#this turned into half a novel I apologize I got carried away

[whentommymetalfie]

Hi! I love your works and reread them regularly for comfort 🥹. After reading your Luca/Alfie/Tommy fic I wondered what your take is on the relationship between Luca and Alfie. Are they a happy threesome or are Luca and Alfie just in it for Tommy?

Nothing greater to hear than this ❤️ I'm so happy they bring yo comfort. And thank you for your question and for giving me an excuse to ramble (this answer turned out incredibly long, bear with me). So, thoughts, which apparently I had many of:

Luca sees Tommy for the first time, and it's like being hit by a freight train. He's never wanted someone more in his life. And on his end, Tommy can't deny there's a spark. In this scenario, I'm imagining that Tommy and Alfie have had this sort of flirtatious, will-they-won't they-thing going on. Plenty of tension and times in Alfie's office when something's nearly happened, but not quite. But Alfie definitely feels that he's got the bigger claim on Tommy (who belongs to no-one, thank you very much. Which is a lie he can tell himself all he likes). So when Luca comes into the picture, it starts off more as sharing. Every other night with each of them. But perhaps one evening when they're all three in the same place, and there's been some alcohol involved, they somehow end up in bed together. (Whose idea was it? That is up for discussion) And, as it turns out, it's beyond satisfying for all parties involved. Tommy doesn't make it out of bed the next day but that's a price he gladly pays, which says a lot. And after that, it happens more often than not.

At first, Alfie and Luca just begrudgingly accept each other, both reasoning along the lines of fine, he can 'live with it, it's just sex, not like has to spend eons of time with this strange man/fucking wop.' It's a price they're willing to pay for Tommy's satisfaction.

Tommy rolls his eyes at their bickering.

The thing is, slowly, this 'arrangement' evolves to something more than just sex (because Luca is a hopeless romantic, deep down. Which happens to be true for Alfie as well, even if he'd deny it under threat of death). And Tommy is not only completely hooked on the sex, but on all the attention and care during and afterwards (but that's not something he'll admit out loud). So it becomes a regular thing, meetings ending up in various hotel rooms -fancy ones, because Luca and Alfie compete in many things, the fanciness of hotel rooms just being one of them.

Then, at some point, Alfie ups the ante by suggesting they meet at his house -nothing like the advantage of home-court- and is quite surprised when Luca accepts (joke's on him, Luca would accept anything if it involves Tommy). All three deny this is a big step towards... well, something.

They still only barely accept each other, Alfie and Luca. Fine, Alfie will admit that Luca is not entirely repulsive. He can accept sharing a bed with him. And fine, Luca is man enough to admit that Alfie's got a certain rugged attractiveness about him, entirely different from Tommy's, but it's... acceptable.

And then, the 'meetings' start spilling over into the next day. Alfie gets up in the morning to make breakfast, for Tommy obviously, but fine, since Luca is there as well, he can have a cup of tea. And some toast, because the bread's just there, isn't it?

And then Luca, when he buys Tommy flowers, or a work by some poet he knows he likes, picks up a book for Alfie, since he was at the bookstore anyway and doesn't Alfie like that absolutely dreadful Irish author? The book just ends up coming with him on its own accord.

And they do find common ground in the fact that they both care for Tommy, and admittedly don't just want to fuck him. Both want to keep him safe, want him to be happy. And both think he's entirely terrible at taking care of himself, so it's up to them to do it for him.

Perhaps one morning, Alfie wakes up after Luca, which is unusual. And before Tommy, even more unusual. After lounging around in bed for a bit, nose buried in Tommy's hair, listening to his steady breathing and watching those long, dark eyelashes flutter ever so slightly, he gets up, gets dressed and goes downstairs. Surprised to find Luca in his kitchen, cooking breakfast, with a pot of tea already on the table, along with the paper. And Alfie also finds that the sight is... not entirely unpleasant. Mutters something incoherent and goes to pour himself a cup of tea, slumping down on one of the chairs by the kitchen table. Hiding behind the paper. Luca sets down a portion of perfectly scrambled eggs and toast before him. Seats himself across from him by the table, long legs stretched in front of him. Without a second thought puts one of his bare feet up to rest on Alfie's knee. Alfie puts a hand around his ankle. Mutters something again. Perhaps about Tommy still being asleep. Looked so precious he didn't want to wake him up, and besides, he could use the rest. Luca hums in agreement.

And neither of them want to admit that this, whatever this is, definitely goes beyond 'begrudging acceptance'

(I also have this half-formed little idea of something happening to Tommy, landing him In hospital where they need to perform an emergency surgery. Alfie finds out about it and gets there first. Luca comes rushing an hour later, unusually disheveled and with a wild look in his eyes. The fact that Alfie is oddly quiet only scares him further, and as they sit there waiting for any news about Tommy, Luca moves a tiny bit closer until their arms brush. And Alfie might run a finger lightly across his knuckles... Many thoughts are had...)

[stardusksx]

BECAUSE OF YOU, spencer reid x named!oc

— part three.

( summary! ) Spencer & Lydia where best friends, until they weren’t. Having to see each other at work everyday was certainly an exercise in professionalism, but when Reid is arrested in Mexico they can no longer ignore each other.

( warnings! ) Canon typical violence, discussions of drug use, best friends to lovers with a whole load of angst in the middle, dysfunctional family dynamics, talks of past neglect, future mentions of sex/smut, let me know if I missed anything! )

Virginia, 2006.

LYDIA’S PAPER CUP BURNED THE PALMS OF HER HANDS, A SLIGHTLY WELCOMED SENSATION AGAINST THE COLD THAT WAS NUMBING HER FINGERTIPS. The actual coffee itself was only lukewarm at best now— a result of her stupid alarm clock once again running out of batteries and failing to wake her up. Spencer knocking on her door was what had finally brought her out of her slumber, and when she’d answered it with a bed head that clearly said she wasn’t work ready, he’d merely offered her an amused smile and told her to meet him outside the station while he got the drinks. A saint, really. 

She’d only known him about half a year now, the same amount of time she’d been at the BAU, and he'd been more than a life saver when it came to making her feel welcome. After his initial reservations, of course. It had taken her a moment to break past his introversion, but once she’d gotten him talking about War and Peace (which she had read, thank you very much) he hadn’t stopped since.

“Busy today.” He observed, throwing the words over his shoulder as they weaved through the morning rush hour of the tube station. There wasn’t enough room to walk side by side just yet, but he was carrying on their conversation anyway. 

Lydia snorted slightly, “You think it’s busy everyday.” 

“It is busy everyday.” He craned his neck to look at her, subsequently bumping into someone and stuttering an apology. She tried to hide her amusement. 

“Careful, it’s busy.” She teased, falling into step besides him as they started up the stairs. 

He sent her a halfhearted glare, which lived on his features for all of two seconds before he launched into the statistics of Virginia’s population and their work shift patterns. Even after months of being around him everyday, she still wasn’t over the awe of just how much information was packed into his head. They were halfway up the steps when a boy stopped them— more Spencer than her, because he said his name more like a fact than a question; “You’re Dr.Reid.” 

He didn’t look like he could be older than twenty, hands gripping the rucksack on his shoulder like a lifeline. He was timid, a soft spoken voice and flickering eyes. 

Spencer looked confused, “Do I… know you?” 

“N-no, I just know what you do.” 

Spencer’s brows furrowed further and, as he slowly dragged out an “okay?” while turning to leave, Lydia almost snorted at his awkward dismissal. Anyone else would question further, but he looked like he wanted to get out of the situation as fast as possible. The boy persisted, however, “Look, I saw you at George Town afew weeks ago, you gave a lecture on sexual sadism.” 

That seemed to ease Spencer, who gained a pleased expression at the mention of his academics. He nodded his head, giving a self-deprecating smile, “I’m not much of a public speaker.” 

“I-I don’t know, you seemed cool.” The boy's gaze flickered between him and the floor, and Lydia smiled quietly at the display. She knew validation like this meant a lot to Spencer. 

“You look a little young to go to George Town.” He said, no longer in a rush to get away. 

“I’m a junior at northwest high school.” 

“And you just go to lectures on anger exhortation for fun?” He said it half in jest, half in genuine approval. 

“I don’t have a lot of friends.” 

The expression on Spencer’s face once again threatened to elicit a laugh from Lydia. He asked, “So, you're interested in profiling?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I read a lot, true crime— like graphic novels, mostly. They’re all on, like, whether or not evil exists, nature vs. nurture. So I figured it’d be smart to hear it from an expert… So you said a lot of them kill prostitutes?” 

Lydia looked up from where she’d been studying her coffee cup in a feigned attempt to give them privacy. That was an oddly specific question. 

Spencer nodded, “Number one serial killer target, actually.” 

“Is that for sex or because they think they’re dirty and need to be punished?” His eye contact with Spencer lingered for a few more seconds, as if he was attempting to gauge the man's reaction to his words. Like a child who had stolen a cookie from the jar trying to see if their parents had picked up on it. 

A cold feeling washed over her, as if someone had injected shards of ice into her bloodstream. There was innocent curiosity, and then there was… well, the non-innocent kind. She could see Spencer register it too, because instead of responding he asked a question of his own, “Were you waiting here for me?” 

“What would it mean if they were stabbing someone and cutting off their hair?” 

Deflection. Lydia began to take mental notes— the colour of his hair, the clothes he was wearing, how dark circles rimmed his eyes. The boy was shifting on his feet, a clear sign of how anxious he was. Lydia couldn’t tell if it was because of the conversation or something else. 

She was willing to bet it was something else. 

“I’ve… I’ve never heard of a case like that,” Spencer was quick on his feet, somehow managing to shove aside his own anxiety about who was possibly standing before them, “Do you want to come to the BAU with me, maybe talk to some of my other team members?” 

He posed it as an innocent question, one academic merely helping out another. Lydia saw his true intention, and it seemed like the boy did too. He began to head back down the stairs, “I’ve got to get to school.” 

“Give me your name and your number and I’ll call you—” Spencer began to follow him, but he’d already disappeared into the crowd. He glanced at her helplessly, and she wordlessly nodded, a silent agreement to get to the BAU as quickly as possible. 

Spencer had tried to hastily sketch the boy, but after a minute of watching him struggle to get the eyes right Lydia had taken over. She’d done a sketch artist class for extra credit in college— her childhood interest in drawing making it an easy way to gain extra points. As they stepped off the elevator, JJ offered them a greeting which went unacknowledged. He questioned, “Who’s your contact in the DC police?”

“Victor Barnes,” She followed behind them, “Why, do you need me to speak to him?” 

Spencer didn’t respond, merely picked up the phone and asked for the man JJ had mentioned. Gideon walked towards them, noting their tense expressions. As Spencer spoke on the phone, she offered up a brief explanation, “This kid stopped Reid on our way to work, asking weird questions about the murder of prostitutes— specifically ones who were stabbed and had their hair cut.” 

Just as she finished explaining, Spencer asked if there were any recent murders matching that M.O. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “When was the most recent victim?” 

Dread filled her, any doubt that the boy at the station was just a teenager with slightly gruesome interests had now vanished. He finished up the phone call, “I’ll explain when I see you, I’ll meet you in a half hour.” 

“What’s going on?” Gideon’s arms folded over his dark dress shirt, his neutral voice veiling any concern. 

“I think we may have a serial killer,” He answered, brows furrowed, “And I think I just let him get away.” 

⭈

After a brief trip with Morgan and Emily to speak with some possible witnesses, afew girls managed to identify the sketch with someone they’d seen out a few times. Allegedly, the boy they’d seen at the station had been hanging around the streets but never actually engaged in any sexual activity with the prostitutes himself. He’d just watch, they’d said. 

In a way, she thought that it perhaps made him seem even more likely to have committed the crimes. After all, there wouldn’t be much gratification in just watching— there had to be some sort of act. Some sort of purpose behind going out of his way to observe sex workers. If he wasn’t engaging in actual sex with them, it could indicate a level of disgust, in turn, motivating the violence to kill. Yet, he was a teenaged boy, so they also couldn’t rule out the simple possibility that he was exploring his sexual desires through observation. 

Either way, the mere confirmation he’d been in the area of the killings wasn’t enough to declare him guilty, and it also hadn’t brought them much closer to uncovering his identity. When she’d arrived back at the BAU, she’d found Spencer and Garcia in her bat cave attempting to figure out that information. 

“This is impossible.” Spencer gave an exasperated sigh, and Lydia raised a brow at his clear display of frustration that normally wasn’t so easy to draw out. 

Garcia scoffed, “Says you.” 

“There’s nothing in the juvenile offender records.” He defended, his voice cracking slightly. 

“So you think like a high school kid.” 

He refuted, “I was twelve and I hadn’t been through puberty in high school.” 

“Okay,” Garcia blinked, “Reset. We think like a highschool student, you think like a profiler.” 

Lydia admitted slightly sheepishly, “I went to a private school from fourth grade to graduation, I’m not exactly the picture of an average highschool experience, either.” 

“Reset the reset, I think like a highschool student, you guys think like the profilers.” She waved a hand, “He said he was a junior, the first rule when speaking to an authority figure, lie and say you’re older. He’s probably… a sophomore.” 

Lydia nodded— she tended to stick to the rules in school, but the urge to break them had certainly crossed her mind more than once. Her obsession with proving herself grades wise had left little time for things like lying to authority figures, but she had a dorm mate who would tell her millions of stories about doing just that. 

“Okay…” Spencer said contemplatively, “He was wearing a coat that was lambs wool but it didn’t look vintage, it looked brand new, like it had been tailored to him. Which means money… which means….” 

“Private school,” Lydia said dryly, “Guess I’m back on the side of tapping into his mindset.” 

She placed a hand on the back of Garcia’s chair, thinking for a moment. She remembers an incident of meeting one of her Grandmother’s friend’s grandson’s— he’d been talking about the school he went to which was in the same state, but a different district. She hadn’t heard of it before. “He said he went to northwest high, it’s unlikely he’d know the name of a highschool if he didn’t at least attend another one close to the area of it.” 

Spencer nodded, “Pull up the district for northwest high, see if there are any private schools.” 

Gracia typed for a second before nodding, “Three.” 

They needed to narrow it down further. Spencer said, “What about ones that offer electives at George Town?” 

“One; Morton School.” 

He nodded, pleased, “Pull up the Sophomore class.” 

An array of teenage faces were displayed on the screen, and it only took a few moments of scrolling before a familiar one popped up, “Wait, wait. Stop.” 

Spencer pointed to a boy in the middle, and Garcia brought up his personal information, “Nathan Harris.” 

Spencer's mouth hung open like he couldn’t quite believe it, “We got him.” 

She offered him a relieved smile, “Let’s go tell Gideon.” 

⭈

Lydia stayed behind as a small team was sent out to bring Nathan in, and upon Gideon’s request, she was preparing to sit in on his psychological interview. 

“Is it a good idea? For me to be in there?” Lydia said apprehensively, “I just think he’d be far more comfortable without a woman present, I don’t think we’ll get much from him otherwise.” 

He gave her a knowing look, “Trust me on this. Plus, I need you to monitor his micro expression while I focus on talking to him. You might pick up on something I miss.”  

Lydia sent him a one of reluctant agreement, and he pushed open the door into the office Nathan was waiting in. There was already a bearded man in the corner, watching silently as the younger boy's eyes darted between him and the floor. His gaze flickered up to her and Gideon, and his anxiousness seemed to increase. 

“My names Gideon, this is agent Baylor,” He gestured to her as they took their seats, and she offered up a small smile to placate his nerves. It didn’t seem to work— which she anticipated. 

“You were with Dr.Reid at the station,” He said, “You’re friends?” 

Lydia nodded, “We are.” 

“So, he must trust you then?” 

She momentarily wondered what it was about Spencer that Nathan gravitated towards— yes, they were both timid in nature and appeared to have some shared academic interests, but Spencer clearly hadn’t shared in his darker fantasies. Why did he go to Spencer, specifically, for help? “I think he does,” She answered honestly, knowing he’d really been looking for the assurance that he could trust her too. It seemed to be enough to calm the boy slightly. “You’re okay with answering some questions for us?” 

He nodded, ducking into himself slightly. He couldn’t hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds at a time, and she ruled it out as an indicator of lying— it seemed to simply be a part of his mannerisms. Perhaps nervousness, too, but that was natural for any form of questioning whether guilty or not.  

“So, I don’t wet the bed or start fires…” 

Gideon’s mouth lifted up at the side humorously, “I see you’ve read Dr.Harris warning signs of psychopathy.” 

“Yeah… is that wrong?” 

“No, it’s healthy. You’re intellectually curious, you want to understand how you’re feeling.” Gideon’s voice was calming, assuring, “Tell me what worries you.” 

“Just been, um, thinking about stuff.” 

“About hurting women?” 

His eyes briefly flickered to Lydia, and he looked more uncomfortable with her now— like he’d forgotten about her connection to Spencer and she was back to being a complete stranger he couldn’t seem to humanise. Yet, strangely, he didn’t look like he held resentment towards her. More like shame. He looked back to Gideon as he admitted, “Yeah.” 

“Have you ever hurt anyone?” 

He glanced upwards, like he was recalling a memory, “I killed a bird once. I know that’s on the list, it’s one of the signs.” 

Gideon showed no sign of disgust, “Why did you kill the bird?” 

“Cause I was sad.” 

“How’d you feel afterwards?” 

His brows were woven, like he was fighting against it, “Better.” 

“Why?” 

He seems to struggle internally, “I don’t know. Cause it was dead and I was still alive.” 

Gideon nodded, “Is that why you want to hurt women? To feel better?” 

“I don’t know...” He whispered. 

“Have you ever seen a woman naked?” 

Lydia looked down at her notebook, making it look like she wasn’t paying too much attention to the conversation so that he felt less insecure about discussing it. There was a pause. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Gideon said, then added, “No offence.” 

The man in the corner of the room responded with a “Non taken.” She remained quiet, like she hadn’t heard Gideon speak, like she hadn’t been listening intently enough to hear him. She wrote things down to look busy. 

“Afew years ago at my moms med school, her students get cadavers.” 

She could see Gideon’s fingers moving against his brow in the corner of her eye, “So, how’d that make you feel?” 

“Good. Excited.” She chanced a glance up, and he trembled slightly, “It’s sick.” 

“Perfectly natural for a boy to feel excited if he sees a naked body, even a cadaver.” Gideon said dismissively, like it wasn’t something to worry about. 

“Yeah, but now that’s the only part that I think about.” 

Lydia’s pen paused over her paper for a brief second, then she went back to writing so he wouldn’t pick up on her change in demeanour. 

Gideon persevered, “Which part?” 

He swallowed, “Them being dead.” 

“So when you watch the prostitutes you don’t imagine having sex with them?” 

“No, I think about cutting them.” 

He was startlingly honest— it was making her believe in his innocence a little more, because despite the unlikely hood of all the evidence of an actual serial killer also happening to align with a lot of the impulses he was describing, it didn’t make sense for him to be so forthcoming with his mentality if he was guilty. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know… maybe to look inside. Or sometimes I think about feeling their blood in my hands and letting it flow through my fingers.” 

He was painting a vivid image, but it wasn’t exactly an unusual one for people with similar impulses to conjure up. Nathan was speaking with shame, an understanding that the things he craved was wrong. She wondered if it was the violence that did it, or if that was only a means to an end. Was it simply the fact of them being dead, of being completely malleable to his control, that he desired? 

“Does it ever make you climax just by thinking of that?” 

He didn’t directly answer, merely gave the smallest incline of his head, “I know I’m crazy.” 

Gideon didn’t blink, “Did I say that?” 

“No, but what do you call pictures in your head that you can’t make go away?” 

The silence lingered for afew seconds before Gideon gave his answer, then began to wrap up the interview with some more assuring words to Nathan. When they exited the office, the man gave her an exhausted look. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, “We’ll debrief it in afew minutes, I need a break.” 

Lydia nodded, a sigh dragging from her lips as she headed towards the desks, Spencer already perched against his and watching her like he had been waiting on her return this whole time. 

“What do you think?” His knuckles covered his mouth. 

“I don’t know,” She murmured, “It’s kind of fascinating… the impulses he’s talking about are consistent with a psychopathic state of mind but if he’s being genuine about the fear… that’s a guilty conscience. It’s a clear conflict. Being able to feign guilt isn’t unheard of, but at the same time… I’m struggling to see any tells which indicate he’s not being genuine.” 

Spencer was watching her with an almost hopeful expression, and she let out a small sigh, “There’s a lot we don’t understand about the human mind yet, it’s not black and white, we can’t apply the same theories to everyone so… it’s not impossible that he’d be able to still feel all these other human emotions that aren’t consistent with psychopathy. But… if he didn’t do this, didn’t kill all those people,” She shook her head with furrowed brows, “I think he will, eventually. Impulses like the ones he’s having, they aren’t quite. They’re loud and take over everything else. Even the conscience.” 

She could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His head ducked slightly, staring down at his hands in silence. Lydia watched him for a moment, observing his dejected state with furrowed brows.  

“Can I ask you something?” She said finally. 

He hummed, looking at her with an expression that attempted to appear impassive. The way he chewed on his lip, however, was a give away that he was anything but. 

“What is it about Nathan? What’s making you feel responsible for him?” She didn’t pose her question with any judgement, mere genuine curiosity. Over the last few months they’d been on a fair few cases together, and she’d never seen him so emotionally invested— especially with a supposed perpetrator. 

Spencer blinked, searching her features for a moment as if he was looking for any sign she would scrutinise him. When he didn’t seem to find any, he relented, “I remember what it was like being a kid and having a brain that worked a hundred miles ahead of everyone else. It was… scary. Lonely. I never had… I never had the kind of thoughts he’s talking about, but I feel like I understand him. And he wants help, I believe that. I believe that whatever it is that’s going on with him, he’s trying to fight it. Shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we help people who need it? Even if… you know…” 

“Of course we should,” She said softly, “And we are, you are. I bet no one’s shown him the level of empathy you have in a long time. Maybe not even ever. He’s been stuck in his head alone for god knows how long, and you’re giving him an outlet. Whatever happens here, whether we find out he did this or not, he’ll get the help that he needs. Gideon’s already talking to his mom about what sort of resources we can get involved for him.” 

Spencer said quietly, “I always struggle with that… the empathy side of the job.” 

“You’re doing fine at it now.” She offered him a reassuring smile, “Sometimes we can relate to things, and other times we can’t. I think that’s what makes a team work— some cases will resonate with one of us more than it will the rest, and while that person can provide empathy and personal insight, the rest of us can have a more detached and critical viewpoint. It helps us cover all bases.” 

He stared at her for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed from their hunched state. He looked back to his hands, nodding, before his gaze returned to her. “Thank you.” His quiet words were followed by that slightly awkward smile of his. 

⭈

Lydia spent the rest of her day at her desk, running over the profile and seeing if there was anything she could think of that could help to narrow it down. She managed a few more suggestions to Hotch before JJ did a press release, and it wasn’t long before the domino effect took place. With the inside knowledge of other women who had possibly come in contact with the killer, alongside a female politician who matched the identified characteristics with someone she knew, the team had apprehended the killer. 

It wasn’t Nathan, and thankfully, Gideon had arranged for him to get the treatment he needed. 

Lydia nudged Spencer’s foot with her own— it was after hours, and they were the only ones remaining in the bullpen. Hotch was situated in his office with paper work, Garcia still somewhere in the building. He was reclined in his chair, shoes against her desk, staring at the ceiling. “Hey,” She said, “You okay?” 

He hummed, “Yeah, just…” His brows weaved, “Long day.” 

She watched him quietly, “You worried about Nathan?” 

Spencer was silent for a moment before he nodded, “He’s just a kid, and he’s scared. I wish I could… help more.” 

“I think you helped him more today than anyone else has in a long time.” She sat up to look at him better, and he lowered his gaze from the ceiling to her, “You could have walked away from him earlier, and he would have been completely alone in all those thoughts he’s got going on. Because of you, he’s getting help. There’s going to be a whole support system around him now, and maybe he won’t feel better for a long time yet, but he’ll get there. You've done everything you could.” 

While it didn’t fully alleviate the tension from him, Spencer offered her a grateful smile. “I know, I just…” 

“I know.” She said empathetically. Even when you’ve done everything you possibly can, there will always be a side of you that wishes you could rewrite the very fabric of logic and reverse all the negatives that are still left lingering. But that wasn’t logical, and sometimes you just had to live with the anxieties until they didn’t feel so heavy anymore.  

“Come one,” She hit both of them with her scarf, “Us three, we’re hitting the town.” 

Lydia let out a snort, “The town?” 

“No offence Garcia, but I don’t think I’d make the best company right now.”

Spencer’s attempt at declining her offer went ignored— apparently it wasn’t an optional affair. “Oh, no. Up. Up. Do not make me hurt you.” 

Lydia didn’t try to hide her laughter as she swooped down to pick up her bag. Garcia couldn’t hurt a fly. Spencer reluctantly pulled his feet off of her desk, a small smile playing on his lips. No one could say no to Garcia. 

The three of them made their way out of the building— Garcia was insisting on driving, wanting to show off her new car she dubbed Esther. Spencer’s phone rang just as she opened her door. “What?” He spoke with a shaky voice, “Uh… stay— stay where you are, I’m calling an ambulance.” 

⭈

Spencer’s hands shook as he moved a towel between them, numbly attempting to clean away the blood stains. “Hey.” She said quietly, taking it from him to do it herself— he let her, brows furrowed while his gaze remained on the crimson stains. Lydia had always thought that the shade of blood was the most vivid colour in existence, demanding to be seen in the loudest of ways. It was a physical embodiment of the harshest emotions, like all bad things were tied to the sight of it. She didn't like that side of the job— not that anybody did, really, but her stomach for such sights hadn’t come easily. “You saved his life, you know? Paramedics said he wouldn’t have made it without you.” 

Spencer swallowed, “He wanted me to let him die.” 

“No,” She shook her head slightly, “He didn’t want to hurt people, and suicide is the only option he knew to make sure he didn’t. I don’t think Nathan wanted to die, Spencer, he wouldn’t have tried to get help if he did. I think the thoughts just became too much, and he needed a way to silence them that would be quick.” 

“What if… what if I’ve put more people at risk in the future?” 

“You haven’t, because he was wrong,” She said softly, “There are other options. They’ll give him the help he needs in hospital, and they won’t let him go until he’s no longer a danger to the public. You saved a life today, Spencer, but that doesn’t mean that you're now accountable for what he does with it.” 

He watched her for a moment, then nodded. His hands were as clean as they could get for now, and when he took the towel back so he could discard it, he offered her a tired but grateful smile. “Thank you.” 

She offered him a smile back, “Are you ready to go home? Morgan said he’d drop us off at our apartments.” 

He nodded tiredly, the weight of the last few days heavy on his shoulders. She nudged his shoulder slightly, hoping to give him something else to focus on so he didn’t fall back into the hurricane of thoughts in his head, “So, I finally managed to finish Star Trek.” 

His head snapped towards her, “What? But I’ve been trying to get you to watch it with me for weeks, I wanted to be able to point out how the—” 

Lydia listened to him talk, an amused smile on her features. The tail lights of Derek’s SUV flickered as he unlocked it, and they got in the back seat behind the older man and Garcia. There was a sense of belonging in moments like this, when the cases had wrapped up and they were riding the melancholy of making the streets that little bit safer. It settled something inside of her— the idea that she was finally gaining some sort of clarity over her own future. She could see herself doing this in the long run, and it was the clearest picture of what was to come she’d ever been able to have. 

It felt safe. Secure. Settled. She had been wanting that ever since she was eight years old, when she was ripped from the care of her father to live with her grandparents. 

Finally, she was getting there. 

[incrediblemirai]

Fanfic - Don't Watch Me Die

I wrote this a year ago for the Bad Things Happen Bingo, Public Execution/Torture prompt.

Danganronpa V3 spoilers

Summary: Monokuma decides to change the execution for the third trial. Shuichi suffers deepy.

Trigger warnings: Graphic gore, gun violence, suicide/suicidal ideation, psychological horror, trauma, sexual abuse mentioned, incest, vomiting. This is very dark. It is not an easy read.

Fic under read more

Korekiyo could never forget where they were. He spent half his life outside, walking around the world in field studies, looking up at the beautiful sky. Beautiful in all its imperfections, the irregular clouds crossing it, the way it would shine gray and blue and white. This sky here was fake, too blue, the clouds too regular, the night sky full of fake constellations too well placed. 

It was unbearable. The lies. The untruth of it all. Being trapped in a real place would feel better. Still, some things made being here better. Perhaps passable. Acceptable, for now, knowing he could leave someday. And these things were precisely two (he noted in one his many unfinished notes). One, his lab, with all its amazing artifacts and books, the smell of history that despite everything was real. Two, Shuichi. Shuichi didn’t have a classification, the way one would put on a government form. Circle one: friend, colleague, acquaintance, lover, other. If he had one, it would be other, though Korekiyo wouldn’t choose something as vague and unexplanatory as that. 

Today, he was laying on the soft grass with Shuichi, reading books they chose from the library. After Rantaro’s death, the library was filled with a silent, palpable dread - to most people. Korekiyo didn’t particularly care, but Shuichi seemed uncomfortable and couldn’t stop looking at the stain seeping into the floor, so they left. They took the books outside, leaning against a tree in the courtyard. His book was fascinating, but alas, he was uncharacteristically distracted (yet characteristically self-aware). He could sense Shuichi next to him, hyper aware of everything about him, the way he sat so close their shoulders touched when he turned the page, to how he smiled at his novel (an embarrassing romance novel that he would never actually admit to liking, because he was easily embarrassed like that), to how he was breathing. 

It wasn’t unusual for him to stare, he reassured himself. He was an anthropologist after all, it was right for him to observe others. Right, and normal, and not disobeying any rules. Shuichi bit down on his lip as he read (maybe it was a romantic scene?). If he asked, Shuichi would kiss him with those lips. He was sure of this, Shuichi had told him himself last week, his face red with want and embarrassment as he took Korekiyo’s hand and asked to kiss him, half-whispering, his eyes shining. 

He had to say no, of course, because he had Sister, but for a moment he let himself imagine what would happen if he said yes. Shuichi would kiss softly, but with a passion behind it, the quiet fire that shone out of him, the one that made Korekiyo look, ah maybe he stared too much? Maybe it wouldn’t be soft, maybe he would kiss hard, his hands running through Korekiyo’s hair, kissing until he forgot he had ever kissed anyone else, until the world and the past disappeared.

“Are you alright?” Shuichi asked, bringing Korekiyo’s mind out of the maze he had gotten lost in, turning to face him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Ah, I got carried away daydreaming. I apologize,” he responded, swiftly turning back to his own book. He shouldn’t have thought that, he got carried away, it was wrong, a mistake… Sister would be angry. 

“So, what’s your book about?” Avoidance is the best way to suppress awry thoughts . Shuichi closed the book, hiding the cover against his chest. 

“Uh, Sherlock Holmes.” An obvious, terrible lie. Sherlock Holmes would not be impressed.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of reading romance books. It’s normal to want such things, isn’t it? Love, affection, comfort… pleasure.” It was sweet, watching Shuichi blush. “And I hope you know by now I don’t judge.” 

“You do judge. I see the way you look at Kaito.” Shuichi said pointedly, but he was smiling. 

“He deserves it.” 

“Hey, no fighting.” He poked him in the arm, in Shuichi’s charming awkward way, unsure if this touch was okay. Korekiyo himself wasn’t sure whether it was okay. 

It was difficult to stop thinking. He had always been like that, mind running a hundred miles an hour underneath the carefully crafted cold exterior. A statue, hands carved together in prayer, no expression on its face. Now he was thinking too much, letting himself get carried away. Sister had been enough, more than enough, his whole world and universe, and then came Shuichi, with his genuine interest in what he had to say, who wasn’t afraid of him, who truly enjoyed his company in a way no one else had. Shuichi who was gentle, who worried for him when he hurt, who wouldn’t hit him or yell at him or drag him to bed when he wished not to… though of course those actions were acceptable, they too were signs of love, it was understandable that Sister hit him. It was deserved. His heart fluttered, and his mind responded, soothing himself with well-rehearsed phrases.

Shuichi was a bad influence on him, making his mind tremble with uncertainty like this, tempting him , perhaps unknowingly, when he was happy with Sister.

He was happy.

Korekiyo’s bandaged hand just barely brushed the fingers of Shuichi’s right hand, enough for plausible deniability, teetering between platonic affection and something more that his Sister would not like to hear about, and maybe that was alright, since it didn’t really mean anything. Friends could touch hands. Acquaintances could touch hands.

I don’t believe you, Korekiyo. Don’t tell me you’re developing feelings for this little whore? Aren’t I good enough for you?

“Saihara, would you kill for someone you love?” He didn’t know he would speak until he was done saying it, left almost breathless, as if it was his admission of guilt. It silenced Sister for a moment. He was a bad brother for wanting to silence her, he knew that, but surely just one moment of silence could be forgiven? No, probably not. He’d deal with the consequences later. 

Shuichi turned to face him, looking concerned.

“Huh?”

“When Akamatsu was found guilty, everyone forgave her because she had good intentions. Would you kill, if you had a good reason?” He paused to take a breath. “The morality of a person is defined by many influences. Your family, friends, the media you consume… everyone is a unique patchwork of their own experiences that cannot be replicated. I want to hear what you think about it. ” If Shuichi noticed him tense up, he didn’t comment on it.    

Shuichi thought about it for a moment, mulling it over, biting his lip in concentration (he always did that when thinking – it was one of things that were charming when Shuichi did them that weren’t charming on anyone else).

“I don’t know if I could. I’d like to say I could do it to save someone’s life, but I don’t think I could actually force myself to do it.” He looked at his hands. “I can’t imagine the feeling of it. Knowing that someone died because of you. Watching their life drain away…” Suddenly, Korekiyo regretted bringing this up.

No one knew better than him that it wasn’t a good feeling.  

He remembered his first kill: standing in the victim’s bathroom, washing her blood off his hands with her lavender scented soap. She was a nice girl, studying nursing at a local university. He met her in a library, when she approached him with a question about the book he was reading and he could see in her face that she had no intention of listening to his answer. She was twenty, only a little younger than Sister, and he told her he was twenty too. 

She took him home that day,  took him to bed. Vaguely, he was aware this was illegal. What would she do, if she found his school ID, and realized he was fourteen? He closed his eyes and thought about Sister. It was her idea, to kill this woman, make her Sister’s friend. 

He turned the tap to hot, as if boiling water could cleanse the sins those hands committed. 

The mirror didn’t show his reflection when he looked at it, but Sister’s, her yellow eyes and lipsticked mouth, and he watched tears roll down her face. I’m very proud of you, Korekiyo , she whispered to him, her hushed voice wrapping thorns around his chest, making it hard to breathe, a feeling that belonged to her, that he felt only because he belonged to her.

“You’ve gone quiet. Are you alright?” Shuichi pulled him out of his memories, one of his thin fingers trailing across Korekiyo’s chest, half-soothing, half a plea for touch. Shuichi was a physical creature, seeking out touch, holding on hard onto every embrace. Maybe if it weren’t for Sister (blasphemy), he’d offer him all the touch he wanted, let him remove his mask, kiss him in the moonlight, let himself become his.

“Shall we switch topics? I realized this question was… rather uncomfortable,”

He’d leave you if he knew what you’ve done. He’d hate you. Imagine his face if he realized what a damaged little whore you really are, the kind of things you’re willing to do. That’s why we stay together, isn’t it? Because no one but me could ever love you.

The horror of the case had infected the room. The tall windows of the courtrooms created slivers of silver light that did nothing to alleviate the darkness that had settled into everyone. For a moment, Shuichi was hyper aware of everything around him. Kaito clenching his fists, Himiko’s pooling tears, Kokichi’s uncharacteristic seriousness, his own breathing, his pounding heart. They were all waiting for the inevitable, the moment Monokuma dragged off the blackened to his death.

There were ten of them there, the room filled with students, but Shuichi could only see Korekiyo. In an hour, he had fallen apart, his composure in pieces. After his last speech, he dropped to the floor, tears shining in his eyes, and now he was weeping loudly, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. 

The calm exterior had been ripped off, leaving an undignified mess, a raw, hurting creature. Before, he moved with purpose, every touch of the hand meant to convey an expression he couldn’t with his mouth behind the mask. Even now, his mannerisms were delicate, the way he wiped the tears out of his eyes, feminine and familiar, and Shuichi was struck by how this was the last time he’d ever see him like this, because every minute was the last, and he should have been relieved, and that he wasn’t.

His mask had become wet with tears, so he pulled it down to his chin, wiping the flowing tears off his cheeks, covering his mouth with his other hand. He hid his mouth like he wouldn’t exist if he showed himself.

Shuichi had learnt how to read Korekiyo’s eyes before (he knew even as it was happening that there would always be a before and after ) and now those golden eyes were full of fear and pain and Shuichi’s own eyes blurred with tears. Silver light shone onto Korekiyo from the window, making his pale skin glow, and for a moment he looked like a ghost, his bloodless face polished with tears and shining lipstick that was all wrong. 

It made him otherworldly. A shadowed ghost. 

Part of Shuichi wanted to rush over to him, offer some last comfort, selfishly wanting to be held just one more time, just one more memory to hold onto, one memory to cradle when he will lie in his cold bed alone tonight. However, his legs were rooted to the spot, and he didn’t dare move.

“What’s with the long faces? I thought you’d be excited this time.” Monokuma laughed, appearing out of nowhere with his Monokubs. “Don’t you all want this freak dead?” He walked up to Korekiyo and pulled his hair, making him whimper in pain. “He hurt your friends. He hurt many, many others.” 

“He’s our classmate. We won’t celebrate his death,” Maki said, voice hard as nails, and it was that which really broke Shuichi, the severe way she spoke, as if it was inevitable, something unchangeable. 

A broken sob escaped him, tears escaping his eyes, trailing down to his mouth, their salty taste a sick reminder that this was real, not a nightmare. Even after all he had heard, all these horrible truths, he kept seeing the person who had read with him, told him stories, smiled under the fake stars, who cried when Shuichi told him he cared for him ( I love you went unsaid, because Korekiyo had told him there was someone else, but he still sensed his thoughts and let it happen), who had climbed into his bed and turned off all the lights so he could kiss Shuichi without being seen with his mask down. 

He fell fast, and he always knew Korekiyo would break his heart, but he didn’t think it would hurt like this.

Monokuma grinned. “Does this make you sad, Saihara? Imagining your pretty boy toy dead? Knowing how he’s going to suffer terribly?” He refused to give Monokuma a response. He let the tears run down his face, looking down, avoiding everyone’s eyes. 

“You fell for the act hard, Shuichi. If you were a serial killer, wouldn’t you seduce the Ultimate Detective? He tried to save his ass and look where that got him.” Monokuma laughed horribly. 

The others never knew the two had something between them (something informal, not lovers, because Korekiyo wasn’t willing to call him his lover but let himself be loved, something undefined which could never satisfy Shuichi’s heart), because they wouldn’t understand, they didn’t like Korekiyo before this either. Everyone’s eyes weighed heavily on him, and without seeing their faces it was easy to imagine their judgment, their disgust.  

The silence stole all the air out of the room. How long had it been since the verdict was called? It felt like an eternity. It would be easier if Monokuma gave them a countdown, letting them know how much longer they had.  

Would Korekiyo forgive him if he turned away and didn’t look? Would he forgive himself? After what happened to Kirumi… how badly would he suffer?

A bandaged hand slipped a handkerchief into his own, and Shuichi looked up without even thinking. “Please take it.” Korekiyo’s voice trembled. It’s something to remember me by went unsaid. “I want you to know—” He couldn’t keep his voice stable anymore, letting it waver as he spoke, “it was never an act or a ploy.” 

Shuichi took the handkerchief, put it up to his eyes. “I really wanted to travel the world with you.” Shuichi’s chest ached, and he wanted this to over more than anything, and he wanted this moment to never end because what will be next will hurt more. His bandaged hand brought the handkerchief down to his cheek, stroking it with his thumb, and Shuichi put his own hand on top of his.

He had a hundred things he could say.

“I don’t want you to die,” he whispered, all the strength leaving him.

“You’ll be alright. You’re much stronger than you know.” He’s never felt this small, crushed by the weight of his own feelings, so fragile the wind might break him into pieces. “I do not mind if you do not want to watch.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Execution time!” Monotaro yelled out, and Shuichi clutched the Korekiyo’s hand so tight he must have left half-moon marks, marks that won’t even get the chance to fade.

Monokuma jumped out again, standing at his podium. “Y’know, I’ve thought about it. We’ve done the execution thing so many times now! Isn’t it getting boring?” And for a moment he saw hope in Korekiyo’s eyes, felt it in his own heart, a ray of light breaking through the night.

“Yeah, I’m practically falling asleep here!” Kokichi yelled, and Shuichi felt a rush of affection towards him. “Let’s keep this telenovela relationship drama going,”

“We’ll just make a jail to put him into. That’s still fun for you, isn’t it, Monokuma?” Maki asked.

“Pupupupu, now you’re getting ahead of yourselves! We can’t let the blackened go unpunished, that’s the rules of the game! I’m just proposing an… alternate punishment.” He laughed, a strangled cacophony, filled with malice and hate. “I’m giving you a choice. You can either let dear Korekiyo suffer a regular execution, or one of you can shoot him dead!”

Shuichi’s hopes shattered, cutting into him, shredding up his insides.

There was no way to save Korekiyo. It was torture, or being shot. The alternate punishment was just Monokuma throwing one last rock at Korekiyo, crushing his hope again.

Next to him, all Korekiyo did was let out a strangled gasp, and somehow it was the worst sound he’d ever heard.

Monokuma pulled out a box, and opened it to reveal a pistol. “It only has one bullet, so make it count!” He laughed maniacally again.

Silence spread over the room again, but it felt loud with everyone’s thoughts buzzing around. All eyes were on them now, but no one would say a word, waiting for Korekiyo to say something.

“Being shot would probably be less painful than what Monokuma is going to do,” Kaito said, and Shuichi hated him for it, hated him for saying out loud what everyone was thinking.

“Unless it’s a trick, and Monokuma’s execution would be better?” Keebo asked, static seeping through his voice.

“It’s unlikely,” Maki spoke, looking directly at Korekiyo. “I can do it. You know I won’t make a mistake.” Her words were strong, but there was sadness in her eyes. “I’m used to the feeling of killing someone anyway.” Her nonchalance was a lie, hanging heavy in the air.

Before Korekiyo could respond, Monokuma cut in. “That’s not how this works! You can’t just choose who gets to do it! It’s meant to be a punishment .” He picked up the gun, spinning it around for a moment, before walking up the students. With a wicked grin, he handed the gun to Shuichi. “You’ve hurt so many people with your actions. All those grieving families. Now here’s your final victim – the only person who actually cared about you. You get to ruin him too!”

The gun was heavy in his hand, cold as ice, and his heart stopped beating. The gun was wrong in his hand, he couldn’t, he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t – Korekiyo would suffer if he didn’t, Monokuma would torture him, tear him apart, make his final moments hell—

“Shuichi, I can’t do this to you. Please, just let Monokuma execute me. It will be easier.” Korekiyo gripped his shoulders, but even as he did his hands were shaking. Shuichi looked into his eyes, bright molten gold, and imagined them dull and lifeless, the passion they once exuded gone.

“I don’t want you to suffer,” he said, slowly, the horror of his own words seeping into him like poison.

The night Kaede was executed, Shuichi wept, after she died, and then in his bed all alone. Blankets swallowed him, entangling him. He was hot, and the tears made him sticky. The force of his sobs hurt his lungs. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her expression as she was pulled up, and hear the torturously peaceful notes of the song that she was forced to play as she died. The tears would never stop, he would never forget, the sorrow would never ebb.

Someone sat on his bed. A hand reached out to pet him through the blanket like a frightened animal.  

“I brought you some food. A full stomach will bring you some comfort.” Korekiyo’s voice was muffled by the blanket, but it couldn’t hide its rich tone that now sounded like refuge. The hand had found his back, rubbing it, the motion barely there through the thick fabric.

Shuichi slowly pulled off the blanket, sitting next to his friend. “One learns to live with grief over time. It does not fully disappear, but life becomes bearable,” he said, his gentleness underscored with a familiarity, as if he had felt this suffering before. Slowly, Shuichi turned to lean on his shoulder, a silent beg for healing touch.

“Have you lost someone important to you?” he whispers, as if it would hurt less if he said it quieter.

“Yes, someone very dear to me… but I came here for you, not to talk about myself. Let me ease your pain, if only for a little, Saihara,” he said, wrapping one hand around Shuichi’s waist, pulling him closer. “Let me take your pain away, at least a little.” Shuichi closed his eyes and let himself relax against him, the other’s warmth melting the heaviness of his heart just a little, the pain easing if only for a moment.

“Let me take away your pain,” he said breathlessly.

This might kill him. He will never recover from this, never forgive himself, blood will stain his hands crimson until the day he dies.

“Shuichi, you don’t deserve to have this on your conscience. You won’t be able to forgive yourself,” he said, as if he had read his mind, because they knew each other, and maybe loving someone was just pain in disguise.

“I won’t be able to forgive myself either way. If I do it, I’ll hate myself for it, and if I don’t, I’ll hate myself for letting you suffer,” Shuichi’s voice broke. This punishment was not about letting them have hope and then taking it away – it was to force suffering, to create an impossible choice that would break him. Cooperation is our downfall . “I want to do what is least painful for you, even if really hurts,”

Korekiyo seemed to struggle for words, letting out half formed words he couldn’t make sense of. It was Shuichi’s job, after all, to render the blackened speechless. To win his argument.

He felt hollow, an empty vessel filled with pain and guilt and fear. What would be left of him, when the deed was done? He couldn’t imagine an after. He would never leave this room, never move on from what happened between these walls, the suffering they saw.

“If you kill me, I can never forgive myself for the suffering I have inflicted on you.,” Tthere was genuine devotion in his words. Tenderness. Proof that those nights spent together were true, that Korekiyo, who claimed he couldn’t love anyone but his sister, still had a space in his for Shuichi, that it was always real.

“It would be easier to hate you,” he said, caressing Korekiyo’s cheek, wiping his tears away. “But I can’t, so I just have to live with the pain of loving you.” His voice shook., “You won’t have to live with the pain,” —he inhaled— “so let me live knowing that I didn’t let you suffer.” He hesitated, looking away, his eyes falling on the gun in his grasp, focusing on its metallic shine. It felt like death in his hands. “I’ll aim well…” he whispered, his voice breaking, slipping into nothingness at the end. 

Korekiyo broke from his grasp, turning around to face Monokuma. “What if I don’t let him shoot me? What if someone else does it?” He said it forcefully, but it felt like a lie, like fear hidden by a voice slightly too loud. Even from where Shuichi stood, it was clear his hands were shaking. 

“Then that person is going to get executed instead of you!” Monokuma yelled, hands raised in anger. “Now get on with it!”

For a few seconds, the world stood still. Slowly, Korekiyo turned back to him. Defeat clouded his tawny eyes, and Shuichi knew .

 “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry,” he said hoarsely. Ice filled his lungs, leaving him numb. Tears blurred the world, running into his mouth, suffocating him. 

“I’m so sorry.” There were no words for how he felt, the regret, the guilt, so he kept saying sorry. A weak, useless phrase that was never going to be enough. A bandaged hand took his empty hand, intertwining their fingers, a last little bit of warmth before Shuichi’s heart freezes and shatters on the floor. “Don’t apologize, please.”

“You wanted me to—”

“It’s all over for me now,”  —he squeezed his hand harder— “so take care of yourself.” Finality rang through his voice. It’s the last of everything. Last words .

Korekiyo motioned him to close his eyes, and so he took one last look at someone he had loved. In the darkness, he felt a bandaged hand hold the hand with a gun in it, forcing the gun in the proper position. In a few seconds, his hand will be lifted to his head, and he will pull the trigger. I’m sorry .

He lifted his hand slowly. Then, Korekiyo pulled his hand hard, tearing the gun out of it.

He heard the gunshot before he could open his eyes. The recoil knocked him backwards, his ringing ears barely hearing the sound of a body falling, liquid splattering on the ground, on him. Maki grabbed him, one hand over his eyes, pulling him away, trying to turn him around, and she was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her over the sounds of his screams (when had he begun screaming?)

“It’s okay, you’re okay now. Stop crying,” Maki said, pulling at him. Kaito grabbed at him, trying to calm his flailing hands. Horror reverberated through the room, and he needed to see, he had to say goodbye or he could never leave this place in peace.

“Let go,” he hiccuped, “I want to see.” 

By now, his two friends held him in place, but he fought, trying to fling himself out of their grasp.

“Shuichi. Don’t let the way he died spoil your memories of him. Remember as he was when he was alive.” Maki’s voice was confirmation of what he already knew.

“No…” His voice wobbled. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. “I don’t believe you, he can’t be—” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the last word stuck in his throat. Maki didn’t respond. 

How much longer could they keep holding onto him? It felt like an eternity had passed. “If we still have him, we should at least” —he paused to breathe, inhaling raspily— “bury him. It’s only right,”

“Shuichi, he wanted you to close your eyes so you wouldn’t watch him die. Don’t waste his consideration.” Gentleness seeped through her voice, and it stilled him a little. The ringing in his ears was subsiding. Energy drained out of him, leaving him limp, until he collapsed on the floor, still held by Maki. Even now, he was painfully aware of Kiyo lying not so far from him. Before, he could always feel him in a room, his passion making him shine. That passion left his eyes now, expression growing cold, the warmth he exuded gone. He closed his eyes willingly.

They stayed closed until he felt the cold outside air hit his skin. Gonta carried him back to his room, because they all knew he’d never get off the floor otherwise. He’d be ashamed of it later, he knew, but now the pain numbed all other feelings. At least his ears had stopped ringing.

Looking into the bathroom mirror was a horror of its own. Crimson stained his clothes, tear shaped splatters staining his uniform, more concentrated around the top of his jacket. Tear shaped drops spread out over a wide area. Characteristic of a gunshot wound at close range. 

He hated his talent. And maybe himself.

In the shower, he washed off someone else’s blood. That blood came from his head. How could he have looked after? There must have been a lot of blood. Is the phrase blowing your brain out accurate? Maybe his skull was blown to pieces, leaving him unrecognizable. The long hair that he could see from across the room, partially covered by his hat. Golden eyes. What was left? Maki and Kaito didn’t let him see, so it must have been horrible. Sickeningly, he imagined a pool of blood, brains scattered on the floor—-

Shuichi jumped out of the shower and threw up in the toilet. The red spaghetti they had for lunch came back out looking like intestines.

Before he put his uniform in the laundry (he would never wear it again, no matter how well it was washed. He would always see the blood), he pulled out the handkerchief. It was white, with red embroidery around the corners. A little heart. It looked self-made, the stitches a little crooked, white showing through spaces in the heart. He wondered when Korekiyo had gotten it, if it was something he bought on his travels, if he had it at home and embroidered it for practice. If it was a gift. Those long fingers would surely be well suited to embroidery.

Dressed in his pajamas, he climbed into bed, holding the handkerchief in his fist, curling up on himself and putting the handkerchief to his face. 

Sleep would mean nightmares.

Before, a nightmare could easily be forgotten. He’d stand outside of Korekiyo’s door and ring the bell and soon he’d be lying in his bed soothed by gentle whispers and kind hands running through his hair.

That would never happen again.

The clock beside his bed read 10:42 PM. Normally, he’d be training with Kaito and Maki, but he hoped that they understood that he couldn’t today. In a desperate attempt to run away from his own thoughts, he watched the clock intensely, waiting for the minutes to change. 

When he closed his eyes, the gunshot boomed in his head, blood splattering him anew. The memories of today were on the brink of teetering into his consciousness, buzzing around his brain like flies. In a desperate attempt to calm himself enough to sleep, his mind flitted between thoughts, lovely memories from before today, random things he had learnt at the school. Eventually, he even began recounting evidence from earlier trials, listing them. Still, these distractions were as weak as tissue paper, nothing but pathetic distractions from the memories he kept at bay. 

Then, the world went dark, and within a moment his eyes were open again, fresh anxiety coursing through his veins, his heart beating like a jackhammer. The clock now read 11:02 PM. 

He couldn’t handle a night of this. 

A dangerous, enticing thought creeped into his mind.

He couldn’t go to Korekiyo, but he could go to his room.

He sat up on his bed, sliding his feet into his slippers. Cold air struck him as he left the safety of his blanket.Shivering, he walked out of his room, quiet as possible to avoid anyone seeing him. Still, he paused at the doorknob, but only for a moment, before opening the door. 

Korekiyo would understand. 

It was even colder inside the room, with no warm body to heat it. The cold had never bothered him before, because it was easily rectified with a little touch, or if he was really cold, he would take the blanket off the bed and sit around like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Korekiyo always found that amusing. His uniform kept him warm enough. 

The room was the same as he left it. The bed was neatly made, while every other surface in the room was covered in notes, books taken from his lab, pens strewn around randomly, sticky notes with last minute notes that were tacked onto papers randomly. He stood next to the desk, looking at the pages of messy scrawl, observations about the school, the students. Touching the items would be a trespass, damage, the room turned irrevocably precious by its owner’s death. 

Korekiyo spent his life studying such items, finding the remains of people lost, trying to figure out how they lived, imagining what they thought. Now, Shuichi stood there, picturing Korekiyo sitting on the very chair he was sitting in now, scribbling notes, his thoughts running faster than he could write. His eyes lit up when he talked about anthropology, passion exuded with every breathless word. He spoke of it as if he had never spoken before, as if every listener was a rare opportunity. Maybe it was so, and he remembered how Korekiyo stood in the background whenever they were together, alone, observing. Lonely.

He wouldn’t let all this work go to waste. When they left, he would take these with them, give them to a university or some journal. So there was always some part of him left, other than memories. Something good.

The closet held nothing but the many exact copies of his uniform. He stroked the thick material of the jacket, feeling its ridges. For Korekiyo, it was the ultimate symbol of his sister’s love. Before today, he thought that was sweet, but now it seemed sickening, how she dressed him up to be a soldier. 

Still, he couldn’t imagine Korekiyo without this uniform, and touching it only reminded him of all the time spent with him. The starched material stiff was on his cheek when he had leaned on Korekiyo’s shoulder, the buttons he had hurriedly undone with his own hands in the warmth of his bed…

The room was so cold. 

Deftly, he slid one jacket of its velvet hanger, pulling the jacket over himself. It was too wide in the shoulders, and too long, the cuffs covering even the tips of his fingers, fitted for someone taller. 

Slowly, he warmed up. 

His bathroom was much neater than Shuichi’s own. A cologne bottle decorated the shelf above the sink, golden brown, the source of the smell that had become so familiar to Shuichi, a mix of sandalwood and musk and bergamot. He picked up the bottle, holding it in the palm of his hand, the fragility of it accentuated by the heavy weight of memories it held, the truth that it had become a relic of a bygone era. 

The scent forced him to remember the long days spent together, scribbling notes side by side, listening to stories, lying together in bed, running away from the killing game that ensnared them through the comfort of each other’s bodies. Then, a sharp memory threatened to burst the comfort that had settled around his heart, a memory of today, and he quickly put down the bottle. 

Or… maybe it would be alright to take it with him. Korekiyo would understand. But he would leave it till the morning. Subconsciously, he had already made up his mind to not leave this room tonight, to grieve in another bed, to sleep comforted by sheets that now had no one to claim them.

The lipstick tube next to the bottle caught his eye. It was quite small in actuality, the length of a finger, unassuming, unaware of what it symbolized, what horrors its owner made it do. He opened the tube, feeling dirty for it. The lipstick itself was painfully ordinary, a dark red bullet, curved by months of use. Deft hands had picked it up, spreading pigment around their owner’s open-mouthed pout, a horrible secret masked as a beauty ritual.

Disgust spread through him, toxic mold that suffocated his lungs, tore apart his heart and mind.

Yet he had loved those lips.

He lifted the lipstick to his mouth, letting the pigment rub on his lips, his hand shaking. It felt strange, the wax coating his mouth.

He couldn’t recognize the stranger in the mirror, with Shuichi’s hair and eyes and certainly someone else’s mouth. Did Korekiyo feel that way too, that he had lost himself in the mimicry of his sister? That person who he knew… did he even know he never existed?

The lipstick tasted like vanilla, a sweet taste that was dreadfully wrong for this horror. The burst of pleasantness brought Shuichi back to his senses. Quickly, he pawed for the tap, trying to rub the lipstick off with water. It wouldn’t come off cleanly, leaving him looking red around the mouth.

He couldn’t do this. Take his jacket, cologne, lipstick, turn himself into him , hide in his skin to avoid this grief, not feel. He wasn’t going to be Korekiyo, who held on so tight he shattered. Sister had scooped out everything that made him him , and grief had broken him apart and gutted him until he was nothing but cracked remnants of a person held together by suffering and pain.

I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner.

He put the bottle back. The jacket too. He looked at the room one last time. The notes that would be the last thing Korekiyo had ever created. And he knew that in fifty years, he wasn’t going to be known for his contributions to anthropology. A case for criminology students. For psychiatrists. Maybe Shuichi was the only person who ever saw good in him. He turned off the light and left. It wasn’t the last time he ever saw that room. No, as the days went on he would return, filled with sadness, or rage, or both, with love and hate and shame. And it would get easier, slowly, after a while, and one day everything they were would be nothing but a memory, Korekiyo stuck as an eternal tortured sixteen year old. But that was far away, and today Schuichi crawled back into his own bed, clutching his sheets like they were a lifetime, and tried to sleep.

@badthingshappenbingo

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

[cerebrumrott]

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers x MC

Synopsis: MC's surprise return home

Lucifer

He had noticed the odd looks Diavolo had been giving him the entire week before. Each time he had questioned him on it he would get odd evasive responses and giggling.

While he would have loved to interrogate him further, His day had been difficult enough as is with Mammon’s latest disaster.

Getting home he went straight for his office needing at least an hour away from his brothers even if that meant it would be spent doing paperwork.

Lucifer fumbled with the buttons on his school jacket with one hand while opening the door to his office with the other. Stepping inside he didn't bother to look up as he tossed his jacket onto the back of a nearby chair before heading over to his shelf and pouring himself a drink. He was half way through uncorking a bottle when he heard someone cough behind him.

Looking at his desk, you sat atop it with an unamused frown on your face as you stared at him clearing having been there this entire time seeing you were cross legged and leaning your chin into your hand.

“I come all this way to surprise you and you go straight for the-'' You don't have time to finish your sentence as he has already crossed the room and is dragging you to your feet in a spine crackingly tight hug.

You both stood there for what felt like forever just holding each other as he buried his face into your shoulder feeling the stress slowly leaving him.

He had planned on doing his paperwork for the rest of the night but now there was something else he would much rather do.

Mammon

Ever since you had returned back to the human world he had done nothing but pout waiting for you to come home. And yes he meant Home no matter how many times Lucifer tried to correct him your home was here in the House of Lamentation not in some stupid human world where he couldnt even see you.

He called you every night before bed but it still wasn’t the same… So caught up in his own pouting he didn’t notice the looks his brothers gave him as he sat down for dinner.

He was filling his plate trying to grab his favorite before Beel took everything when he swore he felt something brush against his leg under the table. He scratched at his shin with his heel not thinking much of it until something grabbed hold of both of his ankles and yanked him from his chair, pulling him under the table.

Mammon would vehemently deny that he screamed but he let out a high pitched squeal as he was dragged under the table to the sounds of his brothers wheezing laughter.

Struggling and kicking out Mammon soon found the source of his panic was just you pulling a prank on him.

Mammon can’t get any of his words out as he just tackles you to the floor crushing you in a tight hug only slightly furious at your ridiculous way of announcing you have returned.

He wouldn’t let you go so you had to eat dinner on the floor under the table…

Leviathan

Even after you went back to the human world you both still played games and watched movies only now it was through the internet. He would often talk to you late into the night until one of your would fall asleep or your call would disconnect on its own.

Before you left he had been smart enough to snag one of your blankets and kept it in his bed tub with him sleeping with it each night. It ended up replacing his Ruri chan body pillow which had been banished to the other side of the room where he kept all the extra pillows and blankets from your movie nights together.

One day after RAD he rushed home to grab something to eat and then make a B-line to his room as you both had planned a gaming marathon together wanting help beating a level that had been bothering you for some time. In such a hurry to make it to his room, Levi didn’t even process the whispering between his brothers as they watched him scarf down a sandwich and some chips before grabbing an energy drink and retreating to his room.

It was dark when he entered, though this wasn't anything new to him as he just made his way straight to his desk and flopped down in his chair. Throwing his headphones on he wheeled forward only for his knees to bump into something under his desk.

Looking down confused, Leviathan let out a high pitched scream as he toppled backwards and was thrown out of his chair as you lept out from your hiding place.

Your laughter turned into worry as Leviathan scrambled to collect himself, tail lashing back and forth behind him as you had startled him so bad he poofed into his demon form.

Laughing so hard there were tears in your eyes you chuckled out an apology before Leviathan was crushing you in a hug.

Your gaming night turns into a just cuddling till you both fall asleep on top of each other in his bed-tub.

Satan

He had been going back his day like any other. Sitting in his room reading. He was hoping to finish this latest novel of his before that night as he would have another excuse to call you and to talk to you.

Ever since you left he has made it a habit to always talk to you about his thoughts on a book after he reads it. Or at least text you about it if it's far too late at night.

Little did he know you had a surprise in store for him for this latest review of his. You had managed to get Lucifer to sneak you in without being seen by the others and had taken up camp at the top of the stairs in Satan’s room.

You watched him from atop the stairs peeking out between the railings just watching him as he went about his day. For a long while he was sprawled out on the bed reading, you couldn't help but smile everytime he checked his phone opening your chat to see if you had been online recently.

It was fun at first to just spy on him but after ten minutes it got boring fast. So you switched tactics and started taking videos of him… except he was still reading… So you switched tactics again! You snatched a book from nearby and ever so carefully held it as far out from your spot on the stairs as possible before dropping it watching Satan jump with a start looking around confused before just going back to his book like nothing had happened.

“Are you kidding me Satan?!?” You finally exclaim glaring down at him with a frown. “MC?!?” He exclaims right back looking at you surprised. His shock doesn't last long as he is storming up the spiral staircase to tackle you onto the small landing narrowly missing a large stack of books.

He is furious at first that you just sat up there picking your nose this entire time when you could have been doing something together though it doesn't last long. He can never stay mad at you.

You can’t help your laugh as he carries you down to his couch, holding you against him with one arm while he opens his book with the other going back to reading with a pout. With a laugh you just settle against him and begin to ask about what he is reading. With a small smile he catches you up to where he is in the book.

Asmodeus

He had been out at the club all night with Solomon. Which is what he had been doing for the majority of the time that you were gone as he couldn't feel lonely if he couldn't even think with the blasting music all around him.

Though as he made his way slowly up stairs to his room, he felt his true feelings return to him. He missed you so much, why did you ever even have to go back to the stupid human world? Why couldn’t he have done with you!? It's not like he would be missing anything important and besides what if you need protecting?

Sure you two are absolutely going to be out having fun and spending time together like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon for the most part, But still!

His previous mood now totally faded, Asmo pouts as he makes his way up to his door half heartedly pushing it open as he steps into the dark and cold room. Locking the door behind him he flicked the lights on kicking his shoes off prepared to just go crash into bed and deal with the repercussions in the morning. Though when he saw the bed he nearly passed out on the spot. Though it wasn't really the bed so much what was on the bed.

Sprawled out and hogging all of the blankets face buried into his pillow was you. Snoring your pretty little head away while he just stared and gawked at you convinced he was passed out in a gutter somewhere dreaming.

When he realized he wasn't dreaming and that instead of cuddling up with you he was just standing there like a fool Asmodeus got to work. He immediately began to strip himself of all his uncomfortable club wear until he was down to his boxers. Hitting the lights Asmo practically took a flying leap into the bed as he forced his way into your arms hugging you tight against him.

He was just so happy to have you here, at first he thought of waking you up though judging from the darkness under your eyes you needed the sleep just as much as he did.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he snuggled in for the night more than happy just to have you back with him. And besides, there will always be later for fun.

Beelzebub

He was headed home after a rough game of Fangol. They had won of course, but just barely. He was starving by the end of it but he didn't want to go to any place on the way home as he currently reeked.

So he all but ran home with his bag thrown over his shoulder completely motivated by the thought of the leftover dinner he had stashed in the fridge.

Beel abandoned his bag on the foot of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and made a b-line straight for the kitchen. Though as he got closer he could smell something that made his stomach grumble. Pushing through the doorway he was absolutely taken aback at the feast laid out before him.

There were at least ten different take out dishes all laid out on the counter before him and at the opposite end the most delicious looking meal of all was standing.

You had heard of Beel's big game from Lucifer and ofc you weren’t about to miss out on celebrating, and what better way to celebrate than with a big meal of all your favorite foods? So you had spent the better half of the afternoon running around getting all your favorites while watching the stream of Beel’s big game.

You were actually still watching the stream of the game when Beel walked in unbeknownst to you. You were watching a replay of a particularly devastating tackle of his when you felt arms wrapping around you. The yelp of surprise that came out of you was soon forgotten as you were being smothered against Beel as he swung you around like a toy nuzzling into the side of your face.

“Yes Beel I missed you too! Please put me down” Beel gently set you back on your feet before you both pulled up stools and dug into your collection of food.

You don't think you had ever seen Beel this happy before, it was to the point where he was practically vibrating with happiness, the smile not once having left his face.

While Beel eats you begin to tell him everything that has happened while you were away. Some of which he already knows but he looks at you with awe and interest regardless taking large bites of his favorite burger in between your explanations. You two were back and were you were meant to be. With each other and that was all that mattered to Beel.

Belphegor

He had been asleep in the attic when you returned, the others all away at school still. So you did what anyone would and clambered into bed next to him making yourself comfortable as you shoved him over and started to scroll through your phone.

An hour easily passed before you felt yourself doze off curling into Belphie, pulling a spare blanket over the two of you before passing out.

When you awoke Belphie was no longer curled up peacefully at your side. Rather he had taken to laying atop you his face squished against your chest as he drooled slightly on your shirt leaving a prominent wet spot on the fabric.

You didn't mind in the slightest as he was so cute in that moment you couldn't help the smile that rose on your face. Running your fingers through his hair, you softly pressed kisses against his face knowing he’d wake up soon enough. And you were right as you scratch softly on his head he opened one eye to peer up at you through shaggy bangs.

“Good to see you awake” You say with a smile and before you can say anything else he pounces on you. Your face is bombarded with kisses and nuzzles and is he purring???

Belphie isn’t about to let you leave after this. I hope you are comfortable cause he is going to hold you there until he feels ready to get up. You have to pee? Too bad. Hungry? He can have Beel bring you all home take out. Legs asleep? Perfect now you can't run away

You two end up sleeping most of the day away until dinner comes and even then he refuses to let you leave his side. Instead you both agree to at least go down stairs to his room so Beel can bring you both dinner and you can lay in his actual bed instead of the kinda smelly attic one.

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious. 

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan 

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put. 

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news. 

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands. 

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all). 

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective. 

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"

[dreamingofaizawa]

Just got DILF Tenya Iida on the brain tonight~

Warnings: Chubby chaser Iida?? age gap, chubby kink(?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, body worship, mating press, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cumflation?, creampie, good freaking aftercare.

Word Count: Idk I typed this straight into tumblr.

Author's Note: For context, Iida is in his forties and reader is in her late twenties.

Tenya Iida who's a little bigger and beefier than he used to be in high school. He's taller too, standing at 6'2" and nearly 200 lbs of toned muscle. He's got a bit of a softened, pudgy gut due to age, hair just barely starting to gray, but he's well aware he's still quite the looker. He hasn't lost any of those respectful mannerisms either, proving time and time again that chivalry is, in fact, not dead.

His son is in his teen years, already training with the next generation of heroes, staying in the UA dorms system that hasn't changed since the year Tenya's class implemented it. Which means Tenya is all alone in the big old house that his parents left him with so they could retire in some secluded snowy mountain somewhere.

He's wallowing in his semi-lonliness, tossing and turning in his too-large bed and wishing there was another body in it.

Along comes you. Chubby little you, curled up in a corner booth all alone at his favorite cafe, nose buried in a thick book, the setting sun's rays shining through the window making you look absolutely ethereal. He's seen his fair share of attractive women, but in his eyes, they were all put to shame next to you.

But how is he supposed to approach you without seeming...creepy? He understands women's apprehension around men, especially in today's society where quirks come in all shapes and sizes and bad people use amazing quirks to do bad things. Maybe...

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" When he blinks back to reality his vision is filled with you, looking up at him with those gorgeous, innocent eyes and fluttering lashes. Plush lips and chubby cheeks and your hair framing your face perfectly.

He hates his body for what it does, his cock chubbing up at the sight of you like that, flooding his brain with worse visions of you in his bed. He shakes those thoughts away, silently grateful that his sweatpants are loose. When had he gotten so close to your table?

"Ah...I apologize for startling you. I had intended to ask you about that book in your hands." The smile you give him is absolutely radiant. He isn't quite listening as you ramble on about your novel, just watching your lips move and your eyes light up. It takes him a bit, but he manages to ask you out on a date.

It isn't until a few years later you finally end up in his bed, having dated him properly. He insisted, after all. But now you're realizing how monstrous his appetite is.

After what feels like hours of having his fingers and tongue buried deep inside you, pulling orgasm after nerve-buzzing orgasm from you, he's finally breaching your sloppy hole with that fat cock of his. His hands are all over your belly, tugging and kneading at all your squish, biting marks into your breasts and growling out how beautiful and gorgeous you are between panted groans.

Tears are falling down your cheeks, nerves feeling fried after so many blissful releases, and he's licking the salty trails off your face and kissing your cheeks, neck, and lips fervently. He's ravenous, hips setting a near bruising pace and there's no way you're walking away from this in the morning.

Even more so when he folds you nearly in half, knees to your chest, his giant hands gripping the back of your chunky thighs so hard you know there's gonna be finger and hand-shaped bruises littering your skin.

He's putting all of his weight into every thrust, the tip of his cock just barely brushing your cervix and it feels so incredibly good. All you can do is hiccup and cry, gripping the sheets with whatever strength you have left. He hasn't even cum yet, but he's clearly close if his shaking thighs and arms have anything to say about it.

He fills you so well when he does cum, the sheer amount of it making it leak from your sore cunt. He's softening inside you, and when he slips out he hisses. The little whimper you let out is signal enough for him to leap into action.

He leaves and comes back with a cool, wet cloth, wiping you clean of any and every bodily fluid that ended up staining your skin. You're barely conscious, completely exhausted as he lowers the both of you into the warm tub.

He massages you, works your sore muscles until you're relaxing into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses onto your face and neck and shoulders, whispering little praises in your ear.

"You did so well, pretty girl."

"So good for me."

"You're so beautiful, sunshine."

He's lathering your skin with soap, rough hands working gently over your body, taking time to appreciate your curves and rolls. By the time he's done you're out cold, and he carries you back to bed all the same, wrapping you in the blanket and settling down next to you to lay in a bed that's finally not empty.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑆/𝑂'𝑠 '𝐶𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑜𝑢' 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong was busy scribbling away on his notebook that he didn't even notice that you had set up a camera to face him in the studio. Giving a thumbs up to the screen, you tiptoed over to where he sat. Crouching down, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek. He didn't really react so you leaned in and kissed his nose, this time a small smile formed on his lips.

"Ok. Ok. Come here." He pushed his chair backwards and placed you on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He thought you just wanted to sit on his lap while he worked, but instead he got you placing kisses all over his face, which made it impossible for him to concentrate, especially when your lips were so soft and warm.

"Baby." He whined as you smushed your lips onto his.

"Hmmm?" You hummed as you continued to kiss him.

"I'm trying to finish.." He told you but still made no effort to move you, instead he just lazily kissed you back.

You chuckled against his lips.

"Ok then..." You pulled back slowly and stood up to get off him.

"Wait! No! Come back!"

In an instant, Hongjoong made you straddle his lap again, his hands cupping the sides of your face as he began kissing you again. He just couldn't stop after you made him crave some smooches.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

All throughout the day, you had been pecking Seonghwa's lips whenever you got the chance. He didn't notice anything off about it, you were always affectionate with each other and he himself tended to be kissing you randomly.

He started to suspect something was up though when you were helping him with his sit ups. Every time he came up, you purposefully kissed him, making him lose count or get distracted. He just giggled though and thought you were being playful or to motivate him in his workouts.

So when you two were cuddling, he started to do the same to you: he began randomly kissing you, making you a blushing mess.

"Seonghwa!" You squeaked when he began kissing down your neck.

"What? You've been like this all day, but when I do it, you get shy?" He shook his head.

That's when you bursted out laughing and began explaining to him what was going on. He became embarrassed and began laughing.

"Here I thought I made you fall in love with me more and that's why you were so lovey dovey." He confessed awkwardly.

You smile and leaned in to kiss him again.

"There's no way I could possibly fall more in love with you than what I already am."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho was already excited at the thought of getting to spend time with you after endless promotions. He had missed you so much and craved your affection that he obviously didn't find it weird that you were peppering him with kisses when you met up.

"Oh my god. Baby did you miss me that much?" He teased you even though he had missed you a lot as well.

You two went out and did all sorts of things: go to an arcade, take a walk in the park, got lunch somewhere and eventually went back to your place to watch some movies. All throughout this, Yunho had not really noticed that you were kissing him more than usual.

Sensing that he wasn't really reacting, you decided to try something. Throughout the entire movie, you began kissing different parts of his face almost every 15 seconds. At first Yunho just smiled and would mutter something about you being cute.

Then suddenly, after you kissed his neck for 4 times in a row, he stopped and looked at you with a serious look.

"I hope you're willing to take responsibility for your actions."

He shocked you when he tackled you onto the couch, trapping you in his arms as he aggressively kissed your cheeks and neck. You writhed your body as you tried to get out, but Yunho wasn't having it.

"You can't just keep kissing me and showering me with affection and not expect me to retaliate Y/N! This is war!" He chuckled as he kept attacking you with kisses.

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You truly weren't sure how to go about this. Yeosang wasn't particularly fond of PDA and wouldn't often initiate affection. Still, you wanted to see how he would react....if he even reacted at all.

You started off by linking hands with him as you walked by the streets, he didn't seem to mind, even putting your hands inside his coat pocket to keep them warm. Going in for the kill, you pecked his cheek. He stopped in his tracks for a split second but then continued on as if nothing happened, only noticeable difference was the blush on his cheeks and ears. You tried doing that several more times and succeeded in 4 of them, but the rest Yeosang ended up avoiding.

You honestly felt disappointed. Sure Yeosang was shy, but you never thought he'd reject your affection so coldly. So you decided to give up and just sat there quietly next to him on the bed as he read one of his many novels, his hand squeezing yours every now and then. Feeling a little brave and wanting to try it one last time, you leaned in and placed 3 kisses to his temple. Yeosang paused before closing his book. After he set it down, he turned to look at you, sighing as he stared deep in your eyes. You were about to apologize but then he surprised you by pulling you into a soft and romantic kiss.

He only pulled back to whisper against your lips:

"You have no idea how long I've been holding back." before proceeding to kiss you again.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

You already pictured how the challenge might end up, you knew your boyfriend so well. As expected, every time you placed a kiss on any part of his face, he'd return the favor. And the more kisses you were giving him, the more he clung onto you.

Soon, it was he who was placing more and more kisses on you that you almost forgot you were supposed to be the one doing the kissing.

"Seriously baby? What has gotten into you?" San asked you rather amused when you crawled into his lap and intensified the amount of kisses you were giving him.

"Don't." Kiss. "Know." Kiss. "Want." Kiss. "Kissies." You responded with kisses in between your words.

San chuckled at how cute you were.

"Well....seems to me like someone is being needy."

He flipped your positions so he was now hovering above you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Do you want some help?"

Attaching his lips to your neck, San began nibbling on all your sensitive spots, making you get flustered as you tried to push him off.

"San! Wait! It was only a challenge!" You exclaimed, letting out a tiny moan when he bit down on a particular spot.

"You think that's gonna stop me?" He smirked at you.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"Baby? What do you think of this one?"

Mingi only got a kiss in response to his question. He blushed slightly and put the red sweater back.

"That's the 4th time you've done that." He pointed out.

"Done what?" You feigned ignorance.

"Kissed me out of nowhere." He explained.

You merely mumbled something and went back to looking through the clothes on the rack. Mingi was confused though, not knowing what was going on. Were you trying to tell him something? Were you mad at him? Did he do something wrong? Was this payback? He was so lost.

He just decided to see what else you'd do and indeed, you kept pecking his lips at random times that left him baffled and somehow wanting more. Now whenever you started leaning in, he'd cup your chin and kiss you back. He began thinking that maybe he'd been neglecting you and you wanted extra love. So when you guys got back home, the first thing he did was pick you up and carry you to the bedroom as he kissed you all over your face.

"Ok we're home now. So let me love you and adore you like the little baby you are." He cooed at you as he tangled his legs and arms all around your body.

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

You were frustrated. At first, everything was going fine. Wooyoung became shook every time you planted a kiss on his lips at random times, sometimes blushing. But now? He was evading your kisses.

"Oh look! Mail's here!" He exclaimed as he walked away from you before you could even lean into his face.

It seemed like he was doing it on purpose. So you tried something.

"Woo? Can you get this thing down for me?" You pointed to one of the cabinets in the kitchen.

Sighing, Wooyoung abandoned his task of washing fruits to go help you out.

"Shorty." He snorted as he got down the box of pretzels for you.

You grinned at him. "Thank you my handsome and tall boy-"

You were cut off because he placed the box in front of your face when you tried to yet again kiss him. He began laughing at your frowning face.

"You're so mean! All I want is to kiss you!" You huffed.

"Oh really? You sure it's not for your vlog?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

You widened your eyes at him, wondering how he knew when he continued.

"You're not very discreet baby. And besides, I'm always the one initiating kisses. That was the first clue something was up."

You had to give it to him: he is smarter than what you gave him credit for.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You decided to start early, knowing it'd be a lot cuter to catch his reaction if he was still half asleep. You cuddled up next to his sleeping body, sifts snores coming out of his nose. You brushed your nose against his cheek before pressing a soft kiss on his skin. He didn't move.

Pouting, you moved him slightly, making him groan softly. Hovering on top of him, you began pecking his lips repeatedly. At first, Jongho only twitched the corners of his lips and then he started giggling softly.

"5 more minutes baby cakes. And then I'll play with you." He whined softly.

You started humming, making it seem like you'd let him have his 5 minutes, but one minute passed and you began kissing his lips again. Jongho groaned, repeating that he was tired. You began to kiss his shoulders and when he shuffled his body, you ended up kissing his neck, more specifically, right on his mole, where he was particularly sensitive in.

Jongho's eyes shut wide open, startling you and further scaring you when he flipped you in the blink of an eye and pinned you down on the bed.

"Ok. My turn."

He was definitely awake now.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[obabyobeymeme]

Resting with the Boys[TM]

summary: what i think falling asleep with them around would be like. that- that’s it, that’s the post note: yayayayy first post! this has been in my notes app for a Long time, so.. buckle up, this is going to be kinda long no matter what i do, thoughts went brrrrrr, sorry lmao.

Lucifer ➛ Good luck getting a moment alone with him. With all the work he has assigned by Diavolo, the time he spends cleaning up after his brothers’ shenanigans, and his duties as the eldest, it seems like he never has free time. ➛ When you do catch him alone, he’s either not in the mood for any sort of interaction or he’s taken the liberty of passing out at his desk, pen still in hand as he rests. ➛ You aren’t doing so well yourself, being a human exchange student doesn’t mean R.A.D. will go easy on you. Classes, assignments, and sometimes even just having to deal with the rest of the student body can be pretty tiring. ➛ Your patience pays off when the day finally comes that he’s mostly free of duties and your assigned tasks at the moment are all finished as well.

➛ You two don’t really do much, you spend the time talking over hot beverages and enjoying each other’s company in his office. Just having you around and not causing a ruckus is already more than enough for him. ➛ Lucifer ends up going on a halfhearted rant about his brothers as he organizes some papers next to you. How he found out about another one Satan and Belphie’s plots to inconvenience him and how he’ll turn it against them, wondering how the house hasn’t been decimated while he went on business trips sometimes... It’s nice seeing him not as uptight as he usually is. ➛ You end up getting a little drowsy despite your best attempts to listen to what he’s saying. Eventually your drowsiness wins over and you kinda.. nod off. Hopefully he doesn’t mind. (He does mind, actually. Sleeping sitting down may sound like a good idea at first, but Lucifer knows your neck will hate you for it when you wake up.) ➛ He doesn’t want to wake you, so he carefully nudges your head onto his lap before finishing up with the papers, occasionally running his hand through your hair. ➛ Once he’s done, he carries you to your room and makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving a kiss on your forehead and leaving, closing the door softly behind him.

Mammon ➛ When you suggest a lazy afternoon to him, he’ll act as if he has no time for a silly activity like that. Why would he? The Great Mammon has better things to do with his time than spending it lazing around with some- ➛ He trails off once he sees your slightly disappointed face. When you say you’ll find someone else to nap with, he changes his tune almost instantly. ➛ He just.. takes your wrist and goes “W-well, if ya want it THAT badly... but just this once, got it??” as he sorta tugs you along to his bedroom. ➛ This is where you learn that he has no idea how to share a bed with someone else. He seems torn between wanting to scoot closer or give you as much space he can without actually leaving the bed. ➛ You decide to make the decision for him, resting your head on his shoulder as you start rambling. Mammon warms up eventually and slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer. ➛ You drift off during a lull in the conversation, unintentionally leaving him hanging for a full minute before he realizes you’re asleep. ➛ He watches you for a while and makes sure you’re really out, then reaches for his phone and takes a picture (or five) of your sleeping face. What? You’re cute even when you sleep apparently! He’d rather go through one of Lucifer’s scoldings than admit that to your face in the near future though. ➛ You know that meme where people say they can't do anything because a cat fell asleep on them? Yeah, that happened to Mammon because of the arm he placed around you, he ended up falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms. ➛ When you wake up, you cannot move without his grip getting just a bit tighter. Greedy even in his sleep, it seems... rip if you have to go to the bathroom lmao

Leviathan ➛ You two spent pretty much the whole day in his room, geeking out over shared interests, catching up on anime Levi introduced to you, trying (and occasionally failing) at the games you both play ➛ You don’t even notice it’s well past 1 AM until you feel like you’ve been staring at a screen for an awful long time now, what time is- oh. ➛ Levi’s slightly disappointed that your hangout has to end, but yeah, he gets it. Everyone needs their sleep, even hardcore otakus. He’s about to tell you that you can leave when you flop into his bathtub bed, saying you’re too tired to walk all the way back. ➛ He short-circuits at the sight of you wrapping yourself around one of the many body-sized pillows, and when you realize he still has to get in the tub to sleep? And instead of getting out, you sit up and insist on him getting in with you??? ➛ A system error has occurred. Please restart your Leviathan. Come on, this is like that one scene in this shoujo anime he’s found where the main character and the person they’re pining for share a bed! ➛ He doesn’t say anything, but judging by the expression he’s making and how he’s clambering in behind you, you don’t think he minds too much. ➛ You two end up with his upper body propped up by the pillows and you kinda laying on top of him. It's a bit awkward considering the unconventional sleeping area, but it’s honestly more comfortable than you expected. ➛ Levi actually ends up falling asleep before you. You thought you were tired? Try being awake for 22 hours straight waiting for an exclusive merch drop you just couldn’t miss. He is out, and nothing you do can wake him. ➛ You both end up waking around noon thanks to your little late night stunt. Consider yourselves lucky that Satan saved you guys a plate before Beel got to it.

Satan ➛ He finds you in the House’s library, bent over at a table studying three textbooks at once. Understandable, given that it’s exam season, but it doesn’t look like you’re doing yourself any favors. ➛ And he’s right. You can’t make sense of anything in the books and you can feel a small headache coming on ➛ Satan offers to give you some help with your studies... after you’ve rested. He won’t take no for an answer, and since his room is much closer, he thinks it’s fine if you crash there while you take a break. ➛ He just has to... actually make space for you to rest first, though. He can navigate the chaos that is his room just fine, but you could easily trip on something, or worse, accidentally activate something cursed. ➛ Once that’s taken care of, you take a seat on his bed, scrolling through your D.D.D. as he takes one of the chairs, picking up a novel he bookmarked.  ➛ The scent of the books and the occasional sound of a page turning as Satan reads, along with his occasional hums of interest really helped put you at ease. After a couple of moments, despite yourself, you curl up and drift off. ➛ In between page turns, Satan would turn to check on you. When he realizes you’re asleep, he marks his novel and sets it down, turning to face you instead.  Since he knows his room can get a bit drafty sometimes, he drapes a blanket over you, smiling softly as you wrap the blanket more around yourself. ➛ You looking so cozy almost makes him want to join you, but just seeing that you’re comfy and much less stressed than before is enough right now. He instead gives you a head pat and goes back to his novel, the smile never quite leaving his face.

Asmodeus ➛ You know Asmo loves spending time together, from shopping trips to going to new places to even simple things like a tea spilling session every other night. ➛ So when you come to his room one evening to tell him sorry, you don’t really feel like a night on the town right now and would rather stay in and recharge, he’s not even as disappointed as you’d thought he’d be. ➛ He insists on pampering you both tonight, that way, you get to rest and relax with him, and he gets you all to himself for at least a couple of hours, uninterrupted. It’s a win-win scenario, in his opinion, and who are you to decline? ➛ You let him work his magic with whatever he has laying around, falling into your usual routine of talking as he does his and your nails and readies a face mask for the two of you as ambient music from his D.D.D. fills the air. ➛ When you find yourself getting sleepy, Asmo doesn’t mind at all! He puts away the stuff he used and suggests a little impromptu sleepover. ➛ You shouldn’t have been that surprised when he climbs into the bed after you, and you should’ve realized he’d be just as clingy in bed as he is normally. He can and will be all over you if you let him— running his fingers through your hair, cuddles like there’s no tomorrow...  ➛ His ridiculously soft and comfy bed definitely isn’t helping matters, and you drift off in record time. ➛ He’ll make sure you’re all tucked in and maybe internally squeal at how adorable you’re being, leaning into his touch in your sleep makes his heart do a flip ➛ You wake up the next day feeling like a new person, and next to you, looking surprisingly photogenic for someone half-asleep, is Asmo, tugging you back under the covers because it’s warmer with you in there. 

Beelzebub ➛ He’s been waiting at R.A.D.’s entrance for 20 minutes now. You were supposed to meet him so you could head to Hell’s Kitchen and hang out for a bit, but there’s still no sign of you and you haven’t read any of his texts. ➛ He gets a text from you then. Turns out your phone was on silent, because you felt a little burnt out from school and juggling hangout times with everyone else and went straight back to the House, wanting some quiet time. ➛ You send another message apologizing for the sudden change of plans and for not seeing his messages sooner, but Beel is pretty understanding. ➛ He isn’t letting his chance at being with you go that easily, though. He drops by a store to get you a little care package (and a handful of snacks so he still has something to give you by the time he gets to the house) and heads home. ➛ A few moments later, your door opens to reveal Beel. He leaves the food he brought on your table and sits down on the edge of your bed. You decide a cuddle buddy doesn’t sound too bad right now. After all, you already had the experience of sharing a room with Beel, surely sharing a bed will be similar? ➛ ... Not exactly. He’ll unintentionally take up half your bed no matter what you two do; you’ll either be searching for space or be pulled into the space he’s occupying like some sort of demon-shaped black hole. ➛ The solution: lay on his chest. He assures you that you aren’t too heavy for him, and if he’s being honest? Your weight is actually kinda comforting. ➛ You stay like that for a while, listening to his breathing and heartbeat, and eventually the stress of the past few days melts away, and you fall asleep with your arms draped over him like a pillow. ➛ He doesn’t mind, since you’re pretty much a living teddy bear to him, and he lets himself relax, a hand resting on your back. He just hopes his stomach won’t wake you both up...

Belphegor ➛ Let me get this straight. You want Belphegor, the literal Avatar of Sloth, to take a nap with you? Chances are he’s already half-asleep and all that’s left to do is join him... if he lets you. ➛ He’ll look at you, slightly irritated, but he’s too tired to argue, and you’d be warmer than a pillow, at least, so he motions for you to get in next to him. Just don’t move around too much or he’ll hog all the blankets in retaliation. ➛ If you’re close enough with him, either one of you has unspoken permission to join the other while they’re resting, no questions asked.  ➛ Probably has a bunch of pillows and blankets stowed away in various parts of the House, so nap supplies are readily available. Saves him from having to drag his stuff from place to place. ➛ The one downside to sleeping with Belphie is that he doesn’t need any time to unwind. He can go from full attention to catching Zs in minutes, leaving you no choice but to follow him into dreamland. ➛ He does cuddle a lot, though he’ll brush it off as using you as his personal heater. He’ll complain if you try to do it first, but he won’t make any moves to actually stop you. He actually might lean into you, making up an excuse about your side being comfier. ➛ If he really, really trusts you, he’ll lend you his beloved cow-print pillow. Only five minutes tops, though, then you have to give it back. ➛  When nights are bad and he doesn’t want to wake Beel up, he used to head to the planetarium to calm himself down. Now he slips into your room and takes comfort in knowing that you’re still safe and sound. You’ve woken up several times finding Belphie nuzzled into your blanket. ➛ If he feels especially clingy, his demon form’s tail will appear, slowly but firmly wrapping itself around your waist. Good luck getting out of bed without him knowing.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Hermione Granger

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I’m sorry but Hermione in her uniform is beautiful.)

- You and Hermione meet during your first year at Hogwarts. The two of you wound up being partners in potions class and we all know how Hermione is when it comes to her schoolwork.

- She’s very much so the “here let me do it” sort of person when she sees that you’re doing something wrong. Not that you mind; you aren’t exactly keen on getting on Snape’s bad side.

- She’s also very adamant on teaching you how to do things and having you try again; after she shows you the correct way to do them, which gives her the chance to look at you more closely and say to herself “wow she’s pretty”.

- Initially, she sort of just thinks that she’s envious of your good looks or that she finds herself looking at you merely because you’re pretty and people like looking at pretty things. It’s only after a bit of reflecting that she realizes she likes you more than a person likes flowers.

- The only logical conclusion is that she has a crush on you and …oh dear.

- Yeah, Hermione isn’t …the best with crushes. The minute she realizes that she likes you, she turns into a bit of an awkward mess.

- She’ll say somewhat strange things before nervously trying to correct herself. She’ll touch you for a bit too long or without meaning to before jumping away upon realizing what she’s doing. She’ll give you handshakes instead of hugs when you greet each other or do good on a joint project or what have you. Etc, etc, etc.

- She’ll do whatever she can to hang out with you one day while avoiding you like the plague the next; usually because she’s having a bad hair day or something similar. The boys are clueless as to why she’s acting strange but they agree to help her with whatever she asks; usually meaning that they help her hide from you.

- Once the two of you become friends; which is somewhat inevitable with Hermione and the people she likes since she’ll force herself into their lives, she’ll subtly hint at a relationship between the two of you and try to find out more about you and your type.

- There’s going to be a lot of mutual pining. Hermione’s obviously pretty so of course you’ll fall for the strong willed, activist girl who’s now your best friend. And she’s been in love with you since first year but it’ll take a while for her to admit her feelings.

- Viktor Krum probably found out Hermione liked you midway through fourth year and immediately began hyping her up, teasing and telling her to confess her feelings to you. He also probably got you a date to the Yule ball and you four hung out all night because he’s a sweetheart but I digress.

- The thing is, you’re now close friends and she doesn’t want to lose that, so she ends up spewing her feelings out in a fit of desperate frustration. She calls you an idiot, telling you that she loves you and has loved you for years, and if you’re too stupid to notice then nothing; not even her tutoring sessions, can help you, and you’re too stunned to even be offended.

- So there she is, standing there and trying to catch her breath, close to tears and embarrassed before you finally manage to find your words. You tell her that she’ll have to deal with your stupidity forever now because you like her too.

- She takes a deep breath, furrowing her eyebrows slightly and nervously saying “you …do.”, like she’s trying to quickly process what you’ve just said; as though she anticipated a wildly different response.

“Good.” She says after a moment, nodding as she does so. She says the words in a stunted, sort of relieved tone, like someone who didn’t expect an issue to be resolved as soon as it was.

- The two of you have your first date at Hogsmeade where you sort of just wander around the village and talk, trying to bond while enjoying a bit of privacy. Harry and Ron probably show up midway through and she tries her best to signal with her eyes that this “isn’t a good time” before she’s forced to give a pointed, whisper yelled “could you two please leave”. 

- Hermione tends to give a lot of cheek and head kisses to the people she’s close to and you would not be exempt from this. Just saying. 

- The two of you share your first kiss about a month or so after your first date. She’d been stressing over something and you’d laid a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright until she finally managed to calm down. 

- Later on, as you were getting up to leave, she’d leaned over and planted a soft, somewhat chaste kiss on your lips before you both made your way out of the room. You had smiles on your faces for the rest of the day. 

- Congratulations, you’ve managed to score the brightest witch in all of Hogwarts. Consider yourself a very lucky girl; she certainly considers herself to be one.

- The wizarding world seems pretty progressive all things considered so pda isn’t a taboo when it comes to your relationship. She’s more than happy to engage in it though she keeps it polite and innocent out of pure preference. 

- Her slinging her arm around your shoulder. 

- Tight hugs; especially when you’re reunited after a long time or you come back from something dangerous. 

- Handholding. 

- Cheek and head kisses. 

- Sweet and soft kisses. 

- Abrupt and passionate kisses; usually after a surge of emotion courses through her. She’ll occasionally get flustered and apologize for getting ahead of herself, as though you’re not in a relationship. 

- She usually just calls you by your given name but occasionally she’ll call you something like honey or dear. 

- The two of you cuddle laying on your sides with your arms wrapped around each other. Sometimes Crookshanks will wiggle his way between your bodies and you’ll get a nose full of cat hair but you get used to it. 

- Speaking of the orange baby: plucking cat hair from each other’s clothing and taking turns snuggling the endearingly ugly creature.

- Helping her carry all the books she lugs around.

- Getting matching bracelets/necklaces.

- Helping her with her hair.

- Compliments; the two of you are constantly praising each other. She tends to comment on your schoolwork like how you’ve improved so much or congratulating you on doing so well on an exam.

- She’s “secretly” really fond of making you little cards and origami. She lives for Valentine’s Day and you can’t help but find it adorable.

- Supporting S.P.E.W. and wearing one of her badges; whether or not you agree with it.

- Quiet days spent inside. The two of you usually just sit in one of your dorms or the library, talking about whatever comes to mind or doing your own things.

- Study dates.

- Assuring her she’s going to do great on tests. She always gets really stressed and frazzled before a big exam so you always have to make sure she breathes and relaxes a bit.

- She’s always jumping to help you in any way she can, and she always has the knowledge to do so.

- Writing letters to each other over the summer.

- Sitting together in the courtyard.

- Going to The Three Broomsticks and getting a bit tipsy off butter beer. She’s a lightweight.

- Having a cute little book club. The two of you take turns reading to each other and discussing the different novels you’ve read.

- Playing the piano together.

- Baking together.

- Play fighting. The two of you do that cute, grabbing each other’s arms and trying to push each other while giggling sort of thing that couples do.

- Having your dates interrupted by the boys. The two of them are going to be completely clueless about your relationship for a while before finally catching on and giving you more space; unless something oh so important happens.

- Tagging along and helping the golden trio whenever you can. You’re a certified member of their clique by now.

- Cheering the boys on at Quidditch games together. The two of you are usually huddled close to keep warm. 

- Speaking of cheering: she's your biggest cheerleader. She’s always wishing you good luck and rooting for you and giving you an enthusiastic whoop; even if it makes people give her funny looks. 

- Breaking her out of her shell and getting her to let loose a little more. She feels the need to constantly be put together and perfect and you do your best to reassure her that, sometimes, she can just have fun. 

- Dancing together. 

- Whenever she’s really excited and/or really wants your attention for one reason or another and you have homework, she always ends up impatiently snatching it with a “give it here” before doing it for you and launching into whatever it is she wanted from you. 

- Being on the receiving end of her scolding looks. You always get one if you’ve done something or are doing something wrong. 

- Comforting her. She’s a bit sensitive and cries sort of easily; particularly when she’s angry which she gets embarrassed about, so you’re always there to make her feel better.

- She’s constantly checking you over and taking care of you when you’re hurt and/or sick. It helps to have a half blood girlfriend who knows nearly every spell like the back of her hand.

- She always just seems to understand you and know how you’re feeling. She’ll always be there to give advice and comfort you.

- Defending her from wizard racism. You might not stand up for yourself but you sure as hell are willing to hex a man half to death for saying something about her. 

- She has a habit of grabbing onto you when she’s scared so expect to have her wrapped around you or holding your hand in a death grip whenever anything spooky occurs.

- Hermione is smart enough to tell when something is entirely platonic so she doesn’t get jealous very often. It’s only when someone shows actual interest in you that she gets a bit self conscious. She can usually keep herself in check but she’ll occasionally tell you that they were flirting with you in an exasperated tone before you reassure her that you don’t want them.

- She’s more protective in the “I’m going to take care of you” sort of way but she has been known to throw a punch at or use a hex on someone who hurts you or your feelings. She worries over you a lot so rest assured, if you’re upset/hurt, she’ll be right by your side fussing over you.

- She hates being wrong so that’s where most of your arguments probably stem from. You really don’t have a lot of arguments though, all things considered. She’s perfectly capable of communicating her feelings so you rarely need to fight about anything; at least not for long.

- She has a habit of holding grudges and won’t want to admit she’s wrong so expect her to take a bit of time before she says she’s sorry. If she’s proven right then she’ll pointedly say that “well, someone owes someone an apology” but if she’s proven wrong she’ll admit that she owes you one.

- She’s a big softie so she tells you that she loves you quite a bit; mainly in private though she isn’t afraid to say it in public.

- She’s gonna go places and she’s taking you with her. After everything that happened, the two of you enjoy a peaceful, fulfilling life together and she couldn’t be happier.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.8

Summary: Walter and Penny adapt to Maryland

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Tomorrow Walter and I are going to move to Maryland and there is just one more thing I need to do: buy some snacks. My cravings have been all over the place recently, so a trip without snack is asking for trouble. Walter is packing the final things with my mom and dad and in a minute they are going to put everything in the truck and U-haul. Since I’m the only one that knows what I really want, I decided to go on a little grocery store trip.

I’m wearing an oversized sweater on top of my leggings and it’s almost the only piece of clothing that is able to hide the bump. I’m seventeen weeks pregnant now, meaning the bump is harder and harder to hide, however this sweater will do. The chances of me running into someone I actually know is next to zero, but better be safe than sorry.

I walk into the grocery store and grab a basket, slowly filling it with what I want. ‘There she is,’ I hear a voice say, one I haven’t heard in so long and certainly haven’t missed.

Fitzgerald.

Every hair in my neck stands up straight. I simply pull my lips into an awkward smile, before walking off to the register. As I’m scanning the products, he actually follows me and I hate how this guy never understands the message, spoken or unspoken.

‘So, you haven’t been coming to classes,’ he says.

‘I know,’ I say, ‘I quit. Been looking into some other things.’

That is already more than I actually wanted to share with him, but hopefully it’s enough to make him go away.

‘Oh really? What you been looking into?’

Just fuck off, Fitzgerald. ‘First of all moving back home,’ I say, packing everything in my bag. ‘New York never really was the place for me.’ After paying for my snacks, I walk out of the store, only to hear the footsteps of the guy who just won’t leave me alone following behind me.

‘Did you hear that professor Marshall is quitting?’

Yes, I actually helped him writing his resignation letter. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I didn’t.’

‘Apparently he got a job offer somewhere else.’

Yep, in Maryland. ‘Good for him,’ I say. ‘Well, I gotta go. Bye, Fitzgerald.’

He wants to say something, but then his eyes widen. ‘Yeah, bye,’ he says. He quickly turns around and is gone by the time I looked over my shoulder at him.

What was that about?

When I look up, I glare at Walter, who is standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a street light, his arms crossed. I walk up to him and without saying a word at first, we get mixed into the crowd. ‘What was that about?’ I ask him.

‘Nothing,’ he says, a little too nonchalant for my liking, ‘just wanted to make sure that you weren’t carrying anything too heavy.’ He pulls the bags from my hands and adds: ‘I hate that snotty kid.’

‘I had everything under control,’ I say, poking his side. ‘Did you see him scooting away?’

‘I wish I had it on video,’ Walter chuckles.

My parents are already in the U-haul they rented to make moving as quickly and easy as possible for us and I hand them some snacks.

‘Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re moving back,’ mom says, after our final pee. Walter just handed over the key to the realtor of his loft and stands behind me, before he says: ‘I know I am happy to move to Maryland. I quite love the place already.’ He presses a kiss on my temple.

My parents get in the U-haul and I wave to them as they drive off. Walter helps me in the truck and when he sits next to me, he gives me a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he tells me.

‘I love you too, Walter.’ I take off my sweater, before strapping myself in the seatbelt. ‘It’s ridiculously hot in here,’ I say, leaning back against the seat.

‘Twenty bucks you are gonna be cold within half an hour.’

I glare at him. ‘That’s mean.’

‘Ah, princess, don’t pout. You know how that makes me weak.’ I continue to tut my bottom lip out and he chuckles. ‘Let’s just hope the baby doesn’t get your pout, because otherwise I can never say no.’

‘No matter what the baby looks like,’ I say, ‘you’re gonna be unable to say no anyway. You are such a push over with me, this baby will wrap you around their finger in no time.’

‘Ai, exposed.’ He holds my hand in his as he drives off and gives me a kiss on my knuckles.

‘You thought about the co sleeping thing I mentioned to you?’ I ask him.

He sighs. ‘Yes and I’m not sure about it. I mean, we could place a crib in our room, right?’

‘But that’s so sad for the baby. To be alone like that after living inside my stomach for so long. What if they don’t be to be alone? They are not gonna sleep in our bed forever, Walter.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but… what if I crush them? I mean, they would be in between us, so… That means no sleep for me.’

I start to laugh. ‘That was your worry? Oh, Walter.’ Since I’m already close to him, I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Aren’t you absolutely darling?’

I actually spot a faint blush on his cheeks.

I decide not to push it any further, because I feel like this co sleep thing is something that needs to simmer for awhile. ‘Can I ask a question?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘What if something goes wrong,’ I start, but he is having none of it.

‘No, no, no, nothing is gonna go wrong.’

‘But what if?’ I say. ‘I mean, something could go wrong during birth.’

He clenches his jaw, not wanting to talk about it obviously. ‘I see,’ he mumbles.

‘What I wanted to say was that if I am unable to answer, that you should decide what happens, okay? I’m one hundred percent sure you are going to choose the right thing for us.’

He smiles. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, princess, princess, don’t scare me like that, okay?’

I smile. ‘Sorry.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Walter and I bought a house and never in a million years did I expect to have this type of domestic life at only twenty one, however it’s exactly the life I have now and I wouldn’t change it for the world. The move from New York and Maryland went pretty swiftly, especially because my parents helped a lot, since it’s only twenty minutes from my parents’ place.

The place we chose was already pretty great, but Walter and I decided—okay, I decided—that some wallpaper should cheer it up. It was a lot of white and it made me feel like I was at a dentist. There’s lots of pastel going on now, mint green, baby blue, soft pink and some yellow.

However, Walter did all the work, because he doesn’t want me to do anything. Too much work can’t be good for the baby, princess.

He now works at the Maryland Police Department and he is actually enjoying it a lot. He now is on patrol duties, but it will only take a few months before he is back as a detective again.

Weeks have gone by and today marks me being twenty seven weeks pregnant. I won’t lie about it, but I’m very over this pregnancy already. Everything hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs hurts and don’t get me started on my back. I’m mostly sitting on the couch, reading both informative books and novels if I’m not mindlessly watching Netflix shows.

I am a horrendous cook, but I continue to try some things for Walter, because I hate it that he has to both work and cook himself some dinner when he’s off.

Walter comes back from work and smiles when he sees me. ‘There is my beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘Princess, princess, aren’t you gorgeous.’

‘Stop,’ I chuckle, trying to get up from the couch, but fail miserably. ‘I’m sorry, but dinner got burned.’

He smiles. ‘That’s okay, princess. I’ll order some take out, don’t you worry.’

‘I’m really useless,’ I admit. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He scoffs. ‘Don’t say stuff like that. You’re never useless.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. ‘Tell me what did you do today?’

‘I went to that meeting,’ I say, ‘talked about being a first time mom. It’s just that…’ I place my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Why is that, princess?’

‘What if I’m a terrible mom?’

‘You’re not gonna be a terrible mom,’ he retorts. ‘The audacity to think you’re gonna be a terrible mom, when I know that you are nothing but sweet, kind, lovely and you will be a wonderful mom.’

‘Really?’ I ask.

‘Really, darling.’ He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘It’s okay to be scared, however, you have nothing to worry about. Not when I am right here for the two of you.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next day, while my mom and I are folding some baby clothes, we watch dad and Walter finish the crib. Mom has been sharing embarrassing baby stories about me and to make things even worse, my dad adds a few stories to it, some I didn’t even know.

Thankfully Walter really enjoys them, because he chuckles loudly. It took him awhile, but he is really liking it, having my parents around.

‘You really don’t want to know the gender?’ mom asks me.

‘No,’ I say, ‘I like to be surprised.’

‘Walter,’ my mom sighs, ‘can’t you talk some sense into her?’

‘Sorry, CC,’ he says, ‘but I kinda like the surprise too.’

She scoffs, before she lets out a chuckle. The baby already made the bond between my parents and I a lot tighter and for that I’m forever grateful.

I resit a little and Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he didn’t notice immediately I was slightly uncomfortable. ‘Princess, are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just my back hurts.’

‘How about you go to bed?’ Walter suggests. ‘Rest a little? You’ve been up pretty early on.’ When I don’t stand up immediately, he walks over to me and crouches down in front of me. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing, just tired and in pain, that’s all.’

He nods, pulls me up and holds my hand tightly in his. I want to apologize to my parents, but my mom simply tells me not to worry. ‘Pregnancy can be rough, darling,’ she says, ‘so please don’t worry.’

I wonder if it’s hard for my mom to see me pregnant, when she couldn’t get pregnant herself. She never said it to me, but still I wonder from time to time. Even if she does have some hard feelings against it, she never shows it, as she is super supportive of the pregnancy. I give her a kiss, just like I give my dad a kiss and mom says: ‘Walter, did you even sleep last night?’

‘No, this one woke me up,’ he says with a smile.

‘You should sleep as well. You had a late shift the day before yesterday and you two should get a lot of sleep when you can. When the baby is here, she’ll keep you up.’

‘We really don’t know the gender, mom,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know if they are gonna be a he or a she.’

‘Worth a shot, you gotta give me that. Okay, you go rest, we finish up in here and let ourselves out. We love you.’

‘Love you too,’ I say back, before Walter and I walk towards the bedroom. He helps me out of my sweatpants and into the bed. I hug the pregnancy pillow, and the bed dips down a bit when Walter gets underneath the thin blanket behind me. He places his hand on my stomach, before kissing my temple. ‘You comfortable, sweetheart?’

‘I am,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.’

‘No, don’t do that.’

It only causes me to sniffle, but Walter knows exactly what to do when I have these slight emotional outbursts. He pulls my back closer against his chest, despite him being very warm, he tugs the blankets over our bodies and warms me up even more, giving me more kisses on the side of my face. ‘It can get pretty rough, princess,’ he says, ‘and that’s okay. Just let it all out, okay?’

‘Why are you so sweet?’ I hiccup.

He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re gonna be the mom of our kid and you’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna be sweet to you. Forever and ever, princess. Forever and ever.’

[snowywrites]

Natsuki x comedic!reader

summary: this was a request from someone on quotev, reader is gender neutral!

word count: 3k

You set your bag down next to your usual chair in the Literature Club room before taking a seat in one of the desk chairs. Stretching your arms up high over your head, you suppress a yawn; being stuck in school for an extra hour or so wasn't all that bad, considering you got to see your friends whom you didn't really share any classes with.

"Ugh. You're never the first one here."

A familiar irritated voice catches your attention, and you turn around in your chair to grin at the one and only Natsuki. Your expression brightens even more when you notice what she's carrying.

"Aww! Are those for us?" You coo, rising quickly from your chair to hurry over to the short pink-haired girl standing by the entrance to the room, examining the tray of muffins in her hands.

Immediately Natsuki recoils away from you, reminding you so much of a stray cat who never received enough love in their life. The thought makes you snort to yourself as she even straight up hisses, "Wh- these aren't for- I mean- they're for the club! But they aren't for, like, you and me!"

You listen to her fierce but confusing denial politely, your smile softening but never completely disappearing. She could get so riled up sometimes over the tiniest things.

Natsuki's blush is apparent, and you're highly tempted to make some sort of joking comment comparing her to something, when she suddenly backs up too far and collides with the doorframe of the classroom behind her. She squeaks, the tray suddenly seeming very shaky in her hands as she struggles to regain her balance to keep herself from toppling to the floor.

Not missing a beat, you reach out to catch the tray just as it slips from her hands, only narrowly managing to avoid watching the muffins spill all over the place.

Feeling pretty proud of yourself for that nice save, you hold the tray up triumphantly with one hand, showing off just a little bit as you smirk at Natsuki. "Well, what do you think? Have I earned the right to have at least one of these most-delightfully-baked-goods?"

She's fumbling for a response, ego most definitely wounded.

You lower the tray again, adding teasingly, "Alas, if you can't spare even one little muffin, I suppose we could work out some kind of arrangement?" You pause and hum, tapping your chin thoughtfully with one finger from your free hand, pretending to think for a moment. "How's about, say, three years of your devoted friendship? That about equals the rescued lives of- onetwothreefourfiveand... six muffins, wouldn't you agree?" You say, making a small show out of counting them.

Natsuki glares at you with scorching magenta eyes, stuttering over her words so much ('don't compare her to Yuri even as a joke, she will kill us right here and now, Y/N.') that you start to worry if maybe you've gone too far in teasing her today- not everyone appreciates your jokes, but you usually got the impression that Natsuki actually kind of liked them... even if she acted like she didn't. Normally, you could literally see her trying her best to fight back a giggle, but this time she seemed more sensitive for whatever reason.

"Ah, Natsuki-"

Whatever half-assed attempt at an awkward apology you were about to come up with was interrupted, of course, by your ever-excitable mutual friend Sayori launching herself into the classroom with all the unrestrained joy of an elementary schooler, exclaiming, "Y/N! You're never here this early- and you brought snacks??"

Sayori leans too close into your personal space to inspect the muffins before deciding, "Wait, no- these look too good to be yours, I bet Natsuki-" She glances over her shoulder to see the baker in question and exclaims, "So you did make them! Hey, thanks!"

Natsuki, still attempting to recover from her previous flustered state, huffs, refusing to look at either of you two. "Y-Yeah, it's no big deal..."

Sayori is already reaching over to snag one of the muffins; you have no doubt in mind that she was the reason Natsuki made six treats instead of five.

You try to catch Natsuki's eye so you could feign some good ol' exaggerated exasperation with the way Sayori ate like such a child, and how tactless she could be, but the short girl was doing her absolute best to continue ignoring your entire presence.

Yikes, maybe you actually had seriously offended her... or maybe it was just something else entirely that had upset her so much...?

Before you had the chance to really think too much about what could be bothering Natsuki, the other members of the Literature Club arrived for the usual after school meeting, first Yuri and then shortly after Monika, both apologizing for being tardy even though they weren't that late at all.

"Oh, Natsuki brought snacks?" Inquires Monika as she notices the muffin tray you had set down on a desk a couple of minutes ago. "Let's all have them before we do any reading or discussions today."

Sayori beams at the club president's words, having already polished off her first muffin and now eager for yet another. You didn't blame her, Natsuki was a great baker, but sheesh, with the way Sayori had inhaled it, you wondered if she even tasted it at all.

You try yet again to send Natsuki a warm smile in the hopes of cheering her up somehow, but she was still steadfastly pretending you didn't exist, apparently, and so your efforts were futile.

Resigned to your fate, you help Monika push some of the desks together to form a makeshift table that everyone settled down at, each club member taking a muffin for themselves and starting to dig in.

"No complaints, Sayori?" You hum after the first bite when you realize what the flavor of these particular muffins is.

Your energetic friend is probably eating too quickly to really notice, as you originally suspected, and she simply blinks at you, confused.

"What do you mean 'complaints'?" Natsuki pipes up sharply, though her voice is wavering which makes you think she actually cares quite a lot about what others- maybe even you in particular- think of her baking prowess.

You shake your head defensively, chuckling a little. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's just, they're blueberry. Sayori can be such a kid sometimes, so I-"

"Do you not like them?" Natsuki snaps, making you wish, not for the first time, that you could finish a sentence around these girls.

"Ah- nono, I do! It's really good! I just was- uhm-" You struggle to find the right words to defend yourself under her heated glare. Why was Natsuki taking everything you said so personally today?

"Y/N was only joking," Monika, bless her soul, steps in calmly with the patience of a saint to try and smooth out the situation before it was given the chance to escalate any further. "You know how they can be."

Wow, okay, ouch.

You dramatically place a hand over your heart. "Why, Monika! You wound me." And honestly, there was a teensy bit of truth buried and hidden underneath your dumb joke. Just because you liked to cover up any feelings of discontentment in an effort to find the tiniest semblance of humor in just about any scene of life didn't mean you went around purposely hurting the feelings of those around you. Or... did you? Shoot, now you weren't sure anymore.

Sayori laughs out loud at your over the top display, and you notice even Yuri is trying to hide a smile behind her muffin, her violet eyes almost unnerving with the way they follow your every movement.

But you aren't really paying attention to any of them at the moment, so much so that you don't even process Monika's reply. Your focus is purely on Natsuki.

She's not glaring directly at you anymore, but down at her hands which are clasped together in her lap.

You clear your throat; being serious wasn't your thing, but you still wanted to give it a try- for her. Softly, in the hopes of not letting the rest of the girl's overhear your words, you begin, "Natsuki, I..."

"It is strange, though." Yet again you are interrupted! If it had been Sayori, you would have been openly frustrated with her, but this time it's Yuri's shy self who has at last decided to share something of her thoughts with the group.

A beat of silence. “What’s strange?” Monika prompts when Yuri doesn’t continue her train of thought.

The violet-haired girl jolts a little, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Ah- just that- uhm- I was just thinking… Natsuki usually bakes cupcakes for us instead of muffins,” she explains timidly.

Huh. Weird observation, but Yuri kinda had a point.

Natsuki stiffens, sending a scowl in Yuri’s direction. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze literally everything, y’know. Life isn’t always like one of your dumb novels where you have to make up deeper meanings for when one doesn’t exist.”

You exchange a swift glance with Monika- lately, you and the club president had sort of been tag teaming helping each other lately to diffuse conflict within the Literature Club. Most often, the offenders were the same as the ones now: Natsuki and Yuri. Monika’s method of smoothing over issues was calmly and kindly, whereas you tended to take a more comedic route where angry grumbles could dissolve into grudging laughter.

Since it was technically your turn to step in and try to solve some conflict before either girl burst into tears, you interject with the first set-up for a joke that pops into your head.

“Heh, careful, Natsuki. I think you might give Yuri a new idea for one of her poems.” You face the taller girl as you continue, “Here, I’ll help you with the topic- ‘muffins- are they just ugly cupcakes?’ Yeah, just throw in some fancy language and stuff and-“

You can tell by everyone’s expressions that you’ve made a misstep somewhere here in your delivery, but then Yuri reaches up with one hand as she tries to mask her smile, and you’re intensely relieved you didn’t hurt her feelings.

Somehow, though, it seemed someone else was hurt.

Natsuki stood up abruptly from her chair, the sound of it’s metal legs grating on the floor causing you to wince. “Can you be serious for once?”

She doesn’t wait for your response, just turns on her heel to grab her cute pink backpack and then stalk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Sheesh, what did I say….?” You sigh heavily, combing a hand through your hair. You were so frustrated with both yourself and Natsuki.

Sayori gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, already standing up to go check on Natsuki, but Monika’s timelessly intelligent emerald gaze was fixed on you with a thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years, and it did not move away from you when she spoke to Sayori. “No, let’s have Y/N go and talk things out with her.”

You cringe. “Won’t that just make things worse?” You worry, shaking your head. “I mean, call me crazy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an award for being her favorite person anytime soon, Monika…”

A faint smile crosses Monika’s face. “Mm, I think you’d be surprised. Just go and talk with her, and please hurry before you miss her. I’d hate to lose a club member, especially one as talented as Natsuki.”

You stand up, a bit alarmed by the assumption your club president was making here. What, just because of one little spat it was presumed Natsuki would quit the Literature Club altogether? That would never happen!

….Would it?

You weren’t keen on taking your chances of finding out, so you hastily made your exit from the classroom, looking around the school halls and seeing just a flash of pink disappear around the corner to your right.

You hurry after Natsuki, glancing around uncertainly- you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to roam the halls like this after classes were over, even if you were in a club. Plus, it seemed like Natsuki wasn’t actually leaving the school building at all, she was heading for the roof.

You don’t call her name for fear of being reprimanded by some annoying teacher or other staff, so you kept quiet as you trailed after your friend up some flights of stairs; if she was aware of your presence, she said nothing- you were mostly sure that she would’ve snapped at you to go away if she had noticed you.

At last you make it to the door that went out to the roof of the school building, which had just closed behind Natsuki. Tentatively, you push it open as quietly as possible and take a small peek outside to survey the situation.

Natsuki is sitting on a small bench with her back still to you, her attention apparently fixed on the horizon.

“Wow, they have benches up here?” You ask, finally making your presence known as you step out onto the roof and allow the door to drift shut behind you.

Natsuki starts, glancing back over her shoulder to see you, and her eyes narrow when you offer her a hesitant smile. “If you’re here to apologize, you can just leave.” Her voice is sharp, but you can sense that she sounds almost, defeated in a way.

You shrug, wandering over to sit down next to her, looking towards the sky. “Good thing I wasn’t planning on apologizing, then.”

She huffs, purposely scooting away from you so that she was right on the edge of the bench. “Look, what makes you think I want your company?”

“I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to explain what I meant for my own sake. My reputation and all that?”

She purses her lips together. “Go ahead then,” she mutters wearily.

“I never mean to offend you or anybody else with my jokes. I just kinda, joke around a lot, it’s not something I ever even think about doing, it just happens.” You pause, sighing dramatically as if the weight of the world has been taken off of your shoulders. “Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve held onto that secret. “So… now it’s your turn.”

At last the pink-haired girl looks at you, mildly confused. “My turn to do what?”

“Share a secret,” you clarify playfully.

Natsuki immediately shakes her head, a brilliant blush painting her cheeks. “Wh- never!”

You laugh. “Okay, alright, point taken. How about this then: how was your day?”

Natsuki calms down somewhat, apparently actually considering your question. You realize she seems… sad, somehow. “It was… whatever.”

“Did you bake the muffins this morning or-?” You ask idly.

“No, last night.” She pauses, glancing away again to stare at the sky, and you got the sense she was somewhere else in her memories, not fully present with you on this school roof now. “I was… going to decorate them this morning, but then I just. Had to leave.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those tardy students, aren’t you?” You tease as gently as possible.

She exhales in a long, frustrated breath. “For your information, I got to school a few hours early actually.”

You have very few puzzle pieces of this mystery to try and fit together, and you wish she’d stop being so- mysterious about this whole thing. You hadn’t noticed before today, but you knew very little about Natsuki, aside from the facts that she liked manga (probably anime too), baking, writing, the color pink, cute things… you didn’t know anything at all about her home life. You’re tempted to ask just why she was so early, why she couldn’t decorate the muffins, but just as you’re trying to work up the courage and the right words, she saves you the trouble.

“My father…” She trails off, sounding uncharacteristically insecure for once, and her eyes seem too-bright, as if shining with unshed tears. She’s being very vulnerable with you right now, and you’re intensely worried you’re going to mess it up with her somehow, so you keep quiet and wait for her to continue. “He…”

Her voice catches in her throat, not allowing her to continue.

Instantly you lean closer to rest your hand on her hand, causing her to flinch in shock at the unexpected touch.

She gives you a look like she wants to be angry, but at the same time, she’s not pulling away from you.

You really, really don’t want to see her cry. Not Natsuki, the strong-willed, determined, fierce Natsuki. You’re unsure how to comfort people, so you go with what you know best.

In a perfectly serious tone and a straight-faced expression, you say, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

For a second, you’re about 80% sure she’s going to slap you right in the face.

But instead, something miraculous happens.

Natsuki giggles, and as she does so, tears streak down her cheeks.

“Oh God- I didn’t mean to-!”

“No, no!” She cuts you off, tugging her hand away from yours and swiping at her face to try and wipe the moisture from her eyes, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re- you’re fine- I mean! Not you, I meant that, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine…” She pauses, and you think this is the first time Natsuki has ever gazed at you with such softness.

Have you really made her feel better? You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one. You would like to tell her that she can talk to you about anything anytime, or that maybe she can hang out at your house whenever she can’t stand being at hers, but she speaks before you can.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Your jokes are terrible.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. Despite the insult, you can definitely hear the smile in her voice.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Señorita

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: You finally get out of the city to spend a week in a beachside paradise - you’re entitled to a little getaway, you think, with your birthday coming up. When a handsome stranger hits on you at the bar, along with your birthday, some other things might come as well.   A/N: This was random? Came out of nowhere. Enjoy & let me know what you think x

Gif not mine

Timid waves crushed softly against the shoreline, white sand turning concrete gray at their touch. The warm breeze carried around a song you thought you recognised, but couldn’t remember from where. The beach-side bar basked in a gentle blush glow, so typical for the evenings here at Mallorca… You’d only arrived a couple of days ago, but already you couldn’t picture yourself anywhere else - just sitting here, at the bar by the turquoise sea, sipping on your Pina Colada in the shadow of the palm-branched roof. The wind brushed through your salt-stained hair from the entire day spent rolling around on the beach; mindful sun caressing your thighs, peaking from behind the slit in your deep emerald dress.

Tonight was relatively calm, you thought, twirling the straw in your cocktail absentmindedly. Ever since the English rugby team packed up their balls and other attributes and set out to sea, the place became peaceful.

You were glad. The entire point of this trip was to get out of the busy city for a while, enjoy the calm. If you wanted a testosterone-filled party for your birthday, you would have stayed in New York - Karen would throw a rave that would make Coachella look like a kindergarten gathering.

But that is exactly what drove you out of America and into this seaside paradise. If there was one thing you had trouble doing, it was working a crowd of people you barely saw in your everyday life, who only came for booze and dancing. Karen said she understood, and that the party would have been a small yet tasteful affair… you still fled.

Here’s to hoping that Karen wasn’t pissed at you for bailing, you silently prayed, throwing the straw on the bar and taking a gulp directly from the glass. Judging from the text Karen sent you earlier today, saying something about getting together for a celebratory meal when you got back to the city, you figured she wasn’t mad. She did say something about introducing her to a friend of Frank’s again, and having thrown the Karen plan for the party out of the window, you had to budge.

It’d been so long it had become a running joke between you two - Karen wanting to introduce you to that “handsome hunk”, with whom Frank had served. She was especially lyrical about his manners, his big heart and his beautiful smile.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Karen was head over heels for the guy.

Every time Karen made plans for a Sunday brunch or Saturday night drinks at Castle’s place with the sole purpose of introducing you to the Hunk, you always found an excuse to ditch. Sometimes it was an urgency at work, sometimes it was about something funny you ate the night before… You must have been dodging these “introductory date” attempts for at least five months now - and it all looked like after this get-away vacation, you’d have to face the music.

Well, it was worth it. A week of doing nothing, reading sappy novels and drinking high-end cocktails, that was what you craved for, and if you had to pretend to be interested in some nonsense a guy was trying to charm you with for a couple of hours, it was a small price to pay. With that thought, you finished off your Pina Colada and motioned for the sunburnt brown bartender to get you another one.

“Hola señorita.”

The voice was unexpected. Low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of power.

“Disculpe, ¿este asiento está ocupado?”

Slightly frowning, you turned your head to the right.  

Ever since the English rugby team settled in one of the villas, the women in the hotel found themselves outnumbered. It just so happened - what a coincidence - that you turned out to be their neighbour, your villa closest to theirs. Everytime you’d walk out of your temporary home to hit the bar or the beach, you’d spot at least three young men hanging outside of their quarters, their faces illuminating the minute they saw you. You’d give them a cursory smile back - you weren’t that cruel - but everytime one of them tried to approach you, you shot him down - often with a look, rarely with a verbal warning. Ever since they left, you was relishing the feeling of tranquillity - until he decided to burst your happy little bubble.

The first thing you noticed about him is that he wasn’t Spanish, despite the lack of accent. He had beautiful dark, almost black eyes, the colour of a freshly brewed espresso, that myriad of black and chocolate tones swirling in a whirlpool of tender curiosity. They held your depreciating stare well. The sun obviously loved him - those razor-sharp cheekbones glowed bronze as he tilted his head to the side a little bit. The wind caressed his dark hair, playing with the longer strands at the top.

Something about him was so familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on the beach before? You did stay at the same hotel after all…

Not in a slightest bit confused at your lack of answer, the man smiled.

His smile held a sort of a gentle surprise in it, like a summer day in a middle of October.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Je suis désolée,” you finally uttered, forcing your eyes to focus on his eyes again instead of his lips. “Je ne parle pas espagnol”.

His smile grew wider, much to your surprise. Instead of getting red in the face, stammering out some random apology as you expected him to, he nodded and motioned to the chair next to you with one hand, sliding the other one across the surface of the bar.

Despite your better judgement and against your utter dislike of aimless flirting, you found herself shrugging as you accepted her second drink from the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

Ah-ha. He’s from New York.

You sipped on your cocktail directly from the glass, ignoring the brand-new straw the bartender supplied you with in order to hide your smirk. As the man held two aristocratic, impossibly long fingers in the air, making his order, you took the time to study him.

He was tall, much taller than you. The plain white t-shirt that he wore betrayed the solid stomach muscles hidden under the cotton - the short sleeves strained as he gripped the back of the chair and slowly lowered himself onto it.

“Thank you,” he finally said to the bartender with a nod, gripping his glass with those downright pornographic fingers. Slightly pursuing his lips, the man turned his full attention back to you. When you arched an eyebrow at his antics, he flashed you a mischievous yet understanding look. “Ça tombe bien. Je me sens plus à l’aise en parlant français”.

That cheeky bastard.

Your first reaction was that of a sincere surprise. You were pretty sure that for a second there, your eyebrows almost reached your hairline. Upon catching the satisfied glint in these already all too familiar eyes, you wanted to feel irritated at the nerve of him, at the fact that he just happened to beat you at your own game. But you didn’t.

Biting hard on your bottom lip in order not to laugh, you took your glass and sipped, hard.

“While I’d love to know how many more languages the lady speaks, I would much rather learn her name”, he dropped nonchalantly, whirling his whiskey gently, the ice cubes cluttering against the glass.

The first comeback that crossed your mind was so filthy you couldn’t possibly go with it. The second one, however, was efficient and succinct.

“Diana, here’s a lady’s name.”

With a low chuckle, he let his head drop down for a moment. When he raised his eyes to face you again, your chest felt a little too tight and a little too fragile under his poignant stare - that of amusement, want and a clean cut awe.

His eyes had told you that this was more than a drifting attraction, that he was interested in so much more than your name…

You saw it, and for some nonsensical reason, chose to believe it.

“I don’t care about names,” there was such a determination to your voice that it surprised you. It didn’t startle him, though - he caught your every word as his eyes travelled from your fluttering eyelashes to the soft curve of your lips. “When there are so many more interesting things to talk about. Don’t you agree?”

As you turned away from him and took another sip of your drink, you heard him chuckle yet again, and saw him press a hesitant finger against his lips.

This was obviously new to him. This small treacherous gesture led you to believe that maybe he wasn’t one to pick women at bars, that, just like you, he felt that thrill of surrendering to the strange sort of attraction encircling you both.

“In fact, enough talking. Let’s focus on doing.”

What was it so special about him that made you decide? It’s not like there’s been no men before him, very much willing to break through your iron-clad facade, wanting you to take a leap of faith. Some of them had the potential to make you feel good, you were aware of that. Still, you didn’t want them.

What made him so different? A certain familiarity of his voice, his features, maybe? Or maybe you should just slow down, cut down on the alcohol, drink a glass of water and go back to your villa, alone.

The way his eyes skimmed your naked shoulders, a barely there sigh leaving his half-open lips sealed the deal.

You didn’t want to slow down.

Not with him.

“Here’s to doing then”, his Adam apple bobbed as he gulped down, his eyes darkening. He raised his glass towards you - a figurative shake of hands on the deal they just made.

“Here’s to doing”, you agreed, clinking your glass to his.

His villa was located at the outskirts of the hotel beach, backed by the rocks. It was a ten-minute walk from the bar, feet in the warm sand, the star-sprangled night sky over your heads.

Despite the silence surrounding you, save for the occasional gust of breeze carrying on the sound of music from the bar you just left, you didn’t feel awkward. A soft smile ghosted over your lips as you felt his careful touch at the small of your back - those fingers sliding down to the base of your spine, feather-like. He strode forward, adapting his pace so you could keep up - you weren’t even sure he was aware of that, the change in him so spontaneous, as if it were a force of habit. Like this wasn’t the first time you walked side by side.

You would blame it on the booze, but you drank a total of two cocktails.

He only had one whiskey before they took off.

The villa he chose to stay in was slightly more spacious than yours, and provided a lot more privacy - this told you a lot about the man you were about to sleep with. He was most certainly well off, for starters. He also came here to get his share of peace and quiet, much like yourself.

Guiding you through the doors, he turned the lights on behind you, his other hand never leaving your back.

The best way to describe the interior would be neat or crisp, with a large, perfectly made bed in the center of the space, surrounded by a bar, a hanging chair, a shuttered armoire, and a desk, that could be used both as a kitchen table and a bureau. It smelled faintly of vanilla and musk, with a sea-salt aftertaste.

“Make yourself at home”, he murmured into your ear, still standing behind you, his hand gripping your hip hard for a fleeting second. When the realization of his touch had settled in, and you were finally able to react, he was already at the bar, serving himself a whiskey.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He busied himself with the bottle for a moment; then he produced another glass from behind the bar, waiting on your answer. When you didn’t speak, he turned to face you again.

You did as you were told - kicking off your shoes, you stepped onto the soft wool rug. With your back to him, you slowly made your way to his bed. One you reached it, you couldn’t resist trailing your fingertips along its surface - the sheets were creamy and silk, smooth to the touch.

You stopped short of the head of the bed, throwing a look over your shoulder. He caught your gaze, frozen in place, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.  

“Why don’t you choose for me?” you offered, slowly lowering yourself on the bed, crossing your legs. “What do you usually serve them?”

The way his eyes narrowed at you ever so slightly almost made you smile. It looked like you’d struck a nerve.

Good.

“I wouldn’t know how to answer that question”, he said, his voice levelled, his stare unblinking. “I’ve never had an urge like that before”.

Well, fuck.

How many more times this man was going to run counter to your expectations?

And on top of everything, damn, he was good. A quick-thinker or a natural good-talker? Would you remain clear-headed for long enough to find out?

“What else would you like to know?” his voice grew huskier as he pushed the glass away from himself. He left it at the bar as he started your way, his pupils blown to hell.

“That all I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you at the bar is how soft your breasts would feel pressed against my chest? That I’ve been hard ever since you opened that sassy mouth of yours? Or that I would have jerked off to the memory of you for weeks if you hadn’t come here with me?”

God.

The tightness that had long since made home in your chest moved lower, lower, lower, until it sank into the pit of your stomach. At his words, involuntary, your thighs clenched together, restless energy buzzing in between your legs, your toes curling.

“Stand up”.

When your eyes focused back on your surroundings, you saw him standing a couple of steps away, his strong jaw clenching as he gazed at you, his arms folded on his chest. Breath catching in your throat, you pushed off the bed. Feeling dizzy all of the sudden, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, beautiful.”

Again, you did as you were told - you met his gaze head-on, and almost instantly regretted it. He was staring down at you with those black bottomless eyes, raw emotion flowing through him, filling the air around them, charging it to the brim. His hands fell down his sides now - so tense, the veins budged on his forearms.

It’s like he was pacing himself, keeping himself from touching you.

“Take off your dress,” he requested after a moment, watching you like a hawk.

Slowly, squeezing your thighs harder, harder still, you brought your hands to the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, before pushing them off completely.

The dress landed in a heap on the floor, leaving you in nothing but lacy panties - almost utterly naked under his stare.

You heard the softest groan escape his mouth as his hand snaked across his thighs and up to that bulge in his pants. When he squeezed his hand around it, his abdominal muscles flexing as he exhaled, you felt the moisture spread down your inner thighs.

With your heart pounding in your throat, you made a step towards him with your hand stretched out. Almost immediately you heard a low strangled noise, and saw the nah shining bright in his dark eyes.

“Not yet, beautiful,” he growled, taking his t-shirt off in one elegant motion. He then undid the belt on his pants, his eyes savouring every inch of your naked skin. “Play with your tits for me. With both hands.”

Your own touch burned as you carefully squeezed your nipples with your fingers. Throwing your head back, you moaned loud, unwillingly pushing your hips forward.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that.”

His words seemed to lift some sort of barrier, as you started to tug and pull harder at the nipples, alternating the movements with firm grasps around the swell of your breasts.

You were going to come.

You were going to come and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Now slide one of those hands down those panties. Rub that pretty pussy. Tell me how wet you are”.

You made peace with the fact that he was a talker - but now he had surely sat out to break her. His voice washed all over your body, sending goosebumps down your spine as you slid one of your hands under the underwear.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you gasped, staring at him. “Fucking dripping”.

His moan made your thighs tremble, your fingers slowly circling around your clit. Before you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, you saw him with one of his hands hidden in his pants, slowly jerking himself off, with slow, aborted motions.

“That’s it, caress that pussy for me. But go slow - tease it”.

You nearly growled at that. You knew you were close - there was a bundle of sensation, like a ball of electricity, building inside of you - two quick flicks of your index finger, and you’d be done for.  

“Jesus, please”, you stuttered out before you could realize you were actually begging. “I’m so fucking close, please…”

You rubbed slowly over the nerves, your fingers wet and slippery. Panting, you realized his name would have come in handy just now - if he had some sort of a praise kink, you could maybe easily get the release you yearned for.

“You are so beautiful, fucking yourself like that. Wish those were my hands. Or my mouth”.

Something flared at the very end of your clit, softly spreading all over her pussy. You moaned loud and unapologetic, your fingers moving faster as you tried to chase that sensation. You needed to grasp it, to ride it out, you fucking needed it!…

“Put a finger inside, beautiful”.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pumping fast and hard, you could feel your knees bending, your flesh begging for release.

“Come for me. Now.”

As if by command, the orgasm finally hit you - everywhere at once. It made your entire body shake as you screamed out, pussy clenching around your fingers. You barely registered you were falling down on your knees, when strong hands caught you at your hipbones, pushing you upright.

He was on you before you could come down from your high. His mouth hot and bruising against yours, you moaned, instinctively jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his feverish body.

His scent assaulted you - a clean, musky scent made your inside muscles clench, so you wiggled against him, wanting more.

He was so painfully hard against your core, you whimpered, pushing your hips against his, needing more friction, like an addict craving for a dose.

Sensing your need, feeling you, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and stepped onto the bed, setting you down on that same wooden headboard of the bed you’d almost stroke with your fingers.

Pushing your legs apart, he settled in between them. Before you knew it, his tongue lapped at your wetness, sliding up the length of your slit. Whimpering and moaning, you arched your back, burying your fingers in his hair, tugging hard. That made him growl, adding a slight vibration as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. He slammed his fingers - those fucking fingers - into you, and it took exactly two pumps for your second orgasm to roll over you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you moaned into the ceiling with everything you had.

Helping you slide down onto the bed with his hands guiding your hips, he gave you a piercing stare. The one that made you whimper, even though your eye-side was still fuzzy at the edges.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before he distanced himself from you - to take off his pants.

“I’m going to fuck you now - I’ll be gentle next time, right now… Right now I just need to bury myself in that pretty pussy of yours”.

“Fuck”, you moaned, propping yourself on the elbows, closing your eyes as you threw your head back. You didn’t know if you could handle more, but Jesus, did you want it. His cock stretching you wide.

You would not have been able to tell where he took a condom from - you didn’t even have time to contemplate on it. All you registered was a slight discomfort in between your legs before his huge cock pushed inside of you, inch by glorious inch. The stretch was almost too much, and you coughed out half a breath, half a moan as you tried to adjust to his size. Whatever sound you were about to let out next, as he slid out of you and pushed back in, to the hilt this time, it got lost in between your lips, as he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss.

Your nails scratched on his ripped back as he fucked into you shallowly, your teeth biting into the skin on his neck. As if not getting enough of you, he grabbed one of your thighs, flexing it, so he could thrust deeper.

The change of the angle had you swearing under your breath, and his mouth was there to silence you again, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

The third orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere - there was no gradual built, no buzzing feeling in your lower stomach - it crashed on you like a bucket full of ice, having you arching your back, clenching around his cock so fiercely, it snatched an orgasm out of him, as well.

“Fuuuuuck”, he breathed out, his hips slamming sloppily into yours. “So fucking good, fucking…”

Before he could continue, you rolled forward and put your mouth on him, swallowing his words. With his palm cupping your cheek, he deepened the kiss as his cock drained itself into the latex.

The kiss grew soft, your noses touching ever so slightly as you both slowed down, a mess of tangled limbs. Smearing his wet mouth against your nipples, he pushed up from you, sliding his cock out.

“I’d take that drink now if you don’t mind”, you told him, a lazy smile illuminating your features.

A low chuckle he let out echoed in your lower stomach.

“Sure, beautiful. How does a whiskey sound?” he offered, standing up in all his naked glory.

You hummed in approval as you leaned higher against the headboard. Biting your lip, you checked out his ass unashamedly, as he made his way to the bar, throwing the used condom into the garbage bin.

“I know there are some things that we’ve agreed on, but I’d much appreciate calling you by your name instead of beautiful when going down on you next time. What do you say?”

You heard whiskey splash against the walls of your soon-to-be glass. Your inner muscles clenched at the sight of him, naked, serving you a drink.

“It’s Y/N”, you said with a small smile.

“Billy”, he responded, making his way to you. As you reached out to take your glass of whiskey from him, he pulled his hands backwards, using your position to land his lips on yours in a stinging kiss instead. You responded hungrily, grabbing his head with both of your hands.

The night was still young, after all.

“Okay, so would you rather spent your life partying with rich assholes you barely know, still seeing your family and friends, or get stuck on a desert island with no opportunity to see anyone at all?”

You turned your head ever so slightly, feeling his muscles clench as Billy huffed out a breath.

You both laid naked on his bed, him propped against the headboard, you - with your head settled comfortably on his stomach. A half empty bottle of whiskey was getting warm against your bare thigh, both of your glasses laying empty next to it.

You had lost count of the times you came with his name a word of ecstasy on your lips. You were surely going to sport some hickeys on your neck tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

You had never felt so at ease with a man before. Granted, no man had ever managed to make you come three times in a row, but that wasn’t the point. Billy made you question your “no dating” rule, and not just because he fucked like his life depended on it. He just got you - whether it was your discomfort in big crowds, fear of subway, weird addiction to macarons or love-hate relationship with Paris. You just clicked - it was hard to believe you met mere hours ago.

Or maybe the fact that you only just met was the reason why you clicked. It certainly wouldn’t be the same in the long run. The rose-goggles period only lasted so long. When routine kicked in, it tended to crash everything in its wake.

“That’s a tough one”, he said, biting on the inside of his cheeks. “If I could invite people on my desert island, I’d definitely go with the second option.”

“Well, you can’t”, you smirked at him, and then stared back into the ceiling. “It’s either being constantly surrounded, or seeing no one at all”.

He hummed, considering the options.

“I can’t imagine being alone 24/7, even though you might have guessed already, I love being alone sometimes”, his fingers slowly caressed the soft skin under your breasts, as he voiced his thoughts out loud. “It’s funny how your mind works though”, you could hear a smile in his tone now. “With you, it’s either all or nothing.”

You thought for a moment, interlacing your fingers with his. Then you shrugged:

“Sometimes, I just want to get away, you know? See no one, speak to no one… I sometimes push people away, thinking it would do me good. But it doesn’t always have that desirable effect.”

When you stole a glance at Billy again, you saw him nod.

“I know what you mean”, he spoke quietly. “And I’m glad you didn’t push me away tonight”.

“Oh, I tried,” you assured him with a smirk. “You’re hard to shake off”, you let go of his fingers and pushed yourself up on your hands, so that your eyes were on the same level.

Billy chuckled, his lips stretching in that warm and wonderful smile.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be hard. Again. Point blank.”

You laughed quietly, dropping your gaze, your eyes traveling down his stomach and to that massive cock between his legs.

He was getting hard again alright.  

“What time is it?” you suddenly remembered, snapping your gaze around, searching for a clock.

“Quarter to four, why would you ask?” he told you, after checking his wristwatch.

You closed her eyes.

“It’s my birthday”, you said before you blinked at him in surprise.

In between all that dirty sex and orgasms, you lost track of time and completely forgot. Were you coming when the clock struck midnight? The thought made you giggle.

“Really?” Billy stared at you in disbelief before his dark cocoa eyes softened, and his voice dropped an octave. “Come here”.

Warmth spread all over your body at his words, your core the center of the growing tingling sensation. Billy used his hot hands to pull you closer, help you settle in his lap, your legs on each side of his hips. With his left hand he reached for the bedside table, pulling out yet another condom out.

“Would you like to put it on?” He whispered against the skin behind your ear, making your pussy tense. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, taking the foil packet from his hand. Tearing it up with your teeth, you slid the latex onto his throbbing cock, pumping him a couple of times for a good mesure. The noises Billy made were downright pornographic. You licked your lips.

With both of your hands on his naked shoulders, you slowly lowered yourself all the way down onto him, the sensation making you both moan this time.

“Just like that, beautiful”, he whispered softly in your ear, thrusting up into you.

You rode him slowly, arching your back, leveraging yourself on his shoulders. The position was so damn intense, and not only because that way Billy could thrust deeper, up to his balls. There was a strange sort of intimacy as he gripped your hips, helping you bounce slowly on his rock-hard cock - his cocoa eyes held a sort of intensity as he fucked into you. It made your heart ache.

“I fucking can’t get enough of you”, he confessed hoarsely. “Of that tight, wet, perfect pussy. Of your beautiful, smart mouth. All of you. Every fucking inch of you.”

His revelation combined with his soft, yet methodic thrusts was what toppled you over the edge. You came hard, your body protesting against all those orgasms Billy’s cock had already wrestled out of it. Speaking of him, he wasn’t too far behind either, gripping your hips and holding you down as he came.

His lips seemed to hold some kind of a promise as he kissed you gently.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful”, he whispered against your lips, his hot and ragged breath fanning over your skin.

You managed a tired smile, surging up to kiss him again, relishing the feeling of him inside of you still….

Surprisingly, New York welcomed you back with cloudless sky. It was still as busy as you remembered it, but something had changed. People seemed friendlier, streets - sunnier, summer - hotter. You caught yourself enjoying the city again now that you had come back well-rested from your week-long vacation.

Well-rested might have been a wrong word for it. More like satisfied. And taken care of.

After that night, you spent the two remaining days of her getaway at Billy’s villa - no strings attached. You two barely left the place. Never had you enjoyed a man’s company this much. You cooked together, swam together, made love together… Until it was over and done, and you had to go back to the real life again, tiptoeing on your way out so he wouldn’t wake up.

You stopped cold for a moment, a plat of appetisers freezing in your hands.

Did you just think made love? Well that was a slip of epic proportions…

“Daydreaming about your boy-toy again?” Karen teased her with a smirk, walking into the kitchen. “He must have been quite something”.

Oh that, he was. You couldn’t help but sigh as you put the plate on the table.

How many people Karen was expecting for the dinner exactly? It looked like Frank and her had cooked enough for the entire goddamn naval infantry.

“It’s been a week,” you said, shaking your head as if trying to make the thoughts about him fall out. “I guess I need some time to turn that page”.

“Who said that page needs turning?” Karen reasoned, putting two bottles of champagne on the table. “Didn’t you say he was from New York? You could keep on seeing each other?”

You didn’t even take a moment to think it over.

“Nah,” you shook your head, tugging at your silk top. “We didn’t talk much about our respective jobs, but he made it obvious he travels a lot, so…”

Catching Karen’s sceptic stare, you threw both of your hands into the air, waving them.

“I’ll see him when I’ll see him, and if I don’t…” you shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be then”.

You turned to face Karen again only to find out that her expression hadn’t changed.

“Uh huh,” the noise she made was her other way of saying bullshit. “Well, you do what you gotta do, but please play nice with Russo. I swear he is a perfect guy for you”.

You let out a chuckle.

“You know, I heard it so many times I’m actually starting to believe it”, you said.

As if on cue, you heard men’s voices in the corridor.

“So how was your getaway, then?” Frank asked casually, stepping first into the kitchen. “Wow, that looks amazing, ladies,” he commented on the table, winking at Karen.

Page blushed in response, making you roll your eyes.

You was about to make a side comment to your best friend, when your mind suddenly went blank upon hearing the stranger’s voice.

“It was great, perfect actually…”

A designer-shoes-clad foot appeared in the room.

“I just feel like I left a part of me there, I’m going to need some time to rea…”

…djust, your mind supplied as you stared at Billy, her Billy, standing across the room from you - fully dressed this time.

“Oh my God,” you barely whispered, your eyes big in your face, your chest feeling like it was going to collapse on itself.

Billy’s lips slowly parted in the widest smile you’d ever seen - he just stood there, like a man on whom the greatest happiness had been bestowed, and it rendered him speechless.

Karen looked at them both in confusion, until…

Until realisation dawned on her, and she chortled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her mouth.

“What’s… What’s going on?” Frank frowned, looking back and forth between Billy and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Hell yeah,” Billy finally spoke, his eyes never quitting yours as he closed the distance between you in four decisive strides.

Before you could even speak, he gripped your cheeks and dropped his lips on yours, as hot and burning as the sun back in Mallorca.

You moaned like you didn’t have a care in the world, pushing onto your toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you, beautiful”, Billy uttered between the kisses, his forehead pressed to yours. “You ain’t getting away so easily this time”.

You let out a soft laugh, inhaling his scent, and moved to kiss his lips again. 

[samstrugglingwithlife]

When He Hears His Reserved S/O Laugh For The First Time

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Oikawa, Kuroo, Daichi

A/n: So maybe I got a bit emotional. I’m single as all heck and I’m projecting on to my boys but listen... I just wanna live this fantasy and I bet you do too. Enjoy, I guess.

OIKAWA

Oikawa always tried, since before you two even got together, to elicit some form of laughter from you, but he never pushed too hard in fear that it would make you more distant or reserved around him.

You two were lounging in his room. You were propped on his pillows as he laid on your belly, both of you engrossed in your things. You were reading your new favorite novel while Tooru watched some re-runs of an old volleyball match on his phone.

It was all relatively quiet, save for the sounds coming from your boyfriend's phone until a loud and sloppy sneeze from Tooru jerked you out of your fiction fantasy world. 

"Gross," you grimaced. Oikawa pouted, "Y/N-chan! You can't go saying that about your boyfriend!" he sniffled.

"Grossykawa," you teased. This caused him to sit up and glare at you in mock offense. A sly smirk made its way on to his lips, "Am I really gross?" he asked teasingly. He snuck his fingers to your sides and wriggled them, tickling you. 

A loud cackle left your lips as you struggled to get away from his tickling assault, but before you could escape him yourself, his movement came to a halt.

He was staring at you wide-eyed, you realized that he was gaping at you because you had laughed. You became self-conscious; did he hate it, did you sound ugly, maybe he preferred when you're quiet?

"Again," he mumbled, his voice surprisingly soft and small. You blinked, "What?" 

Tooru leaned forward and laid his forehead against yours; your confused gaze met his intense stare. "Beautiful," he whispered. 

He pulled back and cupped your red cheeks; you were not used to such affections, no matter how much your boyfriend showered you in his love, you were always awkward, never really used to those actions and feelings. Tooru stared you straight in your eyes, then leaned forward and oh-so-gently kissed your forehead, "Please let me in your heart, Y/n," he begged. "You are," you mumbled a reply.

He hugged you as you laid, his arms around your shoulders, his body heavy on yours.

"I promise Y/N-chan that I will make you so happy that you'll always smile and laugh. I wanna hear you be happy. You're everything to me... I love you."

Okay so it wasn’t supposed to get emotional but hear me out! I was listening to sappy Ed Sheeran songs and maybe this happened unconsciously. Sorry ‘bout this but I’m crying because I just made myself soft with this shit up there. 

KUROO

Kuroo knew that you were a bit distant and reserved, and he had no problems with it. When you two first started dating, he let you know that he did not mind if you were a bit withdrawn, he would wait for you to open up to him at your own pace. You were appreciative of his patience and began showing him how much you cared in your own way; even if to others it seemed that you were simply never interested in your boyfriend, Kuroo knew otherwise.

If Kuroo had one desire, it was to make you laugh. He'd joke around with you, but the most he'd get out of you was either a smile and a shake of your head or a silent chuckle which you would hide behind your palm.

You showed up at the gym, waiting for your boyfriend to walk home with you after practice ended. You were allowed a seat next to coach Nekomata, your boyfriend waved at you before turning back to his junior Lev, and scolding him for God knows what.

"Extend your arms, you little shit!" he scolded. "How many times have I told you to extend your arms in front, in front of you, you blockhead?!" his face was pulled into an angry frown. "I'm not gonna let you go home, you half-wit bastard!"

Maybe it was his choice of insults, or maybe it was his angry tone or the way Lev was cowering like a lost kitten, you found it all too humourous and let out the loudest laugh. 

The moment the sound of your laughter hit his ears, Kuroo stopped functioning; he was frozen in place, eyes glued onto you, with a deep blush adorning his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to run to you and hold you tight, you were so adorable, but he had to resist, both for your sake and for his.

With much difficulty, he managed to control himself and carry on with practice. He didn't say anything but occasionally glanced at you and gave you literal heart eyes.

He didn't say anything even on your way home, that is until the two of you were standing at the threshold of your house did he speak "Y/N," he called, you hummed in response. He took both of your hands in his and smiled at you, "I think today was a good day". You blinked, "How? You literally almost had an aneurism yelling at Lev," you pointed out. 

He chuckled, "Yeah but I got to hear you laugh," you blushed and looked away. "Sorry about that," you apologized. Kuroo shook his head, "Don't be. I wanna hear more." 

You didn't reply, but you found your heartbeat flutter. "You know that I'm waiting for you, right?" he asked, his voice was gentle and soft. "I'll wait, as long as it takes, I'll wait."

Kuroo leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your cheeks before he turned to walk home.

DAICHI

Daichi never really minded that you were more reticent than others; he was just happy to be with you. He didn't mind when you only wanted to walk side by side rather than hold hands; he knew that you were dating him because you liked him. Just like Kuroo, he believed that you needed time to open up.

The day he heard you laugh, Daichi was head over heels in love with you.

You were at the gym. The boys were taking a short break, that's when your boyfriend approached you, the two of you were chatting idly. 

While Daichi was speaking to you, your attention turned to what was happening behind him. Suga had chopped Asahi on his side, the ace was clutching his side and moaning in pain.

This somehow struck your funny bone, and you giggled. Daichi blinked in surprise; the sound of your giggles was like music. He turned around to see what had caused you to react like that. Suga, having known you and your reserved personality, was also surprised to hear you giggle. 

He took it upon himself to make you laugh, and so he began punching the poor ace's stomach(rip Asahi). This caused you to double over and laugh, you were bent with your hands on your knees as you almost guffawed. 

Daichi's heart fluttered. The way your face looked so childish and charming, the beautiful sound of your laughter, everything made him fall so deeply in love with you that he had to literally control himself from engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug and peppering your face with kisses.

Unlike Oikawa and Kuroo he did not say anything, he simply joined you and laughed along with you. 

Once you calmed down and straightened up, Daichi simply fixed your hair that had gotten a little messy as you laughed. Before he let his hand fall to his side, he ran his thumb along your cheek, his eyes were full of love and admiration. You blushed deeply and averted your gaze; Daichi chuckled, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before going back to practice.

You didn't notice him and Suga exchanging looks. He nodded gratefully at Suga, while the setter flashed him a bright smile and a thumbs up.

For Daichi, this was a step forward. He did a small prayer in his heart that from here on out, you would keep opening up to him and that he would always have the pleasure of discovering new sides to you for a very long time, until the end.

[idy-ll-ique]

Didn’t Know Where Else To Go.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: violence, assault, death, mentions of smut at the end and curse words

Requested: Nope

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes- they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “...didn’t know where else to go...” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

Summary: Sebastian Stan: a mobster boss. Everyone in the city hated him. When he meets Y/N, a new bartender at his favourite bar, she makes it clear that she also doesn’t like him. What changes?

Author’s Note: Hey peeps! The aforementioned prompt is something I read on Tumblr and really liked it. So I decided to write a fic loosely based on it. I hope you guys enjoy this! (This has been in my drafts for a long time, I’m currently working on 2 requested fics)

---

Sebastian POV:

"Boss, there is someone at the door."

"Send them in," I commanded, looking up from my book. The person who walked in with him was… instantly recognizable. My jaw dropped— she had been crying. Her pupils were dilated, she was taking short, fast breaths and her voice was frail. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't know where else to go."

With that, she did the most YA-Novel-Female-Protagonist thing she could do— faint.

It all began 7 months ago. The person who was at the door was Y/N Y/L/N, a bartender at one of my favourite bars ever in the city. The thing is, when we first met, she hated me. Let me take you back 7 months.

Flashback:

I entered the bar, smirking when everyone turned to look at me. They looked away just as quickly, their voices becoming hushed. I looked around, stopping when I saw the bartender. Whoa, this was someone new and damn was she cute. Smiling, I walked over and sat down in front of her.

"Hey, was— oh. What will you like, sir?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Come on, why does everyone do the same thing? What is it about me?" I joked, winking. "Um, the fact that you're a fucking mobster and have been terrorizing the city for the past few years and would kill anyone if they question you? Uh, I don't know, actually," she snapped.

I froze. The woman seemed to really hate me. Here I was, thinking if I buttered her up enough she'd come home with me. I told her my order and looked away from her. "So, why here?" she asked me as she prepared my drink. "I really like this place, I've been here before loads of times. I don't plan to stop," I shrugged.

"Ugh, just my luck," she mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Look, you don't have to be fucking rude, okay?" I retorted. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Shoot me? That's what you like to do, right? Kill people. Innocent people, let me be precise. No wonder everyone in the city except your goons hate you."

With that, she slammed my glass on the counter and stormed away from me, going to serve another customer. I was left staring at the glass, my figure shaking with repressed anger. She knew damn well I never laid hands on innocent people. No one in the city hated me.

Or did they?

The shaking stopped. What if she was right? I mean, she was much closer to the civilians than I was, what if they all hated me? "Uh, excuse me," I called out, hating how my voice cracked slightly. She glanced at me. "What do you want?"

"Answers."

"Ask the questions first," she huffed. "Does… does everyone really not like me?" I asked her. She stopped cleaning the glass, set it down and looked straight at me. "Yes. They don't like you. You're a mobster boss, dude! Have you seen films with mobster bosses? All of them, evil as hell. See how everyone in the bar became quiet when you came in?"

She had a point. "You know I would never lay a hand on innocent people," I defended myself, glaring at her. "Look, I'm sorry but we can never be too careful. What if you snap one day? What if you go rogue? Everyone lives in fear. They're afraid of you. And it's not like I can change everyone's mindset all at once."

"I guess you're right," I muttered, downing my drink in one go. "Hey, Mr Stan?" I looked up. "Y/N Y/L/N. I shouldn't have snapped at you," she apologized quietly, holding her hand out. "Doing this to get onto my good side?" I teased and she laughed.

"Come on, man! Doing this to show people you're not all you seem to be." I took her hand and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Y/N." She nodded and went back to cleaning the glasses. "Can I get one more drink?"

"I hope you didn't drive here." 

"I came on foot, actually. My house is just down the block." She gasped, startling me. "Mr Stan, giving your address away to strangers? How irresponsible of you!" I couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I trust you to not do anything bad." I spent another 2 hours there, chatting with Y/N.

She was a really fun person to be around. She had completed her education but was searching for jobs. In the meanwhile, she had decided to work here. 

By the time I was done drinking, I was too tipsy to even walk. "K, I'm goin'," I slurred, standing up. "Mr Stan, don't— oof," Y/N hissed as I fell off the chair in my intoxicated state. She rushed around the bar and helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You can't walk in this state."

"I need to go home," I whined. "As it turns out, you've stayed long enough and now it's closing time. Let me get my coat." She dumped me on the chair and went to fetch her coat. I admired her from afar. 

She wore a mini-skirt that was flirtatiously snug around her thick thighs and a tank top. When she wore the coat, it extended past the skirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was looking very sexy in the dim light. "Damn," I whispered under my breath, smirking.

When she returned, she helped me stand. I draped an arm around her shoulder and we stepped out of the bar. "Okay, which direction?" I pointed to the right and we proceeded to walk. "Have you ever gotten this drunk before? Because it's obvious you can't handle booze."

"Not really, I usually have to stay sober for my job. We need real intellectuals in the mob biz, you can't have drunk idiots running a mob," I laughed, finding it hard to keep myself upright. Shouldn't have drank so much…

"Right now, sir, you are a drunk idiot," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, I will take that as a compliment. Plus, you can just call me Sebastian, it's okay." She shook her head and silence fell between us. "Tell me when we're there," she spoke quietly as I felt a headache coming.

"Being drunk sucks," I pouted, "I'm not even having a good time! It hurts everywhere—" "Probably because you fell off the chair." "—and my head hurts! I don't understand why people like to be so drunk." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You are seriously reminding me of my ex-boyfriend. He couldn't handle drinks either and I always had to babysit him when he got back home drunk," she muttered. "You can babysit me anytime!" I said cheerfully. "You're drunk, Sebastian, stop flirting with me."

"But you're so cute."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you."

"And se— we're here! That's my house!" She stopped in front of my house and rang the bell. "Is anyone at home or do I have to tuck you in?" she joked. "Nah, my best buddies and right-hand-men live with me. One's name is Chris—" Just at that moment, Chris opened the door.

"Wha— Sebastian? Are you drunk?"

"Sorry sir, I didn't know he couldn't handle drinks. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new bartender at Red Tavern." With that, she passed me to Chris. "Thank you for bringing him home, Ms Y/L/N. It's not your fault he got intoxicated, he should've known when to stop. He didn't cause trouble, did he?"

"Oh no, of course not, sir. He's fun to be around," she commented, gesturing towards me. I grinned. "Please, he's really not, you don't have to lie. Anyway, thank you so much again! Do you want a lift home? I can ask Anthony to drive you home." 

"That would be great, thanks. My house is in the opposite direction, it's a bit far…"

"Absolutely no problem. Anthony!" 

A few minutes later, my other friend, Anthony Mackie came downstairs, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah— oh, Sebastian is— damn." He tried to hold his laughter in. "Yeah. While I get him to his room, do you mind dropping her home? That's Y/N, she brought him home." Y/N waved at him.

"Of course, I don't mind. Thanks, Y/N, for taking care of our boss." She shook her head, waving her arms in dismissal. "Absolutely no worries, sir." They walked away, closing the door behind them. "She's cute, right?"

Chris blinked at me. "You have a crush on her!" he guffawed. "Duh, man. Did you even look at her? Girl was oozing sexiness," I smiled in fond memory. "Okay this got weird fast, I'm just gonna take you to bed." He got me to my room, placed me on the bed and left.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

End Flashback.

"Y/N!" I yelled, jumping out of my seat to catch her in time. "Get a suite ready," I barked angrily at a few people, who immediately ran in fear. "And you, get me some water and a blanket." The person nodded shakily and ran out of the room. I picked Y/N up and carried her to the couch, laying her down. I sat next to her, checking her temperature.

Oh no, I needed a doctor. I took out my phone and called my personal practitioner but before I could speak, Y/N coughed. "Y/N," I whispered, cutting the call. "Sebastian, it hurts," she moaned. "Don't worry, doll, I'm calling my doctor. Stay here tonight."

"I don't have anywhere else to go." I froze. "Your house?" I asked. "That's… that's where I got attacked. I can't go back," she cried. "Wait, just— just take rest, we'll talk when you're better. Get some sleep, I'm calling my doctor." I called him again, glancing at Y/N when she took my other hand and closed her eyes. 

I chatted with him for five minutes; he said he'd take half-an-hour to get to my place. "Damn it," I grumbled, keeping my phone on the table. Just then, one of my servants returned with the glass of water and the blanket. I thanked her and she left the room, so it was just me and Y/N.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you please get up for me?" She opened her eyes. "What?" Oh God, she was getting weaker. "Have some water." As soon as I held the glass of water in front of her, she freaked out. Screaming, she pushed the glass out of my hand and it fell to the floor with a 'clang', the water spilling everywhere.

"No, no water, no… no…" She sobbed, pulling at her hair. "Okay, okay, no water! No water! Y/N, calm—" I grabbed her hands and clutched them in mine. She stopped sobbing; looked at our hands and then at my face. I brought her hands to my lips, softly kissing them. "No water. It's okay, Y/N, you're safe with me."

"Safe," she breathed heavily, "That's what he said to me before he poisoned me!" Who was he? Okay, she was getting insanely paranoid now… "I'm not like him, Y/N, I don't wanna hurt you," I whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes, you are! You both can't handle drinks!" she yelled, her tears beginning to flow once more. "Wait." My nostrils flared. Her ex-boyfriend, he harmed her? "Y/N, please, this is not good for your health, why don't you try to calm down? Breathe, baby girl, please," I pleaded.

She seemed to momentarily come to her senses. "Sebastian…" Without warning, she sat up and flung herself in my arms. And for once, I didn't mind holding her close. "You're okay with me. I'm not him. I am not going to harm you, Y/N, trust me," I mumbled into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I trusted him," she sobbed, "And he tried to kill me." This time, my anger won. I vowed to myself, if I don't kill her ex boyfriend in the next 24 hours— "I am nothing like him. We may have one shared trait," I rolled my eyes at its stupidity, "But I am nothing like him. For once, I wouldn't harm you even in my dreams."

Her sobs started to subside. "That's it, doll, don't cry. I'll keep you safe. Even if I die trying, I'll let no harm come to you." For 7 long months, I missed her. I missed her a bit too much. Every waking moment of mine was spent thinking about the beautiful bartender.

She was in my dreams. She was constantly on my mind. I longed for the moment when I could meet her again and ask her out. Alas, that time never came. 

A week after we met, I had to go to Romania for some important work. I spent three months there and when I was back, Y/N was no longer working at the bar. She found a new job and I had no way of locating her anywhere.

I knew Anthony dropped her home that one time but when I asked him, he told me she had asked him to drop him off somewhere else. From there, he said, she was going to walk alone. He offered to drop her home again, but she refused. Having no choice, he returned without knowing where she lived.

That resulted in me not knowing where she was. I was heartbroken and told myself to stop thinking about her. I became more and more engaged in work, I became moody, temperamental and cold-hearted. Everyone started fearing me more now.

And I finally saw what Y/N meant.

What if you snap one day?

That day was closer than I thought. Even though I became a much more accomplished mobster, there was one thing I couldn't do even if I tried— forget about the love of my life. 

"Seb, it hurts." I was brought back to the real world. "What hurts, baby girl?" I whispered, pulling her closer. "Head. Stomach. Legs. Arms. Heart." I smiled sadly at the last word. "I'll help you heal, Y/N, you don't have to go anywhere until you're better." She nuzzled into my neck. "I'd like that."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out, it was probably the doctor. Sure enough...

"Mr Stan? Oh, you have a guest." I tried to shift to make space for the doctor, but Y/N whimpered. "It's okay, Mr Stan, she clearly feels safer with you here." I placed Y/N on my lap, covering her with the blanket. "This is my friend, Y/N," I spoke fondly, though I really wanted to add 'girl' in front of 'friend'.

"Nice to meet you, dear, I am Dr Greenwood." With my help, he quickly ran some tests on her. "Hm, she has a fever, her heart rate is very fast and that's not good. Is there any other problem you're facing?" She nodded. "Headache and stomach ache."

"She claims to be poisoned," I added. "Oh dear me! I need to run a blood test, will you be so kind as to extend your right arm?" She did as he told her and he quickly took some blood. "Will she be fine?" I asked worriedly. 

"Well, she seems to be doing okay currently, which means the poison hasn't affected her yet. How about I get back to you by the morning? Just keep an eye on her and if something happens, bring her to the hospital."

"Okay, doc. Thank you." He nodded and got up. "Bye!" Y/N called out weakly; he smiled at her and left, closing the door behind him. "You've got to tell me everything, doll," I whispered, putting her down on the couch. She lay down and I sat on the floor near her head.

"Okay, I will tell you. It was a few hours ago," she began quietly, "I was at home, watching the seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine when someone rang the bell. When I opened the door, my ex burst into the room forcefully. He pushed me."

My breathing sped up. "He pushed you? How dare that asshole—"

"Let me finish?"

"Go ahead, love, I'm sorry."

"Right, so he was very very drunk. And he was talking about how I broke his heart by breaking up with him and how he was so mad at me that he wanted to kill me. In front of me, he popped open the bottle of beer with him and poured an entire bottle of poison in it! An entire bottle! Then he attacked me and pinned me to the couch, forcing me to drink the poisoned beer."

"How did you escape?" I whispered. "By kicking him in the balls. Unfortunately, I ended up gulping down a sip and panicked. Seeing no other choice, I pushed him as hard as I could and he collided with the table. He hurt himself and became unconscious. I ran out of the house to the first place I could think of— here."

"I'm glad you came to me, Y/N, you'll be perfectly safe here. Our security is top-notch," I chuckled. She smiled, too. "Where are Chris and Anthony?" she noticed. "They're in Romania. They decided to stay back."

"Wait, that's where you were this whole time? You didn't come to the bar again and until then, I found another job so I quit. I thought you would never come back. I missed you a lot," she pouted. "I missed you, too. I was actually in Romania for 3 months and when I came back, I couldn't find you. I didn't even know where you lived, I didn't know where to look."

"What matters is now we're back together again!" she squealed. "You should rest for a while," I muttered, running my fingers through her hair. I checked the time, it was almost 2 am. Laughing when she yawned, I sat up. "I guess I should."

"Come, I'll take you to your room." I stood up with Y/N still in my arms. "I don't wanna be alone," she worriedly spoke, "What if he's awake and comes looking for me and finds me here?" 

"No one is finding you here," I sighed, "I'll stay with you, okay? Just tell me your address." Without thinking, she narrated her entire address and looked up at me with sleep-hooded eyes. I walked into the suite my people had readied for her and placed her down on the bed.

"I'm right here, just relax and try to sleep," I crooned, running my fingers through her hair. She immediately closed her eyes, which relieved me because she was listening now. When her soft snores filled the room, I heaved a breath and got up. Covering her with a blanket, I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

---

"This is the place," I spoke to myself, stopping my car under the building. I got out and entered, taking the elevator to the sixth floor where she lived. When I reached her apartment, I noticed that the door was still open. I walked in, my gun ready as I looked around the place. Wow, Y/N maintained this place well.

I searched every room thoroughly, starting with the living room, then the kitchen and then the two bedrooms. Shit, did the asshole leave? Y/N told me she left him in the living room. I was about to leave when I heard belching coming from one of the bathrooms. I opened the door to the one closest to me, only to see someone puking in the toilet.

"Ew," I whispered and he looked up. "What the fuck—" He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the toilet paper, "—are you doing here?" I realized he was still under the effects of heavy drinking. "Y/N told me everything," I sneered, hiding my gun behind my back.

"She knows you? Pfft, I knew she was a whore, why would she leave me for a goddamn mobster? Everyone in the city hates you," he jeered back. "Um, why don't you consider this? You're an abusive and possessive asshole and Y/N left you because you obviously were treating her badly?" I snapped.

"Don't get smart with me," he snarled, taking out a knife from his back pocket. "Oh," he snorted when I glanced at the knife, "Yes, I came prepared to cut that bitch up if she tried to fight back." The language he was using to describe Y/N was getting to me now.

"Enough!" I stated firmly, so firmly that even he paused. "I will not have you talking about Y/N like this, you are crossing a line." He returned to laughing. "Care too much about one of your sluts? What is she, your girlfriend?" Okay, he didn't have to rub it in…

"I said—'' I whipped out the gun and pointed it at him, "—enough. If you don't stop badmouthing Y/N—" He interrupted me again by laughing. "Of course, you're gonna shoot me. You like to murder innocent people, that's all you are! A bloody, fucking cold-hearted murderer! Y/N would never leave me for a guy like you! She is your slut!" he spat.

"Are you listening to yourself?! You tried to fucking kill Y/N because she couldn't put up with your abusive ways and your disturbing habits! I do not kill innocent people and I don't plan on killing them ever," I growled, "However, I do make exceptions for abusive boyfriends who treat my friend wrong!" 

With that, before he could retort, I fired three bullets at him. All three hit him in the chest and I watched as he fell against the floor, instantly dead. Some of his blood sprayed on my clothes and face, which made me scrunch up my face in disgust. But as I watched his lifeless body on the floor, a smile bloomed on my face. 

Y/N was safe.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror, washed my face and decided to go back. But before I could, I realized that Y/N would be spending some time with me and would need her necessities. So before leaving, I packed two full-sized travel bags with her clothes, electronics, footwears, toiletries and sanitation products; anything I deemed necessary for day-to-day living.

Soon, I left the apartment with the bags to go back to Y/N.

---

"Seb?"

I looked up from my book as Y/N sat up, yawning and clutching her head. "Y/N, the results came back, you're going to be fine," I told her happily, sitting down next to her. "Really?" A smile bloomed on her face. "Yes! Dr Greenwood said you didn't swallow too much poison and that you will most likely excrete the amount you swallowed." She nodded.

"That's great news! I'm glad he brought one of those cheap poisons instead of the deadly ones," she giggled. Just his mention made my temper snap. "Oh, don't even talk about that jerk," I snarled, "I took care of him last night and now he won't be bothering you anymore."

She blinked at me. "You killed him, didn't you?" she deadpanned and I blushed. "I mean— I didn't—" I stammered but gave up when she raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I killed him," I muttered, looking at my lap. When she placed her hand on my cheek, I turned to look. "I'm not mad at you. Bitch had it coming."

I burst out laughing at her word choice, which made her smile, too. All of a sudden, she leaped up and wrapped her arms around my neck, catching my lips in a kiss. I stopped laughing and put my arms around her waist, kissing back. Had this just happened? Was she kissing me?

"I love you, Sebastian," she murmured upon pulling away, straddling my lap. I kept the book away and pulled her closer. "Really? I love you, too." She snorted. "Kinda obvious, you killed a man for me. I wasn't going to make a move on you but now I'm sure."

"Hm, my intelligent sweetheart," I grinned, leaning forward to kiss her again. The problem was solved and all was well. "What are your plans for the day?" she asked me, trailing a finger down my face, jaw, neck and chest. "Hm, don't have any," I smirked, pulling her closer.

"Wanna stay and… have some fun?"

"Boy, do I?"

Y/N laughed loudly as I flipped us over, laying down on top of her. Her laughs soon transitioned into moans as I attacked her neck and jaw with kisses.

We did have fun.

A lot of it.

A bit too much of it.

But who cares?

I was finally with the love of my life and everything was good.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 4

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 4

-----

The next day, Marinette woke up in her bed, still dressed. By the time her father brought her into her room, she was already asleep. The emotions finally caught up with her somewhere along the way. Remembering the end of the evening, her eyes immediately latched onto her finger, but the ring was not there. A mere second before a panic attack, she looked at the bedside table, where both the box and the ring rested. She let out a breath. She didn’t lose it. 

“Morning cupcake,” a voice startled her. “Are you okay?” Her father was looking through the repealed doors. 

“Yeah… Did yesterday really happen?”

“We are still at Wayne Manor and I seem to remember to have put the ring on the night table.” 

“I can’t believe he actually proposed!” Marinette jumped off the bed and started to pace around with a dreamy look on her face. “I mean I know we are married, but it was still so romantic! And in front of so many people! Oh, Papa! I’m so happy!” She fell back onto her bed. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, cupcake. Remember that your Maman and I will always be here for you.” His smile took a sadder shade. “I know you’re almost a grown-up with a job and all, but to us you will always be the same little girl that I used to fit in the palm of my hand.” 

“Don’t worry Papa. I won’t forget you and Maman.”

“Good. Now let’s go open the presents! Race you!” He ran out of her room and toward the big tree in the hall. Mari giggled at her father’s antics before following him; the ring shining on her finger. 

In the back, Tikki floated with a big smile on her face. Her chosen finally had a chance for some happiness. If only that ruddy alley cat did not run away with the miraculous. She could still feel Nooroo and Duusu active. She could wait one more day before telling Marinette though. The girl deserved a peaceful Christmas.

---------

By the time Marinette arrived by the tree, most of the people were already gathered. Dick was seated in a large armchair next to a pile of gifts. He was dressed in a full Santa Claus outfit, complete with a fake beard. The only reason she recognized him was because of his voice.

“Now that everyone’s here, who wants…” He started, but someone interrupted. 

“Before that, I need to apologize.” Johnathan Kent turned toward Marinette. “Yesterday, after you left, I made some unsavory accusations about you, for which I want to deeply apologize.” Just for a second, his eyes jumped toward Sabine. The girl noted that her mother was glaring at the older man. “I’m a simple man and this… secret world you all live in is strange for me. Please, accept my sincere apology.” 

“Oh… No problem Mr. Kent. To be honest I’m still getting used to it all myself.” She smiled at him. Marinette was not that oblivious not to guess what kind of accusations the older man had made. 

“With that out of the way, I think we can get started. Maybe let’s begin with the youngest?” Dick said, trying to imitate how the real Santa Claus would sound. Marinette would admit that he was close.

“Me! Me!” Mar’i started floating in the air until Jon pulled her gently to the ground. He really got into the ‘older brother’ role. 

“Yes, you, sweetheart.” 

Mar’i received several gifts from the pile. Marinette was surprised to see one from her family. Inside were several baked goods from their bakery. She didn’t remember her parents packing any, but maybe they made them here.

“Me next!” Jon was giddy. His pile of gifts was slightly smaller, but there was a box of sweets there too. 

After that, it was Marinette’s turn. She received probably even more than Mar’i. There were also gifts from her Nona, grandfather, uncle Wang, one without a name tag that she was pretty sure came from aunt Sandra, a giant box from Chloe, and a small one that she had no idea who sent her. It was wrapped with a paper with black cats that would look better somewhere around Halloween, but she was too distracted to question it. Damian was busy arguing with Jon about whether he would get the Kryptonite knuckle dusters or not. 

She started with the largest box that Chloé sent her. Inside, there was a giant chest filled to the brim with detective novels and a letter that she chose to read when she was alone. Next was the gift from her uncle, which turned out to be an intricately decorated stone bowl for mixing ingredients. 

Her grandfather got her a beautiful rolling pin made half from cherry wood and half from solidified resin. The resin was in dark green color that reminded her of Damian’s eyes. But Roland had no idea about that, did he…?

Many gifts were some nice fabrics, a gift card to Gabriel, which she was tempted to burn as soon as she got it, but out of politeness just put it back into the box for now. Finally, the gift from aunt Sandra contained a set of beautiful daggers, a Katana, and a hairpin that had a space to pour poison inside. 

Her parents gave her a new rope dart, this time with a sharp end that she could use in combat. The line it was attached to was made from titanium-carbon alloy that would be able to withstand point-pressure of at least two tonnes. The weapon itself was practical instead of good-looking. The blade was thick, looking a bit like a diamond. The edges were sharp and the tip very pointy. The grip of the weapon was wrapped in a red cord for a more comfortable grip. Mari thanked them both before pocketing the weapon into her bag for now. She would probably fashion a better place for it.

Finally, only one box remained. The mysterious cats. Mari was about to open it when Jon noted it and leaped at her. The bow came undone the moment he covered the small box with his body. Everyone waited, watching carefully what was going on.

Nothing happened.

“Tt. Kent? Mind explaining to us why you decided to smash my Angel’s gift?” Damian glared at him.

“Um… I might have accidentally scanned it. You don’t want to see what’s inside. I definitely don’t want to see what’s inside ever again,” he shuddered. 

“Show me,” Sabine demanded. She picked up the squashed box and opened the top before closing it. A small lighter made its way into her hand and before anyone knew better, it was aflame. Seeing people staring at her, she smiled. “Nothing to worry about. It was a terrible prank.” She wrapped the now-charred remains and some vaguely straight shape into the torn paper. 

“What was this Maman?”

“A very distasteful prank.”

Marinette looked at the shape in her mother’s hand and her blood suddenly ran cold. It was shaped like a knife. The knife.

“No… He knows?! He can’t know!” She panicked, but Damian quickly pulled her closer to him, immediately soothing her some. 

“No, Sweetie. That bastard thought he would appease you by offering a painting of a stabbed Ladybug.” Sabine’s expression was heralding God’s wrath.

Jason growled. “He is sick.”

Next to him, Tim muttered so that only Stephanie could hear him. “You gave B. a crowbar on your first Christmas back…” Superman heard it too, judging from his reaction. 

“So what now?”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we won’t be coming back beyond ‘appearing’ at the airport when your class is scheduled to leave. I still can’t believe how incompetent your teacher must be to force you to travel with them.”

“I know it might sound stupid, but I think you will be safest in Gotham City.” Lois offered. 

Mari nodded sharply before cuddling into Damian. “Don’t worry, Angel. I will protect you.” He reassured her while hugging her close to his heart.

“I can protect myself.” She huffed but didn’t reject his hug. 

“That I don’t doubt.”

“There is a good chance he won’t be able to reach you in Gotham anyway. He is just one kid, which will make crossing the border much harder for him.” Stephanie pointed. 

“He has his daddy’s money. That will probably be enough.”

“Let’s hope not. I will send the warning to the border control that he might be trying to enter the country, but that’s the best I can do.” 

“Meanwhile I will go check if my guns are working…” Jason tried to leave, only for Tim to grab the back of his jacket and pull him back into place.

“There is no point worrying for now. Let’s just enjoy Christmas.” Sabine nodded for everyone to return to gifts. When no one was looking at her, she pulled Jon to the side and placed the knife paper on the stone floor. They didn’t speak, not to start another drama, but the boy understood. A short heat-vision later the knife was no more than a piece of smoking paper and molten steel.

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

A blonde boy walked toward the terminal. He was dressed in a light gray long-sleeved dress shirt underneath a dark gray vest. He also sported a black necktie, dark gray dress pants, and black dress shoes. His hair was combed back, adding to the impeccable look. The green eyes swept over the guards as they observed him closely. He presented the passport.

He noted that it took them longer than it should. His eyes fell on the wanted poster next to the guards. 

“I’m not my idiotic cousin if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Ah… Um…” The guard that was speaking to him was clearly confused. 

“Really? Ugh! That idiot decided to play supervillain and suddenly I have to suffer for it! I am not Adrien Agreste.” He ruffled through his bag, not caring that several guards almost drew their weapons. He finally pulled out a magazine with him and Adrien standing side by side, modeling for Gabriel. When side by side, the difference in their styles was even more pronounced.

“Apologies, mister. You must understand thought…” The man started to back-track.

“Yeah yeah. Spare the prostrating.” He dismissed the guard and walked past the checkpoint. Once he was out of the hearing range, he grinned. “It’s not you that I want to see on the floor…” He whispered omniously. 

-----------

Marinette and Sabine arrived through a portal five minutes from the airport, with ten minutes to spare before class was scheduled to meet. The two did not carry any luggage so they would get past the customs much faster. An upside to having all your things brought through a magical portal the day before. 

The airport was buzzing with activity. Marinette and her mother quickly got past the checkpoint and met with Chloé, who awaited them eagerly. 

“Dupain-Cheng! How was Christmas with the Waynes?” She asked in a hushed voice, so the class didn’t hear her. 

“Well…” Mari grinned before showing the blonde her ring.

“What? Now that’s what I call a good Christmas gift.” 

“How did you like the belt?” Marinette asked. In response, Chloé showed her that she was already wearing it. It was white with some golden glitter around the elegant buckle. There was a barely visible MDC logo etched on the buckle. The designer worked on it for some time before repurposing it as a Christmas gift. She had to cut on the glitter decorations, but in the end, the more minimalistic design appealed to Chloé. 

Sabine watched the two girls talk. A year ago, the woman wouldn’t believe her eyes if Marinette and Chloé acted this friendly. Now though, they were cute. 

“Did you get my gift?” The blonde asked impatiently.

“Um… Yes. The books are great.” 

“What was under the books!” The girl whispered, hoping to avoid Sabine’s watchful eye and ear.

“What?” Marinette looked surprised and Chloé had to resist the urge to facepalm. 

“Honestly Dupain-Cheng! You’re ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

And then the mood was broken when the rest of the class found them. 

“Good morning Marinette.” Madame Bustier greeted the girl. “Sabine.” 

The older woman did not return the greeting. “It’s Madame Cheng. We are here in the role of chaperones.” She almost seethes. “Let’s keep at least the illusion of professionalism.”

“Um… right. Moving on kids!” The slightly embarrassed teacher declared. 

“She is just as bad as Maribrat,” Alya muttered to Lila when she thought Sabine couldn’t hear her. The glare she received in response made it clear she made a mistake in her judgment.

After they got to the plane, people started to whisper when Chloé and Marinette didn’t join them in the economy class where they had their tickets. Instead, the two left for the first class. 

“Why aren’t they joining us!?”

“Because Chloé’s father paid for hers and I can afford mine.” Marinette normally would be against such blatant flaunting of wealth, but she couldn’t stop herself from rubbing it a bit into them that she earned the luxury. 

“She probably…” Kim suddenly lost his ability to speak when he was met eye-to-eye with Sabine Cheng. 

“Think carefully about what you want to say next.” 

He could almost see the flames of hell burning brightly behind her. “Um… she probably earned it?”

“Good boy.” 

“While I agree that Marinette earned it,” Caline started speaking and Sabine, Chloé, and the girl in question all had to resist the urge to groan, sensing there was more to that sentence. “I think it would be preferable if the girls joined the class for the duration of the flight. It would serve to strengthen the bonds between kids.” 

“And how exactly do you plan on fitting them when all the places in this place are bought out. Not to mention the price difference. Or maybe you thought money was not a problem?” Sabine asked, her voice dripping in sarcasm. 

Before Caline could answer, Lila decided to open her mouth. “Maybe Madame Bustier and you, madame could switch places with them. We know how hard our teacher worked and a bit of relaxation and comfort would do her good. You too could probably relax a bit from all the hard work in that Bakery.” 

Immediately after that, everyone started to agree and try to convince the chaperones to leave them alone. Sabine was about to protest when Caline spoke up. “Well, I think it would be acceptable, provided the girls agree.” She sent both a glare. 

Sabine’s blood boiled. She wasn’t sure if any normal girl would actually have the strength to stand up to a teacher in that position. Only the fact that Marinette looked completely unbothered stopped her from reacting. 

“Of course they won’t agree! They are too selfish!” Alya shouted. 

Some of the people on the plane started to stare at the group, with many gazes falling on Marinette and Chloé. 

The blonde scoffed, but her best friend grinned. “Sure.” She pulled her ticket and handed her to the teacher. “But we’re blocking the flight, so let’s move.”

Chloé handed hers to Sabine, smiling politely at the woman. “Marinette suspected this would end like that.” She whispered before taking a seat next to Dupain-Cheng. Both girls pulled out old-fashioned dictaphones and started recording what was going on with the class. Then Chloé gave Mari one of her detective novels and they started reading. 

Sabine shook her head. Her little girl had a plan and she would trust her. And after seeing Lila in action, she now had some idea how that liar worked. The way she manipulated people’s opinion reminded her in some ways of the assassin training she underwent. 

-----

The plane was already half-way to Gotham. Sabine did her best to ignore Caliné’s rambling about Marinette, switching between praising her and making her into the heart of all the problems with the class. If she didn’t know better, Sabine would think that the teacher had some sort of mental disorder. Beyond simple stupidity that is. 

Out of the blue, Caliné stopped rambling and Sabine saw her asleep, snoring lightly. 

“A strong sedative. It should give us at least an hour of peace.” A calm voice spoke from behind her. 

“Sandra.” Sabine greeted her sister politely, but without the usual cheerfulness. “Clever of you to choose here of all places to meet me. Don’t think that it will let you escape my wrath. You left that girl on the mercy of a monster.” 

“Cassandra was… I did regret what I did, but I couldn’t risk trying to reclaim her. Not until I was sure she could defend herself.” Sandra said, allowing emotions to enter her voice. Sabine could tell she was genuinely saddened by the situation. 

“You could’ve brought her to me. I would raise her along Marinette without a second thought. And you know that nobody would dare to come after me.” The older turned in her seat to glare at her sister. Two men at her side were both also sleeping, each with a small wound on their neck. They had complete privacy. 

“I… I’m sorry. By the time I managed to find her again, I… I was ashamed. I admit that it pained me to see what Cain did to her. But I couldn’t…”

“We will talk about it when I can scream at you properly.” Sabine cut her off. “For now I want to know what is so important you decided to show up personally, risking my wrath.”

“The boy has allies.” 

“Who?”

“I don’t know, but they are influential enough to shield him from many of my contacts.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you tried. As opposed to with your daughter.”

“I deserve it…” Sandra lowered her head. 

“Yes, you do.” Sabine huffed. 

“If I find the kid…” 

“He sent Mari the knife he stabbed Ladybug with. I have no idea how he got his sticky hands on it…” 

“You still have the bag, right?”

“Already waiting for me in Gotham.”

“I will try digging some more, but I’m getting blocked at each turn.”

“Meanwhile I will keep both our girls safe.”

“I got the picture of Talia by the way.” Lady Shiva allowed a smile to ghost her face. “I carry it framed and put it by my bed. She got a few copies too.” 

“Good. That might remind her not to trifle with us.” The sisters shared a laugh, but Sabine was still angry and it showed. She would give her sister a piece of her mind when the time came. 

-----------

A figure stood cloaked in shadows. The small screen showed a series of images. 

“Poison Ivy; Bane; Penguin; Riddler; Mr. Freeze; Two-Face; Scarecrow; Clayface; Falcone; Harley Quinn; Killer Croc; Joker…” 

“The previous Hawkmoth was a fool.” Another figure spoke from the shadows. Their voice was neither feminine nor masculine. “He stuck to a moral high ground, giving powers to untrained kids. Then again, he was fighting kids.” 

A small, butterfly-like creature floated in the air. “But that is precisely what the Butterfly Miraculous is supposed to do! Its powers will work best with the common people.” 

“Interesting.” The main figure grinned. “So my father wasn’t such a fool after all.” He laughed when another image appeared on the screen. “And I see that my trap is already working.”

Duusuu had to hide from fear. This was not the kind boy they knew. What could’ve happened to Chat Noir, the great kind Chat Noir that made him into… this.

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Masterlist // Next