After a couple minutes of making yourself presentable again, you exited the bathroom and made your way towards Jim. 

“So, how was your night out w-“ You cut him off with a hard kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair.

He pulled away after kissing you back, “Is that why you wanted the mouthwash?” You nodded and hummed “mhm” before trying to kiss him again. He pulled back. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, you’re not sober.” He walked into the kitchen and poured you a glass of water. “Drink.” He placed it down on the counter in front of you. You looked between him and the glass. He pushed the glass towards you. “I said, drink.”

You smirked and grabbed the glass, chugging half of it. “Happy?” 

He leaned with both his hands bracing on the counter. “We’re not having the conversation we need to have until the morning. I need you one hundred percent sober.”

“Fine.” 

“Finish your water.” 

“Jim, I’m okay, seriously.”

He walked around the bar in the kitchen and grabbed the glass on his way towards you. He held the glass against your lips. 

“Drink.”, he whispered. You placed your hand on top of his and tilted the glass. You drank every last drop. 

“Good girl. Now come, you can’t be comfortable in that dress and those shoes.” He went to the dresser in his bedroom and dug around for some pajama pants and a t-shirt for you to wear. You followed him and leaned against the door frame. 

“Do you like taking care of me?” You tilted your head, challenging him.

A blush started to grow on his cheeks. He placed the clothes on the bed near you and stood back. You put your bag down on the floor, kicked off your shoes, and started the take off your shirt. “You don’t want to do that in the bathroom?” He couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You finished taking of your shirt and you reached over to grab the t-shirt he picked out for you. It was a Fleetwood Mac tee. You pulled it over your head and removed your skirt before grabbing the black lounge pants he gave you. He watched your every move, studying how steady your movements were and how you lost your balance slightly while putting the pants on. 

“You’re staying over, if that wasn’t clear already.” 

“How chivelrous.” 

“I’m serious. Do you need anything else before getting into bed?”

“I want to wash my face.” You started walking towards the bathroom. “Do you have any face wash?”

“In the shower, love.”

“God, of course you fucking do.”

As much as he wished he could have that conversation with you, he loved seeing this side of you. He found you curt and pointed in the best way possible. Upon your arrival back to the bedroom you found him fixing up the bed, more specifically your side of the bed. He had set a bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. For when you wake up, he said. 

You hadn’t expected him to take this much care of you. You think he found pleasure in it, and yet he ignored your question about it when you asked. You got into bed without a word and he followed on the other side. 

“Thanks for setting up my emergency morning kit.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled, “I don’t want you to suffer in the morning.”

“Well, you know, I don’t get hangovers. I think it’s impossible for me.”

“Oh, that cannot be true.” He turned on his side to face you. 

You stayed on your back, looking up at the ceiling, “No, it’s true, I never do. I guess I never drink enough to get hungover. And I have people forcing me to drink water constantly. Not just you, Nadia too.”

He hummed in understanding. Silence covered you both, only your staggered breath could be heard as you gave into rigid stillness. The reality of what was happening was starting to set in. You were fucking your professor and now he was taking care of you after a night out. “What the fuck am I doing?”, you thought. The moral implications of what was happening seemed more real now that you felt him reach for your hand. He squeezed it to try and get your attention. It was only now you realize that he had been saying your name repeatedly, trying to get your attention. It startled you and you pulled your hand away. 

“What?”, you sounded scared when you asked. 

“Tell me what’s running through your head.” He sat up now, trying to add a bit of urgency to his soft command.

Your mouth opened and no words came out. You shut it.

“I need to hear what’s going through your head.” He took a chance and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand.

“I just,” you started, “I feel weird. Like I’m dirty and doing something wrong. I’ve never been with someone older than me and I’ve never been cared for or told what to do. It’s all new to me. Too new. But, the issue is that I love it. I want it more than anything.”

“Come here,” he gestured to his lap, “and don’t worry, no funny business. Just come here.”

You stratled him and met him face to face. He held your face in his hands. “Look at me,” you tried your hardest not to, “Hey, hey, look at me. I need your eyes on me.” You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them and being drawn in by his. 

“I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you feel uncomforable with me in the bed tonight just say the word and I’ll sleep on the couch. I… I understand your apprehension. But give us- this a chance.”

You took in his words before nodding slowly, “Okay.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I want this. Really, really bad.” You started to move your hips and his hands left your face, and firmly stopped your hips.

“Not now, this isn’t what this is about.”

You looked down at your arms, now crossed over your body, feeling slightly repremanded. If he didn’t want sex from you all the time, then what did he want?

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered only for you to hear even though not another soul ever would, “I want you to submit to me willingly. Not because you feel that you have to.”

You felt your eyes water and a single tear fell. You pulled back and quickly wiped it away. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. It’s a lot.”

“It feels like more than hooking up with my professor now.”

“Good. It should.”

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips, “Can we cuddle?”

“Of course, love.” 

You got off of his lap and he reached to turn off the only lamp on in his room, the one on his bedside. He laid down and opened his arms for you. You fit perfectly against him. You laid a hand on his chest and got comfortable in the crook of his neck. He held as if you would run away. 

“Thank you, Jim.”

“For?”, he stroked your arm before wrapping his arm around it. 

“For caring.”

[anomaly-076]

Anyone seeing you receive your letter would think you're weird at the very least, but for some reason the specific colors of the peculiar stains reminded you of the cooking of a certain ghoul. And sure enough, after opening the envelope, a very sharp and distinct handwriting reads:

Hey Y/N, The himbo approved my R&R. If you want, you can come help me close the truck early and we can go for a drive anywhere you wanna go. - Sho

Thanks to helping out with Sho's food truck, you know the opening and closing times by heart. You even knew when to leave your room to make it just in time for Sho to open/close.

The campus is way more busier than usual and so it's no wonder, that there's still a few people waiting for their order despite the official closing time being 10 minutes ago.

A mischievous idea pops int your head and while trying to stifle your giggle you move to stand at the end of the queue.

Once you finally get to the window, Sho doesn't even notice you with how focused he is on preparing all the delicious food.

Not long after, the customer before you finishes ordering and steps away to wait for it alongside their date.

"Hi, sorry, it's kinda busy... What can i get you?" Sho asks you, barely turning his head to the side while turned away to arrange an order into a takeout box, thinking you're another customer.

"Uhm... Well, I believe I have a free bike ride on the house." you gingerly bite your tongue so you can get through your mind-rehearsed line, while in the queue, without laughing.

The sound of your voice makes Sho freeze for a second before quickly turning to you with that teasing smirk of his.

"Oh yeah? I'll have to ask the boss about it then." he goes along with your friendly role-play.

"Mhm... But make sure to tell him that if he takes too long, I won't be waiting. He's very lucky I picked him out of all the other Like Dove mail I got this past month." you fully lean into your role by relaxing against the side of the truck while disinterestedly inspecting your nails.

Sho laughs and turns his head to the side as if he's looking at someone else in the empty food truck while slightly bending down to pick something up from a lower shelf.

"Oh hey... Boss says i should give you these and to tell you that if you don't help out with the last few orders, he won't take you anywhere." the ghoul laughs and hands you a little gift bag with some of your favorite sweets as well as some other little gifts.

[koalaforlife]

So it's been a while since I've read the manga

And because of that and some comments I came across lately (e.g. one analysis about Mikasa showing more development in the manga but being reduced to Ereeeh in the anime) I am thinking I need to go back and re-read it especially now that I have such a different perspective on things and not only do I tolerate and understand some characters better than I ever did when I first read it (looking at you, Floch, still despicable AF but hey I get you, homie) but also I'm sure there were things that the (less-wise) me from 6 years ago missed out at that time.

However, for the sake of writing my thoughts down here as a journal and perhaps getting some quick answers from fans that have a better memory than I do, I will touch on a possibly controversial topic and, actually BECAUSE I have surrounded myself with Levihan fans, I am optimistic that I will get the answers I need, from people who can stay objective and see things as they are and not as they make them out to be.

I don't want to engage in any ship wars or dismiss the validity of any relationship. I'm just curious.

So I was watching some videos on character analyses and at some point I noticed how common it was to say that Levi and Erwin were best friends, Levi was incredibly loyal to Erwin, Erwin was Levi's rock, etc. And I for sure started out in this fandom with the same thought, but for the life of me now, I can't remember....Why?

People tend to say Erwin was Levi's best friend but now I can't help but think Levi had two best friends, Erwin and Hange. What part of Erwin and Levi's friendship got translated to ULTIMATE BFFS in the fandom?

Again, I am not looking to start a war, and even if I don't get an answer now, I'm sure I will when I re-read the manga, it will just take some time.

But here's what I thought, and only based on memories I have from either the anime (which I have revisited in the recent years, unlike the manga) and the levihan analysis posts I read a long time ago.

To me, judging by the way I've experienced the fandom, it almost looks like the friendship between Erwin and Levi was "told" for the most part, whereas Levi and Hange's was "shown."

Other than Levi deciding to follow Erwin because "he could see something he couldn't" (and of course, because Erwin's speech was that great, that enlightening, that motivating), other than him trusting Erwin's judgement each and every time because he knows his reasoning is flawless, other than the choice a heartbroken Levi makes (to put Erwin to rest)...I can only say these two were great friends because I remember fandom saying it for so long, so it feels like I was "told" they were great friends but the manga showed it only a few times. Interestingly enough though, even these few examples I mentioned are actually presented in the form of sentences uttered by none other than Levi, either as a monologue or in a dialogue.

Whereas with Hange and Levi, I can count already from the top of my head some of the instances that show a different dynamic, and hint at a close friendship as well. Their famous telepathy, the way Hange understands and translates Levi, the way she oversteps and he lets her, the way she was the first to treat him as a friend etc. And we see these from the interactions and conversations but never do we hear impactful or emotional monologues from Levi (regarding Hange).

How do I describe this? It feels to me that the ExL relationship is revealed mostly through Levi's words (and fandom's words - for now, until someone can remind me some other impactful scenes that hint otherwise) whereas the HxL relationship is revealed mostly through characters' dynamics.

Personally, what I want to believe, regardless of whatever the fuck Isayama wrote as canon, is that the three of them were besties, that Erwin and Hange were as great friends as ExL and HxL were and that is my ultimate headcannon and no one can convince me otherwise :D

Still, I was curious to know if other people shared the same experience of how the two relationships were portrayed, and if someone can remind me of some essential scenes that depicted ExL friendship because it's been so long that I don't remember anything else, and I don't want their canon friendship to be reduced to "they are best friends because people say so" for me.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Screaming from the crypt (or how the past haunts the present on Midnights)

I know it's been discussed so much since Midnights came out but just.

I love how there is such a clear narrative throughout the album (and perhaps especially on the 3am/Vault tracks). About questioning and regret and choices and coming to terms with all of it. It is one long story about how we're all a mosaic of the choices we make, each one taking something from us and leaving something else in its place.

(And now a disclaimer: I'm looking at this mostly through a narrator/subject lens, and trying not to dive too deeply into real-life events or speculation except for in a general sense. For this purpose I like to look at the body of work as art, like literature, because I find it makes it easier to see the common threads in the different songs and cohesion in the narrative.)

In looking at the 3am+ tracks in particular, it's fascinating how some turns of phrases or themes repeat themselves in different songs, in different contexts. (I'm only focusing on the non-standard tracks because there are too many songs and I'd be here all day but I bet I could do a part two lol.) I know many people have pointed out the parallels throughout her discography already and I’m not saying anything groundbreaking by writing this, but I love how these parallels run through in the same album, because it makes it seem like it's one long story, or at least, one long rumination on many different stories that are coalescing into a single narrative.

Battle (let’s go)

For instance, the one that jumped out at me when I started writing this post the other week was, "Tore your banners down, took the battle underground," in The Great War and "If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I," in Would've, Could've Should've. It's a story about staying stuck in the same cycle of reliving trauma and coping mechanisms and bad habits over and over again and fantasizing about how taking the “antagonist” out and gaining the upper hand for good would bring closure (WCS), but the truth is that nothing ever will. All that cycle does, though, is repeat itself in other situations, and in this case pushes someone away the narrator cares for (TGW). The difference is that the imagined battle in WCS is a two-way street in her mind (that is ultimately unwinnable because it was never a fair fight), but in TGW it's one-sided -- she's the one fighting dirty, taking shots, the way she'd been doing in her imagination (or nightmares) all these years. But the person in front of her isn't fighting back the way the person in her mind in WCS would, because their intentions are honourable instead of exploitative.

And that's paralleled in another pair of lyrics from the two songs, "And maybe it's the past talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did," (in TGW) and "The tomb won't close, I fight with you in my sleep," (in WCS). In both cases, the funeral imagery makes it seem like this past event should be dead and buried in WCS, but it keeps rising from the dead, haunting her no matter what she does and in TGW, another (or perhaps the same?) tomb that won't close keeps unleashing new ways to hurt her and in turn the new person in her life. In other words, the trauma from the past continues to bleed into the present.

(Again from a literary point of view, I'm not saying the events of the two songs are linked IRL, but they're fascinating textual parallels on the album as a string of chapters, which is why Dear Reader is so compelling, but that's a whole other essay.)

To keep the battle motif going, there’s yet another parallel, this time between TGW’s "[You were a] soldier down on that icy ground, looked up at me with honor and truth," and You’re Losing Me’s "All I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, fighting in only your army.” In the former, the subject is laying down his armour in the war she’s projecting onto him, waving the white flag, and she realizes that she’s about to destroy something if she doesn’t put her sword down too. By the time we get to YLM, the roles are almost reversed; at the very least they’re supposed to be on the same team, but in this case she’s doing all the heavy lifting, fighting for their relationship in contrast to his apathy killing it. It’s also pretty interesting (if not outright intentional) that one of the 3am+ editions of the albums starts with The Great War, where they find themselves in conflict (even if it’s in her head) that ends in a truce, and ends with You’re Losing Me signalling the end of the relationship, evidence that the resolution in the first song wasn’t an ending but merely a ceasefire before the last battle.

Putting the rest under a cut because this is waaaaay too long now ⤵️

(There’s also another metaphor there in The Great War with its battle imagery: World War I, aka The Great War, was supposed to be the war to end all wars, because loss on its scale was never seen before and when it ended, most thought never again would the world embroil itself in such battle, the horrors and implications were so devastating. Two decades later, the world found itself in WWII, with an even larger scope and more horrific consequences, the intervening time between the two a period of festering conflicts and resentment leading to some of the worst acts the world would see. Bringing real life into it for a second, there’s something a little poetic, though sad, about The Great War the song being about a fight that could have ended the relationship that they ultimately resolved and was meant to be evidence of the strength of their love, but so too did it end up being a period of détente, the greater battle coming for them years later. But that is not the point of this post.)

If one thing had been different

Another major theme in these editions is pondering the "what ifs?" of life, but I think it takes on even more significance in the broader context of the album in the lyrics of "I'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been, should've been you," in Bigger than the Whole Sky and the repetition of would've/could've in Would've, Could've, Should've (I would've looked away at the first glance, I would've stayed on my knees, I would've gone along with the righteous, I could've gone on as I was, would've could've should've if I'd only played it safe, etc.) In both songs, the narrator is mourning an alternate course their life could have taken* and questioning what they could have done differently, in the aftermath of trauma and loss, and the regret that comes with that loss, and with the loss of agency in the situation because ultimately it was never in their hands. In an album full of questions, wondering about the path not taken, or the forks in the road that have led to a different version of your life, it's digging deeper into the contrast of choice vs. fate, action vs. reaction, dwelling on the past vs. moving on. When you're supposed to let go of the past, what do you do when it is holding your future hostage?

(*I know there are different interpretations/speculation about BTTWS which I am not getting into on main. I'm just saying that whatever the song is about, it's grieving something that never came to be. The literal origin of the song is less important to the album than the sense of loss it portrays. Whatever the inspiration is, it's crafted to tell part of the story of Midnights of ruminating over how, to borrow from her previous work, if one thing had been different, would everything be different?)

(Also I was today years old when I realized that the words are inverted in the two songs. Apparently I've been hearing BTTWS wrong this whole time.)

There's also an interesting tangent in the role of faith in both songs: in WCS, the events of the story cause her to lose her faith (e.g. "All I used to do was pray," "you're a crisis of my faith,") and question all the things she felt had been unquestionable until that point in her life (e.g. "I could have gone along with the righteous"), whereas in BTTWS, she questions whether that very lack of faith is to blame for the loss in that song ("did some force take you because I didn't pray? [...] It's not meant to be, so I'll say words I don't believe"). It's like pinpointing the moment her life changed and upended her beliefs (WCS), but as a result then leaving her unmoored in times of crisis because ultimately there's no explanation or comfort to be taken from what she used to hold true before that (BTTWS). The words she once relied upon to guide her have long since lost their meaning, but in times of trouble it leaves her wondering if that faith she once held then lost could have prevented this pain.

(Shoutout to WCS for being Catholic guilt personified lol.)

To keep on with the vaguely faith-y notions, an obvious parallel is the line in Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve about, “I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at nineteen,” and, "When you aim at the devil, make sure you don't miss," in Dear Reader. All of WCS is about her fighting with an antagonist who haunts her, with whom she wholly regrets ever becoming involved. DR could be seen as a reflection on that fall from grace, warning the audience that if you choose to go after the person (or thing) haunting you, make sure you do so clearheaded enough to be decisive. Again, these “devils” may not be related in real life: the IRL devil in DR could be speaking about her naysayers, or Kim*ye, or Scott & Scooter B, etc., meaning not to cross your enemies until you know you can win. But taking real life out of it and looking at it textually, I am intrigued by the link between WCS and DR, so that’s what I’m going with here. And perhaps that’s even the point in a wider sense; there will be multiple “devils” in your life, or threats to your well-being. If you’re going to commit to taking them down — whether it’s an actual person, or the demons inside you that refuse to let you go — make sure you have the right ammo so that they can no longer hurt you. (Of course, one lesson from these experiences is that sometimes you can’t win, and you have to live with the fallout.)

(Sidebar: I know that “dancing with the devil” is a turn of phrase that means being led into temptation and engaging in risky behaviour, as opposed to describing the actual person. Given the religious metaphors in the song, that could very well be/is the intention, particularly when it’s preceded by, “I would have stayed on my knees” as in she would have continued to follow her faith — in whatever sense that means — had she never met this person, which could also be a more eloquent way of saying she would have continued to be live her life in a way that was righteous (even naive) and seen the world in black and white. Either way, it’s a force she wholly rejects. Like I said, multiple devils, same fight.)

Regret comes up too: in WCS, she says, "I regret you all the time," obviously directed at the person who manipulated her and led to her perceived downfall, citing him as the one impulse she wished she'd never followed, because it won't leave her no matter how hard she’s tried. In High Infidelity, she tells the person to, "put on your records and regret me," and on the surface, it’s like she’s turning the tables, painting herself as the one now causing the regret in someone else, the one inflicting the pain this time. Yet the verse preceding it and the lines following it in the chorus depict a partner who is also emotionally manipulative and vindictive like in WCS (“you said I was freeloading, I didn’t know you were keeping count,” “put on your headphones and burn my city,”). It’s not so much that she’s intentionally harming the person (the way the person in WCS does to her), but rather that the venom in the subject’s feelings towards her seeps through; she’s imagining the way he’s going to feel about her when she leaves, hating her just for by being who she is. (There could be another tangent about how in both songs she’s there to be a “token” in a game for both of the men, who play her for their own purposes.) The regret is dripping with disdain. It’s as though she’s picturing how the person is going to hate her for doing what she’s thinking of doing the way she hates the person who first hurt her.

Sadness, unsurprisingly, shows up in a few lyrics. In BTTWS, “Everything I touch becomes sick with sadness,” sets the scene of a person so overcome with grief that it permeates everything around them; they cannot see their way out of it and feel like the fog will never lift. In Hits Different, it’s, “My sadness is contagious,” the result of a breakup where the person’s grief again touches everything and everyone around them, pushing them further in their despair and loneliness. The reason behind the grief in either case may vary, but regardless of the source, the feeling is overpowering and isolating. They may be different chapters in the story, but the devastation is hauntingly familiar. (As is a recurring theme in Midnights as a whole: there are situations and feelings that present themselves at different points in her journey and colour in the lines in different ways along the road. Like revisiting an old vice and realizing the hit isn’t quite the same as it was in the past.)

Death by a thousand cuts

She also writes about wounds on this album, which isn't surprising I suppose given that the whole conceit is that these are things that have kept her up at night over the years. WCS is perhaps the driving narrative on this never ending hurt when she sings, “The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign, I regret you all the time,” suggesting that no matter what she does, the pain of this experience has permeated everything she’s done afterwards. (Not unlike the overwhelming grief in BTTWS, for instance.) Elsewhere, in High Infidelity she sings, "Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token," and in Hits Different, "Make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding.” Again I'm not suggesting they're about the same events; the line in HI is about a situation where a partner crosses a boundary, hits below the belt, picks at an insecurity (or creates a new one) and treats the relationship like it's transactional, opening the floodgates in turn. In HD, the wound seems to be more self-inflicted, where she's pushed the person away. (Over a situation real or imagined she feels she needs distance from.) But again, something has picked at her like a raw nerve, and just like in the past, she's hurting, even in a different time and place and person. Almost like the wounds of the past break open over and over again to create new scars. If one were to extrapolate further, it wouldn’t be the biggest leap to wonder if the wound open in WCS, then torn apart in HI makes the one in HD hurt even more.

(I once wrote a post about how I think as time goes on, WCS is going to turn into one of those songs that will be found to drive so much of her work, because it’s just… kind of the unsaid thesis statement of so much of her songwriting.)

Another repeated theme is that of the empty home and loneliness. In High Infidelity, she sings, "At the house lonely, good money I'd pay if you just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time," painting a picture of someone who may have everything they'd want to the outside world, but in reality feels metaphorically trapped in their home (or at least alone amidst abundance), a symbol of a relationship gone sour and a failure to build connection. She just wants someone to understand her, want her for her, but as she's written earlier in the song, she's just a pawn in the game, a trophy from the hunt. Home, in this case, is lonely, isolated, an emblem of her fears. In Dear Reader, she continues this thread, then singing, "You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking, if you knew where I was walking, to a house not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there, where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care, no one sees you lose when you're playing solitaire." It's the same idea, admitting to listeners that the gilded cage she lived in kept her distanced from her loved ones and real connection, keeping her struggles close to the vest but feeling desperately lonely amidst her crowning success. She's pushed people away and it may have felt like the right thing at the time, but in the end maybe felt like she was trapped. And when you push people away, eventually they take you at your word and stop pushing back; you’re a victim of your own success at isolating yourself. What starts out of self-preservation then further perpetuates the underlying problems.

(There's another interesting link about "home" also feeling unsafe with HI's "Your picket fence is sharp as knives," which further leads into the theme of marriage/domesticity feeling dangerous, which is a whole other thing I won't get into here because it's another discussion and may derail this already gargantuan word salad.)

In a slightly similar vein, we have the metaphor of bad weather for a rocky road or unstable relationship, in High Infidelity again with, "Storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle" and You’re Losing Me’s "every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes.” They aren’t speaking of the same situation or even same kind of breakdown, but it is pretty interesting how the idea of clouds/storms/floods/etc. play such a role in Taylor’s music to signal depression, apprehension, fear, uncertainty, etc. In HI, I think the “storm” coming is the looming threat of commitment to a partner who makes the narrator uneasy (if not fearful). In this case, the idea of making a life with this person is not one that incites joy or comfort, but instead makes the narrator feel that dark times are ahead if she continues down this path. Perhaps in some way, the “storms” in YLM have made good on the threat in HI in a different way; it’s a different home, a different relationship, but the clouds have settled in regardless, and some of her fears have come to fruition in ways she did not expect. The person she once trusted no longer sees her or her struggles (or worse, doesn’t care), and the resentment and pain build with each passing day.

Coming back to heartbreak, one of the obvious "full circle" moments is the beginning of a relationship in Paris, where she says that, "I'm so in love that I might stop breathing," clearly enthralled in a new love that allows her to shut the world out and grow in private, capturing the all-encompassing nature of the relationship. This infatuation has consumed her in the most wonderful way (in contrast to the sorrow of some of the previous songs), and it feels like a life-altering (or even life-sustaining?) force that is so strong she may forget what it’s like to breathe. (Metaphorically speaking, of course.) By the end of the album, though, in You're Losing Me, that heart-stopping love has become a threat: "my heart won't start anymore for you." In the former, her racing heart is full of excitement, but by the latter, her heart has given out completely under the weight of the pain she bears. (YLM is full of death/illness imagery which I already wrote about awhile ago so I won't hear, but needless to say that song deserves its own essay for so many reasons.) She's gone from the unbridled joy of the beginnings of a relationship to the unrelenting sorrow of its end, two sides of the same coin.

Love as death appears elsewhere in the music too, for instance, in High Infidelity’s, “You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough" and You’re Losing Me’s “How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying? […] My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick.” Though not completely analogous situations, they both tell the tale of one partner’s apathy (or at least denial) destroying the other. In the former, the partner’s actions (or inaction) are more insidious, if not sinister; in the latter, the lack of momentum (or admission of a problem) is passive. In both cases, the end result is the narrator’s demise; it’s a drawn out affair that chips away at her morale and her health and her sense of self. (Breaking my own rule about bringing in alleged actual events into the discussion, but the idea that the relationship in High Infidelity, which was obviously fraught with unease and even fear, ended in a similarly excruciatingly slow and hurtful death by a thousand cuts as the relationship in You’re Losing Me almost did at that time must have been so painful. It almost feels like YLM is wondering why what used to be a source of light in her life was mirroring a situation that caused her such pain in the past.)

From the same little breaks in your soul

I said early on that part of what is so compelling about Midnights is that it feels like an album about ruminating — on choices, on events, on people — and the two final “bonus” tracks of the album depict that as well. In Hits Different, she sings that, “they say if it’s right, you know,” an ode to the confusion of a breakup and struggling with the aftermath of calling it quits. It’s a line that has always intrigued me, because the typical use of the phrase is in the sense of, “you’ll know when you meet the one,” but here it seems to have a double meaning, a reassurance perhaps from the friends (who later on tell her that "love is a lie") that she’ll know if she’s made the right decision in calling it off, but could also be her wondering if the relationship is right, she’ll know, and want to reconcile. In the final bonus track, You’re Losing Me, she sings, “now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time,” this time leaving no doubt about the dilemma she faces, though it’s no less fraught. She’s wondering, perhaps for the last time, if now is finally the moment to end the relationship for good. They say that if it’s right she’ll know, and now she’s wondering if that feeling inside her (that once told her her partner was the one, which is why it hit differently), is telling her that it’s time to go for good. Wait Alexa play “It’s Time To Go.” These are not only the things that keep her up at night, but the things that play over in her mind like a film reel in her waking hours.

Midnights as a whole is a deeply personal album, as is most of Taylor's work, but the 3am+ edition tracks seem to dig even deeper to a lot of the issues raised on the standard album. Almost like the standard tracks are the things she wonders about on sleepless nights, but the bonus tracks are the things that haunt her in the aftermath. The regret, anger, sadness, grief, relief, even joy— they’re the price she pays for the memories she keeps reliving. Midnights might be the most cohesive narrative of all her albums, and really does feel like we’re watching someone work through her journal over time, stopping short of outright naming those giant fears and intrusive thoughts (except for when she does) but making them plain as day when you connect the songs together, and perhaps never more clearly than in the expanded album. It’s incredible how the songs stand on their own to relay a specific moment in time, but that they are also self-referential to each other (whether thematically or overtly) to weave a larger web over the entire work. We’re so lucky as fans to have these stories and to keep peeling back these layers as time passes. (And my literature-analysis-loving ass loves her even more for it.)

This is obviously by no means an exhaustive list, and I know there are more parallels and probably even stronger links (particularly when you add the standard version into the mix), but these were the ones that particularly struck me and I’m just glad I’ve had a chance to sit with this and think it through. ❤️

[squidsinashirt]

The house was too quiet - the way it always was when the same shared bitter dismay hung in the air between them. Nobody needed to give voice to it, and nobody dared. Today’s mission had been successful, by all accounts other than the Tracy standard of impossible perfection - not that it changed the shared collective view of those who did subscribe to it.

Dinner was in near silence, save for Alan’s nervous interjections, and plates were scraped of untouched food, before they had dispersed. Virgil to his painting, Alan to his bed, Scott to his desk - and Gordon to the pool.

The rocky beach at the bottom of the path almost called him, but a paddle out to the reef was for a night when everything was a little lighter. Floating on his back with no real purpose other than to relax and enjoy the night sky, the lull of the waves, the warmth of the ocean.

The pool was for thinking, for venting, for thrashing out length after length in the hope of settling his mind. In the space between two lane markers and the tiled ends, his own personal debrief lay and so - he swam.

Kick, catch, kick, pull.

The comfort of the repetition began to set in after the first ten lengths. The tension of the day beginning to ease with each slightly less irritated kick off the wall.

Kick, catch, kick, pull.

Sixty four life signs. Sixty four lengths. A mile. Nice round numbers. That’d do it.

Kick, catch, kick-

He wasn’t sure quite how long he had been swimming, before the chirp of his watch from the lounger on the deck caught his ear, and Gordon stopped mid-length. Dragging himself over the edge of the pool to reach it, before the author’s name appeared, and he pulled himself from the water to open it.

Penny.

That was quicker than expected.

He hadn’t even replied. Shit.

Brown eyes raced through the message, before lifting a brow in surprise at the answer. Really, he shouldn’t have been anything near surprised, was there anyone she didn’t know?

Frowning to himself as he draped his towel about his shoulders, Gordon headed back indoors, the lights low and the lounge still unusually silent.

Silent until Scott’s voice broke his concentration, brown eyes meeting blue across the room from where his eldest brother was still hunched over the desk, clearly in the thick of paperwork.

“You should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

“So should you.”

The defeated sigh from Scott was as satisfying as ever. His brother’s gaze slid to the open comm on his watch, and Gordon gave a tilt of his head in acknowledgement.

“From Lady P. About Doha.”

“Anything?”

“Maybe, possibly, not sure. It’s just come through.”

“Let me know what she’s says.”

“F-A-B.”

“And then make sure you-“

“Hit the hay, I’m already gone. G’night, Scott.”

Another sigh, this time accompanied by a quiet chuckle as the elder Tracy accepted the answer.

“Sleep tight, Gordon.”

He was still re-reading both messages when he stepped into his room. Flicking on the sidelights and stepping around the yet unsorted pile of clothing that occupied half of the floor (that was on the to do list). Fingers dancing across the holokeys in reply as he stepped into the ensuite, waving a hand to start the shower in practiced habit.

COMMS BEGIN

Don’t worry, twenty four hour service here, you know that. Just finished an almost midnight swim, as it happens, good timing.

Sorry, sorry for the radio silence earlier. Long day and didn’t get a chance to reply properly. Got home a couple of hours ago to a cracked impeller blade, and a control panel lit up like a Christmas tree so… busy day. Working on that ‘rest’.

Anyway, thank you, I appreciate you looking into it. That’s got to be the quickest ‘couple of days’ ever though.

I’m glad the Gordon Tracy squid sense is as accurate as ever, and your favourite hobby of hobnobbing with the billionaires of the world is as useful.

That’s them, I’d know that fishy logo anywhere. Guessing you got the same reception Scott did. Nice guy, this Price - not. What’s the deal with him then, how do you know him? This another Creighton-Ward investment?

Nothing was right about that entire scenario today. Didn’t find anything else that would say it was a natural quake, but John is still adamant it’s origin is the sea floor, not a detonation or anything. The company still weren’t for talking to us either, even after we explained the… situation.

If they have anything to do with this, there’s a lot of blood on their hands right now, Penny. It’s really bothering me.

Will you please let me know-

Okay, let me know-

Can you-

I want to

What’s the

COMMS END

His fingers hesitated, drumming against his forearm as he considered how best to word it. There was no need to be as blunt as explaining exactly why he cared quite so deeply about this particular issue - she’d know, she already knew given her earlier message. Penelope was nothing if not perceptive in a way Gordon wished he could grasp, let alone put into practice as adroitly as she did.

Words, Gordo. Pick some.

He mulled his options over for a moment, before correcting himself. Reading his reply in consideration for a long moment before hitting send, then tossing the watch onto the counter. Balling his shorts and towel in the corner, planting himself firmly under the hot water of the shower, and attempting to ignore the rather unfamiliar twinge of nervousness in his stomach.

COMMS START

Need a date for it? I know a guy.

COMMS END

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell. 

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it. 

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe, 

Penny x

COMMS END

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

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you. 

Penny x

COMMS END

[httpsvgin]

ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST

DREAMS.” ۶ৎ

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)

GENRE. smut, slight fluff?

“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!

(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?

!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡

─────────────

the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.

blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?

yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.

and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.

so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.

biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.

“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.

cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.

“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.

your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.

“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.

after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.

your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.

maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.

and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.

. . . .

“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.

“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.

you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.

hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.

waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.

“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.

“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.

“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.

“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.

“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”

now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.

“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.

“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.

“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.

“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.

the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.

yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.

fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.

“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.

“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”

you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.

“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.

for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.

his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.

“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.

bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.

bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.

gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.

“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.

“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”

“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.

you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.

squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.

“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.

“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.

“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.

“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.

“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”

slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.

“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”

“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.

“thats my girl.”

[anisespice]

“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev.

continuation of this post.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime

Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.

You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…

What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.

What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?

More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.

Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.

You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…

With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.

Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.

You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.

“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”

Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.

You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”

“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.

“…How the hell do you know my name?”

Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.

“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.

He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”

Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.

His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.

“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”

You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.

“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”

As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.

Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?

That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.

That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.

You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.

“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”

You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”

Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!

“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.

“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”

You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.

If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.

It stung.

He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.

Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.

“Papa..?”

Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…

With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”

The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”

Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.

Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.

He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.

Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”

Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”

Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…

To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.

Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.

His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.

“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”

Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.

And, for the first time in years, he smiled.

When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.

As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.

Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.

"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."

The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"

"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"

Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"

She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"

"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.

"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."

Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.

He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.

You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.

He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?

Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.

"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"

Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.

"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."

He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"

"You son of a-!"

"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.

"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"

You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."

He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"

"Hey! No snitching!"

“...What did you say?” 

You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.

While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband. 

“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”

The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?” 

“Did he…say we were?” 

“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”

You choked on your spit.  Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.

You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”

“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”

With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father��did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”

The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.

Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”

The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?

Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.

It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.

from : unknown 1:06 pm     “ hi, mama.~ ”

Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.

The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.

The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...

Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.

from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "

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