#this is the most vulnerable we’ve ever seen him

[mugsy]

Hey so I couldn’t stop thinking about that one interaction between Dr Retro and Pest,

[alexiroflife]

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

[bodega-catto]

I just know he was thinking about how Suguru managed to somehow rise from the dead to be with him and how the reality and the grief of his passing lifted for just one second in what is the most vulnerable we’ve ever seen Satoru.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 4 ✿:+ Candle Flames

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, -, 5

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: SMUT, MINORS DNI, afab reader, thigh fucking, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of death, mention of arranged marriage, LOTS OF VIOLENCE, blood, implied threat of non-con, 

Word Count: 4738

After you’d spoken to Loras, you’d felt even more alone than before. The talk offered no comfort other than the fact he didn’t want you dead. Sansa was fine company but she was something you felt the strong urge to protect. You put yourself in harm's way constantly just to prevent her from facing any pain.

Specifically one incident when you and her were walking with the Royal Party after watching the Princess sail away to Dorne to be wed off. It was hard to watch the crying girl sail away, especially when you’d been in her very place. 

It was easy to keep your eyes averted to such a sight when The Hound was there to accompany Joffrey. You kept your head low but your eyes stayed on him. You’d still had so many questions about the night you both shared, but now was not the time to ask. 

Later making your way back through the capital city you were sickened by the sights you saw. The Lannisters and Baretheons were supposed to be the wealthiest and most powerful houses. And yet the people of their cities sit in filth and starve. Starving over a war they did not want nor started. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be even the least bit angry when the crowd began to shout vile things. However you found yourself slightly confused once you heard the words ‘bastard’, ‘incest monster’, and ‘brother-fucker’ being sworn towards the royal party.

However your confusion only occupied your mind for a brief moment before someone within the crowd hurled cow manure at the King's face. You felt a brief sense of enjoyment when you saw it hit his face, but it was soon replaced by fear when the King ordered for the execution of the entire crowd,

“Find the man who did that and bring him to me! Kill them, Kill them all!” The King shouted.

Foolish it was, he’d only a few gold cloaks, some kingsguard, and even less knights. Outnumbered by the hundreds of rioting starving people.

Sandor grabbed hold of Joffrey protecting him.

“What are you doing? I want these people executed!” Joffrey whined loudly

“And they want the same for you!” He shouted back

The city watch was quickly overpowered. And the High Septon that you and the royal party was traveling with was pulled into the crowd. You were horrified to witness him being pulled limb from limb, never seen such a thing in your life.

“Move, Move!” Tyrion shouted at you

As the Kingsgaurd were able to eventually carve somewhat of a path towards the entrance of the Red Keep, Joffrey, Cersei, and Tyrion were all rushed inside quickly. 

Before you could make your way inside you noticed your cousin Sansa being derailed and separated from the rest. 

You grabbed ahold of her quickly and pushed her into a Kingsguard who brought her inside. However once she was in, without seeing you they closed the doors. 

Alone.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆

Inside the keep 

“You blind bloody fool!” Tyrion scolded Joffrey’s moronic behavior by hitting and cursing at him. “We’ve had vicious kings, we’ve had idiot kings, but I don’t know if we’ve ever had an idiot king!”

“You’re talking to a King!” Joffrey shouted back like an embarrassed child.

Tyrion raised his hand and slapped him “And now I’ve struck a King, did my hand fall from my wrist?” He shouted back, he turned around and noticed you were not there, “Where is the Arryn girl?” He shouted at the men. 

“Let them have her!” Joffrey retorted 

“If she dies her relatives in the North won't forget it! She’s cared for in the vale and might I remind you she shares blood with the Starks! You need her alive!” He shouted back before frantically calling upon all the king's men to return to save you. 

“Gather your men and find her!” He shouted to Ser Meryn 

“I only take orders from my king, imp.” Meryn responded coldy. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ 

Meanwhile as you attempted to hide in a dark hall, winding up in some kind of stable. You thought for a moment you’d made it there unnoticed and alone. However four men soon walked in behind you as you backed yourself against a wall. Your hand found his way around the handle of a small sharp shovel of some kind. The blade of it was sharp and flat. 

You’d not said a word, you knew if you shouted for them to get back or to fuck off it would be of no use. 

“Look at this little bird's eyes, she’s furious.” One of the men with short hair was mocked. 

“I’ve no gold, no silver, no bread.” You said in a low tone, firm voice. 

“Aye, but you’ve got something.” The taller man said with a crooked grin.

As that man began to take a step towards you, you grasped the handle of the shovel firmly and stabbed it into him. Between his neck and his collarbone. 

As the other men began to shuffle towards you, you pulled the shovel back out and pointed it at them as their friend fell to the ground holding his bleeding wound. 

The man with short hair managed to grab ahold of you whilst his other friend grabbed ahold of your wrist, yanking the shovel out of your hand. The man with short hair placed his hand over your mouth, in response you bit down onto his fingers so hard you were afraid your teeth would shatter. You could taste the blood rush into your mouth. 

In response to your bite, with his other hand he hit you creating a cut over your eyebrow. It threw you off just enough to make you fall back and into the other man's arms. 

The three men began to pin you down shouting vulgar remarks, as they did you kicking at them and scratching at them. Just as the one with short hair began to undo his pants, he was stopped. 

Picked up by the back of his neck like a puppy, practically lifted off of the ground. His guts were cut out of him. As his body fell to the ground you saw him, it wasn’t Sandor, it was The Hound. This is what everyone spoke of. 

The men who held your wrists were next. He cut with precision. His swords swung and took off the man's head. The next he grabbed before he could escape. Slamming his fist into his head, and shoving his blade deep into his stomach. Once he was done he put away his sword. He turned back towards you, and it was him again, Sandor. 

He bent his knee to you and spoke softly “You’re alright now, little bird, you're alright.” He said as he picked you up in both arms and carried you back to safety. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧

As the two of you entered the keep Tyrion was shocked. 

Once Sandor placed you down gently, a few ladies including Sansa rushed to your side pawing at your bloody face. 

“My Lady are you hurt?” Tyrion asked as he tried to assess whether the blood on your mouth and hands were yours or not. 

“Little birds hurt, get her back to her cage. See that cut on her head.” Sandor commanded the women as he walked away, 

as he did Tyrion shouted back to him. “Well done, Clegane.”

To which Sandor responded, 

“I didn’t do it for you.” 

Tyrion, confused by his words, went back to your side and asked again before your ladies could take you away. “My lady, are you hurt? There’s blood- your hands and-“ he said reaching his to touch your chin where the blood from your mouth dropped. 

“I bit one.” You said plainly, exhaustion in your eyes, unwilling to attempt that you’d murdered a man. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

As you laid in your bed that night, you looked at the one candle you had burning beside your bed. Contemplating whether or not to blow it out. Watching the flame kept your mind away from the memories you’d made today. You’d never seen such horrid things before, and much less partook in them. You’d killed a man. And yet, felt no remorse, which made you feel terrible, but maybe that alone counted for something. But soon even that left as your memories shifted to the feeling of being in Sandor's arms. 

Before you could blow it out, 

you began to hear the sounds of metal clanking up the hall. Sandor thought you’d never notice, but he often walked up and down your halls more than he was meant to. Simply to make sure you were alright. 

Every time you heard the metal clanking pass you’d smile to yourself. Only this time it stopped, in front of your door. You sat up slightly on your elbows and peered towards the door. Without knocking, he came inside your chamber. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked in a whisper. 

He didn’t respond, but made his way to that same golden pitcher in the corner of your room. 

“It’s water, remember?” You said. He huffed and put it back down without taking a swig of it. 

“What are you-” You began before he spoke in a low deep husky voice. 

“You could’ve been killed.” He said without looking at you. 

“But I wasn’t.” You said in a sweet whisper.

He began to walk towards your bed. “The fucking cunts would ‘ave taken you bloody every which way, that pretty throat would’ve been slit open. You’d been left for the fucking rats.” 

You took his hand and pulled him onto the bed, his metal scrapping the delicate sheets as he sat on it. 

“You saved me, you’re the bravest man I’ve ever seen.” You said with a strange kind of adornment, one he’d never heard before. 

“Brave?” He dryly scoffed, “Dogs don't need courage to chase rats.” 

“You’re no dog.” You say with that same sweet whisper, it’s as if you’d realized you’d began to fall deeper into whatever emotional trap you two had created here. 

“You killed that man?” He asked in a low whisper. 

“I did.”

“How’d that feel.” 

“Necessary.” 

He stared at you for a moment, not in judgment or disgust but in understanding and some other emotion you couldn’t quite understand just yet. 

“You can’t do that again.” 

“Kill?” 

“No.” His eyebrows furrowed, he couldn’t give less of a shit who you killed or why, “You risked your life for that Stark girl.” 

“You saw that?” 

“She kept yapping about it.” His tone husky 

“I needed her safe first.”

“Too bad.” He said not giving you any room to argue as his thumb ran over the cut on your eyebrow, you winced slightly. “I’d kill those cock sucking rats a million times again if I could. Died too quickly. I should have cut their arms off, their hands, taken their eyes for even looking at you.” 

Your hand came to his jaw, pulling yourself to his lips but he pulled away. with a sigh he came close again. He rested his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t know how to- do this- gently.” He let out a small rumble, “fuck” he hissed “i want to do this gently. I want to be gentle with you.”

He was like a dog given a bone that he so badly wanted to preserve. 

His hand came to your lap, and fisted the fabric of your nightgown. You placed your hands on top of his, you smoothed out his hand to lay flat on your lap. 

“Like this..” you whispered as you guided his hand up, making the fabric ride up. As your thighs became more and more visible he stopped and backed away, 

“No, no this isn’t right.” He grumbled as he walked over towards a large chair in the corner of your room. His face was illuminated by that single candle light. You could see his frustration and desperation in a battle with one another. 

You stood, and walked towards him. He slumped forwards. Resting his forearms against his strong thighs. 

“I can’t be what you wan- what you need.” He corrected. His voice was low and deep. 

You pushed him back by his shoulders, making him lean against the back of the chair. His deep scowl was ever present but it didn’t stop you from running your fingers through his coarse hair. 

“I shouldn’t have come back here. Should’ve stayed the fuck away. Left you be,” 

“I don’t think either of us have much a choice.” You said as you moved yourself between his large thighs. Standing in front of him still running your hands through his hair. “Do you think of that night?” You asked in a whisper. 

“Fuck do you think-“ He barked back before you stopped him, 

“Gentle.” You corrected him 

“Aye.” He conceded painfully, his hands coming to your sides holding you by your waist. His large hands engulfed your ribs. 

“What part of it do you think of?” You whispered sweetly as you began to move on top of him. Your thighs spread across his as you straddled him. His eyes never leave yours. 

He grumbled something low, you couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like “Your eyes.” 

You didn’t want to push him, to make him repeat it. 

Your hand cupped his chin, as you slowly pressed your lips against his. You pecked at his lips for a moment. Then pulling away, looking into his eyes waiting for his response. His eyes filled with shame, he looked away. 

You pressed a kiss into the scarred tissue on his cheek, he flinched at the feelings and his eyes darted back to you, 

“My face, why did you-“ He rasped suddenly 

“Don’t you want me?” 

“Course’ I do but I-“ he cut himself off as his lips hit yours once again, he sucked on your lips as hardly audible groans escaped his throat. 

You pressed your thinly clothed cunt against his hardening bulge. However as soon as he felt it he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up. You whined, and his forehead slumped forward and rested on your chest. “Fuck-“ he said breathlessly, “Can’t do that shit to me.” he panted. 

“Why?” you whined a little too loudly, his grip on you tightened. 

“Told you, stubborn fucking girl.” He finally caught his breathe, “Ye poke at me too much and i’ll fuck you bloody.” His eyes leaving yours in what looked like guilt.

“That’s what I want-“ 

“Don’t matter.” He snipped back quickly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “Once you're wed that imp will stick his cock in ya’ and know you’re not his.” He said, his words harsh, sharp and cold 

“I’m not.” you said, his eyes went a little wide, with what? adornment? 

You slowly lowered your hips onto his once again. Waiting for his push back but were met with none. You let out a small gasp as the bulge separated your lips through the thin fabric that covered your cunt. Another moan left your lips once you felt the hardened mound poke at your entrance. You grinded against it, your cunt began to clench around nothing. 

“At’s it” He groaned into your neck, “Grin’ yerself on my cock.” He grumbled low and deep. 

His face contorted, his muscles tensed, and his groans became more and more primal. His grip on your hips began to sting a little how tightly he held you. Your cheeks began to heat up, and that knot in your stomach tightened. 

He picked you up abruptly, kissing your neck. 

“On your back, now.” He commanded as he placed you onto the fur rug on your bed chambers floor. 

He untied his breeches that clearly had a wet spot on it, unclear if it was your doing or his. He was still fully covered in his armor, as he pulled out his cock. Harder than you’d seen it before. 

You rode up your night gown to your hips and slipped out of the thin underclothes you’d had on. 

He was on his knees before you, you on your back, legs bent and spread, ready and inviting. 

He stared at you, admiring you. 

He placed his heavy aching member between your folds. Rubbing up and down, his tip hitting your clit in the most perfect way. 

He pressed your thighs together, and he let out a long drawn out groan. 

“Fuck!” He hissed as he began to buck himself against your cunt. “So fuckin’ wet” He growled as his bucking continued in a more erratic pace. 

You arched your back and squeezed your thighs together as his fat tip kept hitting your clit

“Don’t- Don’t stop.” You whimpered looking up at his hair falling into his face, his eyes trailing all over you, from your wet thighs to your breasts that bounced with every thrust to your pouting lips all the way back to your eyes. 

“Not fuckin’ stopping.” He said through gritted teeth. “But,” He was stopped by a deep guttural moan, “Don’t look at me like that.” He said panting, “You’ll make me finish too quickly.” He said once more through gritted teeth. 

You took it as a challenge, stubborn as you were. You gave him a smile, and a giggle. 

“Fuckin' stubborn girl.” He said through gritted teeth, then picking you up and turning you around. Your back flesh with his armored chest. 

He pressed your thighs together again, and pushed his cock back in between them, but slightly missing and catching your entrance. Even though he graced it only slightly you moaned so beautifully it almost made him cum right then. That's when you realized how truly lovely it would feel to have him inside of you. 

“I want it inside” You moaned as one of your arms reached over and behind you to wrap around his broad shoulders. While your other hand held his large forearm that draped over your stomach holding you in place. 

“Can’t do that to you.” He said breathlessly, as his other hand removed the straps of your gown. As it fell to your waist, he cupped your breasts, his large hand completely engulfing it. 

You whined again. You didn’t care if you were ruined, you wanted to be. But you couldn’t force him. 

His tongue and teeth danced along your neck, you begged in your mind that he’d bite down or suck on your skin but no, never. Never to burden you with evidence that this ever happened. 

You felt that heat rise and the knot in your belly begin to snap. He could feel you clenching and it produced a vulgar moan from him, 

“That’s alright, you can cum,” He grunted, as he said that you moved your head back and faced him. “MH-” He gave you a sloppy and passionate kiss to mute your moan as you came over his cock. As your high was ridden out, he continued to thrust, he separated the kiss and looked deeply into your now exhausted and satisfied eyes, “Sandor” You whispered, sweetly, “Sandor,” 

He didn’t break your eye contact, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold back his moans as he began to spill out and over your thighs, “(Y/N)” He growled with a final deep and long thrust. 

As you laid there, on the fur rug of your room catching your breath. He laid with you. 

You peered over to him, “I meant what I said.” He peered over to you, raising one eyebrow. “I’m not his.” You said softly. 

“Aye.” He looked away, “But for your sake he’d better think you are.” He said in a low husky voice. 

You raised your hand to his scarred cheek, you began to run your fingers over it when he pulled away. 

“I don’t mind it, really,” You whispered. 

“Every one fucking minds it.” He hissed 

“I don’t.” You said back defiantly 

He huffed, and laid there in silence, he looked over at you, feelings somewhat bad he’d snapped at you. ‘Gentle’ he remembered. 

“When I was a boy, my brother caught me with one of his toys. Thought I stole it. I didn’t, just playing with it. Pressed my head to the fire. All like Baelish told you.” He let out another sigh, “But the worst part was that it was my brother who did it. And my father who protected him. Told everyone my bedding caught fire.” 

You moved closer to him and rested your head on his chest. You tried to listen to his heart beating through the armor, only making out a few muffled thumps. Your eyes heavy, closed soon enough. 

When you woke in the middle of the night you were in your alone bed, your legs were cleaned and you were dressed. 

And 

Your candle was out.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

Every Morning since the riots you were awoken by a handmaiden, sometimes two. They’d dress you in red or gold. Braiding your hair, being sure to put lots of intricate, and no doubt expensive hair pins in it. You were beginning to feel more like the ornate decor that was scattered around kings landing than you felt like an actual woman anymore. 

As you walked the halls your handmaidens were like guards, guards of a prisoner. 

You passed a mirror as you walked and caught a glimpse of yourself, hardly recognizable. “As high as honour” what a joke you thought. Look at you now, looking more and more like a Lannister with each passing day. The red and gold you were forced to wear was a stark contrast from the blues and silvers you’d grown to love. But now you’d really had no home. You didn’t align yourself with the rest of your house anymore either. Lysa and Robin felt like intruders in your home, and they treated you the same. And now, Baelish was a true intruder in it. Being allowed in by your stepmother who’d no right to allow him entrance. Entrance to your home and now your titles. Rightfully yours. 

To gain your titles the Lannister's were your only hope now, so for now you’d be Cersei’s doll and Tyrion's wife. For now, you’d play along. 

But where did that leave Sandor?

You knew that first night he was angry, not at you. He was angry you were the one thing he couldn’t protect. You were his master's thing and couldn’t stop them from toying with you. He was angry you were the only thing he’d ever wanted, and just like everything he couldn’t have. He was angry he couldn’t tell you how much he wanted you. 

And the second night, he was scared, and vulnerable. 

You’d stopped eating since the riot. Normally, that would have gone unnoticed. However your now doting husband has made sure to keep eyes on you at all times. Your handmaidens are unwilling to engage in an argument with you knowing you aren’t the person to pick a fight with, told Tyrion. 

As your ladies ceaselessly brought you trays of food whilst you attempted to lounge on your balcony while you read you simply waved your hand at each tray, now not even bothering with a “No, thank you.” As it didn’t seem to stop them. 

Tyrion stepped onto the balcony, your eyes went towards him but snapped back onto your book as soon as you knew who was joining your handmaidens in disturbing your peace. 

“Lord Tyrion.” You said in greeting, hardly exerting any energy into it. You would have felt badly about discarding your virtue once more for another man if he’d hadn’t made you feel even more like a prisoner. 

“Lady (Y/N)” He said back, sitting across from you, “What are you reading?”

“Something of little consequence,” You said, closing the book and looking over your shoulder at the women who surrounded you “May we be left alone?” You asked, the women didn’t budge but looked to Tyrion who nodded at them, once at his command they left. 

“They don’t listen to me.” You said with harsh eyes. 

“I told them not to.” He said with a huff as he repositioned himself in his seat and putting on a half hearted smile. 

“Did you tell them to dress me like this too?” You said tossing the closed book to the side table next to you. 

“I asked them to help you fit in,” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes filled with some kind of concern. “Joffrey has a tendency to single you out I wanted to see if I could correct that... Aesthetically.. Cersei had some dresses made for you and-”

“If you wish for me to continue to view you favorably, you are failing.” You said stoically, "Was I inadequate before?"

"No- no I-" He stopped himself, “I just want to do all I can to ensure your safety.” He conceded. You did appreciate it, but your need for freedom overweighed that appreciation heavily.

You sighed and looked away, off towards the near distant ocean of blue. You fidgeted with your new golden rings on your fingers. “And, you’re not eating.” He said in a lower tone, 

“And, you’re spying on me?” You said now focusing back on him. 

“Your ladies told me-” 

“Your ladies.” You corrected. 

“I am concerned. Ever since the riots you’ve not eaten a meal.” He huffed, “You need to eat. Name any food you want and I wish to have it made.” 

“I don’t want to eat.” You responded bluntly.  

“I am your husband to be, It is my duty-”

“Your duty? Your duty to imprison me in this place, in this engagement?” Your angry scowl dropped soon as you realized how cutting your words were. To him he was keeping you from further harm, and you knew that. You sighed and looked back to the sea, “It is hard for me to eat, it is hard for me to sleep.”

“Tell me how to help and I will.” He said almost pleading as he leaned forward and held his hands out palms up. "I’d do anything for my lady wife.” The words ‘lady wife’ made you want to vomit, especially after the previous night. 

“I want to go home. I want to claim my titles.” 

“You and I both.” He said with a dry chuckle. “I have wanted to claim my own birthrights long enough to know the feeling.”

“Were they stolen from under your grieving feet by Petyr Baelish?” 

“No-”

“Mine were. And I am powerless to stop it, because I sit here in this castle in these red gowns and Lannister gold. I am presenting myself as indifferent to my own birthright being stolen from me.” You sighed, “I understand what you are trying to do. I do, I may be angry but I do understand. But you need to understand this, in doing what you feel is protecting me, whether it is or is not, you have taken whatever independence I had left.”

“I understand.” He said sitting back into his seat, “And I will do all I can to help you proclaim your titles. But, it would seem Stannis aims to attack this city.” 

“Stannis Baretheon?” You asked in some confusion, no one ever told you anything.

“It seems we are not the only ones who wish to claim titles.” He said in an attempt to jest, “So we're not the men to fight for you yet, however we aim to win this war. Once it is, I will see to it that your titles are restored.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, Tyrion.” Although not in the slightest comforted by the idea of war approaching your doorstep

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆

As you walked down the halls of the castle you were hit with a brick wall, Sandor. 

“you’re not eating.” Sandor said in a hushed but deep and husky tone

“How’d you-” You began before he interrupted you. 

“All those fucking handmaidens tell the royals.” He said in annoyance

“I eat when I'm hungry. haven’t been in a while.” 

“you don’t eat, you’ll starve.” His voice was like he was warning you.

“unlikely. That takes time. Stannis aims to attack the city. I'm sure I'll be dead then.” You responded stoically.

“You won’t die.” He said as if it were fact,

“How can you be certain?” You retorted defiantly 

“Cause I fucking said so.” He said stomping off, his cape flowing behind him.

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens I hope you like this one!!! The next two are going to be a wittle cwazy just a warning... ALSO yall I wrote the smut part during jury duty LMAO... anyways

Also the last few chapters have gotten so much love and I am so very grateful thank you!!! <3

[magnetic-rose]

i see “beelzebub and gabriel only cared about each other and that’s why they ran away” and i think that’s valid but also, beelzebub and gabriel had never been cared FOR in their 6000 year existence and i think that counts for a lot. they were created to do god’s will, and then were put into these leadership roles where they spent the next 6000 years waiting to command a war. they didn’t make friends (which makes sense when everyone around you is a work subordinate), they didn’t have families, they didn’t have people to check up on them, want to hang out with them, spend time with them, gift them things, comfort them etc. they existed solely for the cause.

so of course they ran away together. 6000 years of loneliness and they didn’t even realize that’s what it was until they met each other. “no one has ever given me anything before” gabriel says and it’s the most emotional and vulnerable we’ve ever seen him. beelzebub is hard and mean and cruel to everyone else because that’s been their eternal role, but with gabriel they’re soft, giving, caring.

so is it about selfishness? partly, yeah. gabriel and beelzebub did not really live lives that gave them the opportunity to care for anything but themselves and god’s/satan’s will. so any being who was raised that way and then stagnated for 6000 years in that mindset would naturally be selfish. but their love for each other? they fell for each other because they could be selfless around each other. gabriel made a jukebox play beelzebub’s favorite song without expecting anything in return. beelzebub gave gabriel the fly because they wanted to, not because they needed to. their meetings weren’t beneficial to them. it was literally to be in each other’s company.

i mean, gabriel was willing to fall to be with beelzebub and beelzebub was willing to give up being duke of hell if it meant gabriel was safe and with them. that’s very selfless of both of them.

[sp4ceboo]

SNIPPET FOR MY UPCOMING BAKUGOU FIC!!

genre: merfolk au, fantasy au, merman!bakugou x witch!reader, strangers to lovers, bakugou x f!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: in a world infested with purgers of magic, neither a clandestine witch nor a lone merman can remain safe for long.

tw for snippet: gore, blood, mention of death (fic will be 18+)

UPDATE: READ IT HERE

With a rusty squeal, the door swings wide, and with it comes the same influx of light that always spills greedily through, stinging your eyes and making them ache - the doing of a tiny, wayward star moulded from precious lamp oil. You blink away the tears that well up at your lash line, testament to your accustomation to the dark, and then blink again. Back when you took for granted the warmth of the sun on your face, you lived too far inland to ever see one in the flesh. You were still a witch under the disguise of a healer, though. You’d heard tales, seen artists’ renderings and gorey body parts wrenched off as trophies. None of those could have ever come close to preparing you for the sight before your eyes. A merman. Deep in enemy territory - so deep, in fact, that all those surrounding him, bar you, have murdered more than dozens of his kind each. He is on a galleon rammed bow to stern with killers. And yet, despite it, he has not fallen victim to the purge. Yes, there is a splintered harpoon sunken into his side, yes, he is limp and broken, but even so, shallowly, his chest rises and falls. He breathes. He breathes, and even that is beautiful. The lamp’s light reflects off his scales; he is mainly jet black, but broad swathes of orange run across the length of his powerful tail like they were drawn with the loving stroke of a painter’s brush. In parts, they darken into a ruby red that glitters and winks as the lamp light dances. Or maybe that’s just blood. There’s a lot of it. It soaks into the sheet they strain to carry between them, pools in the dip his weight makes, streaks in smears down his chest and face, coats his hands and is embedded under his sharp nails. You hope that all of it is not his, that he made them regret whatever they must have done to get a merman vulnerable enough and far enough from his pod to capture him. Deep lacerations cut all along his chest and tail, and one of the spines that extend from his sail-like dorsal fin is bent in a way that must mean it is broken. A smattering of scales reach wide across his shoulders and back and down his arms, some of them twisted and bent out of shape. Your eyes fall to the harpoon buried just below his hip, and you feel the bite of your nails digging into your palms. “Heal it,” commands the man holding the corner of the sheet closest to you. “We’ve been ordered to bring back a merfolk to be studied. It must be in peak condition.”

and yeah. so that's what i've been working on recently, it will be over 10k and most likely under 20k and im sO EXCITED!!

there will be a taglist, so if you want to be on it just reply to this post or message me or whatever is easiest :))

praying this reaches the right audience

[yuri-is-online]

Hey, Yuri, do you think Yuu would ever run the risk of being put in danger by having a romantic relationship with any of the more high-profile members of the cast? I mean, we’ve got royalty, nobility, celebrities, and the very wealthy attending this school. I’ve just been rotating my brain about how these relationships would work out and Yuu is a pretty vulnerable target without NRC’s security. - 🦐

Hmmmmmm. I have a bunch of thoughts about this actually... I tried ranking them from least to most dangerous if that makes sense? But don't read too deeply into the bullet point placements they were mostly just a stream of consciousness thing.

Not that Risky (surprisingly)

Leona- we don't really have details about his brother's marriage, but I don't think his family has been shown to be overly keen on forming alliances with outside countries, the Savannah seems more concerned with itself. I don't think his family would be too fussed with his partner being a magicless person from outerspace, if anything this might be seen as a plus to the councilors that are always mocking Leona behind his back as his partner's lack of royal blood makes him even less fit for the throne. Not to mention Leona himself is more than enough to protect Yuu, he's the only royal at the school without a proper retainer (which you could argue is because no one at home likes him) but I doubt his family would let him do that if he was genuinely in danger.

Rook- he's Rook. His family does sound rather sweet from the very very very little we know about him (he also seems like he was kind of sheltered as a kid, something I should chew on sometime) so I doubt they would allow anything too bad to happen to Yuu.

Vil- his main issue is his contract, the Japanese Idol industry is cut throat and often sees things like bans on relationships as part of the contract. Vil doesn't want to risk his career or reputation, he mentions that he himself is a brand and I can't see him wanting to put that pressure on Yuu if they're not up for it. But... there are also celebrities who have really private personal lives and I sort of get the sense Vil is like that? And I don't think he would be too bothered if Yuu didn't want to be super public, it would certainly make it easier to keep you safe.

Idia- S.T.Y.X. might be a gloomy place but no one knows where it is

Medium Danger (danger is real but can be managed)

Jade and Floyd- we don't actually know what their family does, just that it's probably sketchy and that Mama Leech calls them every day, taught them self defense, and just generally seems to worry about them a lot. The danger is very real under the sea, but I also sort of get the sense that messing with the Leech family is skipping the fuck around and going straight to find out.

Azul- his business is going to make him enemies sooner or later, but at least during school Yuu should be more or less safe. Azul's able to keep on top of the students who mean Yuu harm, and Yuu is able to politely ignore their boyfriend's business (or maybe they have a knack for helping?) When you get older I can see Azul's need for a security team expanding, but he'll have money to get the best.

Riddle- ok so. I don't think his mom would try to kill you. But god she would be such a toxic person to manage. I'm actually working on a (very old) request atm that involves discussing what Riddle's mom might do if she finds Riddle with a partner instead of his studies (which I assume she's paying for) especially during his internship. She'd go full scorched earth and get very confused when Yuu doesn't back off like Trey did.

Huston We Have a Problem

Kalim- the amount of assassination attempts my poor boy has already canonically endured... I imagine there are probably going to be more in his future. I can see Yuu needing their own retainer (which could be a fun concept for an oc) to protect them and test their food. When Grim becomes a great mage I'm sure he could help with that actually, wouldn't that be cute?!

MALLEUS- acceptance of humans is virtually non existence in Briar Valley AND his mother hated humans so much she "blessed" her child to only be loved by fae. We don't actually know how the senate works but I imagine they would lose their ever loving shit if Malleus brought home a human as a friend and now he wants to make them his spouse? No. They say no. Time to show them what an absolute monarchy means I guess.

Assuming Yuu isn't in a relationship with Malleus I could see their friendship actually sort of being a boon to them, especially if Yuu was with Kalim or Azul. Pissing of the merchants is one thing, but the King of the Abyss? No thank you, they'll just take their losses and go.

[cameronspecial]

Bad Friend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Sex and Making A Bet On A Date On Getting A Date With A Girl.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.8K

Summary: After Rafe makes a bet with Topper, it leaves him in need of Y/N's help. Y/N doesn't believe in love, but through getting to know Rafe while helping him, she may start to rethink her thoughts about the feeling.

Masterlist

“I dare you to get Y/N to date you,” Topper challenges, taking a sip from his drink. Rafe’s eyes stare at the pair of girls stumbling over each other, laughing as they trip on the sand. They are obviously very drunk. Rafe doesn’t think he has ever seen her smile. The only person who could break Y/N’s enigmatic and emotionless composure is the girl currently being held up by her, Amanda. Rafe isn’t one to back down from a dare, but he also doesn’t chase after a lost cause. Love isn’t something that Y/N has ever sought after. It isn’t a secret to anyone on the island. She’s the product of an affair; her Kook father cheated on his wife with her Mainlander mother. She grew up listening to her mother’s stories about how charismatic boys always leave behind brokenhearted girls. About how even though Willard Graham genuinely did love Cordelia Y/L/N, the money his wife, who was back in the Outer Banks, would bring was more important than the little girl he bore with Cordelia. This didn’t stop Cordelia from moving to the Outer Banks and Willard didn’t object, he wanted to be in his daughter’s life. But that truth imprinted itself on Y/N. She saw how the possibility of love tore her mother apart and she vowed to never let herself go through the same thing. In fact, she abandoned all notions of emotions in general. Feelings made her vulnerable and vulnerability got her hurt. 

Rafe doesn’t need to get tangled up in that mess. He pulls away from the sight of the best friends and shakes his head at Topper. “Nah, I don’t feel like dealing with her. She may be all bark and no bite, but I don’t want to deal with that yapping dog,” he refutes. Kelce chuckles, “Come on, you scared you won't be able to win her over. Or better yet, maybe you’re scared of her.” The rest of the senior boys laugh, teasing Rafe about being frightened by the junior. “Dude, I could get any girl I want. But if I’m going to be going after someone, I might as well go for someone that’s actually hot. Y/N looks like she fucks about as good as a sack of potatoes,” Rafe disagrees. 

Topper gives into Rafe’s demands for a different target, “Fine. How about Amanda? We’ve all heard the rumours about her in bed, but she will be hard to get with guard dog Y/N by her side. So I bet you can’t get Amanda to go on a date with you by the end of the summer.” He spots the girls again from across the fire. “What do I get if I win?” Rafe questions, swirling the solo cup in his hand. What’s the point of a bet if Rafe doesn’t gain anything from it? “Bragging rights,” Topper continues when he sees Rafe’s raised eyebrows. “And… we’ll each give you two thousand dollars.” This piques Rafe’s interest. He honestly would’ve done it for the bragging rights, ten thousand is a raindrop compared to the ocean of his family wealth, but it’s always fun to get a little extra money. Before Rafe can agree, Kelce speaks up with his own question. “Hold on, what do we get if you lose?” Rafe’s hand reaches for his chin, rubbing it as he thinks about what he can offer. Money is a plausible option, yet it’s nothing to the rich Kooks. He feels the buzz of his phone with a notification from Barry saying that his next stock is ready. A lightbulb shines in his mind. “I’ll give you all free blow for a month,” he suggests, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Sure, they can afford their own drugs, yet the principle of getting stuff for free gets to anyone. His friends grin at him. “Deal.” 

———

Amanda Dalton. One of the sweetest Kooks around and also the most innocent. She’s the epitome of the dumb blonde stereotype, no matter how much Y/N tries to help her friend out. “Y/N, what state is Canada in? I can’t find this on the map?” Amanda asks, searching through the American map. Y/N sighs and searches up a map of North America, “Babe, Canada is its own country. See. It’s right on top of America. So it’s not a state.” Amanda concentrates on her friend’s phone. “Oh, that makes sense,” she whispers, going back to typing on her phone. Y/N puts her phone away and continues to paint her nails, “Why do you want to know?” “Well, I wanted to buy tickets for the Era’s tour in To…ron…to. It says it’s in Canada,” Amanda explains.

“Toronto? That is in Canada.”

“How about Vancouver? It says British Columbia. Is that in England? I’ve always wanted to go to England.”

“No, Babe. Vancouver is in Canada. British Columbia is the province. It’s like a State. Why are you looking at other concerts anyway? Didn’t your dad already get us the tickets for the concert and plane?”

Amanda nods, “He did. I wanted to go to another one. I guess I won’t be though. Thank you for coming by the way. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of concerts.” Y/N looks up at her friend with a smile. “No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that. Plus, someone has to keep you safe.” Y/N takes Amanda’s hand, starting to paint the girl’s nails without asking. Much to the girls’ surprise, the sliding door opens and Rafe appears before their eyes. “Hello, ladies. How are we today?” he questions with a smile. He settles in the chair between the girls and leans forward on the table. “What are you doing here?” The friends postulate at the same time. Amanda with curiosity. Y/N with annoyance. He flashes his pearly teeth, “Mr. Dalton asked me to come over. I’m helping my dad with the company and he is making a deal with Mr. Dalton, so I offered to come over to go over the contract one more time.” 

“How sweet!” Amanda gushes. Y/N has the opposite idea, “So why are you with us right now?” Rafe ignores the latter and turns to the former. “Not as sweet as your cupcakes. Your little brother let me try one and it was delicious,” he compliments. Y/N knits her eyebrows together. She doesn’t understand why Rafe is being so nice. He’s only polite to people he wants something out of. Amanda’s cheeks turn red and she turns her head to hide it, “Thank you. It’s a new recipe.” “Well, it was really good. If you like cupcakes, I know this great bakery on Maine Street. Maybe… maybe I can take you some time,” he proposes with a charming grin. Amanda’s eyes start to twinkle, “I would love that. Y/N and I love cupcakes. Her favourite is salted caramel. Do they have them?” Rafe is about to correct the assumption that Y/N is invited when the door opens again. 

“Rafe, thank you for waiting and coming over. I’m ready to go over the contract now,” Mr. Dalton announces, giving Rafe room to walk back into the house. Rafe bids goodbye to the girls and follows Mr. Dalton inside. 

———

Y/N closes the front door behind her, making sure to yell out to the family to lock the door after her. The gravel gives way to the pressure of her feet and she puts her headphones on as she picks up her bike from the ground. Her father tried to buy her a car, but she wouldn’t take it. The only thing she allows Mr. Graham to do for her is to pay her tuition at Kildare Academy, but she refuses his help for anything else. She even started working at The Wreck so that she could grow independent from him in university. Unlike most people in the Outer Banks, Y/N doesn’t really belong to either of the tribes. Her father is a wealthy judge, who is the son of an affluent lawyer and doctor. Her mother makes enough as a software developer for them to sit comfortably, nowhere near Kook level, yet also more than the Pogues. Sometimes it’s hard for Y/N to be in the middle of both worlds. Both accept her into their groups, except for the times when she does something that goes against their nature and then it’s like she belongs to neither. Like when she went to Midsummer as a guest, the Pogues were quick to mock her for being a part of the tradition. Or when she sided with the Pogues during a fight between the two groups and suddenly, the Kooks didn’t know who she was. 

Before she hops on the bike, the front door opening and closing causes her to turn around. She thought maybe she had forgotten something and Amanda was coming to bring it to her. Instead, she finds Rafe watching her. Rafe isn’t expecting to see Y/N at the end of the driveway. He didn’t see her when he said goodbye to Amanda, so he assumed she had left a while ago. As they stare at each other, an idea pops into Rafe’s mind. It’s a long shot, except if he can get her to do it, then it would help him along with the bet. Even though, Amanda isn’t a virgin, everyone knows she can be a little ditsy in terms of actual dating. As made evident in his earlier conversation with her, she isn’t the greatest at detecting that someone is flirting with her. He knows that the way other people have had sex with her is because she approached them and Rafe didn’t want to play the game like that. It would be too easy. Plus, Y/N backs off the guys if Amanda is the one to initiate it. He is here to play the game, so he will. 

“Do you want a ride?” he calls out, opening the passenger’s side door for her. Y/N considers it for a second. It would take her around thirty minutes to bike home and only ten minutes by drive. All it takes is for her to notice the setting sun for her to come closer to him. She doesn’t say anything as she opens the back of the truck bed. She struggles a little with putting her bike in the back, so Rafe helps her out. His hand accidentally grazes her arm and she jerks it away from him as soon as she feels his touch. She storms off into the car. Rafe sighs and closes up the back. This is going to be harder than he thought. 

The truck sits in silence before she breaks it. “What are you up to with Amanda?” she interrogates, not looking away from out the window. Rafe isn’t sure how to word his proposition, “Nothing, I was just being nice.” “That’s a lie. Everyone knows that isn’t in your vocabulary,” she retorts. He shrugs and looks back at the road, “Maybe it is now. Amanda is a darling. She deserves to be treated in a pleasant way.” 

“You don’t treat your own sister like that. What makes Amanda so special?”

“I don’t know maybe I like her…” 

He tries to make the words as genuine as he can, looking over to Y/N to further the believability. “Ha, I’m not going to let you go anywhere near her,” she laughs. This is his opportunity, “You might change your mind once you hear what I have to offer.” The joy she feels stops abruptly. She shouldn’t be intrigued, yet she is. He takes her silence as a motion to keep going, “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars if you help me get a date with Amanda.” Her first instinct is to reject him, “You are ridiculous if you think I would do that to my best friend.”

“Why not? You aren’t doing anything bad. I don’t want to hurt her. Just take her on a date. No offence to her, but we both know that talking to her can make you feel like a catapult. Everything goes over her head.”

“It’s practically selling my friend to you for 10K. I’m not doing it.”

“You aren’t selling her to me, just helping me out. Like a consultant. You could use the money for university. I bet it would go a long way.” 

He got her. He can see the moment her frown turns to interest and he has to stop himself from celebrating. Her mind hates her right now. How could her mood instantly change at such a selfish thought? She thought that she was more loyal and had better values than that. However, the money would help her out a lot with tuition and it’s not like Amanda has to know. “Fine, I’ll help you.” This is a bad idea. 

———

Closer to closing The Wreck is practically a desert town. Y/N sits at the counter, reading over her textbook. “I’d like a table for two, please,” a voice interrupts her studying. She looks up to see that Rafe is alone. She chuckles, “And who is going to be joining you? Your ghost girlfriend.” “Haha. I forgot how funny you are. No, you are,” he reacts, waiting for her to give him a table. She gets up to get him a menu, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.” “There is no one here, Y/N. If someone does come, then I wouldn’t get angry at you for getting up to help them,” he points out, holding his hand out to the booth he decided to sit at since she isn’t moving. She huffs in defeat and joins him at the table. “Did you want to order anything? I don’t think Mike and Anna would like it if I just let you hang out here,” she informs before sitting down. Rafe glances over the menu, “Ugh, a cheeseburger, fries and a coke for me, please. And then get whatever you want. On me.” Y/N’s eyebrows rise at the mention of a please and that he’ll pay for her food. She isn’t going to argue though because who doesn’t like free food? 

Rafe plays with his rings while he waits for her to return. “Alright, I put the order in,” she tells him, sliding into the booth across from him. He nods and looks down, “Thanks.” She waits for him to talk and gets annoyed when he doesn’t. “Why did you come here, Rafe?” she asks with irk dripping from her voice. He gathers his thoughts, “You said you’d help me get through to Amanda. So what can you tell me?” “Right. Then I have two things I want to bring up. One. I’m going to quiz you to make sure you actually care for her. Two. If you pass, we are going over the terms of this deal,” she lists with two fingers up. Nerves cause goosebumps to run up and down his arms. The prospect of being quizzed on Amanda makes him worry that he won’t be able to keep up this charade. He extends his hand out, motioning for her to continue. “I’ll start easy. When is her birthday?” she tests. 

“May 25th.” 

“Correct. What’s her favourite TV show?” 

“She says The Good Place because it’s your favourite, but it’s really The Bachelorette.” 

“Okay. Last year, she had an allergic reaction to something. What was it?”

“She got stung by a bee.”

“Right. Final question, what does she do when she gets nervous.” Rafe pauses for a second. He has no idea what the answer is. The only reason why he knows all the other stuff is because Amanda is a loud talker, but something that comes from an observance of her wouldn’t register in his brain. As he thinks, his eyes are drawn to the way Y/N’s fingers dance along the table. He can tell they are moving in a pattern but he can’t keep track of it. “Are you going to answer the question?” she impatiently queries. He focuses on her face, “No, I honestly don’t know. I really do like her. I promise.” “Your promises don’t mean anything to me, but you still pass. I was going to help you anyway, knowing those things don’t mean anything. I just wanted to make you suffer a little,” she teases with a soft smile that Rafe enjoys. He chuckles, “You got me. So, to go over the deal. As long as she goes on a date with me by the end of the summer, you get your money. Does that work for you?” “It works perfectly. I’m going to add that I am not going to let you do anything that hurts her and if you do it behind my back, I’m going to chop your dick off and sell it on the black market to be eaten by the creepiest bidder,” she threatens, her finger pointed at him. He extends his hand out to her, “Deal.” 

———

Y/N readjusts the magazines on the ottoman one more time. She doesn’t know why she told Rafe to come over to her house, but there is more of a chance that they get caught by her going over to his house than by him coming over to hers. There are always more eyeballs on Tannyhill. She is snapped out of her worry by the ding-dong that sounds throughout the house. Her sock-covered feet glide against the hardwood floors as she hurries to answer the door. “Hi,” she greets a little out of breath from her cartoon-like slip. “Come in.” She steps out of the way so Rafe can make his way inside. He enters the house and takes off his shoes once he notices the pile by the door. His eyes examine the open plan of the house. Her house isn’t anything like one would find on the Cut, yet it also isn’t as big as the ones in the Figure Eight. It was brand new when Cordelia bought it and since then, it has undergone small renovations as necessary. 

“I get that it isn’t as big as your house. You don’t need to make googly eyes like that though,” she comments, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink. He shakes his head, “No, I wasn’t thinking that. Your house looks cozy. I like it.” “Well, I don’t care for your approval. Do you want something to drink?” she offers, holding up a can of coke. Rafe doesn’t know if the choice of drink is because she is getting one for herself or if she remembers his order from The Wreck. His head flicks up to signal he does want one. He settles on the couch and listens to the sound of the can being cracked open. She pours the drink into a glass with ice, walking over to join him on the couch. When she places her water next to his bubbly pop, he concludes that she remembered his order and this causes his stomach to flip. He could tell people a hundred times what his favourite food is and he would bet all his money they wouldn’t hold the information in their brain. She takes a sip from her drink, “You have to be more direct when it comes to Amanda, but also not too obvious with what you want or you’ll scare her off.” “If I have to be clear and not clear at the same time, where does that leave me?” he questions with a chuckle. She holds her fingers up so they are practically touching, “In this sweet spot that gets you a date with her.” He sits against the back of the couch. “Okay, so how do I get in that sweet spot?” he inquires, drinking from his cup. “Movies. Recreate a famous movie scene and that’s when it will click in for her.”

“What kind of movies? Like romcoms?” he gets her to clarify. She nods and squats in front of the entertainment centre under the television. She pulls out different DVDs, placing them in front of him. “Yep, we are going to watch all of her favourite rom-com movies, so take notes,” she tells him. He looks at the spread in front of him, “You actually have DVDs.” “Yeah, these cheer Amanda up when she is down and you never know when streaming services will take them down,” she says nonchalantly. He gives her a soft gaze, “You must like the movies too if you bought them though.” “Not really. They’re okay. I prefer mystery movies. Knives Out, A Simple Favor, The Menu. You know, stuff like that,” she lists while popping in the first movie. Rafe thinks it’s sweet that Y/N went out of the way to buy these comfort things for her best friend. 

During the ads, Y/N goes to the kitchen to get some snacks for them. The variety she has is impressive, yet he doesn’t find the quintessential movie night snack. “No popcorn? Not that I’m complaining.” She brings the box of donuts in her lap, “Nah, who needs to fill up on that shit when I’ve got Krispy Kreme donuts.” He watches as she picks up a jelly-filled donut and bites into it. She lets out a small moan, pulling the treat away from her mouth to leave behind the red jam at the corner of her lips. The sound she made went straight to his brain, the one downstairs. His hand goes up to his own mouth to hint at the mess on her face. She wipes at the wrong side, so he goes to wipe the correct corner. She jerks away from him, “It’s okay I got it.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping his gaze with shame. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. I just don’t like being touched. Do you want a donut?” He picks out a regular glazed donut and eats it. “You are right, these are better than popcorn. I have to ask though, why donuts over popcorn?” 

“My mom never liked popcorn. Said they made the house smell when you popped it and the kernels were a choking hazard. Plus, since Krispy Kreme isn’t on the island, she’d make it a whole event when we went to the main island to get them for movie night.” 

“That sounds fun. Are the jelly donuts your favourite?” 

“Yep, I like strawberries and who doesn’t like powdered sugar.”

“True, both very valid reasons to like it. Can I have one?” 

She pulls the box away from him, “That’s a funny joke. These ones are mine.” “You’re territorial, noted,” he thinks out loud. The movie starts and a hush falls on both of them. After watching a few movies, they take a break to go to the bathroom. “Do you want to watch The Good Place?” he proposes as she walks back into the room. She tilts her head at him, “Sure. I meant to ask. How do you know it’s my favourite show?” He changes the TV to the Firestick and pulls up the show on Netflix. His shoulder rises, “You talked about it in philosophy class. It was what you made your presentation on and you sounded so passionate about it that it was clear how much you liked the show.” “Huh, I didn’t think you would notice that,” she thinks out loud. He gives her a pointed look, “I’m not as unobservant as people think that I am, you know. I do actually listen when other people speak.” She smirks at him. “Really? I wasn’t aware your ears had the ability to listen.”

———

The sight before her is one that she never dreamed of seeing. She honestly isn’t sure if her rom-com plan is going to work, but getting Rafe to recreate the movie and the money is worth the lie she told him. It wasn’t hard to get most of their class to come to the football field during the summer. Everyone will do what Rafe would say and people are too scared of Y/N to argue. When the speaker turns on with a loud screech, multiple people duck with their hands covering their ears. The beginning melodies of “Can’t Take My Eyes off Of You” by Frankie Valli start to play and out comes Rafe from behind the bleachers. He sings the lyrics as he moves from side to side of the rows, pointing to Amanda to make it clear who he is talking to. Y/N glances at her friend to see the other girl’s eyebrows connected. She nudges her friend with her elbow, “I think he is serenading you.” “Like in 10 Things I Hate About You?” Amanda’s eyes brighten. Y/N’s head moves up and down, “I think so.” Amanda’s hands come together near her heart and a smile paints on her face. 

“This is so sweet. Do you think he wants to fuck?” 

“Babe, for him to go through all of this, I think he wants to do a lot more than have sex.” 

The song finishes and Rafe hops over bench after bench to run in front of Amanda. “Please go on a date with me, Beautiful,” Rafe pleads. Y/N should feel happy that the plan is working. The look on her best friend’s face says it all, yet it doesn’t help the ugly roar she wants to let out at the nickname he used. She is pulled out of her thoughts by Amanda screaming yes. Amanda flings herself into his arms and kisses his face. The student body claps to congratulate the pair. With the endgame achieved, Y/N feels she is overstepping, so she starts heading back to her bike. 

A voice from behind her halts her departure. “Hey, Y/N, wait. Where are you going?” She spins around to see Rafe chasing after her. “I’m heading home. You got your date to go on and I’ll wait until you go on it to collect what you owe me,” she says, getting on her bike. Right as she is about to petal off, Rafe runs in front of her and grabs her handlebars so she can’t go further. His head moves from side to side, “We are going out tomorrow. She has dinner planned with her family tonight, so I thought that maybe as a thank you, we can go to the Mainland and get some doughnuts.” “From Krispy Kreme?” she mutters, playing with the knob of her bike bell. He smiles, “Where else? Come on, we can make an afternoon out of it. I think it would be fun.” “And why would you want to spend more time with me? I’m not the one that you like,” she responds. His fingers meet her hands on the bar. When she doesn’t flinch, Rafe thinks she lied about not liking being touched or maybe her feelings about him have changed. “Because I’m grateful that you are helping me and I want to thank you.”

“You will thank me with the ten thousand dollars that you give me.”

Rafe doesn’t know why he insists on taking Y/N out; he really wants to spend the afternoon with Y/N. 

“Are you really turning down a free doughnut? I saw that box, you don’t have any more strawberry jelly doughnuts to fill your tummy, Petite Louve.” 

Three years of French means that Y/N can easily translate the nickname he calls her. Little Wolf. She wants to ask why he called her that, except her rumbling stomach gets her to agree with his statement instead, “Fine, let’s go.” Rafe lets out a victorious whoop and he helps her off her bike. They walk beside each other to his car. Y/N would bump her hip against his every once in a while, which would cause him to knock into the bike that he was holding for her. He could only chuckle every time she did so. 

———

“How can you drink that? It’s basically all sugar?”

“Says the person who is about to eat a bunch of donuts. I don’t think you can judge me though because you are drinking pure dark roast. No wonder you are so bitter.”

Y/N giggles, “I will have you know that my bitterness is due to the fact that most people suck.” “Hm, that makes more sense. Here, try some. Maybe it will make you a little sweeter,” he offers. He tips the straw in her direction. The light brown slushy-like drink is topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Her lips wrap around the tube and suck. Rafe tries to stop the intruding thought of her lips being around something else. He doesn’t know why the image came into his mind; he shouldn’t think of her like that. Her face scrunches as soon as the sweet liquid hits her tongue. “Blegh, I was right. This is too sweet,” she criticizes. She hands him back his drink and their hands brush against each other. He laughs at her reaction and she loves the way it sounds. He takes a sip from his drink, “Why am I not surprised that it’s too sweet for you, Petite Louve?” She stops swirling the coffee cup in her hand and looks up at him. “Why did you start calling me that?” she queries. He leans back in his chair, “Call you what?” “Petite Louve,” she utters without hesitation. His elbows meet the table as he places his head on his hands, “It means little wolf.” He knows what she wants to know, except he is enjoying this game. She rolls her eyes and her arms cross one on top of the other. “I was in your French class last year, Rafe. I know what it means,” she scolds, giving him a dead stare. Rafe’s hands go up in defence, “Alright, alright. It’s because wolves are protective of their pack and they don’t often let outsiders in. That’s how you are with your pack.” 

“I see. Wolves are pretty cool so I accept that nickname,” she concludes. He lets out a satisfied breath, “They are. So are you going to eat your doughnut or are we going to stare at it all afternoon?” Her eyes dart to the white puff piece in front of her. She picks it out and holds it up to him. He gives her a raised eyebrow. “Because you let me try your drink,” she clarifies, waving it in his face. He takes a bite and similar to what happened to her a few days ago, a small red blob forms at the corner of his lips. Her arm instinctively reaches for his face and wipes the smear off his face. She uses the napkin to clean off her thumb. “Thanks,” he shows his gratitude by offering the doughnut he picked out for himself. 

She takes a bite out of it and they eat in silence for a few minutes. “I totally embarrassed myself this afternoon, didn’t I?” he verifies between bites of his caramel Kreme crunch. A grin forms on her face as she recalls the events, “I thought it was hilarious. Unfortunately, from what I saw on Insta, every girl found it romantic and every guy wished they thought of it to get into Amanda’s pants.” Rafe can see the gears turning behind her eyes. “You are planning their downfall, aren’t you?” Her grin turns wicked, “Most definitely. They are going to regret the shit they said.” “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what you have planned for those guys,” he informs. They had about two more doughnuts each before packing up the rest for home. He opens the door for her and hovers his hand on her lower back as he guides her to his car, making sure not to make any contact with her. She can feel the heat emanating from his hand and wishes that she can feel the weight of it. He pulls the passenger’s side door open for her, closing it once she is safely in the truck. As he drives to the ferry, his eyes dart toward her and drink in her appearance. Her shoes are resting firmly on the floor mat while her sock-clad feet are curled under her leg. She leans back against the car seat with her hands on her knee. The slight dip at the corner of her lips does not stop her from mouthing along to the lyrics of the song. 

Her clothes aren’t name-brand like the other Kook girls. It looks like something she could get at any generic store. However, one thing stands out to Rafe as he watches her stick her hand out the window to glide with the wind. A gold bracelet with three small diamonds slid down her right arm. Only one person could’ve gotten her that Tiffany & Co. bracelet. “Why won’t you let your dad pay for your university?” The hand out the window drops onto her lap. She fiddles with her bracelet. “He didn’t want to be in my life. The only reason why he suddenly cared about my existence is because my mother moved here, so I could be closer to him. He solely cared for me when it fits into his life,” she begins. “If he pays for my university tuition, then it’s going to be like I owe him something. And the last thing I want is to owe that man something.” 

Rafe nods as she says, “If you don’t want to owe him anything, then why are you going to Kildare Academy? It’s not like you can’t go to Kildare Country.” “It’s an agreement I made with my mom. She agreed that I could pay for university if he pays for private school,” she shrugs. He finds it refreshing that, even though she could choose to be taken care of, she wants to provide for herself and work hard to be able to do so. The car slows once her house comes into view. It comes to a stop and Rafe reaches behind the seats for the box of doughnuts in the back. His hand accidentally brushes her shoulder; she doesn’t flinch away. Instead, she wishes his warmth would remain against her skin. He turns toward her and rests it on her lap. “Thanks… for everything. It was really nice of you,” her voice is barely above the sound of a mouse. He flashes her a smile, “No problem. And should I be concerned that you are being kind to me? Are you playing nice so I don’t suspect you are going to kill me?” “Haha, I’ll have you know that I can be delightful sometimes,” she retorts. Her eyes wander down his face to his pink lips. They appear to be softer than she expected. He doesn’t seem like the type to use lip balm. He notices her line of sight and instinctively, he examines the curve of her lips. 

His head leans forward and she follows his lead. A knock at the window causes them to jump away from each other. “Hey, Baby! Where have you been?” Cordelia yells through the window. “Is that Rafe Cameron beside you?” The mother squints at the boy sitting beside her daughter. “Yes, Mom, it’s Rafe. We went to the Mainland for doughnuts. We brought you back the glazed chocolate cake ones you like,” Y/N reports to her mother whilst rolling down the windows. Rafe’s head peeks out from behind Y/N’s head, “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” They wave at each other and Cordelia smiles at the two of them. “Please, call me Cordelia. You bought me dessert. Do you want to come inside for dinner? We are probably going to order from The Wreck,” she suggests. Rafe shakes his head with tight lips, “I would love to if I didn’t have to go to dinner with my family tonight.” “Ahh, that’s too bad. You definitely have to come over another time,” she encourages. He assents to the statement, “It would be my pleasure.” Y/N gets out of the car, gathers her bike from the back and the women bid Rafe au dieu as he drives back home. 

“You and Rafe would make a pretty cute couple.” Y/N’s eyes orbit themselves, “We aren’t a couple, Mom.” “Sureee. I saw you guys were about to kiss. It was funny seeing how fast you guys jumped away from each other,” the mother taunts her daughter. Y/N groans, “Forget about delivery, I’ll pick up our food myself.” She hops on her bike and starts making her way to the restaurant. “You can’t escape my questioning forever, Baby,” Cordelia screams to the girl fading into the distance. 

———

He didn’t want to lie with Y/N close by; he couldn’t exactly reveal to her that he was going to meet up with his friends to collect his winnings from a bet. It would ruin everything if she found out about the bet. “I think it’s cheating that you got Y/N to help you out,” Topper objects, setting his stack of money on the table. He shrugs, “We didn’t mention anything about getting outside help. We merely talked about me getting a date with Amanda, which I am going on tomorrow.” Rafe counts the money, listening to his friend complain to the others.

———

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother said. When she got home, her mother wouldn’t believe that Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend until she told the older woman he was going on a date with Amanda. Despite that, her mind is plagued with the idea of being his girlfriend. She’s never felt this way before about someone. She shouldn’t feel this way about him. Love isn’t something that is on her checklist for things she wants to achieve in life. “Get out of my brain you insufferable man,” she grumbles to herself. She twists to rest on her other side, watching the light shine on her bedroom wall as a car drives by. Why can she still feel the warmth of his hand at the bottom of her back? Why didn’t she feel uncomfortable by his touch on her shoulder? She places her hand over the shoulder he touched, trying to simulate his touch. It doesn’t feel the same. Her hand drops to her elbow and she goes through the day. The envy she felt at Rafe calling Amanda beautiful. The sweet gesture of going out of his way to take her somewhere that means so much to her. The way he respected her boundaries about being touched when she didn’t initiate it. These all lead her to one conclusion she can’t make sense of. She must be falling in love with Rafe Cameron. And there is one thing she needs to do before his date tomorrow that is going to make her a bad friend. 

———

Rafe jogs over to the front door and swings it open. “Hey, I got your money. I was going to give it to you tomorrow… I can get it for you now if you want,” he propositions, stepping back to head upstairs. Her hand darts out to grab his wrist. At the contact, she retracts her arm back to her side with a mumbled sorry. “It’s okay, come in. If you aren’t here for the cash, what did you want to talk about?” he queries. She avoids the windows to his soul and plays with the bottom of her sweater’s sleeve. “Petite Louve, are you okay?” he worries, his hands ghosting the side of her arms. Her normal assurance seems to have evaporated completely from her body. She finally has the confidence to look at him, “Do you really like Amanda?” He pauses, unsure of what to say. “O-of course I do. Why else would I ask for your help with asking her out if I didn’t?”

“Maybe… maybe at the time you thought you liked her.” 

“I did and I still do.”

“Do you really though? Because you don’t have any chemistry with her. Not like you do with... With me.”

His emotions flood him like an ocean overtaking a desert. How can he deny something so true? Except he has too. Not simply because of his bet on Amanda, but because what do two people like them know about romantic devotion? One who doesn’t believe in it and the other who enjoys the chase too much to care about commitment. When the pads of her fingers grazed his face yesterday, he thought he would do anything else to have it on him again. He’d chop off the hand of anyone else who tried to touch him if it meant forgetting what she made him sense. With her standing in front of him, he could have all of that. However, he knows how fragile her heart is and he can’t be the one to accidentally break it. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about Y/N. I like Amanda and I’m going on a date with her. What else would all of this be for? You and I are purely friends and I value that friendship.” 

A dagger to her back isn’t the word for what this feels like. It’s more accurate to say that he put a bag over her head and held it there to leave her gasping for air. This is why she doesn’t believe in love. Because right when a person thinks they have it, the universe rips it away from them in some cruel act. It’s what happened to her mother and it is what’s happening to her at this moment. She fights back the swell that is trying to burst through her tear ducts. She steps away from him, inching toward the front door. Her head swivels to the side and she watches the potted plant on the side sway with the wind. “Right, friends. How could I be so wrong? I mean what would I know about love if I’ve never been in it? I’m going to go. Good luck on your date,” she apologizes, leaving without letting him say another word. Once she is gone, Rafe doesn’t know how he keeps himself upright. His head feels dizzy and his heart is being put through a shredder. He had to do it. There is no happy ending for them. Not for two people who have no idea what it is to be in love.

———

A month with Amanda was one month too long. Every date they went on further proved the mistake he made the day of their first date. He tried to be the boyfriend she deserved. Tried to fall in love with her. Just because it started as a dare, doesn’t mean it can’t be more for him. Nothing he did could make that sentiment true. His mind was occupied with someone else. With someone, he is trying to protect by lying about how he truly feels about her. This was wrong though and he knew how he could fix it. “And my dress to the party is going to be light pink, so I need your tie to mat-” Amanda can’t finish her thought cause Rafe interrupts her. “I think we should break up.” Her lips move to form soundless words. “Wh-what do you mean?” she cries with her bottom lip quivering. “We aren’t working out. I think it’s best that we break up,” he justifies. He gets up from the table and jogs out of the coffee shop to his car. If they never dated, then he couldn’t break her heart. Except it also meant he didn’t get to spend any more doughnut days. He didn’t get any more afternoons watching The Good Place. He didn’t go to The Wreck out of fear of seeing her. Getting those moments with her is worth the possibility of ending up unhappy because then he would have the good memories they made to keep him company. Mistakes can be made and they can also be fixed. 

———

Topper and Kelce talk at the booth in the corner, pausing every time Y/N gets close to them. She pays no real attention to them whilst she cleans the table around them. She focuses on finishing her task so she can go home when her shift finishes in ten minutes.  Once she finishes wiping down the table, she picks up the bus tub and starts to head toward the kitchen. Her hand goes for her phone, which makes her realize she left her phone on the chair back there. She spins to get it and catches the back end of the boys’ conversation. “I mean not only does he call her a dog, but he also compared her fuckability to a bag of potatoes and the universe is still like ‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help you win 10K by helping you get a date with her best friend.’ I mean how is that fair.” The tub at the side of her hip clatters on the ground, causing the friends to turn in her direction. “Shit,” Topper whispers. She storms toward them and slams her hands against the table, “Tell me everything.” And for fear of their dicks, they divulge every single detail about that night at the bonfire. 

———

Thanks to Sarah, who asked Kiara, Rafe knew that Y/N was working today and that her shift was about to end. He leans up against the truck, waiting for her to exit the restaurant. He thinks against putting her bike in his truck already, so she doesn’t feel obligated to talk to him. He pushes off of the side of the truck as soon as he catches sight of her walking down the wooden ramp. He frowns the closer she gets because he can now clearly see that she is touching her face to wipe away tears. Anger fills him at the thought of someone hurting his Petite Louve. He wants to harm whoever did this to her. 

He rushes to the end of the ramp, “Petite Louve, who did this to you?” He restrains himself from pulling her into a hug; instead, he waits for her to blanket herself in his hold. She freezes at his voice, chuckling at his appearance. “Oh, I didn’t know you cared about me again. Thought you would be too busy basking in the glory of your Beautiful to care for someone who can be out fucked by potatoes,” she growls, furiously digging her palms into her eyes to get rid of her tears. She refuses to let him see her vulnerable again. His eyes widen as words he said so long ago are repeated back to him. His hand drags down his mouth, “Who told you that?” “Does it really matter when it’s your words that are causing me pain?” she counters. His hands ghost her shoulders with a shake. “You don’t know the full story,” he argues, running his hands through his hair. She chortles, “So the full story isn’t that you called me a dog and said that I wasn’t attractive before using me to win a bet that would hurt my best friends. And you LIED about it. You made me so much worse of a friend than I thought I was.” “What I said doesn’t mean anything. It was all a lie. It was before… before I knew who you truly were,” he croaks, knowing this isn’t going to end as he thought it would. 

“It’s either a lie or said because you didn’t know me. Choose one because neither of those things is acceptable to me. And to think that I thought I was actually falling in love with you. You go ahead and prove that everything I thought about love is true.”

“You were falling for me?”

“No. I don’t believe in love, so I guess my brain was a little confused. How could it think that someone so selfish and self-centred could be the one for me?”

He knows that her words are true and are merely a fraction of her agony at the revelation. He is left gapping like a fish, searching for any word that would convey how sorry he is for everything. She isn’t satisfied by his wordless scramble, so she gets onto her bike. She doesn’t look back at him as she rides back home. “Fuck,” he yells once she is finally out of sight. He kicks the tire of his car. Topper and Kelce sheepishly come out, discussing how they are going to reveal this all to Rafe. For all they know, Rafe is in love with Amanda. They stop in their tracks. “Rafe…What are you doing here?” Topper frets, approaching the boy hesitantly. Rafe’s eyes burn into their souls, “WHO TOLD HER?” “It was an accident man. We’re sorry. Maybe she won’t tell Amanda,” Kelce hopes. Rafe’s hand tugs at the strands of his hair, “I don’t fucking care about Amanda. Y/N is torn up about what happened and she hates me even more than before. I was about to try to fix everything and now because of you two shitheads, I have no chance.” He slams the car door entering it, cursing why he had to screw this up in the first place.

———

Y/N had to tell Amanda the truth. She isn’t like Rafe; she can’t lie to the people she cares about. “I’m so sorry, Babe. I understand if you don’t want to be friends. I would hate myself too. I just hope you can forgive me for what I have done,” she begs with tears in her eyes. Amanda’s hand cups her friend’s, “I love you and it’s the past.” Y/N looks at Amanda with big eyes.

“You are too forgiving.”

“Or maybe you aren’t forgiving enough. Your mom forgave your dad a long time ago, so why shouldn’t I forgive you?” 

“Are you back onto this again? You think I should forgive my dad.” 

“He needs a chance, not forgiveness. From the moment you were old enough, you hated your dad. He has never gotten the chance to show you that he loves you. I mean, have you ever asked your mom how she feels now about everything?” 

Y/N stiffens, taking in the suggestion her best friend gave. Amanda continues at Y/N’s silence, “Because I have, Y/N/N. She said that in the moment, it felt horrible. But… as she got older, she realized that it was the right choice. Their relationship was the product of an affair, so she would’ve never been able to trust him if they got married.” “I… uhh… I never knew she felt that way,” Y/N admits, bowing her head in shame. Amanda squeezes Y/N’s hand, “That’s okay. You do now, therefore it means you can change. Give your dad a chance. Now, tell me what is going on with you and Rafe?” “Nothing has been going on with him,” Y/N lies. Amanda giggles, “I’m your best friend. I know when you are lying.” “Fine, I thought that I was falling for him. It was a mistake. He was just using me to get to you. I let him convince me to hurt you and I was such a bad friend for that,” Y/N reasons. Amanda shakes her head, “Please stop beating yourself up over that. As for Rafe, I think it turned into something so much more than getting your help with me.” “Why would you say that?” Y/N inquiries with a tilt of her head. “He broke up with me earlier tonight and he seemed to be on a mission when he left. From what you told me, he was going to tell you something,” Amanda starts to illuminate. “Plus, I know people think that I’m clueless, but I could tell his mind was occupied by someone else during our relationship. He always wanted to watch The Good Place while eating powdered jelly doughnuts. In hindsight, that should’ve been my indicators as to who he was thinking about.”

Y/N looks at her best friend with glassy eyes, “Really?” “Yeah, I would go along with it because it made me feel like I was hanging out with you. And I like hanging out with you too,” Amanda confesses, looking down with a smile. Y/N is touched by her soul sister’s words and pulls Amanda into a hug, “That was so sweet. You know you are more intelligent than people give you credit for and I’m sorry I don’t realize that more often.” “It’s okay. And I know I’m smart. I also know that you need someone to take care of.” Amanda kisses her friend’s forehead and they remain in each other’s grasp for the rest of the night. 

———

After seeing her for the first time in a month, Rafe didn’t know how he lived without her. What they had was so brief, yet it burned so brightly in his mind. He keeps reliving the memory of them in his mind and it makes his heartache that he doesn’t have more with her. He has to make this right with her for his sanity and his heart. He can’t relive the past; he has to find a way to make a future for them possible. This leads him to the one person in the world who will know how to fix everything. It kinda feels like an ironic full circle to him. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now after I broke your heart. But I really do need your help,” he pleads to Amanda, who is in her backyard tanning. Her eyes find him through her sunglasses, “I’m more pissed off that you hurt Y/N more than anything you did to me.” “Right, right. I can understand why you feel that way. What I did to both of you was shitty,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. She shrugs, “It was. I thought she was finally coming around to the idea of love and now, thanks to you, she feels like she has direct confirmation that it isn’t real.” “I’m sorry.” She scoffs, “Sorry isn’t exactly going to fix what you did.” 

“I know. I’ll do anything to get your forgiveness. And I want to show Y/N that love is really because… Because I love her.”

Amanda sits up completely at the new revelation, “You love her?” “I do. I can’t get her out of my head. I wake up and I’m thinking about her. I go to sleep and I’m thinking about her. Every moment in between I spend beating myself up for letting her go,” he rants, tearing up at the thought of this not going where he wants to go. She crosses her arms, “Well, I want you to be beating yourself up forever.” “Don’t you also want to see Y/N happy?” he counters. 

“I do. And that’s what do you want to do? Make her happy?”

“I want to make her the happiest fucking person in the world and I would give up anything in the world for that to happen.” 

“Fine, I’ll help you. If you hurt her though, I will have my father pull out of the deal with yours and absolutely take down Cameron Development. It’s my turn to be protective of her.” 

Rafe nods, “I would deserve so much more than that if I hurt Y/N. Now, how many rom-coms am I going to have to watch and do you have doughnuts for while we are watching them?” 

———

Y/N couldn’t believe she was considering doing this right now. She’s walked up and down the driveway so many times that she seriously thinks she should get on her bike and leave. The door swinging open stops her from escaping the situation. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Willard steps outside and rushes to check on his daughter. She steps back to stay away from her father’s touch. “I’m fine, Dad. Can I ask you a question?” she cuts to the chase. Willard’s head moves up and down, “Of course. Anything, Kiddo.” “Did you really love Mom?” she spews, eyes glued to her hands playing with themselves. His eyes are slightly wide as he answers, “I did. I regret lying and causing her pain, especially since it meant losing the chance to be your father.” “Why did you do it then?” she pushes further, needing all the answers as to why her father broke their family apart before they could become one. He stares at her for a second, “Life is complicated. I had an affair with your mother when my marriage was showing signs of problems. I was young and thought that running from my problems was the solution. When I found out about you, I realized I had to grow up. So I went back home, worked on my marriage, and focused on earning money to help provide for you.” 

“I was the reason why you broke Mom’s heart?” she whimpers, an awful feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of risking her mother’s love life. Willard shakes his head, “No, none of this is your fault, Kiddo. I was the idiot who broke your mother’s heart. It was never your fault, so don’t think that for even a second.” “Right. Well, thank you for answering my questions,” she states, backing away from her father with her head down low. He scrambles after his daughter, “Wait, is that all you wanted to talk about?” She falls in a standstill. “No… I was thinking that maybe we could go out together sometime. I think that I want to give our relationship a chance.” Willard grins, “Of course, I’m free right now if you want to go out for a late lunch.” “I can work with that,” she agrees.

———

Lunch with her father worked quite well and her mom was glad that it did. “I think it’s great that you are trying to have a relationship with your dad. The resentment you had for him wasn’t healthy,” Cordelia praises her daughter, bringing her into a hug. Y/N smiles at her mom, “Yeah, it was fun. Although, I still don’t think I want him paying for uni if he doesn’t have to. I want to try having a little bit of my own independence.” “I think that’s great, Baby. Remember that your father and I are always here to help you if you need it,” Cordelia assures. A knock at the door pulls them apart. “I’ll get it.” Her mother leaves her bedroom, so she flops back on her bed with a sigh. “Y/N, you have a guest,” the mother announces from downstairs. Y/N groans because she is just getting comfortable. She rolls out of bed and falls on the floor with a grunt. Her hair is a little chaotic, yet doesn’t bother to fix it. The echo of her weight jumping from stair to stair is the only one that can be heard throughout the house. “Babe, I didn’t know you were coming ov-” Y/N starts, thinking Amanda is at the door because it is the only plausible answer. She ceases once she lays a sight on who it is. “You have a lot of balls coming here,” she says with her hand coming down on her jutted-out hip. 

Rafe gives her a sheepish smile, “I know. Could we talk?” Y/N huffs, thinking about her new streak of giving people chances. She turns to her mother, who is standing near the door. “You guys probably want privacy. I really don’t want to; however, I will be going to the store to get more… eggs?” Cordelia excuses herself, taking her purse and keys to head to the store. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out now that they are alone. Her eyebrows raise, “Is that all you wanted to say?” “No, it’s just the beginning of everything I have to say. I wanted to give you a chance to back out,” he acknowledges. 

She motions with her hands for him to continue. “Lying to you so it risked your relationship with Amanda was horrible. I’m glad that you guys are still friends. It was also terrible that thing that I said about sex and potatoes. It was out of line. I’m sorry and don’t believe that it is true. Those weren’t my biggest mistakes though. My biggest mistake was telling you that we didn’t have any chemistry. Because we fucking do. We have a whole chemistry lab. Test tubs and drugs and all,” he raves. She doesn’t want to giggle, except that the comparison he made was too good not to laugh at. “You know people normally equate chemistry with sparks or fireworks,” she faults, turning her head to the side so he can’t see her amusement. He chuckles with her, “I don’t think we can be considered as normal. I’m an idiot who messes everything up half of the time and you are a stubborn girl who doesn’t believe in love.” “So you’re saying that all girls have to believe in love,” she chides. Rafe panics, “No, I didn’t mean it like that I… uh.” 

“It’s fine, stopping blubbering like a fish out of water,” she commands. His mouth closes and he scratches the back of his neck. “I see you haven’t lost your bark,” he comments. 

“If I lose my bark, then I wouldn’t be me.”

“Right, petite louves always have a bark.”

“Wolves don’t bark. They howl.”

“Okay, I think we are a little off track.”

She shuts up at his words, waiting for him to continue. Silence fills the room as Rafe gets everything off of his chest. “That’s all you want to say?” she confirms. His mouth ups and closes before he nods. “It’s my turn to talk. One. I don’t really care about the potato thing. I’m a virgin so I don’t expect to have any sort of skill in that department. Two. You are lucky Amanda forgave me or else your dick would be hammered to my bike. Three. I tried to open up to you and you lied to me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?” she tirades. Rafe hmms, “Those are all valid points. And I hope maybe you can trust me by letting me show you that I truly love you.” “You don’t love me. You just think you do. Love doesn’t exist,” she reveals. Rafe objects, “I think that you changed your mind on it and are too scared to admit that you did.” “Yeah because look where believing in love landed me. Almost losing my best friend and my heart felt like it just got crushed by an anvil,” she fires back with venom laced in her words. A crooked smile forms on his lips, “So you admit that you do love me.” “I-I… umm. That’s not wh-... um,” she babbles, trying to untie herself from the net he caught her in. 

He takes this as a chance to step closer to her, “Now, look who is the fish, Petite Louve.” He perceives the way her breath stops falling on his skin and a sense of victory finds its way through him. She stares up at him with a dumbfounded look, trying to think of a comeback. Rather than doing so, she falls victim to her own desires and pulls him down so her lips can meet his. His arms grip her waist, just above her bum to pull her closer to him. Their kiss deepens and suddenly, air isn’t something they need. A cough from the front door ends the motion of their lips. Their heads press together as they see who is there. Cordelia gives the pair a bashful smile, “Sorry, I forgot my phone.” 

They wait for her to get her phone from the kitchen. “Rafe, you are staying for dinner when I get back. I also look forward to hearing your apology to me for hurting my baby girl,” Cordelia proclaims, closing the door at the last word. Y/N steps away from him, examining the hardwood floor to gather her thoughts. “This doesn’t mean that everything is completely fine between us. You don’t get to earn my trust back with the snap of your fingers,” she discloses, toeing at the floor with the point of her foot. Rafe’s head bobs, “Definitely, I understand. It will take at least a thousand strawberry jelly doughnuts for that.” She gives him a shove, laughing through her nose. “It’s going to take a lot more than doughnuts for what you have to do,” she adds. “I know. I am prepared to give you all the jelly doughnuts in the world and so much more to help you truly believe in love.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[ollycohens]

oh no you guys. i’m going to spew things i’ve realized while rewatching umbrella academy. I’m realizing were all being too sucked into fanon things after being stuck without canon content for so long. We have convinced ourselves Five acts like a mean mean dude to everyone but rewatching, i’ve realized he’s only stressed and is saying things out of panicked anger, especially in s1 with the apocalypse dooming over them. he acts soft to his siblings multiple times, he’s really not as mean as we write him in fanfiction. he is a little crap though, that’s for sure, and i love him for that <3

also realizing that the siblings don’t hate five. they just literally don’t know him at all. he came back a completely different person after 17 years for the siblings, they don’t know five, he’s a stranger so of course they’re gonna be cold to him. it’s like, “i don’t know you well, but you’re always going to be my brother in the end”.

ALSO. for those who ship some of the siblings, uhm… i’ve seen a lot of you guys try to prove that they don’t see eachother as siblings and more like academy students, but they very much say in just about every episode that they see eachother as siblings. they don’t actually SAY that word by word but they say things like “she’s our sister”, or “our dad”. if they say OUR dad… bro. i’m not even going to continue, you can put it together yourself. But, i do realize why people ship the siblings. I am not defending incest shippers but with umbrella academy i can see why people have resorted to it. only 3 of the characters in the main sibling cast has romantic partners. people like shipping people, people love writing romantic relationships, but with only diego/lila, dave/klaus, and sissy/viktor, (i’m not going to count five/dolores for now) people are desperate with the need to ship the rest of the siblings with someone, and since there are only a few actual canon characters in the show that interact with our main 7, people start shipping them together… yikes. anywho, that’s all for that peice. i blame the show writers as well for shipping luther/allison, they did not have to do that, but i’m hoping it was only to convey the severity of what childhood trauma does to people.

ALSO THIS HERE SHOOK ME. I actually think Reginald cares for the siblings. i hate to say it, but it’s true. caring for them does not mean being good, though. he was a horrible father, and person, but he genuinely did care for the siblings, in a like, “being the best is the best thing for you, i will make you better, for your sake, even if you don’t know it now, you will see that i am right” kind of way.

also why has NOBODY MENTIONED THIS. in season 2 when diego first reunites with five in the asylum, while he’s walking into the visitors room, he’s staring at five with this heartfelt, soft look, and then says “five…” in the most soft spoken voice ever 😭 your honor i love them

ALSO UGHHH THIS. IM GOING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT CAMERAWORK AND METAPHORS HERE SO BARE WITH ME. we as a fandom complain about the lack of flashbacks five has due to his ptsd. we’ve seen his first flashback since getting back to his family in s1 during the van scene when he gets triggered by those kids playing and starts thinking about his own childhood, i’m guessing. i ate that scene up, and was sad to see that be one of the only deeply vulnerable scenes he has in the season, and during my first watch i thought they’d never bring it back up. but they do!! i may be stupid for not realizing but whatever. in season 2, when five is trying to explain at elliot’s with all his siblings around that another apocalypse is coming, everyone starts talking about each other. as someone who studies film and camerawork, i love this scene. we see the camera focus on five as it slowly zooms in. it doesn’t switch scenes at all as the siblings voices overlap and echo over eachother. this whole scene conveys him getting overwhelmed and he starts to zone out, starting to think of the nuclear war he saw his siblings in. the scenes of the war start quickly switching through, showing many different scenes of it before it switches back to five, who says “guys, you all die. i want to forget it but i can’t” which just UGH its so well done there. if you think about it, he was starting to slip into another flashback. he was triggered by talking about their deaths in the war but was handling it well until the siblings started fighting, where we see the overlapping voices happen. it portrays him losing control and being unable to pull it back together with too much going on for him to focus on grounding himself. we DO however, see that five was able to pull himself out before he fell too deep into the flashback. i love how they show this through them still having the scene showing the war, but then fives voice starts talking over the scene which is still focusing on the war as if he was pushing it back and forcing himself to come back to the present.

thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far, i will continue to freak out another time <3

[cursedlovesstuff]

The Puppy Suprise. N.R.

Y/N fumbled with their keys as they unlocked the door, exhaustion weighing them down.

They sighed, the stress of the day lingering like a heavy cloud over their head.

All they wanted was a quiet night with Natasha maybe order some takeout, collapse on the couch, and let the chaos of the world melt away.

When they finally stepped inside, something felt... different. The apartment was unusually quiet. Natasha was always the first to greet them, either with a soft hello or a teasing remark. But tonight, there was nothing.

"Nat?" Y/N called out, shutting the door behind them. They slipped out of their jacket, hanging it on the hook as they scanned the space. The living room was dim, a soft glow from the table lamp casting warm shadows on the walls.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Babe? You home?”

There was a faint rustling sound coming from deeper inside the apartment. Something like... tiny footsteps? Y/N’s senses immediately kicked in, their instincts sharpening.

They took a cautious step forward, their body tense, ready for whatever unexpected surprise might await them.

Then, out of nowhere, a small yip pierced the quiet.

Y/N froze.

“...Was that...?”

Curiosity overtook caution as Y/N quickened their pace toward the source of the sound. And there, in the center of the living room, was Natasha. Sitting on the floor, cross-legged with the most uncharacteristically soft expression Y/N had ever seen on her face.

But it wasn’t just Natasha that made Y/N’s heart stop it was the tiny, squirming ball of fur nestled in her lap.

“Natasha,” Y/N breathed, stepping closer, their voice full of disbelief. “Is that a... puppy?”

Natasha looked up, her green eyes shimmering in the soft light, and smiled a small, almost shy smile that Y/N rarely saw, one reserved only for them.

“Yeah,” she said softly, her voice gentle, almost uncertain. “I’ve been waiting for you to get home.”

Y/N blinked, their gaze shifting from the puppy, who was now squirming in Natasha’s lap, to the woman holding him. They were stunned, completely speechless. “You got us... a puppy?” they asked, their voice full of awe.

Natasha rose slowly, cradling the puppy in her arms as she walked toward Y/N. She stopped just inches away, holding out the little furball with the utmost care. “Yes I did” she said simply, her tone laced with something deeper something vulnerable.

Y/N’s heart did a somersault in their chest as they gently took the puppy from her.

The little dog, no bigger than a football, wiggled excitedly in their arms, his tiny tail wagging furiously. His soft fur brushed against Y/N’s skin as he nuzzled into them, letting out a tiny yawn.

Y/N looked down at the puppy, and then back at Natasha, their eyes wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe this... You... you actually got us a puppy?”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a smirk, but her eyes held nothing but softness. “I thought it was time,” she said quietly. “We’ve talked about it enough. You’ve been dropping hints for months.”

Y/N chuckled, unable to hide the joy bubbling up inside of them. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. You always said we weren’t ready for a dog.”

Nat shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned against the back of the couch, her gaze fixed on Y/N holding the puppy. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she said, her tone playful but her eyes serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us... about the future.”

Y/N’s breath caught in their throat at her words. Natasha wasn’t one to speak openly about emotions at least, not usually.

Her love was quieter, more subtle, woven into gestures and touches. But this... this felt like something more.

Y/N stepped closer to her, still cradling the puppy in their arms, feeling the weight of her words settle over them. “The future?” they asked softly, their voice full of curiosity.

Natasha’s gaze softened as she uncrossed her arms and stepped into Y/N’s space. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against the puppy’s soft fur before trailing up to Y/N’s wrist, her touch warm and reassuring.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want us to have more than just... the missions and the chaos. I want something that’s ours. Something we can build together.”

Y/N felt their heart swell in their chest, the warmth of her words flooding through them. They hadn’t expected this not from Natasha, not now. But hearing it feeling it made everything in the world seem right.

“You mean... this is more than just a puppy?” Y/N asked, their voice trembling with the weight of the moment.

Natasha let out a soft laugh, her fingers slipping from Y/N’s wrist to their hand, holding it gently. “Of course it’s more than just a puppy,” she said, her eyes sparkling with affection. “This is... this is us, Y/N. Our next step.”

Y/N swallowed hard, their gaze dropping to the little bundle of joy in their arms. The puppy had settled comfortably against their chest, his tiny head resting in the crook of their arm, his soft breaths warm against their skin.

“He’s perfect,” Y/N whispered, their voice full of emotion. “But... what’s his name?”

Natasha smiled, that rare, genuine smile that made Y/N’s heart race every time. “I was waiting for you to help me with that part,” she said, her voice soft but teasing.

Y/N chuckled, their eyes lighting up with affection as they looked down at the puppy again. “Hmm... I don’t know. How about... Rocket?”

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Rocket? Seriously?”

Y/N grinned, their tone playful. “Hey, he’s got the energy for it. Just look at him!”

The puppy let out a small yip, as if to agree, causing both of them to laugh. Natasha shook her head, her eyes softening even further as she stepped closer, her body brushing against Y/N’s.

“How about something with a little more heart?” she suggested.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to her, their heart pounding in their chest. “Okay, okay,” they murmured, thinking for a moment. “How about... Lucky?”

Natasha’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes locking onto Y/N’s with a look that could melt steel. “Lucky,” she repeated,“I like that.”

Y/N grinned, nodding in agreement. “Lucky it is, then.”

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, Lucky nestled between them, his tiny form fitting perfectly into the little world they had created for themselves.

Y/N leaned up slightly, brushing a soft kiss against the top of Natasha’s head. “Thank you,” they whispered, their voice full of love. “For this. For everything.”

Natasha tilted her down to meet their gaze, her eyes full of something deep and unspoken. “Don’t thank me yet,” she teased lightly, though her tone was gentle. “Wait until he chews up your shoes.”

Y/N laughed, the sound rich with happiness. “Worth it,” they said softly, their forehead resting against hers.

Natasha’s arms slid around Y/N’s waist, pulling them closer as she pressed her lips against their cheek. “I’m glad you think so,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth.

Y/N felt the weight of the moment settle over them, a deep contentment blooming in their chest.

[deltaruminations]

i think one of the most telling examples of how we’ve been influenced to think about gaster is that if we say no to him after he asks if we want to continue after a chapter 1 game over, we’ll proceed to hear the absolute gentlest most heartbroken fucking unaccompanied piano arrangement of gaster’s motif any of us has ever heard and we’ll still be like "huh wonder why THAT’S there."

it’s because he’s sad!!! he’s fucking sad!!! this is the sound of an incorporeal man holding back metaphysical tears!!! WHY would the game have us linger here at a black screen instead of immediately going back to the menu like a normal RPG would? because it wants us to have this quiet moment in the dark with him, to finally catch him in a moment that’s raw and deeply vulnerable and unmarred by either cryptic mythologizing or his own mask of confident, neutral professionalism, just a black screen and a tender, melancholic song. and then he closes the fucking game himself.

it’s like, after narrating our ending, he just can’t think of anything else to say. he doesn’t want to tell us to go away because he probably doesn’t want us to, we’re both his last hope for success and the only person he’s been able to "connect" with in a very long time. he just sits there awkwardly with us while he quietly processes the situation, before he finally accepts that this is the world’s (and his) fate and he can’t force us to stay there with him any longer.

again im not trying to woobify him, what im saying is that we’re so used to seeking out spooky, vaguely sinister lore for an extraplanar entity that even when we finally meet him, it doesn’t occur to us that he could just be another character, one who’s VERY different from the other characters but a character nonetheless.

gaster is fundamentally cryptic and ambiguous, possibly in part because he intends to be hard to read. i think he hides himself between layers and behind clinical speech and trees because he’s uncomfortable with being seen, but he isn’t a perfect rational being, he’s just a guy, and he can’t connect with us without risking "pieces" of himself seeping through. just as undertale challenged us to hunt through it for pieces of gaster’s lore, deltarune is now going out of its way to give us insight into his character, but just as with his lore, we have to seek it out and consider it carefully in order to learn anything. like do you understand why im suddenly so obsessed with this guy!!! not to mention all the ways he parallels kris and chara and alphys and serves as a reflection of the player and. god. i love these fucking video james so much

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Naughty Dreams – Steve Harrington

Warnings: wet dreams, protected sex, fulfilling kink, language

Steve's POV

As the credits began to roll, I looked around my family room. The kids who weren't asleep were barely awake. I laughed and turned to Y/N to point it out but found she was asleep too. I carefully stood up and gently laid her down. I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and covered her with it.

I went around the room, gently waking the kids. They were groggy and confused.

"What's going on?" Dustin asked.

"I'm taking you home, idiot," I laughed. "Let's go."

When I finally got them in the car, I started to drive away. I had just dropped off Erica and Lucas. All that was left was Dustin.

"I know your secret," he said in an irritating tone.

"What?" I deadpanned.

"You and Y/N sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," he sang loudly.

"Shut up," I scoffed, pushing his head to the side. "Nothing is going on between us."

"Exactly," Dustin laughed. "And it's driving you crazy."

"What are you. . ."

"You wish something was going on between you guys," he cut me off. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my latest dream coming back to me.

He sighed when saw me roll my shoulders. He took it a different way. Which was fine. He's only a teenager. He doesn't need to hear about my wet dreams about my best friend.

"Look," he sighed, "you and Y/N have been inseparable ever since I met you guys. I'd have to be completely naive not to notice what's going on between the two of you."

"Don't be an idiot," I said, clearing my throat. The last thing I needed was to get my hopes up that Y/N and I could be anything more than best friends.

"I'm not," he instantly defended himself. "I've seen it. We all have."

"Seen what?" I couldn't help but ask.

"You and Y/N have this. . . connection."

"We're friends," I stuttered.

"Come on," he snorted. "Just friends?"

"I mean. . ."

"Just tell me the truth," he sighed. "Do you have feelings for Y/N or do you have feelings for Y/N?"

I glanced over at him and sighed. "Yes," I said under my breath. "Alright? Happy now? I don't just have feelings for her. I'm in love with her. Every day I think about how she should be with me. How I could protect her. How I could take care of her. How I would spend every day of my life making sure she was happy."

"Then why don't you tell her?" He asked, leaning his head against the headrest.

"Because. . ." I stuttered. I sighed as I pulled in front of Dustin's house. "What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"She does."

I snapped my head toward him. "What are you talking about?"

He turned toward me and smirked. "You really didn't know," he laughed. "Welcome to sixth grade, Steve. Best friends fall in love all the time. Especially girl-boy friendships."

"Can you stop being an ass for just one second?" I sighed. "I'm trying to be serious. How do you know that Y/N feels the same way about me?"

"It's the way she looks at you," he said finally not acting like an asshole. "It's the way she runs to you. It's the way she depends on you. It's the way she falls asleep on your shoulder."

"Falls asleep on my shoulder? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"My mom believes that if a girl falls asleep on your shoulder it means she trusts you. Completely."

"What are you talking about?"

"When you're asleep, you're at your most vulnerable," he continued. "So if a girl falls asleep next to you, it means she trusts you to watch over her and protect her. Y/N falls asleep in your arms all the time. She trusts you."

"That could be because we've been friends since we were little," I started but Dustin's laugh cut me off.

"Come on, Steve," he chuckled. "Just tell her already. You'll both be a lot happier once you do."

                                * * * * *

I put my car in park and slowly got out. I locked it and headed into my house. I closed the door behind me and stopped when I saw Y/N still asleep on the couch. I smiled, not moving as I watched her sleep.

When I realized it was creepy, I slowly and carefully started walking up to my room. Until. . .

"Oh, Steve."

I froze.

"Keep going," Y/N moaned.

I turned around and saw that she was still asleep. My heart dove into my stomach and my stomach did a flip when I realized what was happening.

Y/N was having a wet dream. . .  About me.

"Steve, that feels. . ." She cut herself off with a moan I longed to hear over and over.

I forced myself to go upstairs. As much as I wanted to listen to her moan my name, I knew I couldn't. I was almost to the stairs when my clumsy self surfaced. It started with me trying to take off my shoes. It ended with me knocking over a lamp.

Y/N jumped awake, looking around confused. She looked over her shoulder and laughed when she saw me awkwardly holding up the lamp.

"You okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine," I said shakily.

She stood up and walked over to me. "Are you sure?" She pushed. "Steve, I know you. Something is wrong. What's going on?"

"It's nothing," I tried. I stopped talking when I saw the look on her face.

"Please," she whispered. "Talk to me."

"I heard you."

"What?" She stuttered. "What are you. . ."

"I took the kids home," I started to explain even though I wished I would shut up. "I know you haven't been sleeping well so I decided to let you sleep while I dropped them off. When I got home. . . You were still asleep but you were dreaming."

Y/N's eyes widened. She took a small step back, her breathing slowing. "What did you hear?" She asked under her breath.

"You," I answered under my breath. "I heard you. . ."

Reader's POV

I couldn't take the embarrassment. Steve had heard me talking in my sleep. I could only imagine what he heard. I wanted to run. I wanted to cry. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me.

I turned around and started to run away. Steve didn't let me get far. He grabbed my hand and spun me around, pulling me into his chest.

"Steve," I said, my voice breaking. "Please let me go."

"No."

"Steve. . ."

"Tell me."

"What?" I gasped.

"Tell me about your dream," he said under his breath. I shook my head, trying to pull away but he stopped me.

"I can't," I stuttered. "It's too embarrassing."

"Maybe if you tell me," he whispered, not looking away from me, "I can fulfill your dream."

"You can. . ."

Before I could wrap my head around what he was hinting at, Steve gently leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I thought about my dream and his comment made sense. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Things escalated as our momentum knocked us back. We laughed, breaking the kiss when we almost fell onto the stairs. Luckily, Steve caught me.

"First things first," I said between my heavy breathing. "Take me upstairs. That's where it happened."

I gasped, turning into a giggle when Steve picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. I leaned in and started kissing his neck as he carried me upstairs to his room.

The butterflies in my stomach danced when I heard him kick his bedroom door open. He walked across his room and dropped me onto his bed. I stood up and brought his shirt with me. Without a word, I reached down and undid his pants. He slipped his fingers into his pants and finished discarding them for me.

I slipped my fingers into his boxers but Steve grabbed my hands, stopping me. He slowly slid his fingers into my under and brought them down with him as he knelt. As Steve stood up, his face was inches from my body. When he was standing, Steve put his hands on my bare stomach and pushed me back onto the bed. I giggled as I leaned back on my hands and looked up at him.

Steve reached down and grabbed my legs, opening them wide enough for him. He stood between my legs and nodded toward my shirt. He watched, chewing his bottom lip as I slowly took it off. I tossed it to the side, not feeling an ounce of insecurity as I showed him my body.

"Damn," he moaned as he started massaging my thighs. "Just as beautiful as I dreamt you would be."

"You've dreamt about me?" I asked, subconsciously sticking my chest out. He chewed on his bottom lip as he let go of one of my thighs, reached up, and gently slid one of my bra straps off.

"All the time," he said under his breath. "I constantly dream about you, baby. What I want to do. What I want to see. What I want to hear."

"And what do you want to see?" I asked.

"You," he said, not looking up from my chest. I reached behind myself and unhooked my bra. I saw the lump in his boxers tighten even more as I discarded my bra.

"And what do you want to hear?" I asked, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him so we were laying down with him on top of me.

"You," he whispered, "moaning my name. Over. And over. And over again. Getting louder with each moan."

I reached up and slowly slid his underwear off. I couldn't help but look down at what I'd dreamt about. I took a shaky breath as I forced myself to look back at his face. I slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. I let go of one of his shoulders and grabbed a condom out of his bedside table.

"And what do you want to do to me, Steve?" I smirked as I showed it to him. He instantly grabbed it and tore it open. I chewed on my bottom lip, holding back a moan as I watched him slip it on.

"This," he said as he pushed himself into me. I arched my back, the moan I'd been holding back finally releasing.

"Fuck," I gasped as he pulled out of me and pushed back in. This was the start of his thrusts.

"That's it, baby girl," he said through his teeth. "Keep moaning like that."

"As long as you keep moving like that."

We both let out breathy moans as our bodies danced in bed. Just like we promised, I continued to moan for him and he continued to move for me. I closed my eyes, arching my back as he changed his pace from fast to slow to fast to slow.

I dug my nails into his shoulder blades as I pushed his chest against mine. Steve moaned as he rubbed his chest, smashing my breasts against his chest.

"Fuck, Y/N," he moaned. He smashed his lips onto mine, instantly slipping his tongue into my mouth, and began exploring every inch of my mouth. I moaned as another part of my dream came true.

Steve broke the kiss and started sucking on my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. After a few hickeys had formed, I grabbed his face and pulled him away.

"Son of a. . ." He moaned. I shushed him as I moved him down. He smirked as he caught onto the next part of my dream I wanted him to fulfill. I pushed his face between my breasts, and Steve instantly began making out with my breasts.

"Oh Steve," I moaned as I arched my back, pressing my chest further toward his face.

I felt him smirk as his tongue played pinball with my nipple. I slid my hands down his back until I got to his bare ass. I clenched my hands around his ass cheeks, pushing him into me.

"Don't forget about your movements, baby."

"Sorry," he moaned, still pressed to my chest. "Won't happen again."

We fell into a rhythm as Steve thrust into me and I moved him so he fulfilled different parts of my dream.

"Is there anything else I can do?" I gasped after we switched our positions and Steve was guiding me down on him.

"Call me a special name, Y/N," he moaned as he watched my body. He looked up at me with a dirty smirk on his face. "One only you use when we're fulfilling one of our dreams. I'll call you "baby girl". Now you come up with one."

"Stevie," I moaned as he pushed me down onto him hard.

"Perfect," he growled as he continued. "But only you get to call me Stevie."

"And only you get to hear these noises come out of me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

I gasped when Steve quickly switched our positions. I looked at him, nerves flooding my body.

"Was something wrong with how I was doing it?" I asked under my breath.

"Of course not, baby girl," he said softly. "I was about to finish and all of my dreams end with us finishing with me on top. Is that okay?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. "Sounds perfect, Stevie."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Our mouths started moving roughly in sync as we pushed each other over the edge. We reached our orgasms only seconds apart.

"Oh, Stevie!" I moaned as he rolled off of me.

"That was amazing, baby girl."

I looked over at him to see him smiling at me. The way he was looking at me made the butterflies go crazy. I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for fulfilling my dream," I whispered. Steve pulled me into his chest, leaning my head over his heart. I closed my eyes, listening as our breathing slowed and fell in sync.

"Y/N," Steve whispered a few minutes later, "before you fall asleep, there's something I gotta say to you."

"Okay," I mumbled, cuddling into his bare side.

"I'm crazy into you," he said, sounding all sighy. "I've had feelings for you for as long as I can remember and I don't plan on not having those feelings any time soon."

"I sure hope not," I giggled as I rolled over so I was laying on him. I sat up, gently scratching his bare chest. Steve sighed as he dragged his hands up and down my back.

"I mean it, Y/N," he whispered. "I've dreamt about this finally happening between us. Now that it has, I'm not going to let anything stop us from being together."

I leaned down and gently kissed him. He pressed on my back, deepening the kiss. He let out a small moan as I broke the kiss.

"Let's make a deal," I whispered, my face inches from his.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Whenever one of us has another naughty dream," I moaned at the thought, "we tell the other about it so they can fulfill it."

I gasped when Steve flipped us over. He leaned down and kissed me harder this time. Our lips moved in sync, our tongues instantly battling for dominance.

Steve broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily as we came down from our temporary highs. He said my name in a deep voice that sent a chill down my spine.

"Then we have a lot of catching up to do, baby girl."

[willelworld]

thinking rink-o-mania thoughts.

genuinely one of the wildest scenes in st4. they didn’t need to do all that but they did.

mike. what was up with him. that was WAY more frustration bottled up than from being mad at will for a couple hours at most. we know from their argument he wishes will would’ve reached out more. he’d been building up this day in his head for months, stirring in his confusion and anger and mourning the physical loss of two of the most important people in his life.

and when it finally comes, mike flubs the beginning. will shies away for the entire day.

​with mike’s outburst, it felt like he was more mad at WILL keeping something from him, than the fact that his girlfriend had just been traumatically bullied. he spends precious time arguing with will, IN PUBLIC, rather than finding el.

and how awful he was treating el on the way home and at dinner. how awful their communication was in that fight in the morning. how he tried shifting any fault off of himself. how horrible he felt, enough to throw away her note in frustration.

then juxtaposed with his conversation with will?

it’s night and day. not only does mike speak honestly, he genuinely apologizes and takes accountability. without pushing the blame onto will, or to any “mouth breathers” that got between them. he and will’s friendship is stronger for this moment, enough that it emboldens will to take his painting for later on.

you can see how he spends the rest of the season inching towards his own truth. he’s more vulnerable than we’ve ever seen him before. he has no responsibilities of leading the party, or protecting anyone. all he has is his head full of insecurity and doubts, and will’s shoulder to lean on.

and mike, with all his miscommunication we just saw with el, is able to talk through his emotions with will effortlessly, to where they both internalize the lessons learned in the heart to hearts. will has a deeper acceptance of his own feelings and identity, and an understanding that he would sacrifice all his love so that mike could feel worthy, important. to see himself like will sees him.

tldr: mike takes his friendship with will more seriously than his relationship with el. mike is much better at communicating with will. both mike and will gain a better understanding of themselves as individuals because of their friendship. they inspire each other to become braver and more confident.

thoughts inspired by one post from @love-byers

[anthurak]

Something I find so damn interesting about Apology Tour is how both the scenes with Blitzo and Stolas actually show us, in real time, how Blitzo’s deep-seated trauma-defenses and internalized self-hatred actively STOP him from forming meaningful connections and burn down the relationships he forms.

In their first scene at the start of the episode, it is painfully OBVIOUS that Blitzo misses Stolas and at some level WANTS to patch things up with him. But at the same time is constantly self-sabotaging with his deeply ingrained emotional defenses. This scene really does show Blitzo at some of the WORST we’ve ever seen him, constantly blowing off, shooting down and mocking Stolas’s attempts at sincerity while being painfully obvious how desperate he still is.

And it’s all because his deeply ingrained emotional defenses and self-loathing actively FIGHTING his sincere love for Stolas in a way that I doubt Blitzo is even fully aware of: Every time he gets anywhere close to genuine sincerity or any kind of true apology, he almost reflexively back-peddles on ‘can’t-be-vulnerable-I’ll-only-get-hurt, can’t-be-vulnerable-I’ll-only-get-hurt’ to push Stolas away, to the point where when some genuine vulnerability slips out in the form of EXACTLY WHAT BLITZO NEEDED TO ADMIT TO STOLAS AND HIMSELF… Blitzo immediately undermines and sabotages it in the most sad and pathetic way possible.

It really makes it clear that what happened in The Full Moon was in NO WAY the product of circumstance or ‘just a misunderstanding’, but instead was the inevitable end result of Blitzo’s and Stolas’s relationship.

Then we have the conversation at Verosika’s party, which I think gives us a look at just how DEEP Blitzo’s self-sabotage and self-loathing really goes.

Because in this scene, unlike in previous ones, Blitzo has been effectively stripped of the normal callous abrasiveness he normally uses to keep people at a distance, with his only attempts being soft and not-even-half-hearted. Instead, what’s most telling about this scene isn’t what Blitzo does say, but what he DOESN’T.

Blitzo is largely quiet through much of this scene while Stolas does most of the talking. However, Blitzo’s nonverbal moments in this scene make it clear that he is both deeply in love with Stolas, and FULLY aware of how in love he is.

Yet it seems that when Blitzo tries to reach out and be sincere and vulnerable, he just… CAN’T.

As in, we see multiple instances during this scene of Blitzo have a chance to and even making what seems to be attempts to reach out and open up to Stolas, only to just… stop.

I think this scene is showing us that Blitzo’s self-hatred and simple, unbridled FEAR of being hurt are so DEEPLY ingrained that he simply CANNOT be truly sincere and vulnerable with Stolas or really anyone. Even when he’s not actively pushing people away, this scene showed us Blitzo being simply unable to actually open up to Stolas.

For me, these scenes and the episode as a whole really confirmed that, regardless of any issues/fault on Stolas' part, Blitzo’s relationship with him, or with anyone, was NEVER going to work as he is now.

These scenes show us that all of Blitzo’s trauma and baggage are actively PREVENTING him from forming close connections with others. And that Blitzo straight-up CANNOT have or maintain a close, meaningful and functional relationship with Stolas, or ANYONE, until he recognizes, confronts, understands and resolves all the trauma and baggage he’s been repressing for the last fifteen years.

So I suppose it’s a good thing that the next episode seems poised to drag him kicking and screaming into such a confrontation.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 7

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence, Sexual harassment. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 6 -- Part 8

Series Masterlist

Everyone was making sure to give Curtis some space. Jake had read aloud the contents of the note you’d sent, “Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything.” This was the excuse they needed to slowly back away from Curtis who was frozen in rage. They immediately got to work notifying everyone in the family. Levinson began coordinating an evacuation of those family members who were most vulnerable, making sure to keep it quick and quiet. Steve and Bucky started moving people around, making sure everyone was armed and on alert. Mace was reaching out to all contacts looking for information.

But all Curtis could do was glare at the phone. The number you were supposed to call when you were safe. The others may have been okay with the note being your signal but not him. He needed to hear you say you were okay. After the way Ransom talked to you he wouldn’t accept anything less than you telling him. No codes, no proxy, just you. 

The phone gave a short tone, indicating a text had been received. He grabbed it and stared at the message from you. As the reality of your words hit him he had to swallow down his panic. 

“JENSEN,” Curtis bellowed. “Tell me you’re tracking Y/N’s phone!”

“Yeah, what…what happened,” Jake asked.

“She’s in trouble,” Curtis barked, loud enough for everyone to hear. He handed Jake the phone, displaying the message. “Find her ASAP! And message me the second you find her.” 

“Curtis,” Mace called after him, “we’ve got higher priorities.”

Curtis glared at his second-in-command, “I said she shouldn’t do this. Everyone else said she should. Now she’s in trouble. We got her into this, we have to rescue her.”

“Be that as it may,” Mace countered, tone calm, “we’re talking about Lloyd and an all out war against the entire family. That’s a lot of people at risk, not just Teach. We have to prioritize appropriately.” The two tried to stare each other down but Mace added, “you know I’m right.” Curtis growled, but Mace didn’t budge. It was one of the main reasons Curtis made him his second: not easily intimidated and always able to keep his eyes on the main prize. It’s what Curtis usually needed to keep himself in line. 

Usually. “You’re in charge of the Garbage,” Curtis snarled. “As soon as Jake gives me an address, I’m grabbing an axe and going after her.” 

Mace’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of an axe, understanding the implications. All he can do is nod his assent and get back to work. No one had seen The Berserker since Curtis left Wilford & Gilliam’s service and swore fealty to the family. Curtis professed, several times, to never wanting to bring him back. But with you in danger, it appears Curtis would use any means to keep you safe. 

Lloyd’s car was probably the nicest you’d ever been in. It seemed to have all of the accouterments a person could ever want. Certainly more than they could ever need. If you weren’t here against your will you’d ask about them or absentmindedly press buttons. Instead, you kept your purse clutched tightly in your arms and kept your face passive. You decided to keep quiet until Lloyd said something, trying to “behave” as he put it. The way he occasionally looked over your body, openly ogling you, had you very uncomfortable. 

He pulls up to an impossibly ritzy hotel and turns off the car. He immediately jumps out and opens your door for you before tossing the keys to the valet. 

“Come along, Pumpkin,” Lloyd snaps his fingers. You step out of the car and he puts his arm around you before walking you into the hotel. You try not to wince at the touch. 

 He walks you to the elevator and, when it’s just the two of you, his hand starts wandering down towards your ass. When it gets too low for your liking you grunted, “don’t. Just don’t.” 

His hand stops but his annoying grin grows into a full smile, “oooh, there it is,” he whispers into your ear. “That tone just does something for me. I’m sure you can figure out what that something is.” You can’t stop your eyes from glancing down and, in truth, he does appear to be hard. You don’t hold back your scoff and eye roll but it only seems to excite him more. 

The elevator doors open to reveal the largest hotel suite you’ve ever seen. The opulence was almost overwhelming. If it weren’t for Lloyd’s very strong arm pushing you forward you would’ve been too scared of breaking something expensive to move. 

He gestures you towards a couch, “have a seat and relax, Pumpkin. Take off that cardigan and let me get a better look at the ladies.”

“No,” you snap. “I’m not that kind of girl. I want to just go home.”

“Oh, Sunshine,” he purrs as he walks over to a drink cart. “You lost the right to go home the second I heard you at Ran’s.”

“What do you mean,” you inquire. “We were the only people there.” You have to be careful to not reveal you knew someone was listening.

“Yes, you were, but I’ve had Ran’s place bugged for a couple weeks now,” he cheerfully starts making himself a drink. “My comms guy told me someone was giving Ran a visit so I asked him to patch me through and let me listen. You only argued for about thirty seconds but it was enough for me to know I had to have a few rounds with you.”

“If thirty seconds is your definition of “enough” I’m definitely not interested.”

He laughs at your response and moves to sit next to you, bringing his drink with him, “fuck I love that sass. And that smack you gave him? I was so hard after I had to jerk myself off before meeting you.” You don’t hold back your grimace at the image. He scoots closer to you and you try to scoot away but he grabs your arm, gripping hard enough you’re sure there’ll be bruises. “Be a good girl,” he whispers. “You got Ransom, the most picky, skinny-bitch loving person I’d ever known, to beg after you. I gotta know how good of a fuck you are.”

“I didn’t chase him, he chased me,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “He’s just another asshole who wants what he can’t have. Who can’t have anyone in his life who doesn’t want him. That’s all. It’s got nothing to do with my nonexistent skills in bed.”

“Hmm…” he looks you over. “He seemed to enjoy how you worshiped his cock. And really, what more could a guy want? You worship mine half as good as you did his and I’ll make sure to reward you.”

“Bullshit,” you give him more of that attitude he seems to enjoy. Maybe you can distract him long enough to figure out a way out of this. “You’ll probably just fuck my mouth, last thirty seconds and send me home without even the courtesy of a breath mint. You’re just like all the other assholes I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Pumpkin. I’m much more dangerous and wealthy than any other asshole you’ve met. Behave, you’ll only have to know about the wealth. Keep fighting me and you’ll learn why I’m so feared.” The pain from him squeezing your arm is growing. You have to switch tactics.

“Wait,” you give Lloyd your best “I’m confused” look. “I thought you said you were into the sass. I’m getting some mixed signals here.” Lloyd pauses at the abrupt change in your demeanor and the grip on your arm relaxes a little. “I mean, if you want the doe-eyed, obedient fucktoy you should’ve said so from the beginning. But you kept talking about enjoying my sharper tones and retorts. Do you even know what you want?”

“I…uh..” Lloyd stutters. 

Not wanting him to get his bearings you continue, “I mean, Hugh wanted the whole female dominant experience. He wanted the degradation and spankings. Is that not what you wanted as well? Or…wait, wait, were you after the whole “dominating the dom” thing? You need to tell me this shit upfront! Also I need your safeword. Mine is “Asimov,” don’t ask why, it’s way too long a story and Hugh didn’t pay enough for a long session.”

“He said you were his assistant.”

“That’s the cover story, yes,” as careful as you need to be, you need everything to sound natural. Plausible, even. “Word gets out that someone with his reputation buys his ladies? He’ll plummet in the social circles. Especially with some of the older ladies he schmoozes, you know? So he tells people we’re his assistants, emphasis on the “ass” of course.” You wink and give your most sensual smile to Lloyd. You’re not sure if you’re passing but he’s stopped crushing your arm and has backed off a little. “Hugh said you liked the bigger girls, like myself, so we set up a kind of introduction for you. Let you decide if you actually wanted me. Considering the things you’ve said, I’d say you’re into me.” 

With a confidence you don’t actually have you grab Lloyd’s drink out of his hand and take a swig. It burns a lot, but you fight the urge to wince and instead give him a smile. 

Lloyd throws his head back and laughs, “oh, Pumpkin. I’m gonna make you my fucking queen.”

You raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“Not going to get into the details, but if you suck my dick as good as you act, I’m gonna keep you. You really had me believing you were a sassy secretary. Fuck, you really got me good. Not many people can claim that.” You bat your eyes and he continues, “let me give all your holes a test run and, if you do well, I’m gonna keep you. Let you live a life of luxury. No work, no other men, just my queen in my castle.”

“You may be overselling yourself, Lloyd.”

“You would know a bit about that, wouldn’t you,” he winks back at you and you fight the urge to vomit.

A ding from the elevator thankfully takes Lloyd’s attention. A tall, lean man with blond hair steps out, “Mr. Hansen, I do apologize for the intrusion. You weren’t answering your phone.” You’re surprised at the British accent.

“This better be good, Pine,” Lloyd barks.

“You asked to be reminded of your 2:30 meeting with Mr. Rumlow.”

Lloyd checks his watch and curses under his breath. “Alright, alright. I’ve been reminded, you can go now.” 

Pine slightly bows and heads back to the elevator while Lloyd moves closer to you than he’s been this entire time. He grabs the back of your neck and threatens, “if you leave, I will hunt you down and you will not enjoy what happens when I find you.”

“I understand, Lloyd.”

“Good girl,” he whispers before standing up and heading to the elevator. You stay seated, face down, waiting for the telltale sounds of the elevator leaving before you let yourself fully succumb to the stress of the day and pass out, exhausted in so many ways.

Part 6 -- Part 8

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would. 

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@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling 

@veltana

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Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[hogans-heroes]

I still feel like this is the most vulnerable we’ve ever seen Bucky’s face, he stares at Gale just before they try to escape and they share this look before Gale leaves and there’s so much going on around them but Bucky’s face is so raw like we don’t see anywhere else in the show. Maybe partially the thought that this is it, they could die in the next few seconds. There’s so much he’s thinking and wanting to say but he can’t, probably can’t even express it if he tried but he’s feeling so much. I’m getting so many emotions just looking at him looking at Gale.