#that really isn’t cry worthy

[theloveinc]

It’s really ironic bc sending anon hate is really shameful and cruel of people but like. Yeah. Some opinions on here are Ass.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[hiraethwrote]

cw gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, angst, no comfort, breakup, pining, minor clubbing wc: <1k an i'm on my period which is making me a little emotional, which resulted in this

ex!suguru will never truly be over you, convinced you’re the one that got away.

the breakup was “mutual”, emphasis on the quotation marks — it only meant you guys ended on good terms. it was a very quiet and tender scene. he holds your hands in his, slowly his thumb strokes across your knuckles, never letting his eyes leave your tear stained face.

ex!suguru who, despite disagreeing wholeheartedly with the decision, sees it’s for the best. he will forever hate himself for being unable to see it coming, unable to stop it — one day he suddenly notices how staying in the relationship brought you more turmoil than joy, and he didn't have the heart to hold onto you even though he so desperately wanted to. but he would ruin himself million times over for you

“it’ll be okay,” he says softly, letting himself indulge in the small acts that come so naturally to him one last time before he has to let go, hand reaching up to dry your tears and cupping your cheek. “i’ll be okay.”

with the quiet promise, he feels the stress leave your body and you rest against his touch, a sad smile painting your lips — you’re so beautiful, he thinks.

ex!suguru who lies because he knows it's what you need to hear. you had already stayed longer than you wanted because you didn’t want to hurt him. he wasn’t surprised. you were just so considerate, through and through. he had always thought the relationship was too good to be true anyways, never truly feeling worthy of you

ex!suguru who doesn’t cry, but that is because he feels numb. he can’t remember feeling a pain as intense as this one.

when your tears have stopped, only shy sniffles escaping you, he comes with one last confession. “i’m always going to love you.” he waits, hoping you would say it in return. it isn’t because you don’t love him anymore that you can’t keep going, it’s just because it isn’t working.

“i know,” you say quietly and his heart shatters.

ex!suguru who has his friends fooled because they think he is over the relationship already. he acts the same, eats the same and goes about his business the same — but that’s because it doesn’t concern anyone other than the two of you.

first weekend as a single man, gojo forces him to go out clubbing with him. he really doesn’t want to, but he can’t give his friend any excuses he will accept.

he hates every moment of it, rudely shutting down anyone that approaches him. no matter how attractive, no matter how charismatic, no matter how willing — they’re not you so what’s the point?

ex!suguru who hates the universe a little more than usual. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to escape you entirely. and he swears he tries, but you somehow just appear every now and then.

he spots you in the grocery store, doing your daily shopping. he spots you in the line of the coffeehouse, ordering your usual drink (one he knows by heart). he sees you on every feed, posting pictures and updates of your life — you seem happy.

his heart screams for him to surrender to his desires, to approach you and hear your voice again. but he knows better, so after torturing himself by admiring you for a few seconds, he simply turns on his heel and leaves.

ex!suguru who after years still thinks about you as much as the day you left. he has tried to move on, but it feels like a betrayal, even after all this time.

has he healed? sure, a little. life goes on after all. with time he has been reunited with some sense of happiness. however it could never compare to the period of his life where he was so fortunate to be with you.

ex!suguru runs into you after nine years. and not like all the times he has simply noticed you down the street — no, you fully crash into his chest one day while walking out of a bakery.

to say he is surprised is an understatement. he has memorised all the places you used to visit so this exact scenario wouldn’t happen, and this had never been a chain you had set foot in before. but a lot changes in nine years.

“suguru, hi.” your voice is light, a rhythm in it that was not present at the end of your relationship. “wow, crazy running into you. how have you been?”

“good,” he croaks, eyes glued to your face. he still finds you as ethereal as the day you left. he wants to say more, but he is a little unsettled by how at peace you seem to be despite not being with him. “and you?”

it doesn’t go unnoticed how you present yourself as genuinely content with where you are in life. however, suguru goes through the entire heartbreak all over again — he has missed so much of your life. he used to think he would be along side you for every single moment of it. instead he is stood in front of you and feeling as if the walls are closing in on him.

his breath catches when you stretch out your hand to grab his forearm. “it was really great seeing you again,” you muse. it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he believes he hears a sadness in your voice that comes from missing him.

“you too,” he whispers, and you’re gone again.

ex!suguru who eventually comes to terms with just being alone again. before you, he always imagined this was how it would end, not the person made to share his life with someone.

you had obviously made him believe otherwise. with you by his side, waking up next to someone and sharing your meals didn’t seem so silly anymore.

but it turns out he only wanted those things if it was with you.

tags @sad-darksoul ﾉ @madaqueue ﾉ @toadtoru ﾉ @hiraethwa ﾉ @harperluvgojo

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[melzula]

Okay I have an request

So like we are azula and zuko sister and we adored by both but like in the catacombs we choose gaang over azula and zuko of this and please can y/n x sokka and now zuko now wants to join gaang and yeah I am not good with words I hope u understand what I said😁

Y/n can be a firebender or non bender its ur choice anyway

a/n: okay so there’s a lot to tackle in this request which is why i chose to do it as headcanons so i hope you don’t mind !

summary: being the middle child isn’t easy, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula

As the only non-bender and middle child of the royal family, you never felt like you mattered

You were the Black Swan of the palace, a disgrace to your father and his image

You kept to yourself, staying in the shadows and out of his way while your siblings took the spotlight

However, just because your father looked down upon you didn’t mean your siblings shared his sentiment

In fact, they adored you

Zuko was an attentive older brother. He let you follow him everywhere, defended you against anyone who dared speak badly about you, and was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father was feeling particularly cruel

He saw you for who you were, and who you were was an intelligent, kind, talented young woman meant to do great things in her lifetime

Azula, while being particularly mean to Zuko at times, never once treated you the way she saw her brother

Despite you being a nonbender, she surprisingly never speaks down to you or makes you feel less than

It could be because she doesn’t see you as competition as she does Zuko, or maybe she truly does just feel genuine sisterly love for you

Maybe it’s because whenever she felt your mother was unfairly favoring your brother over her, you were always there to assure her that she was a wonderful bender and just as important

Maybe it’s because sometimes she wished you could be her mother instead

Whatever her reasoning, Azula sees you as a comforting presence in her life. She seeks your validation constantly almost as much as your father’s, and she’d do anything to protect you and your honor

Things became worse for you when Ursa left. She could no longer intervene when your father felt like tormenting you, and your siblings knew better than to say anything in your defense. Shortly after her banishment, Ozai deems it best to send you away to the academy since he has no other use for you

Your departure is hard for both siblings. Zuko is gutted that he can no longer be there to protect you or look after you. Though she acts as if she couldn’t care less, Azula is devastated at your leaving. Her source of comfort is being ripped away from her, and she has no one to look out for her

At the academy you learn various forms of physical combat and weaponry wielding. You’re especially fond of using tanto swords in battle and they’ve become your weapon of choice when in a fight

Zuko and Azula send you letters during your stay at school behind your father’s back updating you about your home, their lives, and their annoyance of each other. You keep every single one they send, and it eases the ache of your home sickness

It’s also at the school that you learn of the Agni Kai and Zuko’s banishment. Your heart breaks for your older brother, and you’re devastated at the fact that you never got the chance to say goodbye and you may never see him again. He still sends letter for a time, but as the years pass they become less frequent and almost nonexistent. Azula’s letters follow the same path

Years pass and your father deems it time for you to come home. Now that you’ve made a decent fighter out of yourself he finds your worthy of being his daughter again

However, your stay is short lived. Azula recruits you to be part of her little team to capture the Avatar and your brother, and you don’t really have any other choice but to agree

You downplay how skilled you are in fighting so that she doesn’t expect much from you and force you to do too much of the work. You don’t want to go against her, but you also don’t want to have to fight your brother and your uncle

You also don’t exactly feel good about destroying the world’s last hope for peace

And that’s why, when the time comes, you choose the Avatar over your siblings

You’re tired of being pulled back and forth, of always being stuck between your siblings with no real purpose, of not being able to do anything for yourself

Zuko is astonished by your choice and conflicted. Just when he finally had found his way back into the family you chose to leave it. Why were you doing this? Why were you ruining everything?

Azula is furious. Your betrayal hurts worse than mother’s. You’d always taken her side, always comforted her and supported her, you’d always been there, and now you were leaving. How dare you leave her?

“You fool!” She’d cried, angrily sending a blast of blue flames your way knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop it. If not for Iroh, surely her strike would have ended you. The fact that your own sister was willing to hurt you for the cause was enough proof to know you were making the right decision

You help the Avatar escape and join his group, vowing to help them in any way you can to win the war. Your fighting skills and knowledge of the Fire Nation makes you a big help and they appreciate your assistance

It doesn’t take long for you to win their trust and acclimate into their group. You become fast friends with everyone, growing especially close to Sokka who may or may not have a huge crush on you

He definitely becomes your shoulder to lean on when things get tough, because he knows it can’t be easy for you to just leave all you’ve ever known behind. you struggle constantly over having to choose the Avatar over your siblings, but he constantly assures you that you’ve made the right choice

Least to say your departure makes Zuko’s return home even more conflicting and turmoil filled. How can he enjoy being back home when you’re not there to enjoy it with him? How could he be happy knowing his sister was out there risking her life to help the Avatar?

Your decision definitely inspires his own to leave the Fire Nation and aid Aang and his friends

Your abandonment of your siblings also fuels Azula’s descent into madness, fueling her fire to continue her mission to capture the Avatar

It’s a rough position you’ve found yourself in, but it’s not like your whole life hasn’t been you stuck in a terrible spot

Being the middle child is hard, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula

[gremlingottoosilly]

Someone, take Lego away from Konig (yandere!loser!Konig x fem!Reader)

AO3

Konig is keeping you in his basement. Turns out, this is still not the worst part. His interest are. Tags ans Warnings: Dub-con, obsessive behaviour, possessive behavior, yandere loser Konig, size difference, kidnapping, weird fluff.

König can play women’s bodies like fine musical instruments.

After he spent 10 minutes vigorously rubbing your outer labia, you concluded that he was thrown out of musical school on day one.

He flicks your clit occasionally, clearly not considering it something worthy of attention and, obviously, not something that actually brings you pleasure – he fidgets with it mechanically, like it’s a part of his riffle, and you almost want to say that his dismissive approach is kind of hot. He edges you perfectly, always giving away just enough pleasure that it feels nice, but not nearly enough that it brings you to orgasm – and he does so with zero idea of what he is doing, which makes you…almost proud. Of him. Of your angry crazy incel loser kidnapper who thought that bringing you lego flowers would make you suck his cock.

Well, it kinda did. Not the flowers, the whole…kidnapping thing. He did use it to get into your pants – and you aren’t even allowed to wear those now. Only his shirts, maybe a hoodie on a cold day, and a pair of lacy panties that he slips on you every morning he is at home.

You have a system – and König does his best to maintain it. You are getting fed at the same time, to make sure that your pretty little self is not malnourished, you are getting roughly clean clothes — most of it belongs to him, of course, like it’s not embarrassing to wear, and sometimes he even asks how your day was. Sometimes you look him deep in the eyes and say that you didn’t move from your usual spot the whole day because, well, you are kidnapped. Sometimes you are trying to be funny and make some silly jokes — and then he either gets too comfortable laughing and then trying to get his hand all the way down the depths of your inner thighs, or he gets angry.

König knows that a petty flower like you doesn’t want to be in captivity for so long, but there really isn’t much both of you can do about it.

He brings you different lego sets from time to time, trying to find out what you like the most. He doesn’t quite understand that, working in a Lego shop, you were utterly sick of most of the boxes lying around. He tried to gauge the reaction out of you, but you’re either ignoring him, crying or begging him to let you go…and he can’t exactly have that. He, kinda, can, of course, but it would mean sliding off your brain so you would never tell anyone about your experiences, or getting into a showdown with the police – and knowing that he hopped you through the border illegally to be his captive wife, wouldn’t really give him any brownie points. He is fucked, utterly and completely, if you’re ever going to be free without falling madly in love with him…

Which is why König is trying to make you love him. Thoroughly, utterly, and spending copious amounts of time with his tongue buried between your folds in the meantime.

Like now.

— You like it, ja? When I move like this…

He was spending too much time caressing and fondling your thighs – but you must admit that having his lips travel across your skin and sending goosebumps right into your core wasn’t so bad…he touched you a bit awkwardly, just a tad bit shy – like he wasn’t so sure how to approach a soft, female body instead of a cold rifle he was probably used to…he knows that he can’t just treat you like another one of his guns but, by god, if he doesn’t adore the way you look at him. All scared and nervous as he pushes his lips upwards, as he covers your soft skin with bite marks – you were so sure that he will be too nervous to even touch you, but you know better now…this guy doesn’t care that he is your captor. He only wants you to accept him, and if giving you gifts didn’t work out…

You needed to be a bit more diligent about the whole accepting his kindness thing. Maybe he would have been satisfied with a handjob – but now he wants to put his hands on you and do his job.

— Too…too much, Ko…

— Call me “sir”.

There is steel in his voice, and you stiff slightly. This is new – he was never like this before, even though you kinda got that he was in some sort of military. He was way too bulky and had too much money to be a regular gun nerd, so you settled for some special forces or elite war crime unit…then again, you weren’t in Germany anymore. Guy would have to get another citizenship to get into a more serious “I fucking hate my fellow man” forces.

He flicks his tongue over your clit and you remember what you’re here for. To get fucked. Because you are fucked. Not right now in physical sense, but you will be in a few minutes, and you’ve been mentally fucked for a few another hours and-

— Sir, ple…too much, re…really…

König fuckijng adores you.

He loves your trembling voice, your trembling hands, your trembling everything. The way you squint your eyes as he finds all of your special spots – it took him some time but ladies are just like riffles – come undone if you press on a few parts. You look perfect under him, and he couldn’t have you any other way even if he wanted to…god, you’re too fucking perfect for your own good. So, so pretty, it’s insane how he didn’t fuck you the first night you’ve been in his basement. Perhaps, he was trying to be a gentleman – fuck this, now. If he knew how sweet you would sound, he’d abandon any rotten chivalry on day one.

König didn’t have a lot of experience – a few sex workers here and there, some in the more exotic destinations while the others were, embarrassingly enough, from his hometown. It was a sense of domesticity, that he isn’t a fucking loser who can’t get a lady in his bed without wavering either his gun or hit wallet – but he has you now, and you don’t really care about his money or his guns…unless he counts your obvious activity. Which he doesn’t. Good golly, you’re too fucking pretty to count that.

He flicks his tongue over your clit and dips lower, deeper, sucking the sweet nectar straight from the source. You’re embarrassingly wet even as you try to push his head away – he would handcuff you, but he likes your little resistance attempts too much. He moans every time you tug on his hair and, with time, you should finally understand that everything you do only makes him want you more. Maybe, you do – but you keep doing this because you’re such a good girl who wants nothing more but to please her dearest…not exactly husband, but he can work on this. He has friends in places. Same ones who used to get him out of detentions when his quiet kid violent tendencies weren’t quite quiet enough.

He is moaning as he eats you out – the sound reverberates from your walls and makes you clench around his tongue, your brain already getting fried from pleasure. You never wanted to get off from your captor’s tongue buried so deep between your legs, but you surely enjoy it now…

You try to pry his head from you when he gets a bit too eager, when it feels like his nose is smashing your clit and you can only moan some mindless bullshit.

— You want to talk about lego instead?

He presses his head on your thighs, his cheek angled against the soft skin. He has a bit of a stubble that burns the soft skin, but the look in his eyes is far too eager. He is not bullshitting – and this is the most terrifying he is ever been. You try to imagine another three-hour lecture Star Wars and the history of lego sets combined with his awkward attempts to fuck you in between turning his affection spam from one thing to the other. The picture is vivid in your mind. You can almost hear it.

You consider your options. It is a hard decision for you.

— You know, they weren’t able to sell the sets to girls up until…

You grab a fistful of his hair and push his face all the way down your dripping pussy.

It looks like the only sure way of making your captor shut up is literally forcing him to fuck you…there were many such cases – you embarrassingly easily fall to his charms, even though he has the aura and charisma of a serial killer who got a freshly baked orphan for his lunch and then tried to talk you into destroying a small country’s economy.

König eats you out with the vigor of a starving man, and there isn’t a place he would love to be more than here and now, listening to your heavenly moans. This is the best motivational song he heard so far – and as he pushes his big, flat tongue deeper into the gummy walls of your clenching pussy, he thinks about recording your sounds and then listening to them in the gym. Could probably break the poor lifting pole with the strength of his fists.

He brought you to an orgasm – not easily, he had to lick the reaction out of you, your heat coming down to both of you like a wave. You feel tired immediately, knowing just how much energy you just wasted listening to his blabber between your legs – but you honestly can’t be arsed to react right now.

König lifts his body up so he can kiss you – you taste yourself on him and, admittedly, it’s a lovely way to make him shut up. You still tremble as you get down from your high, your legs finally giving up, even though you were already laying on that shabby mattress. You shift slightly so he won’t crush you under the weight of his body. A Lego piece pocks at your side, making you wince.

You hate this fucking place.

— What’s wrong, Liebling?

He nuzzles your neck like a needy dog, pressing light kisses all over your skin. He is marking it, too – you can’t keep comparing him to a dog, but this is exactly what he is. Simply a war hound that you have to tame in order to get a somewhat normal life while still belonging in his basement. You thought you knew how to play this game – then he pushed you on your tummy and fucked you because, apparently, you were too good at playing him. Even now, he acts more like a lover – if only you could see past his homicidal tendencies…

But you can’t.

But he doesn’t care anyway.

— I…

You bite your lips, trying to come up with a lie that wouldn’t make him fuck you. König thought you looked beautiful like this, all holed up in your thoughts. So, so pretty, he couldn’t help himself – he needed you, as much as he kinda hated playing the psychological game and trying to understand what you’re thinking. Ladies are too mysterious for him, after all.

— I want to sleep in a normal bed.

Oh.

Well, he…didn’t expect this.

He was ready to combat your desire to run away or to be let go willingly. He was ready to put you on your knees and make you beg for him to not let you go - after all, you did belong to him in all of his right. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to want something so simple. Something that he can do. God, you’d look fucking divine on his bed instead of the tiny basement he put you in. He can already imagine you on your tummy, face buried in his pillows as he pounds into your soft ass and explains every superhero poster he has in his room. He will show you all of his figures and knives and guns, and you’ll finally see just how amazing he is and how interesting his hobbies are – and you’re bound to finally love him the way he deserves.

You stare at him, blankly. He kinda loves when you look like that – sometimes he imagines you being a mindless little bimbo who can’t think of anything besides his dick, and it helps him get off when you’re too sleepy to play along with him. He tried to bring you more sets, something childish, something meant for girls – but you tossed away the rose bouquet and you didn’t even spare a second glance at some fandom set that he thought you’d like. God, you’re difficult. Women are difficult. Why can’t you be as straight as a riffle?

— Normal bed, Katzen? You don’t like it here?

He puts a hand on your shoulder, his fingers too big to rest on your body carefully – he easily reaches for your neck and he knows that you’d go out like a light with the smallest squeeze. You’re adorable and soft like this, and he can’t wait to finally try choking with you.

König imagines your pretty, soft body all helpless under him – maybe you’d claw at his hands and beg him to stop, maybe you’d enjoy it, drenching the small mattress with your juices. Maybe you’d push your hips towards his, desperately searching for release. You can be a nasty, dirty girl, he knows this all too well – mostly because he did go through your phone and searched for your browser history. Who knew that a simple lego store cashier could have so many kidnapping and overpowering fantasies. Who knew that you could be so wet just because some military-obsessed loser wanted to shove his cock into you and wasn’t nice enough to ask first.

— I…I don’t like the basement.

Smart girl. You know how to be sot and obedient when you have to. Too bad, this behavior also made you all the more desirable for König – compared to the rowdy recruits and dumb enemies, your quiet voice is everything he needs to not go crazy. His hand plays with your neck, squeezing it slightly, playfully. He can feel your pulse quickening every time he does this and he is sure that if he’d drop his hand between your legs again, your pulsating pussy would be wet enough to indicate a second orgasm.

Shit.

He goes too far again.

— You don’t like the basement? Why?

You stare at him, blankly. He seriously thought there is nothing wrong with the basement – it’s small, yes, but probably just about the size of a studio apartment you were able to afford while working in Berlin, of all places. You have a mattress, a loving boyfriend, you have all the food and snacks you want, your pussy is filled with cum and your mind should be filled with endless love and adoration for the coolest guy in the world who just so happens to be in love with you, so…

He looks at your face again. Ja, you don’t like the basement. You’re a surface girl after all.

— You really want me to answer that? It’s the basement.

He snorts, still dragging the conversation.

— I spend most of my childhood in the basement. It was nice.

— I could tell.

— What?

— Nothing. Let me out, please.

He sighs with deeply settled tiredness. He thought you’d be nicer about it, too – but he knows what ladies want, he is a ladies' man at heart. He doesn’t have one, of course, not unless this charcoal-black shrapnel-filled thing deep in his chest could be considered one, but he tried his best to be good for you. You deserve something nice, something good. He wants to kiss you all over and he will do it on his own bed, while trying to talk you into watching some old nerdy TV show with him. Maybe you’d agree to play with some Lego after this and it could be considered a really nice and thorough foreplay.

— I can’t.

— Let me sleep on a normal bed, then.

Well, this, he can do.

Carefully unlocking your shackles and immediately catching your legs so you won’t kick him in an attempt to escape, König picks you up like a kitten. It’s scary, almost, how easy it is for him to just manhandle you into the position he wants. He is a big boy, admittingly, so it really doesn’t matter how big or how small you are. He can abuse you easily, and this is why you’re trying to keep him gentle. Using all of your womanly charms even if this guy would get off just from you calling his name.

He covers your eyes so you won’t see anything – not like you’re interested in the amount of weirdly specific movie posters on the walls or an alarming amount of firearms. He knows he is not the most charming person out there with the most interesting hobbies, but you will learn to appreciate all of his anime figures, or else you’re going to suffer the fate of a recruit who dares to ask his late thirties colonel of who the fuck Ayanami Rei is. Rumors are held that this guy was never seen in the army again.

He only puts the hand away from your face when you are sitting on the soft bed. You stare at the navy sheets – fucking obviously – and, surprisingly, a bed frame. Then your gaze travels a bit further, to the walls and…

God.

Oh fuck.

You almost want to cry from how much of a loser your kidnapper is. He is a threatening mercenary, a fucking colonel in military uniform who holds you at gunpoint occasionally. You stare at the anime posters. You contemplate your options.

— Can I go back to the basement?

If god is real, he is a fucking anime girl from the poster in your kidnapper’s bedroom.

[shinsources]

sacred romantic moments

“ don’t go. stay. “

“ but you’re here, so stay. “

“ i don’t want to be alone tonight. “

“ just come over. “

“ let’s be alone together. “

“ i didn’t know where else to go. “

“ i don’t want us to be apart anymore. ever. “

“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “

“ you can talk to me about anything. you know that, right? “

“ just… be honest with me, do you hate me? “

“ i could never hate you. not really. “

“ you’re my friend, but… sometimes i wish you were more than that. “

“ we’re not just friends. you know that. “

“ i think i’m falling in love with you. “

“ can i hold your hand? “

“ yeah, you’re in love with me. “

“ just hold me. “

“ things would be so much easier if we were honest with each other. “

“ why can’t you be honest with me? with yourself? “

“ maybe you could stay? just for tonight? “

“ it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. “

“ you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep lying to yourself. “

“ i can’t keep lying to myself, or to you. it’s not fair on either of us. “

“ i think you should kiss me. “

“ kiss me like you mean it. “

“ just kiss me. “

“ you shouldn’t kiss me right now. “

“ look me in the eyes and tell me you love me. “

“ you can’t lie to me, you know. “

“ you know me better than anyone. you always have. “

“ you’re pretty amazing. you know that, right? “

“ you’re just… you’re extraordinary. “

“ you’re good to me, you know. really good. “

“ you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been. “

“ i don’t know what i would have done if you weren’t here. “

“ our love can conquer anything. “

“ and for many generations to come, our love story will live on. “

“ i want you to marry me. “

“ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i’d say yes. “ “ what about today? “

“ marry me, name. marry me and make me the luckiest [x] in the world. “

“ your kiss could mend a broken heart. “

“ are you going to kiss me again, or do i have to do it myself? “

“ i could cry, that’s how much i love you. “

“ you’re worthy of my love. “

“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “

“ maybe tonight, it’s you and me. “

“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “

“ could you promise me one thing? “

“ promise me that we’ll be together, no matter what. “

“ it’s you and me, forever. no matter what. “

“ i didn’t want to tell you until i was sure, but… i’m pregnant. “

“ we’re going to be family! “

“ this baby, it’s the best thing that could ever have happened to us. “

“ i can’t believe this, we’re going to be parents! “

“ dance with me? “

“ may i have this dance? “

“ you’re my whole world, you know. “

“ don’t speak, just… kiss me. “

“ you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that. “

“ i’ve been wanting to tell you for so long… “

“ so… is this like, a thing now? “

“ i always miss you, even when you’re next to me. “

” i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts. ”

” i don’t want you to miss me. it’s tearing me apart. ”

“ you make me happier. “

“ i love waking up next to you. “

“ my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you. “

“ come cuddle with me. “

“ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “

“ do you love me? “

“ could this be something more? “

“ move in with me. “

“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “

“ are you serious? i’ve had a crush on you for as long as i can remember. “

“ i know you’re in love with me. “

“ you’re really cute, you know. “

“ you’re so damn attractive. you know that right? “

“ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “

“ and right now, i think you should kiss me. “

[tsuutarr]

I Want to Pepper You In Kisses

Pairing: Arven x GN!Reader

Word count: 10K

Genres: fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint

Summary: Somehow, Arven’s journey to find Herba Mystica ended with him falling in love with you.

Before Arven falls in love with you, he’s not entirely sure what to make of you. He honestly finds you a nuisance, along with that hyperactive student council president. Seeing the brute out and about feeds into his annoyance, too. 

“What’re you doing out here?!” he yells, pointing an accusatory finger at the Pokémon his parent loved more than they loved him.

“Hey, please don’t get too angry – this sweetheart here helped me out,” you say.

Arven scoffs. “I’m not talking to you two. You can shove off.”

He expects you to get angry then and leave, but you don’t. Instead, your gaze softens for some unknown reason and he can’t maintain eye contact, so he looks away.

Then, the stupid student council president mentions his relation to the “great professor,” making anger course through his veins.

“It doesn’t matter who my parent is!” He crosses his arms, eyes narrowed into a glare as he tries to fight the bitterness rising in his chest. “The real issue here is what in the world this Pokémon is doing out here. And what’s with this form it’s in?”

“See, we heard this strange cry, and we tried to investigate it, but…” Nemona begins.

“But I fell off a cliff.” You give a small shrug with an awkward grin. “It wasn’t intentional.”

“And as mentioned earlier, this Pokémon came to the rescue!” Nemona beams. ���But it seems like it wore itself out in the process. It got kinda… slumpy afterward. But you shoulda seen it before! It looked totally different – it was unbelievably strong!”

“Well, yeah. As it should be. But it can’t fight while it’s like this. The form you saw it take in battle – that’s its true form.”

“Heh,” you pat the brute’s head lovingly and Arven briefly wonders how your fingers would feel ruffling through his hair. He quickly shoves the thought from his mind. “You’re quite strong, huh?”

“...I don’t remember ever seeing you around. But given the uniform… You go to the academy too, do you?” he asks, making you nod. “Well, that brute isn’t the sort of Pokémon any old trainer can hope to command. It’s special.”

“Well, it definitely does seem that way,” you agree amicably as if he didn’t just insult your fighting prowess. Why aren’t you mad? Why aren’t you ignoring him? Why aren’t you… Ugh. He’s really not used to it and maybe that’s why he asks his next question.

“You think you’re up to ordering it around? Then how ‘bout I test your worthiness?”

You pause, seemingly surprised at his offer. You make eye contact with the brute who blinks at you, before cuddling its head into your side lovingly. You can’t help but laugh as you agree to battle him.

“I’ve been feeling all out of sorts, so I’m gonna use this battle to blast these doldrums away!” he announces, throwing out his newly caught Skowvet. He’s not really sure what outcome he expected, but he definitely didn’t expect you to absolutely pulverize him in battle.

“Good job,” you murmur sweetly as your starter Pokémon hops over to you, nuzzling your hand as you pet it. Arven can’t help but think about how warm your eyes look then, but he quickly glances away, afraid of being caught. You glance at Arven, who’s withdrawing his Pokémon into its ball. Smiling at him, you approach him, offering your hand. “Good battle.”

He doesn’t take it, instead opting to shove his Poké Ball back into his pocket. “I guess I wasn’t ever going to stand a chance using some Pokémon I’d only just caught…” he mutters. “But if you really think you can take that brute off my hands for me… you’ll need this. It’s its Poké Ball.”

You take it with a nod and a smile. “Thank you.”

Arceus, he’s really not used to people being nice to him. Or smiling. Or anything, really, so the softness in your expression throws him off wholly, making his ears feel hot. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “that thing’s your problem now, not mine. Good luck.”

“Mhm,” you agree. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says dumbly, “Uh. See you around, I guess.”

“See you!”

Arceus, he’s really not sure what to make of you.

His stance on your existence is further complicated as rumors about you seem to float around the school. He’s positive that the Academy has new students all the time, but for some reason you seem to stand out – and what’s this about you fighting Team Star? You’re definitely having some kind of day. Falling off a cliff, getting pawned an annoying Pokémon, beating up some Team Star grunt… you just seem to attract trouble.

Trouble…

An idea pops up in his head.

The next time he sees you, it’s during lunchtime. He notices you almost immediately and he tries to ignore the implications of that. He’s surprised to not see the annoying student council president next to you, but he takes it as his opportunity and slides up next to you as you browse the food selection in the cafeteria. “Oh, hey!” he catches your attention and you turn to him with a tilt of your head. He half expects your face to morph into one of disappointment but it doesn’t and it makes him feel… soft. Weird. He shoves the feeling down. “You remember me, right?”

You raise an inquisitive eyebrow, your lips twitching upwards. “I don’t think we’ve met…”

He must’ve made an odd expression, because a laugh jumps out of your throat.

“I’m kidding. From the lighthouse?’

“Yeah, exactly!” Arven feels oddly cozy. “That’s my little know-it-all buddy. Got a mind like a steel trap, eh?”

You blink at him, before saying, “I wouldn’t say that,” with a snort. “Ah, but I don’t think I’ve introduced myself –”

“Don’t worry about it.” Arven says your name. “That’s your name, right? The whole school seems to be talking about you. The new kid who showed up as the president of the student council.”

You scrunch up your nose a little at that. “I didn’t think I’d stand out that much.”

You stand out for a lot of reasons, Arven wanted to say, but instead says, “I normally wouldn’t even bother showing up for class, but I came all the way to school today just to talk to you, actually. Our new celebrity. You’ve gotta help me out so I can finally make my dream a reality!”

“Happy to help!” you respond, making him blink.

“Uh? What kind of little maniac says yes to something without knowing what they’re agreeing to?!”

“Well, you said it’s your dream, right?” you offer him a smile. “I dunno, I guess I’ve always admired people with dreams. Don’t really have any myself, so…” you give him a shrug. “What’s this dream?”

Your kindness makes him feel a little sick. He’s using you and you’re willing to be used – but before guilt can really settle in, he nods. Arven begins his spiel about picnics and sandwiches and health foods and he knows he’s rambling but you listen patiently. “...So. That’s the gist.” He rubs the nape of his neck. “I really want to get those herbs myself, but… I’m not very good at Pokémon battles. Don’t have any friends with strong Pokémon to lend me a hand, either.” Well, he didn’t really have friends, period, but he wasn’t going to say that. “And I’d never hear the end of it if I went crawling to that student council girl.” Arven inhales. “But then you waltz up! You’ve got to help me out with this – you’d be perfect!”

“Well–”

“Nope! Wait! I don’t need an answer yet! I’ll just register the places where it seems there might be Titans in your map app for you.” 

You laugh. “Well, I’ve pretty much made my decision, but okay.”

“Just let it stew a bit,” Arven insists. “And we can get more into the details later.”

“Gotcha,” you nod. “I’ll get some food in the meantime. Wanna join?”

“I have places to be,” Arven responds. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right, fine by me. See you!”

When Arven leaves the cafeteria, he regrets not taking you up on your offer. But he pushes the thought away, fiddling with the old Poké Ball in his pocket – he has places to be.

When he sees you again, he almost groans in annoyance at seeing Nemona with you. Surely chattering on about battles. Again.

“Hey, little buddy!” he yells, running up to you both. Arven gives you a little nod of acknowledgement, before narrowing his eyes at Nemona. “Tch. How’s that for a student council president! Giving your own friends an insider advantage?”

You stand, an amused expression on your face, as Arven and Nemona argue.

“I can do both, you know.” You finally say, trying to appease them. Pulling out your Rotom Phone, you show them the places marked on your map app. “See? They’re all pretty close to each other. I’ll do them all as I tackle Paldea.”

“So you’ll challenge the gyms?” Nemona asks, a sparkle in her eyes. As you nod, she cheers. “En serio? How exciting!”

“...Tch, fine. As long as you help me tackle the Titans, I guess.” Arven relents. “Well, I’m outta here. Catch up soon, little buddy!”

You laugh. “I will!”

Arven won’t admit it, but his steps feel lighter at your agreement to help him.

---

The first time Arven falls in love with you, he doesn’t even realize he’s fallen. Instead, he recognizes the overwhelming sense of relief at seeing you run up to him.

“Hey, Arven!”

“Hey,” he says, his tense shoulders relaxing by seeing your smile.

“How’ve you been?”

“Eh, the usual,” he responds, before awkwardly tacking on, “You?”

“Heh, I’ve been good,” you respond. “You ready to look for the Stony Cliff Titan?”

Arven snorts. “You’re more excited than me.”

“What can I say?” your gaze is so kind as you look at him that it makes his cheeks warm. “I want to help you achieve your dream.”

“All right, all right,” he huffs, though he can’t help the smile that sneaks up on his face. “Let’s split up then, yeah? It should be around this area, but we can cover more ground this way.”

“Sounds good to me! Call me if you find it, okay?”

“‘Course,” Arven responds. “Same to you!”

He hadn’t expected to hear from you so fast. “Arven!” you exclaim, “I found it – whoa, dodge that!” you command as a rock hurtles towards your Pokémon. “Yeesh, this thing is huge!”

“I’m on my way!” he hurriedly says, worry lacing his voice. He couldn’t help it – you were battling a Titan by yourself. You guys were supposed to fight it together! 

“Hah, don’t hurt yourself while rushing over here,” you laugh with ease and he’s surprised at how much your voice calms him down. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Despite your words of assurance, he finds himself rushing to you. He can’t let you get hurt so early in the hunt, after all. 

When he gets to where you are, you’ve already done a lot of damage to the Titan. His mouth gapes in surprise at the huge size of the Pokémon, as well how cheery you are as you wave at him. “Hey, Arven!” you beam.

“Behind you!” he yells, and you hurriedly turn your attention back to the battle, commanding your Pokémon to counterattack. He won’t lie – you look kind of cool like this. Like a hero. His hero. Arceus, that’s embarrassing, Arven thinks, burying that thought deep into the crevices of his brain.

“Thanks!”

“No problem, but… that’s the Stony Cliff Titan? No Klawf has got any business being that big!” 

“Agreed,” you laugh, before tilting your head as you see the Klawf scrambling away. “Uh… Where’s it going?”

“It’s heading inside that cave…?” Arven’s eyes widen when the Klawf scrambles back outside with something in its hand.

“Do you think that’s–”

“A Herba Mystica!”

You and Arven watch as the Klawf gobbles the herb and it begins to glow, shaking with some immense power.

“You think it’s gonna be even stronger now, after eating all those herbs? Let’s watch ourselves!”

“You got it!” you nod. “I trust you to have my back!”

Arven can feel ears warm again as he tosses out his Shellder. You trusted him? You actually trusted him to have your back. Well, he can admit the feeling is mutual, at least. And, he won’t admit it to you, but watching you battle is riveting. The way your eyes shine, the confidence in your directions, you standing by his side – it makes his heart beat so fast he isn’t sure what to do with himself.

Adrenaline is still pumping through his veins when you’ve defeated the Titan, making his limbs feel jittery. His heart beats even faster as you turn to him, eyes crinkled at the sides as you raise your hand for a high five. Cute, he thinks as his palm makes contact with yours.

“We did it!” you cheer.

“Yeah,” he feels kind of breathless, but he can’t help the wide smile that overtakes his features. “Look at you – my little buddy; coming through like a champ!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you respond, and Arven’s heart warms because he knows you could’ve done it without him. You’re so much better than him, after all.

He shakes his head at the thought, feeling his heart jolt painfully.

“These Titan Pokémon are… yeesh. I sure don’t like having something so tough out to get me.”

“Don’t worry!” When your laugh resounds again, Arven wonders how you can be so happy. “If they come for you, I’ll get them.”

His face heats up again as he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m sure there’s more Herba Mystica somewhere back there – quick, let’s have a look before it comes back.”

You follow after Arven, asking, “Which one do you think we’ll find?”

“According to the book, it’s the Sweet Herba Mystica–”

“Whoa!” you trip, making Arven act faster than he thought possible. He grabs your arm as you stabilize yourself.

“Watch your step, it’s pretty dark,” Arven murmurs, removing his hand from your arm. He clenches his hand, still feeling your lingering warmth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say.

“Nah, don’t apologize.” Arven pauses. “Uh, and if it helps… you can, uh, grab onto my vest or something.”

“I’ll take you up on that, actually,” you huff out a laugh, fingers gently grabbing the back of his vest. Arceus why did he offer this? He feels like he’s gonna die from how fast his heart is beating. Now he has to deal with making sure you both don’t trip and the thought makes him nervous (which is definitely, definitely the only reason his heart is beating so fast).

Before Arven can dwell in his thoughts for too long, his feet stop, making you bump into his back.

“Oof!”

 Arven wants to apologize, but he can’t as his throat constricts at the sight of the pink herb glimmering in the dark. “It’s – it’s real. It’s real!” He feels like crying, but he holds it in, taking in a shaking breath. “Let’s see… The book says that the Sweet Herba Mystica is good for gut health and that it helps aid digestion. Says it’s good for stomach aches, too, or when you want to stimulate an appetite!”

“Heh, that battle stimulated my appetite enough,” you hum and Arven can’t help but agree.

“...Now, if I can just get him to eat some…”

You look at him curiously, but don’t pry, which he’s grateful for.

“All right! Now it’s my turn to show off what I can do. You’re about to get a taste of my cooking!”

“Looking forward to it!” you respond and Arven can feel a grin come on his face as he prepares to cook.

He first learned how to cook all those years ago because he was the only one who could take care of himself. His parent was always too busy to take care of him, after all, so he could only really rely on himself and Mabosstiff. Well, it worked out in the end – him cooking turned out to be a good enough bribe for you to help him, which he really didn’t expect. He was so used to expecting people to help him and no one coming through, so you being there felt odd. But it wasn’t a bad thing, really. He… just hopes you’ll be able to stick around till the end. Just until he can get all the herbs, at least.

Somehow, the thought that you won’t talk to him after you get all the herbs kind of bothers him.

“Here you go!” Arven announces, trying to rid himself of his thoughts. He hands you the plate with a sandwich on it.

“Oh, that looks delicious!” you beam, making his heart swell with pride.

“It’s an Arven-original sandwich packed full of herbs! And–” he digs through his pocket, handing you something that looks like a badge. “–I’ll even give you this. It’s called a Titan Badge. I modeled it after the gym badges.”

You let out a whistle. “This looks genuine,” you marvel. “You’re really good with your hands.”

“Nah, it’s really nothing,” he bashfully says, but the moment is interrupted as the brute springs out of its Poké Ball. “What’s up with that thing? It just comes out of its ball whenever it wants?”

“I guess?” you respond, patting your Pokémon lovingly. It purrs underneath your touch, before sniffing at your sandwich.

“Hey now,” Arven says. “That’s not for you.”

Even as Arven says that, you give the sandwich to the brute, making Arven sigh. He’s starting to think you’re a complete pushover.

“Hey! I went through all the trouble of making that for you, and you just give it away? I hope you realize that’s all there was, so now there’s none left for you.”

“Oh.” You hum in thought. “That’s fine, don’t worry. Sorry about giving your sandwich away, though.”

Your kind gaze makes Arven heave out another sigh. “Aw, come on! Now you’re making me feel bad,” he grumbles without any real bite. He cuts his own sandwich in half, offering it to you.

“Oh, you really don’t have to–”

“Just take it,” he responds. “You fought hard, y’know. You should eat.”

“...Thanks.” You take the sandwich from him. He watches you expectantly as you take a huge bite and he’d be lying if he wasn’t absolutely ecstatic when he sees your eyes light up. “This is good!”

“Heh, I’m glad you think so!” he boasts, pleased, before he looks at your Pokémon. “Hey… is it just me or has your brute–”

You clear your throat.

“–your partner gotten… stronger?”

“I think so,” you tilt your head. “You think you got stronger, ‘Don?”

“Agias!” it responds, making you laugh.

He stares at the way you two interact with each other and there’s this twinge of something that stabs at him. At one point, that was how he and his Mabosstiff interacted.

“Arven?” you ask him, cautiously. 

He swallows. “The power of these herbs is really something! If they had that big of an effect on your Pokémon, then I bet…” he trails off. “I’ll start cleaning up – don’t worry about it!” he waves you away when you approach him to help. “You’ve done more than enough by defeating that Titan Pokémon. Leave the rest to me. Just… if you can, it’d be great if you could get started on searching out the other Herba Mystica for us.”

“You got it,” you salute. “See you, Arven. Thanks again for the sandwich!”

He watches as you disappear out of the cave, whispering, “I really owe you one.” He inhales, before carefully letting his Mabosstiff out. It’s been a while since Arven’s heard Mabosstiff’s bark, but he still can’t help the disappointment that settles in his bones when he sees that all his partner can do is heave labored breaths. Gently, Arven combs his fingers through Mabosstiff’s thick fur. “Hey, buddy,” he murmurs. “You think you can eat this for me?”

Mabosstiff merely whines in response and Arven can feel his heart clench uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, bud.” Arven breaks off small chunks of the sandwich, feeding them to Mabosstiff one by one, carefully watching Mabosstiff’s reaction. 

Mabosstiff, the sweet friend that he is, slowly but surely eats what Arven offers. 

“You know,” Arven says, scratching behind Mabosstiff’s ear. “I actually made this with someone else.”

In response to Arven’s words, Mabosstiff nuzzles into Arven’s knee. It’s a soft gesture that makes tears well up in Arven's eyes.

“Yeah, I just met them recently but… they’ve agreed to help me help you,” Arven begins, still gently patting his Pokémon. Arven begins talking about how strong you are and how pretty you are when you smile. How cool you are when you fight. Recounting stories about you, little snippets about how you laugh or how you say certain words, makes Arven’s heart feel strangely warm and before he knows it, Mabosstiff has been lulled to sleep, paws warmer than before.

---

The second time Arven falls in love with you, he’s so overwhelmed by your kindness that he doesn’t realize he’s in love.

“Second Titan down!” you cheer, holding up your hand for another high five. Arven can’t help but grin back, hitting your palm with his. There’s a pleasant tingle that spreads out across his palm.

“You were amazing there, y’know?” he says, adjusting his bag, which makes you peer at him curiously.

“Isn’t that heavy?”

“Nah, I’ve been lugging this thing for a while, so…” he shakes his head, tilting his chin towards the direction of the cave. “Let’s get goin’ before the Titan comes back for seconds.”

“You got it!” you agree, following after Arven.

“If we’re lucky, there’ll be another herb here…”

“Over there!” you point, making the both of you run to it.

“It’s a Herba Mystica!” Arven grins, looking at the green herb. “Thanks, really. If I can just get him to eat this…” his voice turns quiet as he gazes at the herb in silence. It’s the second herb out of five and Arven desperately, desperately hopes this will do something to help Mabosstiff.

“Arven…”

He lightly smacks his cheeks with his hands, trying to get rid of his negative thoughts. “Okay, let me whip something up for us!” 

“...Okay,” you say softly with a smile. “Waiting for a good meal, chef.”

“You can count on it!” he responds as he gets ready to cook. It’s something he’s noticed lately, but sometimes he thinks about you while he’s cooking. It’s kinda embarrassing since you’re right there, but he can’t really help it. He didn’t think you’d pull through for a second time, which, maybe he shouldn’t have doubted you, but years of disappointment made it hard for him to expect things from anyone that isn’t him. Still, he’s so grateful because really, no matter how good his cooking is, there’s no reason to help him. After all, it wasn’t like you considered him a friend or anything yet, right…? 

It would be nice if you did, though.

“All right, all done!” Arven announces. “Here you go! My special, whimsical, herb-filled super sandwich! And it comes with a Titan Badge!”

“I’m still impressed with how good these look.”

“Heh, I’m glad you – aw, come on! You again?” Arven groans, seeing your brutish partner pop out. It nuzzles into your side again, looking at you with big doe eyes as it begs for your sandwich. The brute took his parent, and now it’s trying to take you, too? He can’t help but feel a little jealous – wait. Jealous? Why would he feel jealous…? Arven shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. Still, he can’t help but pout when the Pokémon looks at him and mewls. “...Hmph. Is it trying to say thanks or something?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “It really liked your sandwich. I’m not a bad cook or anything, but ‘Don will longingly stare in the distance sometimes when it eats my cooking – probably thinking about yours, heh.”

Arven clears his throat to tamper out the embarrassment that he’s feeling. “Well, it’s a good thing I made extra, then.”

“Oh?” there’s a teasing glint in your eyes that makes his cheeks flush.

“I just made extra ‘cause you’ve been helpin’ me a lot!” there’s a small frown on his face, though it’s not malicious, “I definitely, absolutely, did not make extra for your partner.”

You raise your hands as a testament of peace, though there’s still a teasing grin on your face because you both know he’s lying. He’s thankful when you don’t push, though, instead opting to take his sandwich from him. “This smells great, Arven!” Beside you, your partner yips happily, nudging you to hurry up and feed it. With a laugh – one that Arven absolutely does not think is cute – you give your partner its sandwich. After it gobbles down its sandwich, it glows brilliantly, making Arven’s eyebrows rise.

“Did it grow stronger again?”

“I think so!” you beam, patting your Pokémon. “Look at you go!”

“Man… these Herba Mystica really do pack a punch, huh? I mean, they ought to, or else–” Arven’s eyes widen as your Pokémon lumbers over to an extra sandwich on the table. The Pokémon’s action makes rage bolt through Arven, but even more than that, panic. “Don’t you dare touch that – it isn’t for you!” His shoulders are tense as he yells, his voice echoing throughout the cave. Both you and your Pokémon blink in surprise and Arven tries his best to control his ragged breathing, but it’s hard.

“Arven,” you murmur, placing a hand on his shoulder. He expected you to slap him for yelling at your Pokémon, so your soft touch gives him whiplash. “I’m sorry about ‘Don. Are you all right?”

“Yeah – yeah.” He’s not sure why you’re able to help calm him down so quickly, but there’s a sense of peace that thrums through his veins, allowing him to think a little clearer. “Yeah.”

“‘Don.” There’s a chastising lilt to it that makes your Pokémon bow its head apologetically. It purrs, slinking away from the table and curling up.

“...I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shouted like that…” Arven inhales, the air feeling heavy in his lungs. “I… guess I should at least tell you the full story.” Fiddling with the Poké Ball in his pocket, Arven intakes another deep breath, before letting his beloved Mabosstiff out. “This is Mabosstiff, my partner.” Arven takes the extra sandwich off of the table, breaking it into smaller chunks and feeding it to Mabosstiff. “Here you go, bud. Eat up. This sandwich should help you feel better. Slowly now. Take your time. Small bites are fine. Just chew nice and slow…”

Mabosstiff does as instructed, slowly, but surely, eating out of Arven’s hand. You watch the scene silently, but kneel down next to Arven. It’s an odd feeling, but Arven can’t help but appreciate the fact that you’re still here.

“...My buddy here was… hurt pretty bad a while ago. Real bad, in fact. He never really recovered,” Arven says, feeling tears well up in his throat.

“Oh, Arven… I’m so sorry,” you murmur, hand gently rubbing his back. Before he’s cognizant of what’s happening, you’ve drawn him to your chest, giving him a hug. You have to angle yourself a little oddly because he’s so much taller than you, but that fact just makes his heart feel even more warm. He can’t really bring himself to hug you back fully, but he grabs the back of your shirt as he tries to steady his breathing.

“Nothing seems to help,” his voice cracks, “not potions, not Pokémon Centers… Nothing.” Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes. “Mabosstiff here is the only thing in the world I care about. The only thing… So, I promised that I’d make him better – whatever it takes.”

“And that’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve done your research,” you hum. “I’m impressed you found this out.”

“I was desperate,” he murmurs, basking in your warmth for a beat longer, before pulling away and pulling out a book. “I – this book… I found it in my parent’s lab. It’s full of legends and stuff, things nobody’d usually believe…” Saying it aloud makes it dawn on him how kind you actually are – when he asked for your help, he’d asked without knowing if any of this had any substance or value yet you agreed. “...But I believe it.” His gaze meets yours. “As an example, Mabosstiff’s paws have gotten warmer when he first ate Herba Mystica – I’m sure of it!”

Arven’s gaze sweeps back to Mabosstiff who is still chewing his food.

“Oh! You done eating, bud?” Arven murmurs, threading his fingers through Mabosstiff’s thick fur. There’s a twinge of anxiety as Arven gazes at his beloved companion. Something ��� anything, please, Arven thinks, teeth worrying his bottom lip. 

Slowly, Mabosstiff’s eyes open, making Arven’s breath hitch in his throat.

“H–hey, Mabosstiff! Can… can you see? Are your eyes open?” Tears clog his throat again as he sniffs. “Yes! It… It’s been so long since he was able to open his eyes! I was so worried–” he sniffs “–oh man, I–! I’m so–! I’m so glad!”

You rub gentle circles on Arven’s back as you allow him to bask in his relief while crying.

“Thank you, really,” he finally says, making you laugh.

“It’s all you, Arven, promise.” Your gaze is contemplative as you tap your fingers against your knee. “Do you mind if I pet him?”

“Ah… Well, what do you say, Mabosstiff?”

Mabosstiff looks at you and you look back with a smile.

“He says yes,” Arven supplies helpfully.

“I’m glad you told me,” you laugh. “I couldn’t tell.” Still, you gently take your hands and scratch behind Mabosstiff’s ear, which he seems to like. Watching you carefully handle his buddy makes an indescribable emotion well up in Arven – he’s really not sure what to make of it, but he wants to burn the image of you and Mabosstiff into his brain.

“Aw, look at him look at you!” Arven huffs out a laugh. “Those fiery orange little eyes… Hard to tell if they’re open or not, but I know the difference!”

“Hah, I don’t doubt it,” you respond, giving Mabosstiff one last scratch before drawing your hand away.

“The power of these herbs really is amazing!” Arven beams, feeling a lot better after crying. “I’m gonna get the rest of these herbs and bring Mabosstiff to full health.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, making Arven awkwardly clear his throat. He knows that you’ve been nothing but kind to him, but he still feels a little shy around you now that things are dawning on him. He’s revealed his real reason for hunting Herba Mysticas and he’s cried in front of you, which is honestly pretty mortifying. But you take it in stride and for some reason, in his eyes, you’re glowing. Not wanting to bask in his awkwardness, he clears his throat.

“So… uh, yeah. That’s my story. Just… just three more to go.”

“Just three more to go,” you agree, before taking his hands into yours. Arven swears his heart just stopped. “Arven, I promise you that we’ll find the remaining herbs. We’re gonna bring Mabosstiff to full health, you’ll see.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, the passion in your eyes swallowing him whole.

You give his hands another squeeze before drawing away, making Arven really, really miss your warmth.

“We got this, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arven agrees, nodding. “We do.”

---

The third time Arven falls in love with you, it’s because he realizes he finds comfort in your presence. You’ve just defeated the third Titan, and Arven can’t believe how amazing it feels. You’re both over halfway done with this quest – over half. He didn’t even think he’d be able to find one Herba Mystica, but somehow, with you, he’s found three. 

“Another successful search!” he beams, looking at the glowing herb. “We’re on a roll!”

“We are!” you agree, covered in mud from head to toe. The sight makes Arven laugh. “What?”

“Ah – it’s nothin’ to worry about,” he says, but the grin on his face says otherwise. Your eyes narrow and he can’t help but think it’s so freaking cute. 

“Hmph, I help a guy out and all he does is laugh at me…”

“And make you sandwiches,” he helpfully adds, making you snort.

“That too, I guess. Hm…”  you peer at him curiously, before digging through your pockets. Arven watches you curiously as you pull out a handkerchief. You stand on your toes, trying to reach his height as you carefully wipe his face. Arven stops breathing as you focus on him. “Okay, I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” you huff with a smile. “I can’t really do anything about your clothes, though. Sorry.”

“You–” Arven lets out a sigh, before bellowing out a laugh that makes you jump. “I really don’t know what to expect with you.”

“Thanks?”

Arven shakes his head with fondness, still feeling warmth radiate through his limbs. He digs through his bag, pulling out a fluffy Maschiff themed towel and handing it to you.

You take the toweling, blinking in confusion. “Thanks…?”

“You think I’m in a state?” he huffs, watching the expression on your face. You’re cute, Arven decides, but doesn’t put more thought into it because he’s so sure everyone finds you cute. 

“Is that why you were laughing?” you ask, finally, nose scrunching up. “I’m covered in mud, aren’t I?”

“Yup,” Arven responds with a smile. “Clean yourself up and I’ll get some food going.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, backing away from the picnic table. 

Arven watches you from the corner of his eye as you wipe your face and clothes, scrunching your nose in disdain. The sight makes him smile to himself as he begins to cook. Smiling wasn’t something he did too often before meeting you, but there’s just something about you that makes his lips quirk upwards. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” he exclaims, walking to where you’re sitting and handing you a plate. “Another one of your favorite ol’ Arven sandwiches with a side of Titan Badge!”

“Thank you!” you beam, still caked in mud but somehow glowing. 

“It’s nothing–” Arven snorts as your Pokémon pops out of its Poké Ball. “Figured this might happen. Don’t worry – I made extra this time for that partner of yours.”

“Thanks, Arven,” you beam, your partner chirping beside you in agreement.

“Yeah, no problem.” Arven fiddles with his Poké Ball for a bit, before gently letting Mabosstiff out. Shallow, but heavy, heaves leave Mabosstiff’s bruised body and Arven can feel his heart break, but he pushes on. Arven carefully breaks the sandwich down into smaller chunks, feeding it to Mabosstiff. “That’s it. Small bites, small bites…”

“Ah, ‘Don, slow down!”

Your voice makes him temporarily turn his attention to you, which allows him to observe your partner swallowing the sandwich whole.

“Ah, c’mon,” Arven huffs without malice. “At least bother to taste it before you swallow it right down, would you?”

You offer him a sheepish smile. “Uhm, if it’s any solace… I’m savoring every bite. It’s very good.”

Your words make Arven’s expression ease, a sense of comfort flooding through him. “That’s good, I’m glad.” For a brief moment, he stares at you eating his sandwich with glee, a sense of calm washing over him before his gaze shifts to Mabosstiff to assess Mabosstiff’s condition. “Oh. You done with your sandwich, Mabosstiff?”

A small sound escapes Mabosstiff, making both Arven and your eyes widen.

“R–ruff?! You… you heard that too, right?!” Bright teal eyes wet with tears turn to look at you. “Mabosstiff just woofed, right? Right?!”

“Right!” you agree, a wide grin on your face. “He definitely woofed!”

“See! See that?!” A relieved chuckle leaves Arven as his hands gently thread through Mabosstiff’s fur again. “I knew I wasn’t just hearing things!” With increased vigor, Arven scratches the back of Mabosstiff’s ear, causing the Pokémon to let out another small woof. “Oh, Mabosstiff! Who’s my best bud, huh? Who’s the best of boys? You are, yes, you are!” He sniffles and before he knows it, you're at his side again, rubbing circles on his back as you scratch Mabosstiff’s other ear.

Mabosstiff lets out another small woof at the attention he’s receiving, which makes Arven laugh through his tears.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that woof!” He can’t help but turn to you with a grin, which you reflect. “Mabosstiff is definitely getting better! Ever since I teamed up with you, good things keep happening!”

You laugh. “Then I guess I’ll have to work hard to make sure good things keep happening.”

Arven can feel his heart squeeze and he’s half-convinced that you’re trying to kill him.

“Just two more, right?” you give him one last pat on his back before you pull away your hand. He kind of misses (really misses) your warmth, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he nods.

“Just two more. I hope you’ll stick it out until we’re done.”

Your eyes crinkle at the sides as you smile. “I definitely will.”

He isn’t going to admit it anytime soon, but that smile brings him more comfort than you realize.

---

The fourth time Arven falls in love with you, it’s because of how much your encouragement spurs him to continue forward. The fourth titan is down for the count, and Arven can’t believe it. 

“Yes!” Arven cheers, looking at you with a bright grin.

You smile back at him, giving him a high five, before dusting off your shoulders. “What even was that thing?” you mutter. “It looked vaguely like a donphan.”

“That was definitely not a donphan,” Arven responds, scrunching his nose at the sand in his socks. “I don’t even think it was a Pokémon.”

“But then what is it?” you murmur, humming in thought. 

Arven thinks with you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly in thought. “I kinda feel like I’ve seen it before…” 

You peer at him curiously, before motioning him to lean down. Arven blinks at you, confused, but obliges. “We’re always in such a state after these battles,” you huff, amused, as your hands go to remove the sand in his hair. Arven can only stand still, words stuck in his throat as you gently weave your fingers through his hair. He can feel heat radiate off of his cheeks as his eyes flicker around aimlessly, trying to find something to look at. He feels like an eternity has passed when you remove your hands, a proud look on your face. “There. I got most of the big chunks out.”

“I–” he clears his dry throat, “Thanks. Do you, uh, want me…?”

You blink at him curiously, before you laugh. “I think my hat thankfully protected my hair from the worst of it. I don’t always wear it, but I’m glad I wore it today.”

Oh Arceus, he was so dumb. Arven wanted to crawl into the sand and never emerge again.

“Could you make me a sandwich, though? Please?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, feeling warmed at your inquiry. You’re so sweet that he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

The cave is, like always, dark when you and Arven enter it. For some reason, Arven pays a little more attention to you, trying to make sure you don’t slip or trip over your feet.

“Oh, the herb!” you say, making Arven finally turn his head and look at the herb growing in the distance.

“It looks like it’ll taste horrible,” Arven laughs, “which means it’s gotta be good for you!”

“I don’t know about that,” you respond, smiling, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to turn this into something tasty, at least.”

“You bet.” Arven rolls up his sleeves. “No time to waste – I’ll get some food going!”

Areven’s deft hands traverse across the picnic table as he sets up the ingredients to make a sandwich. There’s a giddiness behind his movements now as he anticipates your reaction, as well as Mabosstiff's increasing health. He can feel that he’s so, so close to his goal that he can taste it – and it’s all thanks to you. His heart fills with something he can’t really seem to describe whenever he thinks of you – whenever he’s with you. Sometimes he feels like the gratitude he has towards you will overflow, making him do something terribly stupid.

“Okay, sorry for the wait! Here’s the sandwich with a nice helping of Titan Badge! Gaze upon it in awe as you eat.”

“I am in awe,” you respond, taking both things from him gratefully. As your Pokémon comes out, Arven lets Mabosstiff out of its Poké Ball too. The sight of Mabosstiff’s eyes makes Arven smile.

“Seems like someone’s got a proper appetite now!” he glances at your Pokémon, watching it gobble up its food. “And that fellow’s also slowly regaining its original strength. Still… doesn’t look like it’s anywhere close to returning to its battle form. It seems healthy enough physically… But maybe it’s got a mental block?”

You frown at him, which makes Arven’s heart drop.

“A mental block?” you murmur, gently petting your Pokémon. It nuzzles into your hand as you do so.

“I, uh, I’ve read about it before. A mental scar – like psychological trauma.” As your frown deepens, Arven wishes he could just shut up. “Maybe it had a terrifying experience in battle and, uh, doesn’t really like to now? Like it’s too scared to fight.”

Your frown remains on your face as you continue to stroke your Pokémon’s head. Arven swallows, before clearing his throat.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Arven says, quickly, noticing the worry in your tone. He really didn’t want to damper your mood – that wasn’t the intent of his words. So, seeing you crestfallen at the potential trauma your Pokémon faced makes his heart, well, drop. “I’m sure both the brute – uh, that is, your buddy – and Mabosstiff will both make a full recovery eventually!”

“Yeah,” you murmur, giving him a nod. You give him a small smile as if to appease him, but it does little to soothe the guilt in Arven’s heart.

“Well, Mabosstiff?” he says, turning his attention away from you. “How’s that Herba Mystica working?”

Mabosstiff only tiredly huffs in response, his breathing slow and steady. He lets out a little whine in apology, but it’s quiet and breathy.

“Uh, no pressure!” Arven exclaims, wanting to backtrack completely. He feels like he’s messed up twice now and he’s starting to panic a little. “It’s not like it’s fair to expect every kind of Herba Mystica to have some kind of huge effect, right? And it’s not like the result has to be immediate, either.” Arven gently ruffles Mabosstiff’s fur, holding in a sigh. “Okay, rest up now, buddy.” Ruffling Mabosstiff’s fur one last time, Arven withdraws Mabosstiff back into its Poké Ball. As soon as Mabosstiff is back in its Poké Ball, Arven heaves out a sigh.

Everything had started out so great, but now, it feels like he’s made mistake after mistake. Not to mention the fact that Mabosstiff didn’t have any huge changes this time around. And he’s made you all sad because your Pokémon might be traumatized. Arven groans, ruffling his hair in aggravation. He just keeps messing up.

What if he keeps messing up? What if Mabosstiff never recovers? What if you see that your efforts were for nothing and then leave him? What if–

“Arven, we have one more left,” your voice cuts in, making Arven turn to you slowly in confusion. You meet his gaze with a smile, your Pokémon curled up by your feet, dozing off. “We'll get the last one and Mabosstiff will be as right as rain, you’ll see. We’ve got this.”

He blinks at you. “Uh– yeah.” Arven’s eyes search your face for any signs of anger or frustration, but there are none. Just kindness and determination. “Yeah.”

Your smile is so bright that it actually melts away his worries this time. You aren’t mad at him, and you aren’t disappointed, either. He can see that now.

Arven smiles. He’s not sure why, but your words bring him a lot of comfort. Since you said it’ll work out, he really believes that it will. He believes you because you seem to believe in him.

It makes his heart feel warm.

---

The fifth time Arven falls in love, it’s because he realizes that his happiness is multiplied beyond words when you’re with him. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” you ask, eyes glimmering as you look at Casseroya Lake.

“Yeah,” he responds, looking at how your smile widens at the sight of the blue lake before you.

“So the last Titan Pokémon – the False Dragon – is here, right?” you ask, tilting your head back to look at him. “It’s kinda bizarre to think about, you know. It’s so peaceful here.”

“Yeah, and not a single person’s caught of glimpse of it,” Arven mutters, eyes drifting across the quiet lake water. “It must be some kinda truly terrifying beast… But how are we supposed to search for a thing when we don’t even know what it looks like?”

“Surely it’ll do the kind thing and yell something like, ‘Grah! I’m the Titan!’” you joke, curling your fingers to look like claws, making Arven huff out a laugh.

“If only, right?” Arven’s thoughts are momentarily shaken when you start sprinting away from him. “Wha– hey! Where’re you going?!”

“I saw it!” is the last thing he hears before you surf away on your Pokémon.

Arven can only stand there, shell-shocked, before he runs after you, sending out his Cloyster.

When he catches up to you, he sees you confronting a huge Pokémon, a Poké Ball readied in your grasp. “Did you find the Titan?!” Arven asks, looking at the Dondozo. “So that’s it?! Sure is one big… uh… dragon?” His eyebrows furrow, expressing his confusion. “Wait, is that even a dragon? Or is it a fish?!”

“Well, it’s called the False Dragon Titan for a reason, right? So…” your eyebrows also furrow in confusion. “...If we beat it, I’m sure our questions will be answered.”

“That’s true– whoa!” Arven’s eyes widen. “Th–the little sushi guy got eaten up! Yeesh! Didn’t expect to see the food chain in action today!”

“And now we gotta step it up so we don’t end up a part of the food chain!” you respond, calling out your Pokémon.

“Right!” Arven agrees, sending out his Greedent.

“W–We did it!” Arven cheers once Dondozo goes down. “We–”

“Not yet!” you respond as Tatsugiri jumps out of Dondozo’s mouth and costumes some Herba Mystica. “Let’s go, Arven!”

“Uh…! Right!” 

Somehow, he always finds himself following your pace.

“Phew… Nice job!” Arven pats you on the back once the Tatsugiri also goes down. “Maybe the Titan was both those Pokémon together? Like some kinda combo meal.”

You laugh brightly at Arven’s words, making his heart warm. “Well, we're kinda a combo meal too, then, huh? A better one, of course.”

Arven ignores how hot his face feels, chalking it up to the battle you two just finished. “Okay! I’m pretty sure that Tatsugiri came out of there. Let’s go?”

You nod, following Arven as he enters the dark cave. Instinctively, you grab onto Arven’s vest, making his heart warm.

“That must be it!” Arven exclaims once he sees the red herb. You both run up to it, happy that your search is successful. “Let’s see what the book has to say… So it seems that the Spicy Herba Mystica is supposed to boost your metabolism! It gives your circulation a boost and helps flush out all those toxins!”

“Wow, it sounds intense!” you laugh, before patting Arven’s arm. “Sounds like something that’ll definitely pep someone up.”

“Yeah,” Arven says. If he were alone, he’s sure that he’d be more fearful than hopeful, scared that all his efforts were for nothing, but you’re here and that’s enough to reassure him. Inhaling deeply, he picks the herb up, giving you the brightest grin he can muster. “Just wait right there – I’ll whip something up real quick.”

“Waiting!” you reply, brightly.

Arven begins his cooking again, eyes intensified on the task in front of him. Before he can get too much further, however, you call for him. He turns around, looking at you quizzically as you approach him.

“Your hair’s gotten longer since we’ve started collecting Herba Mystica.”

Arven pauses, contemplative. He has noticed that his hair has been getting in the way more recently, but he was too busy to really think about it.

“Can I tie your hair back?”

“Huh?” Arven swears his heart stops, his cheeks heating up. He swears you’re gonna kill him one day. 

“Since your hands are busy,” you supplement, pulling out a cute hair tie with a Skwovet on it. “...Well, actually, it’s because I saw this and thought of you.”

You thought of him? You bought something because you thought of him? Arceus – he’s not sure when someone last bought him something – or even thought to, really.

“Arven?” you call.

“Yeah,” he responds, snapping out of his thoughts. “Ah, yeah.” He blinks rapidly, feeling his eyes grow wet with tears. It’s the onions, he tries to convince himself, but he’s not really sure if he can lie about it this time. He turns his back to you, barely choking out, “Go for it.” There’s a wobble in his voice that he hopes you didn’t hear.

Gingerly, at his permission, you take his hair into your grasp, threading your fingers through it. Arven busies himself with cooking, unsure of what to do with himself. The gentle movement of your fingers makes his heart beat erratically, but it somehow soothes him, too. He’s really not sure what to do.

 “There,” you say, finally, patting his back as your hands draw away from his hair.

He kind of misses your warmth, but he’s not going to admit that outloud. Instead, he mumbles a quiet thank you that he’s not sure you heard.

“No problem,” you hum, peering over his side to watch him work.

He suddenly feels shy under your gaze, even though you’ve watched him cook so many times. It takes all of his brain power to solely focus on cooking because he doesn’t want to mess up and lose you.

“Wow, that looks delicious!”

“Then it’s good that I made enough for you,” he responds, making you laugh. Arceus, he really likes your laugh.

“Thanks, Arven,” you say, taking the two sandwiches he’s offering you.

I should be thanking you, Arven thinks, but nods and says that it’s not a problem. He watches as you give your partner its sandwich, bright grin on your face as your partner gobbles it food in a flash. Arven watches as you eat yours, delight racing across your face as you savor each bite. Just seeing your reaction makes Arven think that he wouldn’t mind cooking for you every day.

“It’s delicious!” you say, making him puff his chest out in pride.

“Of course it is!” he exclaims, feeling your words simmer in his heart and give him courage. He inhales, pulling our Mabosstiff’s Poké Ball. “I guess it’s your turn, now…” he murmurs, releasing Mabosstiff. “Come on, bud. Eat up. It’s gonna make you all better, I promise,” Arven says, breaking up the sandwich and offering it to his partner. He waits for Mabosstiff to eat patiently. “We’re gonna play with your favorite ball as much as you want, y’know? Just like we used to.”

Mabosstiff silently eats out of Arven’s hands. It makes Arven’s heart throb.

“Please… get better. That’s all I want, really…” Arven’s voice is so quiet that he’s not sure if he’s said or thought his words. Still, he waits in anticipation as Mabosstiff finishes the last bite of his sandwich.

Arven waits.

And waits.

And waits.

“...Mabosstiff,” Arven finally says, voice cracking. He gently pats Mabosstiff’s fur, feeling his eyes grow wet with tears. “You did your best, bud…” With a sharp inhale, Arven stands, turning his back to you. He’s not sure what to do. You worked so hard for him. Mabosstiff worked so hard for him. And yet… it didn’t work. It didn’t work, of course it didn’t. But what else can he do now? Arven’s not sure. There’s a myriad of thoughts bustling in his head, becoming a murky black as he contemplates what to do next. He knows he has to keep trying, but–

Bark!

Arven’s eyes widen as he quickly whips around, teal eyes landing on Mabosstiff struggling to its feet. Though a little slow, Mabosstiff limps to the Poké Ball that rolled off the table, picking it up in its mouth and walking to Arven. The relief, the gratitude, the hope – all of it makes Arven fall to his knees as he clambers towards Mabosstiff to meet halfway. Mabosstiff lets out another energetic bark that makes Arven want to cry. “Bud, I know! Me, too!” he exclaims, hugging Mabosstiff close. He feels the soft warmth of Mabosstiff’s fur, the gentle beat of Mabosstiff’s heart, and Arven, for the first time in forever, knows that Mabosstiff will be just fine.

And Arven can’t be more grateful to you – you, who decided to help him, a stranger. You, who decided to help him despite there being no evidence of these Herba Mysticas existing. You, who has supported him through this entire journey–

“Thank you,” he finally says, looking at you. He knows his eyes are red, he knows he probably looks like a mess, but he really can’t bring himself to care – not when Mabosstiff’s better. Not when you’ve helped him so much.

“Don’t mention it, really,” you say, eyes so kind that he wishes he could hold your gaze forever. “I’m so glad Mabosstiff’s better.”

“Yeah,” he responds, feeling elated that he can share this moment with you. He continues to hug Mabosstiff close, whose tail has been wagging rapidly. The pulse thrumming through Mabosstiff’s body makes another shot of happiness move through Arven’s veins. “Yeah.”

Arven wonders if it’s all right to be this happy, but he decides that it’s okay to bask in it for now.

After all, what else can he feel when both Mabosstiff and you were by his side?

---

The moment Arven realizes he’s in love with you, it’s because he realizes that it’s because he can’t imagine life without you.

His mood had considerably soured when his parent had called you, especially since his parent wanted something from you. Bitterness rose to Arven’s throat, leaking into his words as his parent requested your help. He’d honestly rather you never interact with the professor that abandoned him. Still, you agree to help the professor and though Arven doesn’t want to be treated like an errand boy, he knows he owes you one.

Well, he owes you a lot, actually, which is why he helped you through the professor’s crazy request. He wants to be a pillar of support to you, like you were to him. So, he stood by you as you went to Area Zero.

But now that everything is solved, technically, he wonders if he should’ve gone with you at all.

Finding out that his parent had died years ago – he’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel. Sad? Angry? Frustrated? Scared?

Arven inhales, looking at the starry expanse above him. Somehow, despite the cloudiness in his heart, the stars shine bright as always. Somehow, despite the heaviness in his heart, he ends up drawing your visage in the constellations. You, who shines brighter than the stars, slumbering inside the tent next to Nemona and Penny. You, who braved the dangers of Area Zero. You. He wishes he can see you.

“Arven?” you call, and Arven wonders how he’s able to wish your presence into existence.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, hearing the yawn in your voice.

“No, I just…” you pause, “...I just couldn’t sleep.” Slowly, you make your way over to him. “Can I sit with you?”

“‘Course,” he replies, heart leaping in his throat when you sit closer to him than he expected. His emotions begin to jumble further into some odd emotion stew as you two sit in silence. The stars. The professor. Mabosstiff. You. Everything.

“Are you okay?” you ask, finally breaking the silence.

Arven doesn't know the answer to that. “Are you?”

You’re silent, before you breathe in deeply. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Arven looks at you – you, who’s always been so brave and strong, and he sees. He sees the eyebags on your face. He sees the way your shoulders slump. He sees and he understands.

“...Thanks, Arven.”

“What?” The gratitude you express takes him by surprise, which you see when you turn your attention to him and meet his eyes.

“For coming with me. And helping me get Penny and Nemona on board. And… well, helping me adjust to Paldea. Traveling with you helped a lot, you know.” You inhale deeply, before your head seems to naturally rest on Arven’s shoulder, making him freeze. “I just… I don’t think I could’ve been down there by myself. So, yeah. Thank you.”

Arven’s not sure what to say. He’s still processing everything and if anything, he really should be thanking you. You, who helped him heal Mabosstiff. You, who let him vent about his parent. You, who reassured him the entire time in Area Zero. You, who’s still here, by his side, thanking him. You.

“I think I’m in love with you.” It dawns on Arven that he’s a mess of emotions and probably shouldn’t be talking. In fact, he probably should shut up now since you’ve removed your head from his shoulder, opting to look at him with wide eyes, but he can’t. “You’ve always been there for me. You didn’t have to, but you’ve been there. And you’re still here.” He inhales. Can you see how much he wants to hold you close? “Seriously, I should be thanking you.”

“Arven…”

Arven’s words finally catch up to his brain, making his cheeks flush. “Arceus, sorry.” He deflects his gaze from you. “I’m just– I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, softly, placing your hand on his cheek to turn his face to you. “It’s been a long journey, y’know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t a mess. I mean, remember what the sand did to us that one time when we beat the fourth Titan? Or the mud bath we had because of the third Titan?”

Despite his embarrassment, he can’t help but snort in laughter, which makes you smile.

“Arven,” your thumb brushes against his cheek, feeling the warmth radiating off of him, “Don’t ever apologize for expressing yourself, okay? I want you to talk to me if you need to. I’ll be here – I’ll always be here for you.”

Arceus, how could he have ever avoided falling for you? Everything you’ve done for him, everything he observes, it all builds and builds and builds until he feels like his love for you is reaching beyond the skies.

“And… maybe this isn’t the best time for this, but…” you gaze flickers to the ground, bashful, “I like you too.”

Arven blinks. Once. Twice. “Oh.”

Your lips quirk upward, your gaze shy. “Do you think you’d be okay if I stayed by your side?”

“Would you be okay with that?” Arven says, grabbing your hand. “Would… Me? You’d be okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Arven wonders if he’s dreaming. He’s been constantly abandoned that he never thought that someone would willingly want to be with him. But here you are – here you always are. He can feel his eyes well up, and you let out a small laugh at that.

“I feel like I keep making you cry.”

He laughs for the first time since you had gotten the call from the professor. “I don’t think I’ve cried this much since I was five.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just a heartbreaker.”

He snorts, mirth dancing on his face, despite the unshed tears.

“But don’t worry, I’d never break your heart.”

“You’re killin’ me, here,” Arven wheezes, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

You respond by drawing him into a hug, laughter tickling his ear. Despite him being bigger than you, somehow you make him feel safe in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, eyes closing as he holds you close. He’s not sure when it started, or when it’ll end, really, but he feels the overwhelming emotions he’s feeling slowly leave him. He can’t fully comprehend what he’s feeling, still trying to balance the grief, the shock, the relief. Maybe he won't ever know what he's feeling. But when he feels you bury your face into his chest, wet tears decorating his shirt, he thinks it’s okay that he doesn’t fully know what he’s feeling.

He doesn’t know when he’ll be fine, maybe he won’t be fine for a while. But with you in his arms, by his side, he thinks he’ll be okay.

And he’ll do everything to make sure you’ll be okay, too.

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[knight-dwx-09]

Hiding (Not Really) From Them

Jaune cleave a Beowolf in half with a great sword that wasn’t a Croceo Mors. As the last Grimm evaporates, he let his eyes roamed a bit to search for any Grimm left in the area.

Jaune: Okay, that should be the last one of them. Now, I just need to back to the village to report the situation and grab my payment.

He sheathed his sword into the scabbard on his waist.

Jaune: I should wait for her to call me before I leave, today is Friday so it will be any second now.

Right on cue, his scroll began to rings, causing him to smiled brightly as he pick it up to reveal smiling Neo on the screen.

Jaune: Hello Neo!

Neo: *Waving*

Jaune: So, where are you now?

Neo: Atlas

She speaks thanks to the device on her neck that try to predict what she want to say into text-to-speak. It’s not perfect but it’s still good enough to communicate without hand gestured or typing on a scroll.

Jaune: Cool, no pun intended, any luck on stealing from the criminals and finding the information for other artifact?

Neo: Couple stupid idiots, one even use just one password and one pin for all of his money and secret document. As for the latter, none. You?

Jaune: Same, just a couple of Grimm and protecting Villages, haven’t see much from Salem’s cult as well. Seems like they went into hiding after I destroyed a lot of their camp.

Neo: And you aren’t being too hard on yourself, right?

Jaune: They weren’t much to exert me that far. I don’t even have to rely on Lyssa to fight them.

Lyssa: *Speak in Jaune’s mind* Damn right you are, these weakling are even worthy for master’s skills, let alone to withstand against my power! And worry not Neo, I ensure you that I will keep tabs on master’s health and force him to get enough sleep and nutrients!

Jaune let out a deep chuckle as he pat the sword on his back, which was wrapped in a bandage.

Jaune: And Lyssa told me she’s going to protect me and make sure I don’t slip back into my old habits. So, really, you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Neo: That’s good to know, because I promised if I ever saw or know that you are awake late in night, swinging your sword like a madman, I WILL go to your current location and suffocate you in my thighs or tits, pick your funeral.

Jaune: *Chuckle nervously* You make it sound like it was a threat.

Neo: Because it is.

Jaune: I will keep that in mind.

Neo: … I know this isn’t something for me to say nor that I really care, but shouldn’t you visit your friends by now? It’s been 6 months since you last saw them in the hospital.

Jaune: Believe me, I have been dying to do so. But you know, somehow, all of the mission I saw and get was in Vacuo or a remote area, and once every a blue moon that I have a mission in Atlas or Vale or Menagerie, my friends weren’t there. Just my rotten luck. Besides, they need rest after the war and I don’t think my absent will affect them that badly.

———

Yang: *Red Eyes and blazing hair* If I finally captured that bastard, I will make him have second thought about abandoning all of us ever again! Stupid Vomit boy, making all of us, including my sweet little sister, cry our eyes out!

Blake: I know I don’t have any right to judge him but I will help you on that, I will bring the handcuff and leash so we could tied him with us forever so he won’t be able to run away.

———

Jaune: Heck, I am sure they are really busy with their new life to even think about me. With Dust in the world become even more rarer after the final fight, Weiss is trying to find another source of resource to replace Dust while fix her family legacy. You even say that Ruby is helping out Weiss while keeping Atlas save. And that is a lot of work!

———

Ruby: I miss my Best friend, Weiss, I miss him so much. *munching on a cookies while snuggling with Weiss*

Weiss: I also miss him… *Whisper* Where are you my Knight… your princess is waiting for you to come back… *eating blueberry frozen yogurt*

———

Jaune: And I heard Kuroyuri are being rebuild! I am so proud of Ren and Nora, they could finally settled down and have a family. I do pray for Ren’s pelvis, I remember that Nora wanting to beat my family scored of 8 children.

———

Both Nora and Ren could be seen in Mistral, handing out papers with smiling Jaune when he still has the banana hair and written missing under it.

Nora: Have you seen our golden retriever son? I miss him so much! *Large tears running down her face*

Ren: Our boy have run away from us, we aren’t ready to let him go just yet. Is it because I yelled at him when we try to get Oscar back? I am sorry my boy for being too hard at you. *Lamented with black cloud over his head*

———

Jaune: *Shrugged* I am sure they are doing just fine

Neo: *rolled her eyes* And when are you gonna tell them about our relationship?

Jaune: When my jobs are near them. I just wish our scroll were destroyed in the last fight, I don’t even have their number to call them anymore.

Neo: Well, I just hope they would accept us being a thing, not that I care about their opinion on us.

Jaune: *Chuckled* I am sure they are already warm up to you, including you to them.

Neo flip the bird which cause him to laugh even harder.

Jaune: Anyway, I should get going now. I don’t want to worried the villagers with me being gone for a while now. Nice meeting with you, I will call you next week again, Neo.

Neo: *Looked down in sadness* I really miss you… I wish we could have gone together…

Jaune: …Me too… I also wish you could be my side… so I could talk together everyday and hug you all I want… and kiss you all day… but you already know why we separate for now, we have role to fulfill.

Neo: I know… it just suck that you aren’t there when I woke up in the cold, lonely bed, greeting me with that dopey, kind smile of yours to warm my day up.

Jaune: Well… maybe we can arrange something so we could spent a week together in the future

Neo: *Look up with a logging in her eyes and smiled* I would love that.

Suddenly, he can hear an alarm flared up on the other side of the call.

Neo: Well, it seems like they finally noticed their money is missing. They really should use it to upgrade their brain, I am surprised they managed to go this far with it.

Jaune: Neo, what did I say about calling me in the middle of a heist?

Neo: Please, as if you have the right to say that, ‘Mister-who-call-me-even-in-the-middle-of-hoard-of-Grimm’.

Jaune: *Sigh* Fine, just be careful.

Neo: Who do you think I am? *Smirking smugly*

Jaune: Well, that’s it for this week. Don’t forget, it will be your turn next.

Neo: *Rolled eyes* I know, just make sure you remember this number.

Jaune: I won’t, love you dear.

Neo: Love you too. Also, Lyssa, take care of our reckless partner and don’t let him jump into danger.

The sword of destruction began to shine as a small girl appeared on its place and grab hold on Jaune like a Koala, head peaking out so Neo could see her.

Lyssa: Don’t worry, this foolish master of my will not endanger his life as long as I am still by his side.

Neo: That’s good to know… see ya next week.

With the call ended, he gripped his scroll until it shattered under his hand.

Jaune: Well, are you ready for our next mission, Partner?

Lyssa: I want to sweet chocolate cake first! It has been a week since I had one and I believe I deserve one.

Jaune: *Chuckled* Okay, lets ask the chief if the place had any bakery or a cafe.

With that, the wandering knight set forth on his journey even after the war ended 6 months ago, leaving (Not Really) his friends behind as every single one of them have something in mind which they are gonna do to the knight if they find him, if, since it seem like Fate or Gods itself have another thing in mind for him and have taken a liking at his funny story unfolding. But we will see what the future’s hold for them.

[bananielle]

love and suds ♡ 🫧

₊˚.⋆⁺₊ leehan x reader ୨ৎ genres: hurt x comfort. fluff.

5.7k words. cw: lowercase intended. not super proofread. reader wears a bra. negative self talk. crying. dark thoughts. kissing. bathing. if there’s anything else, please let me know! <3 @onedoornet

authors note: blew the dust off this cause i think the longer i wait the more i will want to never ever post it and this was really something i wanted to share. i wrote this a couple months ago to comfort myself when i was really struggling. i went back and took out the very dark stuff cause i felt it messed up the plot and other things and anyways! this isn’t my best writing at all but i hope it can bring even a teensy bit of comfort to anyone who might feel the way reader does. i hope it’s good enough. happy reading baby loves ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა p.s if you’re in a dark place i promise brighter days are written in the stars for u & plz remember u don’t need to be spectacular or do amazing things to be worthy of love & ur wonderful just as u are & u will be okay ♡

you wrestle with the lock of your apartment door, jamming and twisting the key around impatiently, huffing at the lack of compromise it’s giving you. all you’ve wanted to do since you left your safe haven was come right back, curl up in bed and sob into your pillow; life being too much for you to carry on your shoulders lately.

everything was difficult and stressful, and your body was barely standing upright. today was your final straw. any more stress, and you’d crumble into pieces. 

on your way home, you had looked up at the soft wash of pink and orange that was the sky, asking the universe for some kind of break. anything to ease the constant pain you felt. 

you hoped and prayed it would take kindly to your wishes, but as you’re standing here now, fighting to get into your warm home, it seems the universe ignored you. so much for asking you for any favours, you think to yourself bitterly. the thinned string of patience inside you threatens to snap as you ram the key into the lock hole for the sixth time, its stubborn self still refusing to give in. 

you take out the key, then put it back in, turn it as far left as it’ll go, and grab the door handle. you push down on it, and with all the strength you can muster, you bump your shoulder against the door, and suddenly, you’re home at last. 

you quickly shut and lock the door behind you, then kick off your shoes and switch on the main light. it’s quiet inside, despite it being the evening, only the low hum of the air conditioner floating through the place. you had thought your boyfriend would be home at this hour, as he usually is, but perhaps he had to stay longer at his schedules tonight. 

the thought weighs down on your shoulders, tears itching to escape and stream down your cheeks. a dark, heavy feeling settles in your chest. all you’ve wanted after such a long day was to see him. to collapse into his arms and feel his sturdy body against yours. and even if you did end up sobbing into your pillow the entire night, at least leehan would be there for you, laying beside you, rubbing your back and soothing you with his sweet voice, telling you that everything would be alright. 

yn: 0, universe: 2 trillion, you think. 

you’re too tired to feel hungry, and too tired to cook, so you decide to skip dinner. you switch off the main light, walking softly through the kitchen to your bedroom. it’s cold and damp inside, a fitting representation of your feelings. you don’t even have the energy to feel bothered by it. instead, you let yourself feel the goosebumps raise on your arms and the unpleasant chill caress your bare skin. 

you weakly climb onto the bed, forgetting to turn the lights on and not bothering to snuggle up under the covers. you lay there on your side, in your cold, dark room, with your knees tucked into your chest. 

for a while, your mind thinks nothing. 

until, you begin to think about all that’s wrong. a familiar feeling awakens in your veins. or maybe it’s your bones. whichever is deeper, more hurtful, it awakens there and gnaws at you.

the thoughts wash through like a tide, cruel and relentless.

you let out a sob and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, screaming at the voice inside of you to leave you alone. your breaths come in short and panicked, and you scramble your mind to find something to tether yourself to, something to ground you and make you feel real again. 

a moment passes, and then, you see his face. 

you see his pretty smile and the even prettier dimples adorning it, a little part of you wishing you could live inside of them; safe and stored away from the hideous world. his soft eyes, all sparkling and starry appear and you try to remember how they look at you so lovingly. you see his hands tangled in yours, warm and safe and sturdy. you remember, as hard as you can, how they felt and you hold that feeling close to your heart, hoping it would soothe its rapid beats. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. you repeat like a prayer. your body relaxes. 

your breaths start to slow and you finally gulp in deeper breaths. but the relief doesn’t last for long, when you realise the pictures of your boyfriend in your mind are just that. pictures. he is not here. 

a frustrated burn settles in the back of your eyes, and you feel wet lines travel down your temples. your body shakes with every cry that escapes you, a puddle of wet forming on the covers. you sob for a while, until your head turns heavy and your eyes can barely stay open. 

please come home, leehan. i need you. 

you wish again to the universe, pleading it to do you a kindness and bring comfort to you, just this once. you hug yourself tightly while hoping for your boyfriend to come home, sniffling every now and then as your cries come to quiet. several minutes pass of you in the dark, cold and heartbroken, a heaviness stuck in the air. 

sleep nearly comes to your aid, but it’s not quick enough. you’re still awake to hear the distant, muffled sound of a key turning, and then clink of the front door unlocking. 

your heart soars in your chest. you sleepily wonder if it’s a dream, staying ever so still as you strain your ears for more sound. 

“yn? are you home, angel?” a weak sob escapes your lips at the comforting sound of leehan’s voice. you don’t know whether to smile or continue crying, so you do a strange combination of both. 

“in here”, you reply. but your voice isn’t loud enough. it’s raspy and weak, the words scraping your throat like glass as you spoke them. 

you wait a few heartbeats longer, hopeful and excited, watching the door, wondering if leehan was coming to find you.

soon enough, just as you wished, leehan finds you.

he shuffles into the pitch-dark room, turning on the light to see better. the moment he spots you, he nearly crumbles. a look of concern contort his features as walks towards your limp body and softly asks, “baby? wha- what’s wrong? are you okay? how long have you been like this?” his words spill out rushed, each one carrying more weight than the last.

he lowers himself onto the bed, adjusting himself so he’s sitting next to you, and reaches out an urgent hand out to brush away pieces of hair that stuck to your tear-stained face. “oh, baby”, he coos, stroking your hair gently. “talk to me” 

you look up at him through glassy eyes, and you break out into more sobs when you see how he gazes at you. so much concern and compassion glimmer in his eyes, it tugs at your heartstrings. his sweet words pick apart every tense nerve in your body. 

you hide your face in your hands as you cry, your breaths coming in so short and quick, they cut off every word you try to speak. 

“shh, baby. i’m here.” leehan comforts, as he leans down to place a kiss to your shoulder as one of his hands massages your back, up and down, soothingly. 

after a few more sobs and shh’s from leehan, you find a moment to take deep breaths and wipe your eyes. your limbs fight against you after being stuck in the same position for so long as you adjust yourself to sit up. you avoid his laser gaze, knowing that if you looked into his eyes, you fear the tears would never end. 

once you’ve sat up, you cross your legs and take in a shaky breath. the hand that leehan dragged up and down your back, now rests on your thigh. his other one finds the small of your back and stays there. 

you breath out deeply before speaking. 

“i’m just so tired, leehan.” your voice cracks and scratches but you don’t care enough to clear your throat. 

“i had such an awful day. i’ve been having awful days. and my head hurts so much. and my heart won’t stop beating like crazy. i feel it every second of the day and it scares me so much. everything is too much for me. i’m lost and confused and just. tired. ”, more tears stream down your cheeks, and you need to take in another deep breath before continuing. your hand finds leehans’ on your thigh and holds it tight for comfort. 

a weighted silence drifts upon the air. slowly, you look up from the random spot on the covers you’ve been trained on and meet leehan’s eyes. 

tears glisten at the edges of them, the look of concern vanished, replaced by utter sadness. his eyes trace every feature of your face, as if to find the answer to his question.

“oh, my love” he says, his voice hushed, nearly falling into a whisper. “why didn’t you tell me sooner? to know that you’ve been carrying this weight on your shoulders all by yourself, it breaks my heart. you know that’s why i’m here right? to help you carry the heavy things” 

“i-i know, leehan” you look down at your intertwined hands. “i don’t know why i didn’t, i’m sorry. i think i just, i didn’t want to burden you. i thought i could figure it out myself. make it go away on my own”, you shrug, not even realising how you’d kept your feelings a secret, subconsciously hiding them under a smile.

leehan suddenly cups your face in his hands, his eyes serious but his tone gentle. “you never have to be on your own. not as long as i’m here”, he sniffles as his eyes water more. your heart splinters at the sight. 

“please listen to me, baby. look at me” he makes sure he’s locked his gaze into yours when he says, “i am always here for you. always. i want to hear what you have to say. everything. don’t ever think you can’t come to me. you don’t have to be alone, i promise.” 

leehan kisses your forehead, so softly and sweetly, it prompts your body to shudder. your entire being is overcome by the love it holds for him. 

thank you, universe. 

“thank you” you say quietly, giving him the biggest smile you can muster. both your hands cover his own, your thumbs rubbing the backs of them lightly. “i love you. i promise to come to you. promise i’ll tell you things.” 

a slow smile spreads across his face, and he plants another kiss to your forehead, this time, lingering on the spot. he pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears.

“let me take care of you, okay? i’ll run you a bath, get you all cleaned up and relaxed. how does that sound, baby?”, he asks eagerly.

your words seemed to have run away at leehan’s compassion, so all you do is nod your head tiredly, giving him a soft smile. 

leehan enters the bathroom with you in his arms, stopping to turn on the light before setting you down on the fluffy rug in the middle of the floor. it feels plush and warm against your socked feet, a comforting change compared to the cool draft in the bedroom. you press yourself further into it, really making sure you’re standing firmly on the ground, planted and unmoving.

he glides over to the bath, twisting the knob to the right so the dial lands right where it’s nearly too hot, just how you like it. the rush of water fills the room, the strong current of the faucet beating against the plastic tub, and again you feel comforted, no longer trapped in your thoughts when pleasant distractions feed all your senses. your eyes study leehan as he feels the water with his fingers, adjusting the dial a few times before turning back to you.

without saying a word, he scoops you into his embrace once more, bringing you to the sink and sitting you down on the edge of the counter. he kisses your cheek tenderly before opening a mirrored cabinet to sift through and bringing out your entire skincare routine, lining up each bottle in their respective order. a bright, warm glow begins to fill your chest. 

he bends down to open up a cupboard, and remerges with a small towel in his hand, then turns on the sink, checking to see if the water is lukewarm. he wets the towel, rings it, then repeats the action. after a few more soaks and rings, he places himself between your legs, then gently presses the towel to your face. 

“close your eyes for me, pretty” he instructs quietly, his voice low and smooth. 

leehan works in a methodical rhythm until every inch of your skin is made damp. his touches are so gentle and filled with love, you feel light-headed. you wonder in awe at how lucky you got with him. that such loving, gentle boy is all yours. a tiny, secret smile pulls the corners of your mouth.

“does that feel good, baby?” he purrs, taking notice of your not-so-secret smile. 

“mm-hm, more than good” you respond, looking up at him softly. he smiles back at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. 

leehan moves carefully as he applies your face wash, rubbing circles on your face firmly but gingerly, then taking the same wet towel to rinse it off. he works in silence whilst massaging every one of your serums and moisturisers into your face, as he’s seen you apply them yourself a million times, slowly and thoughtfully in an effort to relax you. the cold sensation of the creams and his sturdy fingers send shivers down your spine. 

“there we go. all done”. leehan strokes his thumbs over your cheeks one last time, then leans in to kiss your lips. it’s short and sweet, his lips soft and warm. 

the sound of the rushing water must have become white noise to you both, because when you turn your attention to the tub, it’s nearly filled to the brim. leehan goes to shut off the faucet, but not before adding in your favourite soap, swirling the steaming water around with his hand, making a clean, bubbly scent waft through the air. it’s familiar to you, a reassuring sense that helps you attach yourself to the present moment.  you’re here and you’re okay, you soothe to yourself. 

he walks back to you, hooking a strong arm around your back and placing the other under your knees, lifting you off the counter and placing you back on the fluffy rug. 

“let’s take these icky clothes off of you. arms up.” he says quietly, his honey voice nearly humming the words. 

you obey, reaching your arms up in the air, letting him put his hands under your shirt and gently lift it up and over your head. he’s seen you in your bra plenty of times before, but somehow, the intimacy of this moment makes you shy away and cover up. 

“hey…” he looks down at you, a slight twinkle in his eye. he gently pulls your arms away from your chest. “it’s just me, baby” 

“i know…” you respond shyly… “i just…” you trail off, looking down at your feet. 

“don’t worry, love. i can leave to let you undress. just let me know when you’re done.” he goes to leave, but you stop him quickly, grabbing his hand.

“no! no, please stay. i’m just a little overwhelmed…with love, i think. that’s all”, you say to the floor quietly. 

all leehan does is gaze at you fondly, the tiniest giggling leaving his mouth. “okay. i’ll be gentle with you, i promise” he reassures as he reaches his hands out to unclasp your bra.

they’re warm and sturdy, like they always are. the way his fingertips brush against your exposed skin so delicately gives you goosebumps. you didn’t know how it was possible to miss him so much, despite seeing him only this morning, and having him in front of you now, but here you are, longing for him so deeply. 

he undoes the clasp, then hooks his fingers through the straps, gently gliding it down your arms. once it’s off, he gathers it nicely and places it in on the sink, along with your shirt.

his hands continue to brush down your arms, the grazing of his finger tips like a ghost against your skin. he never lets go of your gaze as he kisses down your stomach. you gasp lightly at the way his lips travel down your body so lovingly, as if he was made just to worship you. 

he stops just before the button of your pants, then carefully undoes them, easing the piece of clothing down your legs slowly. you lift each foot out of the holes. 

leehan grabs the back of your calf, lifting it slightly to press a soft kiss to your shin, then takes off your sock. he does the same to your other leg, then folds up your jeans and sets them down near your folded shirt and bra. 

his eyes never leave yours as he runs his fingertips along your collarbone, the soft pads finding your shoulders to rest there. “my beautiful baby,” he coos. “let’s get you washed up.” 

leehan rolls up his long sleeve shirt, cuffing it at the elbows, then as tenderly as he can, he scoops you up and walks you over to the tub. his eyes never leave your face as he lowers you into the hot, bubbly water, careful not to hurt you. 

“how’s the temperature? is it warm enough?” 

“it’s perfect, leehan” you say, because it was. everything about this moment was perfect. 

“good”, he smiles softly. “i’ll be right back, okay?” and then he quietly leaves the bathroom. you rest your back against the side of the tub, leaning your head back on the side. the water is so warm, it feels like it reaches your bones. it melts away your worries like butter, until every evil word you had thought to yourself becomes smudged and muddled, a distant memory. 

you play with the bubbles, scooping up a handful, then blowing it into the air, watching as the sparkly, white clouds float every which way. your heart finally begins to slow down, resuming a normal pace. you’re warm and cradled and safe, all thanks to leehan. you could nearly cry again at his loving actions. how incredibly lucky you were to have him. 

your love returns a few minutes later with a rolled up towel, walking into the separate shower to grab your wash cloth and body wash, then kneels near the tub behind you. he lifts up your head slightly, then pushes the towel underneath as a little makeshift pillow.

you study his upside down face carefully. his cheeks are slightly blushed from the heat of the bath, and the front pieces of his hair are curling slightly from it, too. there’s something so sweet in his eyes — you can’t quite explain it. but it makes you glow on the inside. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. my leehan. 

he beams down at you, stroking your head. “do you need to wash your hair tonight?” he asks, searching your eyes.

you simply shake your head no, too relaxed and soothed to speak. he nods, then takes the wash cloth and dips it in the tub.

he squirts your favourite body wash on it, then begins to rub it in your skin soothingly. the pressure of his strong hands, the warmth of the water, and the slight tingle of the texture of the cloth against your skin overwhelms you with relaxation. 

with each gentle rub, your pain washes away, lost to the mountains of bubbles. your mind goes blank, but not unpleasantly. it’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. at peace, in a way.

for a long time, leehan tends to you. his forearms are soaked, covered in tiny white bubbles, some even reaching up his cuffed sleeve. he holds every part of you so tenderly, as if you were the most precious being he’ll ever know. he’s careful to wash off any excess icky-ness of the day, humming lowly as he does. 

his fingers begin to prune, as do yours, and the bubbles begin to subside. he cups his hands in the water and uses it to wash off any leftover soap still stuck to your skin. you’ve passed the state of relaxation now, completely lost in bliss from leehan’s caresses.

as you hug your knees to your chest, he tells you to lift your head up off the little towel. two strong hands grip your shoulders, massaging them lazily. his hands rub the tense muscles for a few minutes, sending tingling sensations down your spine. 

“love you so much, darling. so so much” he purrs into your ear softly before letting his warm lips trail down your neck. he reaches one hand across your face to cup your cheek, turning your head ever so slightly. his fingers slide to rest under your chin, and he slowly lifts your head up so you’re looking right in his eyes. 

“you’re everything to me, yn. everything” he says, then presses his mouth to yours softly. he deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you let him in, allowing your tongue to tangle with his. he lingers in your mouth for a while, languidly tasting you over and over again. he finally breaks away, his cheeks slightly flushed. 

your own cheeks are blushed as well, your breath stuck in your throat slightly, in awe of the kiss. 

leehan uses his thumbs to guide your eyelids closed to press feather-light kisses to each one, then he wanders all over your face, not letting any inch of skin go un-kissed. one last time, his lips finds yours again. 

you look up at him sleepily, so relaxed and soothed, you could fall asleep right there. the harsh cold and sadness of before long gone. he notices your sleepiness. 

“ready for bed, my love?” 

“mm-hmm” you hum in response, your lids fluttering closed as you let him scoop you out of the tub and stand you up carefully. he quickly gets your robe off of its hook, then wraps it around your body, guiding each of your arms through the sleeves. he snugs it around you as tight as possible before tying the strap around your waist. he goes to empty the tub, the water beginning to drain with a large gurgle. 

leehan turns you around by the shoulders, guiding you to the closet so you can get dressed in your pyjamas. you stand in the middle of the closet, studying your boyfriend as he contently sifts through your drawers, trying to find your comfiest set of pyjamas.

“ah—these ones! these are so cute, baby. and they’re nice and warm. what do you think, hm?” he turns to look at you with sparkling eyes, a hint of playfulness in them. 

“yeah, those will work leehan” you let out a breathy laugh, completely amused by the fact that leehan thought these pyjamas are cute, all pink and adorned with hearts. 

he goes to unwrap your robe and delicately slide it off of you, letting it pool at your feet. the sudden cold air makes you cover yourself, prompting leehan to coo and hastily bring your pyjama top over your head.

“here, baby”, he says softly. the warm fabric gives you immediate relief, eliciting a sigh out of you. he bends down to put on the fluffy pants, gently holding your the back of your calves as he does so. you help him bring them up all the way, to which leehan lifts your top slightly to plant a sneaky kiss to your stomach. 

“hey!” you giggle. “that tickles” 

he smiles up at you sweetly, his fluffy brown hair covering his pretty eyes. “oh!” he perks up suddenly.  “i forgot your socks!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet to go through your sock drawer. he grabs the warmest, fluffiest pair he can find. 

once he’s put them on your feet, he wastes no time in scooping you up in his arms for the nth time that night. he walks you to the bed, switching off the bathroom light on his way out. even though it’s a brief walk, you snuggle up to him close, your head finding the crook of his neck to rest in. you place a soft kiss to the area of skin, then another, and another, until you’ve placed as many as you can before he sets you down gently. 

he adjusts the covers so you can cuddle up underneath them, and you slide your body under them and snuggle up as much as possible, making yourself cozy. 

leehan pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking in the rest around around body, making sure you’re as warm as can be. he sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. after a moment, he speaks.

“you should eat something warm. how about some soup?” he asks. 

“that sounds lovely”, you say quietly, “thank you, leehanie. for…for everything”, squeezing his hand to punctuate the words. 

“it’s what i’m here for, darling.” he stands, then gives you a quick peck on your forehead, then leaves as he says “i’ll be back soon”

my leehan. you think as you watch him go. your eyes stay trained on the door way, your ears listening to the soft chinks of the dishes and the quiet closing of cupboards, and the occasional crinkle of a packet.

you wait patiently for your love. thanking the stars a million times over for him. how lucky you were for them to align just so, allowing you to be together.

just a couple hours ago, you were laying in this same spot, curled up into a sad, miserable ball, sobbing at how cruel your mind and the world was. you had wanted nothing more than the bed to swallow you whole. 

but then, he came home to you. and here you are now, underneath toasty covers, and you felt alright. you were comforted and relaxed, but most importantly, you were loved.

you lay in silence for a few long minutes, the occasional drip of the faucet hitting the bottom of the tub floating through the room. you trace random shapes with your eyes on the ceiling. just as your finishing tracing a heart, leehan walks in with a warm bowl of soup, soft swirls of steaming from it into the air. 

“it’s still a little hot but it shouldn’t take long to cool down” he says, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to you. he gives it a few stirs with the spoon, then turns his attention back to you. he smiles softly as he sits down next to you, fiddling the with warm duvet to snuggle you up more. 

he takes the bowl of comfort food in his hands with the towel. “open up” leehan lifts the spoon to your lips, then slowly tips it so you can swallow the warm liquid. 

“is it good?” he asks hopefully. 

“mm-hmm, it’s lovely. feels good to eat something warm” you respond sleepily, opening your mouth again as another spoonful comes towards you.

leehan feeds you lovingly in the perfect, comfortable quiet that envelopes you two. he makes sure you’ve eaten it all, until the bowl is just barely streaked with soup. when the spoon stops being useful, he brings the bowl to your lips and holds the back of your head gently as you drink up the rest. 

“i’ll go wash up the dishes. it’s not much, but if you feel like you need to sleep, don’t wait up for me, okay? rest. i love you, baby”. he kisses off an excess spot of soup at the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to your forehead.

“i love you” you tell him softly.

you watch him go with heavy eyelids and a warm, full belly. 

you don’t fall asleep just yet, even though you feel sleep tugging at your brain and body. you nearly drift off, but jerk yourself awake. you wanted to wait for leehan.

he was so wonderful to you today, so caring and compassionate. your heart squeezes as your mind recounts the details of the night. every little moment of leehan caring for you making a content smile tug at your lips. 

by the time he comes back into the room, your eyes are barely able to stay open.

“you’re still awake? you didn’t have to wait for me, yn.” he offers you a sweet smile as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes. 

“i know, i wanted to though. i want some cuddles” you say gently.

“you’re gonna get lots of cuddles, i promise.” you feel leehan’s weight dip the bed as he climbs in next to you.

before he can say anything else, you decide to speak. “i’m sorry, leehan. i was such a mess today”, you say quietly, fiddling with the top of the covers. 

“baby, wha-what?”, a sudden look of concern paints his face, his eyebrows quirking up in confusion.

his eyes look at you sadly. “what do you have to be sorry for?” he breathes out, his hand cupping your cheek softly, his thumb making soothing strokes. 

“i-i just…” your words get caught in your throat, and you feel the prickle of tears behind your eyes. a sob threatens to leave you, so you take a deep breath before speaking again. 

“i just dumped so much on you, you know? out of nowhere. you came home and there i was, a complete sobbing mess. just dumping so much of emotions onto you, with no warning. i didn’t even ask you about your day. i’m sorry you had to see me that way…i’m such a burden”. the well-known dark feeling enters your chest again, the rampant monster in your mind waiting to pounce. 

“oh, angel” he sighs. leehan takes his hand off your cheek to grab one of yours, holding it so tightly, you wonder if he thinks you’ll slip away if he let go. 

he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. 

he studies you earnestly. “don’t ever be sorry for being open with me. you’re not a bother. you’re the furthest thing from it. it’s okay if you were a mess. i’m a mess sometimes. and when i am, you’re always there to care for me. why wouldn’t i do the same for you?” he pauses briefly, as if to make sure he doesn’t cry.

“it breaks my heart to know you feel the way you do, yn. you deserve the whole world” his voice cracks slightly at the end. leehan says the words with so much fervor and love, you want to believe him, so badly, but your mind continues to build blocks. you hate yourself for it, and he sees it written on your face.

“please hear me when i say this, my love” he squeezes your hand tight, bringing it to his heart. “i promise you’re good enough. i know you feel small sometimes. but please believe me when i say you are good enough. you work so so hard, and you’re so talented. i see how much you sacrifice to do well. you’re kind and thoughtful and smart. and really, really gorgeous…” he trails off, letting out a breathy laugh. his eyes begin to twinkle.

“you still make my heart race, y’know that? every time i look at you, it goes crazy. just for you and only you…i know i’m not the best with words, but, i really do love you. and you mean everything to me. i don’t need or want you to be perfect or put-together all the time. i want to see all the parts to you.  don’t be sorry for your feelings, please. and don’t be afraid to come to me, alright? nothing about you is ever too much for me, angel. there’s no such thing.” 

you quite literally feel like you could burst into a million pieces at that very moment. no one has or will ever make you feel as loved as leehan. the world would have to end before you even tried to figure that out. you really try to hear him, try to cement the words into your heart, to will away the dark thoughts. they might not disappear entirely, but you had leehan. your sweet leehan, who would never let you go through it alone. 

a few tears have made their way down your cheeks again, and his. he places your hand down gently, then leans down to kiss away your tears. he takes his time, slowly licking up the salty trails. he cups your face, stroking your reddened cheeks soothingly. he kisses every part of your face until there’s no part of skin that hasn’t been touched. 

you take his face in your hands, brushing away stray pieces of hair from his eyes. “my leehan”, you dote, “i love you so much. what would i do without you?”

he brings his lips to yours, softly at first. the kiss is light, barely a touch. he pulls away, just for a moment, to look into your eyes. he kisses you again, but deeper this time, a way for you to say i love you better than his words could tell. it’s passionate and intimate and vulnerable, and it tastes of your salty tears and his vanilla chapstick. your stray fingers tug at his hair slightly, pressing him closer to you. it’s a thank you kiss. an i love you kiss. a kiss that says i’ll never leave you.

after a few moments, he slowly breaks away from you. your eyes still closed. carefully, they flutter open to see a dazed, dreamy-eyed leehan and with every fiber of his being, with every piece of his heart, he says, “i love you, yn. i’ll love you forever”

taglist — @whyilovewhales-pdf @uriwoos2

[soodoonimin]

Imagine if you will…a universe where soulmates are determined (insert your fav soulmate trope). And you have James “Logan” Howlett who despite living in this universe his whole life doesn’t have this indication of a soulmate. It never really bothered him as a kid but after he lost his memory, he took it as another sign that he wasn’t human, that he wasn’t worthy of love.

Until one day, he suddenly gets this indication and he’s equal parts confused and relieved. He thinks it’s a joke at first, it has to be a sick joke right? But the indication stays, and so he decides it safe to start looking for his soulmate.

But he doesn’t find them and because of this, falls back into his old thinking patterns “I’m not worthy of love” “this was a joke from the universe” etc.

Then one day while he’s in a bar, drinking for those few precious minutes of peace, someone enters from a door that wasn’t there before. He’s loud, annoying, and killing Logan’s buzz but for some reason he can’t help but feel drawn to the stranger. He doesn’t give it much thought because he gave up on finding his soulmate years ago (and this guy isn’t even from the same universe) so maybe the only reason he’s attracted to him is because he’s the only one who’s been nice to him in decades.

The rest of the story from the movie plays out as it does, except for the fact that for Logan their this nagging feeling that this guy who kidnapped him is important somehow, not to the universe or whatever but to him.

Regardless of that he doesn’t want to ruin his life so he decides he’s going to live on his own once this is all over BUT he doesn’t because when Wade calls him he feels this inexplicable urge to answer. So they live together.

The next day after they save Wade’s universe, Logan wakes up to the smell of breakfast he walks into the kitchen to see Wade in his shortsleeved pajamas and on his wrist there it is. Proof. That this man, who dragged him out of his miserable existence was his soulmate.

Logan points it out and how does Wade respond “Oh that? Yeah I don’t know it showed up a few years ago…thought it was strange but stranger things have happened.”

He’s ready to brush it off until Logan shows him the matching mark.

And it clicks for Logan. Time stops.

Logan has found his soulmate and just…relief so much relief washes over him and starts to cry, slowly at first but soon he’s full on sobbing and Wade is confused as fuck but once Logan is able to compose himself, he explains, though his words are shaky and he’s scared because he doesn’t know how Wade will feel about any of this.

Wade didn’t even know he could have one and he realizes Logan’s worry and says something like “I ain’t mad…if that’s what you’re worried about. If I had to be stuck with anyone I’m glad it’s you, peanut.”

[nina-renmen]

How Male demon Kny Characters are in bed pt.1

I seen something like this on here and I thought I’d hop on the bandwagon. Minors DNI!! (This isn’t revised or edited)

This can either go one of two ways. He either A) is super gentle and sweet. He’d most likely prep you before and initiate aftercare. But this would only happen if you two were together for a long time (like three years for example) and the relationship is serious. He might be rough with you if you asked him to or he had a bad day. But let’s just say this man lives for plush thighs. Especially if you sit and your thighs go into ‘pillow mode.’ It drives him crazy. Or B) He’s super rough with you. Not that you mind, but he could be a bit more gentler with you. He dosn’t prep you as much as he would if you guys were together for a long time. He wouldn’t be much for Praise instead he’d be a bit more degrading. Aftercare would happen but it wouldn’t be as sweet. He might lay with you or take a nap or a bath with you but that’s about it.

This man is instantly respectful towards you. Especially if you’re a woman. If you’re a girl he’d see you as a delicate flower that needs to be taken care of and protected. But if you wrap your legs around his waist while he’s thrusting into you it’s like a switch that’s turned off. He’s instantly burying his face in the crook of your neck, he may or may not bite you. His thrusts will go deeper and harder, his grip on your wrists will tighten and he’ll pull you closer into him. He might even put you in a mating press. Either way, whether he’s feral or he’s gentle he’ll always praise how tight you are, or how pretty you sound.

He lives between your thighs….No one can change my mind. If this man could, he’d eat you out all day, every day. But sadly he can’t since he has his duties to attend. But don’t think that he won’t take a quick snack early in the morning or just before you go to bed. This man has no shame. He urges you to scream his name, to let all of his followers know who’s making you feel this good. He loves it when you pull his hair. The harder you pull his hair the more he’ll eat you out. He likes to see you on top of him from time to time. He loves looking up at you, especially if you’re struggling to take him fully. He wants you to ask for help, so he won’t move to help you out until you push your pride aside and ask him to take over.

I feel like he’s a bit more traditional since he was raised in a different era. Hell court you first before me makes any sexual gestures or tries to take you. When that does happen, you’ll find out that he has a lot , A LOT of energy. He’ll fuck you from dawn all the way to dusk if you let him. If he’s feeling a particular way he’ll put you in a mating press so you can’t squirm as much. He likes seeing you struggle at times when you’re overstimulated. He’ll tease you until you’re crying and begging him to just get on with it. He’s in the middle about making you scream for him. One part of him wants you to scream his name, and moan so everyone knows who’s making you feel goo. But the other part of him dosn’t want that. He feels that only he should be able to hear your moans. None of the others are worthy of hearing such a tune.

Bottom…..That’s all I have to say. The first time is his actual first time. He’s never even touched a woman sexually before. Sure he’s thought about it, but he’s clueless. You’d have to take the lead. He’s be a little bit stiff at first, he wants it he really does. But he dosn’t know where to put his hands. You’re gonna have to teach him how to make you feel good. But don’t worry he’s a quick learner. After a night or two your positions will switch and your thighs will be squeezing around his head. Gyutaro is another one who will eat you out all day, every day. The only thing that’s different from Doūma is that he actually has the time to do it. So if you agree to it, he’ll shove his face in between your thighs until the sun goes down. If you try and move away from him because of overstimulation he’ll only pull you back and hold your lower half slightly above the ground so you can wiggle free.

[heartkaji]

★ ALVINNN !! ⸺ AND THE WINBRE BOYS ?!

synopsis ୨ৎ : relationship dynamics i think the winbre boys would have based on the chipmunks & chipettes

notes ୨ৎ : had this idea while rewatching alvin & the chip-munks with my baby brother </3 missed this show sm

❤︎ TOGAME JO — SIMON & JEANETTE

stay with me here.

i don’t mean simon & jeanette in the sense that two of you are nerds or anything. when i think simon and jeanette, i think emotionally mature simon and anxious girlfriend jeanette who’s always in need of simon’s reassurance ( they’re so cute i want to eat them )

it’s like that with you and jo. togame is more mature and the bigger person in every situation. he never lets you two go to bed angry, and he’ll appologize first, even in times when he thinks he’s not in the wrong. togame also NEVER raises his voice. never ever. i can’t imagine him & yelling in the same sentence. so even in heated arguments where you’re screaming and crying with mascara running down your cheeks togame stays gentle and quiet, fingers pressed into his palm so tight he’s nearly bleeding because god you’re crying and he has no fucking idea what he can say to help you calm down. he doesn’t even care about what you guys were fighting about anymore, he just needs you to feel better. ( GODDDD WHERE IS MY TOGAME 😭⁉️)

anxious attachment girlies your time has come

with togame your anxiety is never triggered. you have his location and all his passwords, and he’s 100% not the kind of guy who asks for yours in return. he also calls you to let you know when he’ll be running late. i wish i could lie and tell you he doesn’t leave you on read, but he canonically doesn’t text. he has a custom ringtone just for your contact though, so often times he’ll call you in response or send you a voice message. either way you’ll get some kind of answer, togame isn’t into ignoring you in any shape or form.

NEVER EVER disrespects you, and I’m not talking verbal disrespect or anything like that. i mean togame doesn’t like pictures of any woman other than you on his instagram, doesn’t borrow girls his jacket even to be polite, doesn’t help them pay—he’s your walking wallet only. he would never ever be caught dead doing anything that could cause someone to mistake him as being close to any girl other than you. he’s so perfect it’s insane.

togame also isn’t into playing games. he communicates anything and everything he’s uncomfortable with and sets boundaries in the sweetest possible manner. “i dont like it when you do that, baby. you can do this instead, okay ?” he says all of this while thumbing your cheek and pressing his lips to your forehead . he encourages you to commmunicate with him as well. if you’re more on the shy side and struggle with setting boundaries, it’s cool because togame does it for you. if he does something and notices a change in your demeanor, he makes a mental note to never do it again. he doesn’t voice out his observations though, he knows you so he knows your first reaction would be to deny that you’re uncomfortable. when it comes to communication, he’ll never press you, but he always makes it clear that he’s ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.

boyfriend rating : ∞/10 ; better not break up with him, this man is one in a billion.

❤︎ AKIHIKO NIREI — THEODORE & ELEANOR

i think this was very obvious LMAOO

i feel like a lot of people think of theo and eleanor as the sunshine duo, but theodore is actually pretty soft and shy. the dynamic between them is much like i described for simon and jeanette, except here the roles are reversed.

theodore is extremely talented, has lots of potential really, but is always putting himself down, much like nirei. you play eleanor, always encouraging nirei to think better of himself and put himself out there, even when he thinks it’s a terrible idea.

i feel nirei, like theodore, always overcompensates. i mean he feels he’s not worthy of you so he always goes out of his way to make you a little something, give you a little gift, just anything to make him feel like he’s not dead weight tying you down in this relationship with him. he’ll never tell you he feels this way & so you’ll never know & be able to reassure him or tell him otherwise, but when you smile with blood tinged nose and kiss his cheeks in appreciation like he’s the only boy on earth, he thinks that’s all the reassurance he needs.

if you have avoidant attachement issues i am respectfully asking you to stay the hell away from him. HE CANNOT HANDLE IT. your constant hot and cold drives him crazy and affects him more than the average person. nirei is someone who loves and feels deeply. he’ll overthink even the smallest things, whether that’s you leaving him on read or a comment about how clingy he is. like i said nirei overcompensates, so when he’s more comfortable in the relationship he gets very affectionate; not in terms of physical touch ( he still needs you to initiate that most of the time, the best he can give by himself are hugs ) but in terms of words of affirmation, acts of service and gift giving. if you comment on how he’s been doing too much for you these days, even if you’re speaking from a place of ’you’re doing so much for me, you should take some time for yourself’, he’ll misinterpret it as you getting sick of him. he tries to tone his acts of affection down, but then he’s plagued with the fear of you leaving him because he’s not doing enough. it’s an endless cycle :( my poor baby please treat him well </3

boyfriend rating : 5.5/10. i fear his insecurity & trouble comunicating makes dating him difficult, and his constant need for reassurance can get suffocating.

❤︎ ENDO YAMATO — ALVIN & BRITTANY

when i think alvin and brittany i think teasing ( but whipped ) boyfriend and done with his antics girlfriend.

that’s you and endo one hundred percent. endo yamoto is always up to no good, making cheeky comments or hiding your stuff just to rile you up and get a reaction out of you. you’re so fucking done with him—you don’t even know why you’re still dating this bastard but on midsummer days when endo decides to be more boy less devil you’re reminded ( just a little ) of why you love him.

endo yamoto has his sweet moments. of course it’s obvious he worships you like a god, but you often forget because of his troublesome nature. endo yamato is always thinking of you. it’s evident in how he always comes home with one or two trinkets that reminded him of you, whether it’s something he saw in the window of an antique shop or a pretty rock with colors that match your eyes.

endo is also very clingy. when you’re doing your makeup, getting ready to go out, endo tugs you out of your vanity chair and sits down so he can pull you into his lap, arms snug around your waist as he buries his nose into your neck. the feeling of his breath warm against your shoulder blades is distracting and it’s even worse when he’s dragging his lips across your skin. you knock his head with a makeup brush to get him to pull away even if just for a second, but he only responds with a grunt before his palm trails it’s way up & under your shirt.

yeah, he’s fucking impossible.

but it’s endearing. also did i mention he’s constantly teasing you ? he’s your own personal bully. but god forbid someone tries to make a fool out of you. if it’s a girl, he hurls the most gruesome insults he can think of, and if it’s a guy, lets just say the local hospital is gonna be taking in one more patient tonight ( he is UNHINGED, but we love him regardless )

boyfriend rating : 7/10. he’s a good boyfriend, but can get pretty possessive and extreme sometimes. also he often hurts your feelings on accident </3

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[meowzfordayz]

when you’re laughing nonstop

Author’s Note: humor isn’t exactly my selling point, so pls and ty enjoy my attempt(s) @ #funny. 🙃

when you’re laughing nonstop

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: explicit language

Emergency Request Fulfilled: If by any chance could you do the Hashira or the the kamboko squad, without trying to, makes the reader laugh like so hard they're crying, and any time they talk the reader just laughs more? (Idk if youve ever had those moments but those are the best laughs lol) How would they react?

~faqs~

When you’re laughing nonstop…

… Zenitsu panics, because he thinks you’re laughing at him?! It doesn’t help that after literally anything he says or does, you burst into giggles… and your inability to explain that you’re laughing with him rather than at him (albeit, he isn’t exactly laughing — more so pouting) due to the constant onslaught of giggles only exacerbates his panic and confusion.

… Inosuke thinks it’s a competition. “DID YOU REALLY BELIEVE YOU COULD OUT LAUGH ME?!” *cue maniacal laughing fit*  Meanwhile, you’re clutching your stomach, gasping for air, and entirely unable to inform him that: It isn’t a competition, idiot!

… Gyomei, the poor man, is just trying to meditate, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re snorting every other second, your efforts to conceal your laughter less than successful. He doesn’t have the heart to ask you to leave, but he does gently (and sternly) cradle your head to his chest (he’s hoping his pulse’ll calm you), exasperated smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when you instead dampen his happi with your tears (from laughing so hard).

… Obanai tries to act irritated, but the twinkle in your eyes as you cling hopelessly to his haori’s sleeve, body shaking with laughter, is too endearing for him to maintain his facade. “Are you done?” he asks, indifference nearly giving way to a fond smile. “N-no!” you manage to gasp, promptly dissolving into another round of laughter, “Not even c-close!”

… Tanjirou waits for you to get it out of your system, smiling brightly the entire time. He doesn’t quite understand what’s so funny—all of his attempts to ask you result in half finished sentences interrupted by more laughter—but he does know you’re happy, and if you’re happy, then he’s happy! 

… your tears initially worry Mitsuri, but once she’s confident that they’re happy tears, and after observing that she seems to be the reason behind them, she brings you a handkerchief and does her best to prolong your laughter (facepalm worthy puns are her specialty).

… Shinobu clucks her tongue, already knowing you’re eventually going to end up with the hiccups. “W-where are you *hiccup* g-oing?” you whine, eyes narrow with suspicion, “Don’t leave meee!” Rolling her eyes, she lightly flicks your forehead, voice wry with amusement, “I’m getting you a glass of water,” raising an eyebrow as you hiccup again, “You’re clearly going to need it,” pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, “I’m not leaving you.”

… Kyojuro watches you with great interest, and mild concern. It only happened once, but once was enough. (it being you choking on your own spit from laughing too hard, and almost passing out because he didn’t realize you were actually choking versus laughing)

… Sanemi swears you’ve been possessed by the devil. “Nothing in this world is that funny,” he grumbles, swatting away your fingers as you attempt to pinch his cheeks, “Stop it.” Of course, his petulant grimace only makes you giggle harder, and you know he isn’t really mad when he finally acquiesces and allows you to wield his hand: “Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” as you playfully smack his face with his palm, your delighted, triumphant grin soothing the glower in his stare. #the man is whipped #the man is in love

… Muichiro smiles ruefully, toe throbbing as you laugh and point at his misfortune. “A-are you o-okay?” you gasp between chuckles, “That chair really did a number on you!” What’s important to him is knowing that, were it a serious injury, you’d help first, laugh later… right?

… Giyuu prays it’ll end soon. Don’t get him wrong! He adores your smile, wishes he could bottle up your laughter for a rainy day, and overall cherishes your happiness… but he simply doesn’t know what to do when the giggles strike. Should I stand here and wait? Would now be an inappropriate time to go do laundry? Uh oh… they’re getting closer… if they get ahold of you, then you’ll have to stand here and wait… shit! *insert Giyuu awkwardly patting your head as you sob-laugh-sniffle into his chest*

… Tengen swells with pride, muscles subconsciously flexing, hair subtly shining, eyes glimmering. Who cares if you’re laughing at him? Either way, he’s the reason you’re laughing so hard, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the credit for making you so happy. That being said, if the laughter shows signs of spreading to Hina… to Makio… to Suma… #Uzui Tengen is now running away #legend says he’s still running to this day (“What do you mean I’m running? Pfft! I can handle four hysterical spouses! Absolutely! 100%!”)

[actiniumwrites]

hii may i request a hurt/comfort scenario with kazuha and alhaitham where reader feels insecure about their looks >< no need to specify what they feel insecure about specifically but they just don’t think they’re pretty enough for charac !!!

worthy

synopsis: you don’t feel good enough for them. they beg to differ.

characters: kazuha, alhaitham x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, insecurity, crying, some humor, not proofread

notes: thanks for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy this, i really liked how kazuha’s turned out. alhaitham was so difficult to write for this prompt though 🥲

Kazuha:

You don’t know when it started. When, one day, your brain decided to make the shift from feeling the luckiest in the world to feeling utterly trapped. Maybe it was the way people looked at him, or maybe it was the way you never felt deserving of him in the first place, but either way, it didn’t matter.

It started in little things. Most days it just consisted of you wallowing in your reflection anytime you caught a glimpse of it. A passing moment of painful recollection that makes you feel less than deserving of him.

“Are you alright?” your boyfriend blurts out randomly. It isn’t like him, you think. Kazuha has never been the type of person to waste his words so suddenly without thought. His words are usually sugar coated and flow gently in the wind so as to not evoke harsh emotions.

The question makes you visibly pause. Quietly, you clasp your hands together to stop them from the inevitable shaking. Your shoulders seem to droop a little further and he hates the way your bottom lip dips into a depressing tremble.

“I’m sorry,” you exhale defeatedly, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth.

“What for? I don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong,” his gentle white brows furrow. You hate how concerned he looks. Couldn’t he just be angry for once? At least then you wouldn’t feel so insane.

You bury your face in your hands, trying to shield yourself from not only him, but the entire world. It constantly feels like you have prying eyes on you, tearing apart each and every feature on your body. And, just as you predicted earlier, the tears you’ve become long acquainted with begin to make their way to the forefront of your eyes until they’re too heavy to hold.

Kazuha gently pushes your hands aside, instinctively placing them in your lap so he could wipe away your sadness. Still, you hang your head against your aching chest and let the pain seep out through your voice, “Don’t you hate it? The way I look? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Bother me? No. Of course not. I love everything about you. I could gaze into a thousand sunsets and the view still wouldn’t be as alluring as you are. There is no amount of stars in the beaming night sky or the deep red of fresh autumn leaves that could compare to you. Every time my hand aches to write a piece of poetry, it longs to write about you.”

You bashfully look away, trying to hide the smile appearing through your frown as you gaze out into the field next to you. Tenderly, Kazuha tilts your face back toward his as his ruby red eyes stare intensely into yours. You look back and forth between them before laughing quietly through your tears.

He hums proudly, shaking your shoulder a bit before leaning in to place a quick kiss to your lips, “and don’t try to deny it. You know every word I speak is nothing but the truth. I would never lie to you, honestly.”

Your eyes soften as you look at him, understanding now that your boyfriend is right. You’ve read his writing enough to know that whatever Kazuha found to hold truly beautiful was indeed actually beautiful. Because, in a world full of subjectivity, his word is like the law.

Alhaitham:

Alhaitham is practically flawless in all ways. It’s something you’ve realized long before you began dating him — began being friends, even. Aside from his harsh personality, he’s handsome, intelligent, a good leader, and so much more.

It makes you question why he’s even with you. Most of the time, you only joke about it with him and sometimes he even laughs about it. But there are the times where it isn’t just a passing comment or silly thought in the back of your mind, but rather, a growing virus that spreads a dangerous, lingering toxin throughout your body.

“Is something the matter?” Alhaitham nudges your shoulder quietly from beside you. He’s nice enough not to embarrass you in front of the group, shockingly. Despite being his partner, he didn’t often spare you of his “cruelties.”

Your eyes snap to his and out of the faraway place of insecure thoughts you were trapped in for a moment. Silently, you nod and return to listening to the group of people presenting a project to Alhaitham for approval at the Akademiya. His eyes continue to linger on you for a second, not buying any lies you might make up to make it seem like you’re okay. As apathetic as he may be, Alhaitham has indeed found a place in his heart to care about you.

But you can’t help but feel insecure as you watch them. All of them are so attractive and everyone in the room looks so drawn to them, eager to get a word in after. It makes you wonder what Alhaitham even sees in you. A man like himself, he could have anyone in the world.

“I could.”

“What?” your head snaps to him in terror, whispering a little too harshly, “did I say that out loud?”

“No. I can read minds, so I know what you’re thinking,” your boyfriend says blankly. You stare at him in sheer panic before the tiniest of smiles breaks out on his face, “I was joking.”

You frown and shove him ever so slightly away from you, “Yeah, well you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Alhaitham takes one step closer to you than he had before, assuming the position he was in before you pushed him away. Only this time, he gently loops his arm with yours, something he only does when he feels a little more like showing affection. He isn’t the most physically affectionate, but you know what he means by it.

“I’m serious. I know that look on your face,” he whispers from next to you before turning to actually face you, “I could have anyone in the world, so why do you think I chose you?”

“Out of pity? I mean, look around us. I’m not exactly the best looking here,” you mumble, attempting to fight off the growing lump in your throat. So maybe Alhaitham isn’t so perfect, because you sure as hell hate the way he shows comfort.

He sighs irritated, “No, you idiot. Pity is a form of emotion I’ve never felt for anyone, not even you. You’re above the rest of them, so don’t doubt it for a second. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now.”

“You’re so mean, you know? You don’t have to put other people down just to make me feel better,” you say, fighting a smile. He really should’ve taken a class on human emotion back in his scholar days.

Alhaitham turns away from you now, facing the presenters and ignoring your defense against his words, “I only speak truthfully. You are the only person in all of Teyvat that I want. You can choose to believe it or not, but that’s factual information.”

He’s right. Alhaitham hates lying because he sees no point in it. It’s something he’s told you a thousand times, maybe even more.

“Will you say it then?”

You still don’t believe him anyway.

He quirks a brow, “Say what?”

You hold onto his arm a little tighter, afraid he might slip away from you. That bit of doubt still lingering in your mind, “That you think I’m…you know…?”

Alhaitham sighs but gives in regardless. Staring you dead in the eyes with no room for any semblance of a lie, he whispers quietly, “Yes, I think you’re the prettiest person in all of Teyvat.”

[loomiseater]

Pissed (no this does NOT have any pee kinks)

warnings: smut ofc!, fem reader!, mean and toxic Rafe, dub con, Dacryphilia, choking, and, p in v. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I’ve written fics before but it’s only for my notes, so this is the first fic I’ve written that’s being published. Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing. Would you believe this took me an hour to write?

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This definitely isn’t repost worthy 😭 but if you do please give creds. @Loomiseater (Tumblr).

Written: April 21, 2024

Published: April 21, 2024

Summary: Rafe is pissed that you were hanging out with the Pouges. 

“I go on vacation for a week! One fucking week! just to find out you were hanging out with those pouges?!” You could hear Rafe’s voice echoing from downstairs along with the door slamming. His footsteps were starting to get louder as he ran up the stairs angrily. 

You cover your face with the bed sheets to pretend like you’re asleep. The doorknob twists as Rafe comes rushing into the bedroom like a maniac. “Get up! I know you’re not sleep” He announced while yanking the sheets off of you. “I know you heard what I said downstairs!” He shouted. “Why are you so pissed that I wanted to hang out with my friends?” You say softly. When Rafe is angry, it’s best to speak to him in a calm, gentle voice so you don’t piss him off even more.

“Why am I so pissed?” He repeatedly uttered to himself like he heard the most unbelievable thing ever. You got up off the bed to try and calm him down but he pushed you right back down. “This is what I get for trying to fix a broke bitch” He said in a chuckle to himself. Your heart shattered at his words. Rafe has always been mean during arguments or when he’s upset but he’s never spoke this ill of you.

“Are you serious?” You asked as tears began to appear in your eyes. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” He started off with a pointed finger. “I buy this big house for not only me but you too, I give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work, AND I took your ass out the Cut!” He yelled. It’s like his voice gets louder each time. “And this is how you repay me? Hm?” He questioned as his face got closer to yours. 

You tried your best not to cry but the tears started flowing and the sobs got louder. His hand wrapped around your neck and the oxygen for you was running out. “You are MY wife, understand?” Rafe questioned as you nodded your head. You tried to move his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip. 

“I only do this because you’re not safe when hanging around Pouges” he explained as his eyes softened while moving some hair out of your face. Your chest was starting to hurt from all the pressure Rafe was putting on your neck. “P-please, let me go” the words struggled to come out of your mouth and Rafe finally released his hand from your neck. Nothing but choked sobs could come out as Rafe immediately apologized.

His face was filled with nothing but regret…this was the first time you’ve ever seen Rafe genuinely sorry. “I’m so sorry baby!” he expressed while moving his forehead against yours. “It’s okay” you say that but you didn’t really mean it. Deep down you’re terrified of Rafe. You know what he’s capable of. What he can do to you and get away with it.

“I just got into argument with my dad and- I took my anger out all on you” he explained anxiously. “No, really Rafe- like I said, I’m fine” you said while wiping the tears that were still falling.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me!” He said sternly as you jump a bit. He noticed this action and gently grabbed your hands. “Let me make it up to you” Rafe says while placing kisses down your neck. You weren’t really in the mood after what just happened. “Rafe. No” you say, unsure what’s about to happen next.

“Shut up, I’m making it up to you” he said while pushing you down on your back and leaving trails of kisses down your neck. It was like he didn’t care, but it’s always been like this. What Rafe wants, Rafe gets. He started places kisses to your exposed chest, you were in nothing but a bra and shorts. 

You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to do this but your body was telling you something else. The tension was thick between you and Rafe and your body was heating up. Your bra was being unclipped, he then threw it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He gently grabbed one of your breasts and started sucking on your nipple softly while looking you in the eye. You didn’t break eye contact with him, it was turning you on even more. Soft moans flew from your mouth as Rafe kept sucking.

“P-please” You choked out as Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, huh?” He replied with that stupid smirk he always has. He slowly slid off your shorts and felt you. “All that resisting just for me to feel how wet you are” he laughed. He was right, after what he did to you, you were somehow soaked.

Rafe flipped you onto your stomach and left a hard smack to your ass. You hissed at how hard the slap was and it’s like he somehow got even harder. His dick was straining under the sweats he had on as he was pressing against your ass. You could feel kisses being placed on along your back along with a groan Rafe let out. He began take his clothes off and get on his knees behind you as you felt him shove himself in. It caught you off guard, resulting in you letting out a loud moan.

“Shit you’re so tight!” He expressed as he through his head back. He didn’t even wait for you to adjust, he began thrusting inside you like a mad man. The room was filled with nothing but the squelching sound from your pussy and grunts from Rafe’s mouth. “Fuck!” You muttered to yourself. You didn’t want to giveaway how much you were enjoying this but you're pretty sure your wetness spoke for itself. 

He pulled out and slammed back into you as you tightly grabbed the sheets beneath you. The familiar feeling was rising in your stomach. Rafe grabbed your hair and made sure your back was fleshed between his chest as he spoke into your ear. “Pussy so good, make me wanna put a baby in you” he grunted as you came all over his dick from just his words but that didn’t stop him. That was probably the loudest moan you’ve ever let out. 

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shout as tears flow from your eyes from the overstimulation. Rafe looked down at the mess you made on his dick and it made him whine, almost cumming at the sight in front of him. He pulled out and turn you back on your back. With no warning he put your legs on his shoulders and began thrusting. “Rafe!” You moaned as he was sliding in and out of you. Yours nails deeply scratched his back which led him to slower his thrusts. 

“Your so perfect” He said lowly. Nothing could come out from you except for sobs. “It’s too much Rafe!” You whined from all the stimulation. "You look so pretty when cry" And when Rafe saw you crying he let out a groan while cumming inside you. He began kissing you and rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking. It’s like he knew the exact moment you would finish. He pulled out as you squirted, letting his dick get covered in it while he began to thrust himself in his hand. This time, painting your thighs white.

“You did so good, baby” He says while placing a kiss to your forehead. You passed out on the pillow from your recent activity as Rafe got from off the bed and cleaned you with a wet hand towel.