#those two asks i answered took so much energy out of me

[mullermilkshake]

People would assume

Part 5 <- Part 6 -> Part 7

Phone call.

Someone calls on you.

<- Masterlist

Ring, Ring. 

Your phone pulled you out of the random built up scenarios you had pushed into your brain, ways of how the thief had broken in and what they took in an attempt to scare you with their own perversions.

A phone call that was not recognised.

The number sank your stomach, but it couldn’t hurt you, not with Mr Gojo in the next room. So you answered it. 

“Hello?” 

“Miss, this is Detective Yaga from this evening, where are you?” Hearing from the detective again you knew could mean a possibility of two things, one you hoped and the mere thought of the other twisted knots in your throat.

“At my apartment. I-it’s been trashed.” There was a pause, but he didn’t sound surprised and he sighed into the phone, your ear almost disappointingly agonising like you’d done something wrong.

“Can you come back to the station? It’s important..” 

“Come to the station, right now? I don’t-”

Mr Gojo was close to you and you hadn’ realised, he ripped the phone out of your hand. “No. Not tonight, she’s been through enough as it is, I’ll bring her by tomorrow morning, right now she needs sleep…”

His eyes didn’t leave yours, advocating strong for you like no one had done before. “She needs to rest Yaga… Yes, yes… Fine… Nine o’clock then.”

You got a sense that he was not angry, but furious. His brows lowered and it looked to be his pupils dilated with a twitch of his lip as the phone stayed by his ear. “Everything’ll be fine.” 

And in a blink, his face went neutral again. “Why did they want me to come to the station?” You still kept that envelope close to your chest. 

Then Mr Gojo smiled. “Nothing to worry about tonight, please, let’s get your things and I’ll take you somewhere safer until we can get that window fixed, hm?”

You wanted to question him, to ask him what the detective had spoken about and explained, but there wasn’t an ounce of energy within your body to fulfil those wishes. You could have curled up into a ball and rested right at his feet and never notice the inevitable back ache or crooked neck in the morning to even try to find a bed. 

You’d regret it in the morning, but who actually would care? You wouldn’t.

There wasn’t much you brought with you, it all seemed… used. Touched by a stranger and involved in your personal and private life that you didn’t want to touch any of it and throw it out for good. You settled on an overnight bag and took only the essentials and a few important possessions. And most importantly, Sashimi. He howled in the cat box, always hating it and was the biggest chore to take him to the vets, he hissed and pleaded his escape with his wide, adoring eyes, but it was all a facade to fool you into pandering to him against his best interest. 

“Are you sure it's okay to take him with us? You’ve done so much for me already.” You handled the cage with care, guiding it down the hallway to the elevator and down to the car. 

“Of course it is, I’d hate the thought of the little furball all on his own, the intruder must have spooked him.”

Spooking him was an understatement, you could see him tremble in his box, but Sashimi didn’t enjoy the car ride either so that would have contributed when you got settled inside. “He probably thinks I’m taking him to the vets.” You tried to keep the conversation light, to take your mind away.

Mr Gojo didn’t say anything, just a smile, incredibly soft and gentle to ease you, but you could see his mind was elsewhere. “What are you thinking about?”

He was totally lost. “Hm?”

“There’s something on your mind, isn’t there? Was it the police?”

Initially, you thought he just wasn’t going to respond, his eyes were trained on the men in front, sitting in silence with their eyes on the road. “Not here, we’ll discuss it later.” 

It wasn’t dismissive or rude, but it gave you an air of uneasiness, like he didn’t trust those in the car to speak freely. Who were the men in the suits really? Mr Gojo displayed that he could defend himself with ease and land accurate and powerful punches, you couldn’t help but think that these men were for show, possibly to prevent Mr Gojo from having the inconvenience. 

Though you couldn’t make solid assumptions.

“O-okay.” 

The men looked identical in black suits, like in movies you’d seen, there was no chance to pick them out from the crowd when they looked like every other guest in a suit. You hadn’t even realised that they had been at the auction the entire time. 

The rest of the ride sat in silence, you didn’t recognise this part of the city, the more upscale part that just screamed money. The uncomfortable part was that you weren’t sure how to react to seeing the fancy cars and well dressed bodies in empty sidewalks holding expensive bags and coats made of real fur. The real estate didn’t even come into it, easily being millions of chump change to those souls with an endless stream of income and people looking for a slice of it. 

It made your apartment appear as a shoe box.

“Were here sir.” The car stopped.

The door opened in front of a tall highrise, low lights that added that extra flair to make it all the more extravagant. So tall you had to crane your neck up and none of the other buildings matched its size or beauty of pristine crystal glass shining every colour imaginable.   

“Excellent, go park the car, I won’t be long.”

“Yes sir.”

The lobby was just as expensive as the rest of the building. Everything chrome and shining surfaces that must have taken hours to polish, Sashimi mew'd away which drew onlookers right to you. 

“Ignore them, they’re all snobs.” The first words Mr Gojo said were not what you expected.

The doors to the elevators were up ahead where a man stood straightened in a waistcoat and expensive leather shoes with an entitled look of superiority. “Sir, it’s been a while since you have graced our doors, I do hope you are well...”

He noticed Sashimi who remained vocal.

Gojo introduced you and ignored his pleasantries. “She’ll be staying here for a while so treat her well.”

“Oh, right… yes sir, as you request.”

The doors opened and you thanked him, stepping in as Mr Gojo followed. Then the doors closed leaving the two of you, Sashimi calmed. “He seemed… nice.”

He tutted and shook his head. “You can say it, he’s a judgemental asshole just like the rest of ‘em, but him in particular, he hates everyone.”

“But aren’t they your neighbours?”

“This is just one of the places I own, I’m not here very much so use this place as long as you need, just don’t take a second look at any of these people, they won’t return the sentiment with anyone else. I don’t even pay them mind.”

You stood in silence, trying your best to process it all. This man had access to so much money yet he spoke of it like it was nothing. Was that what having that kind of money did to people? Making them numb to wealth a lot of people would break their backs over just for a taste of the high life, yet a lot of the bodies in the lobby just had it handed to them. 

“Listen… I know this isn’t the most comfortable position to be in, and I know I’ve already overstepped my position on the matter to which I apologise. But I couldn’t sleep soundly knowing you were at that place after what happened. Being alone is hard enough in familiar surroundings, but I hope, even being in a strange place, it might be better where he won’t know where you are.” 

He pulled out a special key from his pocket and slid it into the elevator wall by the buttons making it click and ding. A button lit up.

He? Must have been referring to the intruder and pervert, you guessed at least but asked anyway. “Who are you talking about?”

Mr Gojo looked at you for the first time since the car. “There's some things we need to talk about at the station. I don’t think you should go back to your apartment anytime soon.” 

Before you could speak, the doors opened to the top floor, the penthouse. They opened right into the foyer, right inside. That key must have been the only way to access it. 

You wanted to take in the decor, the tall ceilings and large steel staircase up to an open mezzanine, but you couldn’t. Far too many questions and not enough answers, it threatened to tip your lid and spill out the anger you’d hidden subconsciously and not realised was hiding under your tired expression.

He read your face. “No. Nanami wasn’t the one who broke into your apartment. But he was nearby.” 

What? It couldn’t have been him. The negative energy turned into something fearful and left no air in the elevator, your heart thumped inside you at the mention of his name. “H-how, he shouldn’t have been- fuck; where is he now?”

Mr Gojo took you by the shoulders in an attempt to soothe you. “That was all Yaga told me- shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. I hate this- this guy I’ve known since college.” He let go and turned away. “I’m getting way too involved; I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Why did he get involved? You hadn’t actually stopped and asked yourself that properly. Why a man of his standing chose to get involved, to come and see you back stage and going as far as to walk you onto the balcony and offer words of encouragement. It didn’t make sense.

“We’ll know more tomorrow, I have no clue how he got out of the station so quickly and I have no idea where he could have gone, but I know for a fact he won’t get in here.”

The reassurance made no lick of difference.

You mind made up scenarios once more. “He was coming for me, wasn’t he? This is way deeper than just a crush or attraction. He wasn’t drunk or on something. I never told him my address either, so he must have looked it up on the system, when did he have that information?” 

You were really only thinking out loud. Mr Gojo joined in. “He had access to every record, client main addresses, staff contact information and more, now that I think about it…”

Everything? 

“We went out a while back… I’d been back in town and we reconnected over a drink; oh fuck.” He trailed off, clearly hiding something. 

“Tell me, Satoru.”

Using his first name seemed to spur him on to speak. “Well… he got wasted and started telling me about this girl, but I’d never met her, someone from his work who come to think of it fitted your description. There were others sure, but he never spoke about them the way he did this girl. I thought you seemed familiar when I saw you, he wouldn’t tell me her name though but he looked pretty smitten and it kinda suggested he was already with her at some point.”

“When was this?” Nanami Kento had relationships despite being married to his job, word got around quickly and it was always with someone you knew in the office. 

Every single time you were at the office, he was there. When you thought about it, there wasn’t ever a time when he wasn’t there. You weren’t really sure how he even had the time to date, you never did.

“About three and a half years ago.” You had been there for four. 

There was no evidence to prove it, but all arrows pointed to you. It was enough to put you down. “It’s getting late…”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Look, it’ll be fine. Sleep will help, and tomorrow we’ll go to the station and get someone to fix that window. I’ll have the car pick you up for eight thirty and you can contact me any time, you have my number-”

“I don’t actually. Nanami took the card from me as soon as you left.” 

“That asshole,” He rummaged through his pocket and pulled another card out. “Here. Message me if you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate. I’ll have someone bring it to you.”    

It dawned on you. You were going to be all alone.

When he turned back towards the elevator your mouth ran over before your brain could stop you. “Wait.”

Shit. 

He turned quicker than you thought he would, that was even if he heard you, you assumed it wasn't even audible. “Yeah?”

“Could you… could you maybe just stay just for a little while? I’m not sure if I want to be alone but if you’d rather leave it’s okay, I know you're busy-”

“I’ll stay. I can stay until you fall asleep if you think it’ll help?”

“You’ve done so much for me already, if it’s not too much trouble.” Too much trouble. You were way too much trouble, you’d caused the poor man to fight for you, because of you.

“It’s not any trouble. I’ll make you some tea, why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on the sofa?”

The sofa was the shape of a giant L, so light in colour that a bottle of wine was its own worst enemy. It could probably fit eight people on it comfortably with a glass table either side for drinks and entertainment. Or to sleep. The sofa was almost as deep as a bed that looked as though it would pull out. 

And fuck, was it comfortable. 

Mr Gojo wandered to the open plan kitchen, china clinked down on the side of a material on the counter you couldn’t place, your eyes drooped to the sound of water flow and clicking of a kettle and a hiss. Everyday noises, casual and normal. Normality. That normality disappeared and lulled you to an exhaustion and sleep that caught up with you instantly. You doubted the kettle even made it to hiss with boiling water before your head hit the leathery fabric. 

Sleep that was involuntary without a care to remind you of Nanami Kento. Sleep that protected you from your own mind and made it dreamless.

The police station was a distant thought until morning.

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[nochepsicodelica]

Bear Boyfriend Toji ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You've been away for three out of the five days you took off work to spend time with your family. Toji stayed behind for work, but never went a day without letting you know how much he misses you and wants you to come home already. He calls and texts plenty, and you do the same, assuring him that you'll be home soon. He's made a habit of calling you at the same time every night. Two in the morning.

One fifty-nine became two, and as if he knows it's his cue, your phone rings and Toji's contact name appears over a picture of him sleeping on the couch, bundled up in blankets.

"Toji," you say, as if you're expecting an explanation for why he's calling so late. "It's two a.m., baby. What's going on?"

"Hey, pretty girl. I was just wondering when you're coming home," he asks, his voice deep and low, fitting for what time it is.

You let out a hushed laugh on the other end of the line. "The same day, Toji. You asked me this last night and the night before. I'll be back in two days."

He groans, frustratedly. Getting days as a response is the worst thing ever for him, right now. "That's forever from now. I'm starting to go nuts over here by myself. Can't you cut it short? For me?"

"Sorry, baby. I'll be home soon, I promise. I won't be leaving your side for a while. At least not because I want to."

He sighs, the sound riddled with his loneliness. "I fucking miss you, doll. I wasn't gonna do this today, but I can't sleep for shit without you next to me. What normally doesn't bug me when you're here, irritates the hell out me, now. Like the wind shaking the windows and my own tossing and turning."

"I'm sorry, love. I feel something similar to that, too. I hear when my parents open their bedroom door to use the bathroom and one of my little cousins is still up playing videos games right now." You smile when you hear Toji yawning obnoxiously. "I miss your suffocating bear hugs. I wish you were here to put me to sleep."

"Yeah? You miss being held tightly in my arms?"

You can practically hear the smile on his face. "I do," you assure, a smile of your own spreading on your lips.

"What else do you miss about me?"

You laugh at the tone he uses to ask the question. He's expecting something dirty, but you won't be giving that to him. "I miss your handsome face. You know those green eyes are one of my greatest weaknesses when it comes to you."

"Yeah? What else about me makes you weak?"

You hum, already knowing the answer. "Your soft morning kisses... the way you draw shapes on my tummy with your fingers when I can't sleep at night."

"Fuck, I really miss doing those things, ma," he mumbles.

The line goes quiet for a second, but his signal isn't choppy and he hasn't dozed off. He's imagining the softness of your skin and the little stars and circles he would be drawing on your tummy if you were there with him. He's thinking about the hushed bouts of laughter that would ensue when your energy and playfulness comes out at the wrong time—when you're supposed to be sleeping. With a sigh, he continues his restless conversation, spurred on by his longing for you to be with him.

"Come home to me, already. Please?" He sighs, heavily. He's never felt more like a child—unable to sleep without the presence of the person who brings him the most comfort. "Sorry. I'm sounding pretty pathetic here, aren't I?" He asks, a low rumble of his chuckle caught on the line.

"No, you don't, my love. I miss you like crazy, too. It's the longest we've been apart in a while and it seems like we're both going through withdrawals," you say, unable to hold back a small laugh. "Sorry, saying it out loud sounds kinda funny. Makes it sound like we're addicts out of context."

"Well, I'm addicted to you. Miss everything about you."

"Yeah? Like what?" You ask, fully prepared to hear him slip some of his dirty thoughts into it.

"Mm... I miss the way you sleepily kiss the scar on my lips, before you fully wake up in the morning, and the way you run your fingers through my hair when I lay my head on your chest after a shit day at work. And... of course i'm missing the pretty sounds you make when I get between your thighs."

"Toji," you chide, with a giggle.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, through a chuckle. "Just really miss you, doll. Call me dramatic, already."

"No. For what? Not everyone has a partner that would act this way after being apart for only three days. I'm just lucky like that. You love me?"

"You know I do. So fucking much. I miss your body against mine. Not even trying to be a horndog, I swear. Just want your warmth and your kisses back."

"I know, baby. When I get back, we'll cozy up together and take a nice, long nap, and when we wake up, we can do anything you want. Anything, okay?"

"Yeah, alright, doll."

"It'll be okay," you promise. "You tired?"

"Yeah, I'll leave you be so you can get some rest. Just wanted to hear your voice."

"We can stay on the phone," you offer. "'Fall asleep together, if you want. Or is that stupid?" You ask, with a soft laugh.

"Nah, nah, nah, that sounds good, ma. I'd like that a lot," Toji responds, encouragingly. He sets his phone down next to his pillow and puts you on the lowest volume of speaker. Your voice is more audible, but still only meant for him to hear. "You there, doll?" He asks, once he's settled into his comfortable position.

"Yeah. Ready to go to sleep?"

"Mhm. Love you, gorgeous. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Love you, baby. Goodnight."

Toji credits you for the way he was snoring within minutes. Your presence comforted him, even if the physical aspect of it wasn't with him. He spent a couple minutes just staring at the ceiling, but as time went by, his eyelids started feeling heavier, and there was no way he was going to fight it when that was what he needed help with all along.

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

next

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

next part

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Only for Paige

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader; Paige x reader’s younger cousin!oc (Jaiden)

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: try having a hyperactive younger cousin never sits still—except in Paige’s arms.

A/N: I apologize that it took so long to post anon, but I hope you enjoy

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @shikaizer

There were two types of people in the world: the ones who could handle Jaiden’s endless energy, and the ones who couldn’t.

I liked to think I was in the first category, but if I’m being honest, Jaiden was like a turbocharged ball of chaos—constantly running, bouncing, shouting, and rarely stopping for anything. That kid had more energy than the entire neighborhood combined. But there was one person, one person who could do the impossible: Paige.

Yeah. My girlfriend.

I don’t know how she did it, but whenever Paige was around, Jaiden would sit still. Not for me, not for anyone else in the family. No, he only wanted Paige. The moment she walked in the room, he’d stop his random sprints and chaotic antics, crawl into her lap, and curl up like a little kitten.

The first time I really noticed it was at a family cookout. We were all outside, the grill sizzling and the smell of ribs wafting through the air. It was one of those typical loud family gatherings—Auntie Mona was talking politics at the table, Uncle Ray was cracking jokes about his high school days, and everyone was grilling each other about their love lives.

Jaiden, of course, was running wild. He’d kicked over a drink, spilled chips everywhere, and was now in the middle of an intense chase around the yard with one of the neighbor kids. No one could catch him. I was pretty sure the kid had wings attached to his back.

But then Paige showed up.

She’d just gotten off the phone with me—told me she’d be late because of practice—and when she walked in through the backyard gate, Jaiden froze. Completely still.

He turned to her, blinked once, and then—without a second thought—ran straight for her. Paige knelt down, arms open, and Jaiden dove right into her lap like he’d been waiting for this moment all day.

I watched from the picnic table, blinking, mouth agape.

“He… He’s actually sitting still,” I whispered to my cousin Camille, who was sitting beside me.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that kid be still for more than a minute,” Camille said, shaking her head. “What did she do?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged, still in disbelief. “She just… exists.”

The second time it happened was at my niece’s birthday party. You know how birthdays go—there’s cake, there’s dancing, there’s way too much sugar. Jaiden was off the walls, refusing to sit and enjoy anything. He kept tossing toys, knocking over chairs, and at one point, actually tried to climb the wall. My aunt, who’d been running around trying to manage all the kids, finally came over to me and practically begged.

“Can you get him to calm down?” she asked, clearly at her wit’s end. “You’re his favorite cousin. You’re the one he listens to!”

I glanced around the room. Jaiden was nowhere to be seen, so I took a deep breath and braced myself for the search.

“Jaiden! Jaiden, where are you?” I called out, but I didn’t get an answer. I walked into the kitchen and found him hiding under the table, his little feet kicking the air in excitement.

“Come on, buddy,” I said softly, reaching down to grab his hand. “We gotta calm down. Let’s play with the toys over here.”

But Jaiden wasn’t hearing it. His gaze locked on someone behind me, and I followed his line of sight to see Paige walking into the room, holding a plate of cupcakes.

“Paaaaige!” Jaiden screamed, practically launching himself off the floor. He darted across the room, knocking over a chair, but Paige just laughed and scooped him up before he could fall.

“Hey, little man,” she said, hugging him tightly as if he weighed nothing at all. “You want to color with me?”

“Yeah!” Jaiden squealed.

He had gone from a chaotic whirlwind to a calm, content child in the blink of an eye.

I stood there with my mouth hanging open, still trying to process what I had just witnessed.

“You… You’ve got some kind of superpower,” I muttered to Paige, who was now sitting cross-legged with Jaiden on her lap, coloring in a book.

She just shrugged, a sly grin on her face. “Guess he just likes me.”

I shook my head, watching the kid who wouldn’t sit still for anything fall asleep, curled up in Paige’s arms later that night. It was unreal.

That was when it hit me.

I wasn’t the only one who was falling for Paige. Jaiden had somehow decided that she was his personal superhero.

Fast forward a week. Paige and I had decided to take a mini vacation to unwind before she had to leave for Dallas. It had been a while since we’d had the time to just ourselves. The house was quiet, the lake in front of us glistening under the setting sun, and I finally felt like I could breathe. I had my arm around Paige, and we were both laying on a hammock, just talking about everything and nothing at all.

But then my phone buzzed in my pocket. I sighed and pulled it out.

It was Auntie Mona.

“Girl, I swear, you better come back here. Jaiden has been asking for Paige nonstop for almost two weeks. He refuses to listen to anybody else. We’ve tried everything. You’re coming back and bringing that white girl with you or I’ll start sending the kid to your house as punishment.”

I could hear Jaiden’s high-pitched voice in the background screaming, “Paige! Paige!” over and over.

I looked at Paige and rolled my eyes, chuckling. “Looks like we’re headed back to my aunt’s place.”

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Auntie says Jaiden won’t stop calling for you,” I replied, shaking my head. “He wants you and only you. Apparently, he’s been doing it for days.”

Paige grinned mischievously. “Told you he likes me best.”

I chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “I know, baby. I know.”

We made our way back to Auntie Mona’s place, where Jaiden was bouncing off the walls yet again. The moment we walked through the door, though, he froze. His eyes locked on Paige, and without a word, he sprinted toward her.

“Paige!” he shouted, his arms outstretched.

“Hey, buddy,” Paige said, holding her arms wide open as he ran straight into them. She caught him effortlessly, lifting him into her lap as he snuggled into her chest.

“Where’s my snacks?” Jaiden asked, his voice muffled by her shirt.

“You know the rules,” Paige said, smiling. “You get your snacks after a nap.”

“I’m not sleepy!” Jaiden protested, trying to squirm, but Paige only tightened her hold on him, rocking him gently.

“You will be,” she said softly.

At that moment, Jaiden’s mom, my cousin Tasha, walked in. She took one look at the situation and threw her hands up. “At this point, y’all might as well adopt him. I swear he calls for you more than he calls for me.”

I burst out laughing. “I mean, if you’re offering…”

Paige smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Jaiden’s head. “I’ll take him. But only if you share him.”

Tasha rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was just as amused as I was. Jaiden was finally calm, and it was all because of Paige.

That evening, after we’d gotten Jaiden to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how great Paige was with him. How she could settle him down with just her presence. How, when the time came, she’d be amazing with our own kids.

It wasn’t just that she could handle Jaiden. It was that she wanted to. And I knew, in my heart, that I wanted her to be the one to hold our future children too.

Because if she could get Jaiden to sit still—imagine what she could do for us.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[comesatimecomesashadow]

Hey hey! Could i request a shadow x college student who took him in and try’s to encourage him to be more outgoing/friendly with the others? I keep thinking about how cute it would be to sorta babysit the whole bunch for Maddie and Tom, and Shadow get roped into the friendship. He deserves the best support system☹️❤️!!

tonight, tonight *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x reader [can be read as platonic or romantic]

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot, reverse-comfort

cw *ೃ༄ nothing !

summary *ೃ༄ you help shadow come out of his shell.

note *ೃ༄ sorry this took so long anon! i've been busy these past couple weeks.. | I had fun writing this especially after watching sonic 3, he deserves the world !!!

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Being a college student was no easy feat. Assignments and deadlines filled up your time and often left you feeling burnt out, but you always managed to pull through. If there was anything you’d learned from being at school for this long, it was that you couldn’t give up because you’d always make it in the end anyway. It was just the process of getting there that you hated. 

   Shadow was about the only one who could allow you to escape the stressful confines of your dorm. You had met him on one of your nightly walks to de-stress after the hectic events of the day. Hour-long lectures and energy drinks for breakfast weren’t exactly the most desirable position to be in. As you were planning out your week, calculating how much time each assignment needed and what instructions were given, you bumped into an unfamiliar creature : A Hedgehog. 

   It struck you as a peculiar happenstance, given that he was on college grounds. He didn’t seem like he was a student. Of course, you could have just ignored him and went on with your night, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Since that day, the two of you have been inseparable. You weren’t exactly startled by his existence given that before you met him, Tom and Maddie asked you to ‘babysit’ Sonic and the others while they went out. Though your schedule was a bit stressful because of your college work, you always accepted. 

   And now, since Shadow had become part of your life, he sometimes tagged along when you went over to the Wachowski residence. Sonic, Knuckles and Tails behaved fairly well for the most part (you were thankful for that), but there was always one thing that nagged at you : your black and red quilled hedgehog friend who always seemed to be off in his own world despite being in the same room as the others. 

   Shadow had told you about his past after about a year of staying with you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to feel isolated when everyone else was having fun. You weren’t exactly the best at comfort, but you couldn’t just leave him like that. So you decided to address it before heading over there.

   Shadow was munching on a handful of coffee beans when you entered the kitchen. You were dressed casually and ready to go out. “Shadow,” you spoke as you turned on the stove to boil a bit of water for a cup of coffee. 

   “What is it?” His eyes drifted to you, he was sitting at the small kitchen table. Your apartment wasn’t big but it was something at least. Shadow was grateful. 

   “Do you want a cup of coffee?” You asked while you leaned on the counter, your arms crossed. You weren’t sure how to approach it, you couldn’t exactly just tell him to socialize. In your experience, that never worked on you so it definitely wouldn’t work on him. So how..? 

   “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” Shadow nodded and kept eating away at his coffee beans. You’d gotten used to his short answers but sometimes, they weren’t the best for serious conversations like these. 

   “Are you going to come with me to Maddie’s?” you inquired, your voice a little softer than usual. 

   Shadow nodded, “Yes, I will be accompanying you tonight. Someone has got to keep those dimwits in check.” You chuckled at his insults and a small smile tugged at your lips. The time wasn't right, it felt too abrupt to just bring it up out of nowhere. So you made a note to bring it up later, at the right moment. After a cup of coffee with your hedgehog companion, the two of you were off to the Wachowski household. 

   The afternoon was calm. It was accompanied with the soft caresses of the wind and the warm beams of sunlight. You knocked on the door and waited for an answer, continuing your conversation with Shadow until Maddie answered the door. 

   “You’re right on time, come on in!” Maddie greeted, opening the door to let the two of you in. You thanked her and greeted the ever-energetic hedgehog who whizzed up in front of you in a matter of seconds. 

   “We’ll be back around ten-thirty, alright?” Tom told you. You nodded, “Yep, I promise to keep everyone on their best behavior.” The couple smiled in acknowledgement and told Sonic and the others the usual ‘behave or you’re grounded’ spiel before disappearing into one of Sonic’s rings. 

   “You guys wanna have a movie marathon or board games?” you asked the four of them, Shadow was still at your side with his arms crossed. 

   “How about, Board games first n’ then a movie marathon?” Sonic suggested, his hands on his hips. 

   “That sounds great!” Tails chimed in, “Agreed.” added Knuckles. 

   Sonic went to go get the board games out of the cabinet while everyone else cleared the table, Shadow was quiet as always. “You’re joining right?” 

   “Do you want me to?” Shadow helped you carry some cups to the sink. 

   You nudged him, “I’m asking what you want.” 

   He pondered for a moment. “I am unfamiliar with the games.” He didn’t seem sad about it but a little ..lost? This did not deter you though. 

   “I’ll teach you, I promise it’ll be fun.” you beamed. 

   “.. Are you sure?” Shadow asked, avoiding eye contact. It was a thing he did when he was uncertain of something. But you only nodded and guided his gaze back to you. You knew he was unsure about how the others would react to his participation. 

   “I’m more than sure.” 

   After the table was cleared, there was a mountain of games at the side of the table; Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and you sat at the surrounding edges of the table, seated on the couch. “Since Shadow’s joining this time,” You began as you reached for the deck of cards on the table. “I was thinking we could play uno first, how's that?” 

   “Shadow’s joining?” Sonic asked with a surprised look on his face, “This’ll be fun.” Shadow only huffed and crossed his arms. Shadow only acted as if the blue hedgehogs remarks meant nothing because on the inside, he was grateful that they weren’t opposed to having him in the game.

   “I look forward to winning against all of you,” said Knuckles while donning a determined expression.

   “That’s ambitious.” said Shadow, “Dream on!” chimed Tails. Everyone seemed pumped and the environment felt warm. You were glad to see Shadow stepping out of his comfort zone. You split the cards while you explained the rules of the game to Shadow as well as the purpose of the different cards. Shadow listened intently and admired your expertise at card-shuffling. 

   “Alright, everyone count if you’ve got seven cards.” you said as you looked through your cards. 

   “Are we betting anything?” Sonic asked playfully. 

   “No, we are not betting anything, this is a game not gambling.” You rolled your eyes, “Plus, I'm a broke college student — the most I can give is like ten bucks.” Sonic and the others laughed at your half-joke. You reached for the deck and turned a card over, a six and the color blue present on the card. 

   After a long round of rock, paper, scissors, it was decided that Tails would start first and it would go clockwise. The game, despite being a practice round, went on for quite a long time — Though that was to be expected, given that it was the five of you who were playing. Tails ended up winning and the night went on smoothly. 

   Shadow was quite competitive and he ended up winning the two rounds afterwards, much to Sonic’s dismay. You were happy to see this side of Shadow, he seldom went out of his way to interact with others. It was your influence on him and your encouraging nature that allowed him to step out of his comfort. 

   It was about eight in the evening when Shadow was helping you make snacks for the movie marathon. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were bickering over which movie to watch but you didn’t pay much mind to it. “You were great at Uno, I was surprised. It was your first time right?” You mashed the avocados with the mortar and pestle; Everyone had agreed on guacamole as the snack of the night. 

   Shadow nodded in response to your question, “I’m a quick learner, the game was relatively simple.” 

   Shadow added the minced tomatoes into the avocado mix. “I’m proud of you, y’know.” you spoke quietly but your words were warm. It was an exchange just between the two of you. Shadow began chopping up the cilantro as you spoke. “I know it isn’t easy, but I’m proud of you.” 

   His chopping slowed, “.. I’m not a social being, But..” He inhaled slowly before sighing. “Your efforts in encouraging me to engage with others were helpful.” You smiled at his words and listened earnestly, mixing in the ingredients he poured. “Playing board games with everyone today.. It reminded me of Maria.” 

   Your smile was one of understanding as you gazed down at the black hedgehog. He was reserved most of the time, but today he did something he wasn’t usually comfortable with. Your warm nature helped him creep out of his shell and enjoy himself. It helped him remember the lost moments with the person he held dearest to his heart. 

   “I remembered the joy I felt with her.. It was so easy then.” He spoke, a sorrowful smile on his lips. 

   “It might not be easy now, but it isn’t unreachable. Okay?” You washed your hands and dried them before bending down to give him a hug. He let go of the knife and accepted your warm hug. He closed his eyes before enclosing his own arms around you. Even though both of your lives were stressful, he had you and you had him. 

   No matter what, the two of you helped each other up when the other was down. The support you’d given him these past two years — he’d remember it and cherish it. 

   He decided then that he would do the same for you too.

[scarletwinterxx]

god bless your dad's genetics - choi seungcheol imagine

do you ever think daddy when you see Cheol or are you normal... hahahaha no but seriously this man this man he is THE MAN. my playlist of all Seungcheol coded songs are getting longer and longer🤣 and you already know Juno by Sabrina Carpenter is there THAT IS SO HIS SONG

anywayssss hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"See you next dinner! Hopefully you got the baby carrier next time!"

"Okay, auntie bye!"

Your smile fades the moment the front door closes, Seungcheol chuckling at your expression. You feel him give your hand a squeeze, leading you down the road to where he parked his car

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into this" you grumble as you walk beside him

"Because they're family, it was nice to see your mom" he tells you, trying to simmer your irritation. He knows it's not meant for him but for the nosy relatives you try so hard to avoid.

It took a while before you introduced him to your extended family for this exact reason, every family reunion they would pester you about finding a boyfriend or a husband and you just always reply with a smile. When you did finally get a boyfriend you didn't even think about taking him to your chaotic family dinners.

But Seungcheol, god bless his heart, just wanted to be the best boyfriend so when your mom asked if he wanted to come of course he couldn't say no.

He already knew your mom so when you got to her place, she welcomes the two of you then goes around dragging Seungcheol by the arm to introduce him to the rest of the family.

It's cute to see your mom boasting your boyfriend, you would too.

The entire night went on like the usual then when it was time to say goodbye of course some of your aunties will make sure to say something.

You're glad it's over though. It really drained all your energy, thankful you now have someone with you. The two of you get in the car, he waits before you're buckled in before he starts driving back to the city.

"It was, but god the rest of them are nosy" you say

He laughs at your words, nodding his head "Your mom showed me all the baby pictures" he tells you

"Is that where you disappeared to? Oh god please tell me she didn't show everything"

"She showed me everything" he beams, if not for his big smile you would've been more annoyed but seeing Seungcheol happy makes you happy. If it's at the expense of your embarrassing baby pics then so be it.

"You were so cute, what are you worrying for" he asks, his hand finding your thigh like it always does whenever you're sitting on his passenger seat

"I'm very well aware I was a cute baby, you know when I see those pics I can't help but wish my daughter would look just like me"

Seungcheol looks over at you quickly, seeing you looking out the window. He can't help but smile at that, his mind already imagining a little in his arms with your nose and eyes and cheeks.

"Me too" he mumbles "One of you is cute but two though..." he trails off

That makes you look over at him, the two of you have talked about the future but not much about the details. You don't see a future without him and so does he.

He's very sure the two of you would end up on the aisle saying vows to each other, no matter how far that is down the road.

"You want kids?"

"Yea, in the future when we're ready. How ever many you want" he answers so casually but in reality his heart is hammering against his chest. He's a tough guy, he likes to think. But when it comes to you, even the little things you do can get him down on his knees.

"Really?" he can hear the smile on your voice, he gives your thigh a squeeze before taking your hand to give the back of it a kiss

"Really really, a little girl who looks just like you? I would love that more than anything. Have you seen you, babe? I bet you'll look good pregnant" he smirks, earning a light hit on his arm from you

You blush at his words, your mind and heart racing at the thought of having his babies.

"Fuck around and you'll find out" you say

"Oh don't worry, I'm planning to"

You laugh outloud but you just know there's truth to his words. Having Seungcheol as your lover will never leave you unsatisfied in all ways. He knows just how to treat your right.

"But how about you, do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks, giving you a quick look

"What are you talking about? You'll be on fight mode everyday if we have a daughter and I'll love you even more for it. I just know she'll be in good hands" you say

"You're so daddy material" you jokingly add

"Okay back up, let's not go there yet. I'm driving" he chuckles

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking about a few things he wanted to ask "Did you have a hard time? going back between your mom and dad?"

"No, they were very good parents. I was always the first priority and I knew that. You know my dad told me it's easy to find a husband but it's hard to find a father for your kids. Him and my mom might not have been a good couple but they are great parents"

"I can see that" he says with a quiet voice. He knew about your parent's separation when you were a kid. How you spent your holidays in two households, how you celebrate everything twice.

'It's double the love' you once told him.

He can see that even though you were raised in an unconventional household, it didn't stop you from having a positive outlook on love and having a family of your own. And for that, he's thankful.

When the two of you arrive at his place where you now mostly stay, he gets out first and opens the door for you. The two of you walk hand in hand towards his front door but he stops you midway

"I'm glad to hear you're happy. I promise that even if it might not be like that everyday, I'll never walk away when it isn't"

You look up at him, committing this moment to your memory "Me too"

"And I'll work even harder to be a good father"

Walking towards him, you throw your arms around his neck so now you're face to face

"I know you will be"

"I love you" he tells you because there's so much to say but that's all he can think of right now. Looking right into your eyes then down your lips then to your eyes again, he swears he's falling in love all over again. He swears he can hear his heart beating because fuck he's so so so in love with you.

It's taking every bit of his self control not to kneel down on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage right now.

You lean towards him, everything in his mind goes quiet and all he heard before you kiss him were the words "I love you, too"

[probablyintensemuses]

Dating Armando Aretas Would Include:

Grumpy x Sunshine Edition

🎧- Enchanted: Taylor Swift

pairing: Armando Aretas x black fem! reader

themes: grumpy x sunshine w/drabble

warnings: mentions of trauma & abuse, strong language, and a bit of gore.

authors note: I saw Bad Boys 4 again last night and it’s really refueled my Armando obsession, so more headcannons, drabbles, and fics on the way.

✨First Encounters✨

You and Armando meet in the worst of circumstances.

He, his father, and Marcus were on the run as wanted men, and you were the first person Mike thought to turn to after the attack at Tabatha’s.

Which he wasn’t wrong, you’d give your left kidney to Mike he’s saved you so many times.

You had let them into your small apartment, offering them clothes, food, and shelter until they could get in touch with the rest of the Ammo team and sort this shit out.

Armando had taken an interest to you then. Your house was warm and cozy, lived in. A small, plush couch, next to a coffee table littered with medical books. A kitchen stacked with teas and espressos , a dresser with vintage vinyls and a record player beside it. This was the kind of house he’d like to live in if he lead a different life.

You remember walking over to him, a picture of your parents and you when you were young in his hands.

“Those are my parents,’ you say. “I was ten then.”

Armando’s gruff exterior takes over though, and he doesn’t give you as much as a word back, let alone a thank you for feeding and housing literal fugitives.

You figured it was just him though and let it roll off you back like water.

You all got some sleep and the next day Mike asks you to drive them out to Dorn’s house on the dock. You agree and begin to load up the truck with guns, water, food, and extra clothes for the drive.

This is when Armando starts to question who you are and the legitimacy of your actions. Last person Mike trusted fucked them over, and he wasn’t having that shit again.

So he pulls his father aside and confronts him on the situation: you.

“How can we trust her?” Armando says, not far out of earshot of you.

“She’s good for it, trust me.”

“Didn’t you say that the last time and we got sold out. Don’t forget there is fucking five million dollar bounty on our heads. We can’t trust no one!” He whisper-shouted.

Mikes shoulders dropped. “I saved her life when she was younger, and I used to work with her parents. Trust me, she’s not going to pull a fast one. Because if she was, she would have done it already.”

Armando looked over at you, you’re dressed in a tank top, and that’s when he notices the cuts and burns littering your left arm. He sucks in a deep breath eyeing Mike who looks at you with sympathy too. There’s a story there, he’ll piece it together later, but for now he guesses you’re his only hope of getting out alive.

✨Post-fallout ✨

After you didn’t screw them over, and got them safety to Dorn’s, Armando found himself limping towards your apartment, blood trailing behind his feet.

Mike had sent him, and for some reason, at that moment, your place felt like exactly what he needed.

With the last of his energy, he banged on your door. Shortly, you answered and immediately went into panic mode.

The moment you let him inside, Armando crashes to the floor, passing out.

You screech and get every first aide equipment you have on hand and begin to bandage him up and stop the bleeding.

It took two bloody, sweaty hours, but you eventually got him all closed up.

Armando woke the next morning in a bed he didn’t recognize. This sent him into a frenzy. He went to shoot up out of the bed, but the soreness of his injuries knocked him back down.

“Fuck,” he moaned, grabbing at his torso.

From the living room, you turn down your headphones at the sound of movement. Armando must be awake.

Two days of rest, not bad.

You move towards the microwave and reheat the breakfast you had made him, pour some orange juice, and bring a whole heck of a lot of water and pain-pills.

Tray in hand, you kick open the door and slip inside your bedroom.

“Good morning.” You smile, setting the tray on the bed by his side. “How do you feel?”

“What the fuck did you put in this.” Armando asks, eyeing the food.

“Eggs, bacon, and toast.” You snicker.

Armando lifts a piece of toast, taking a bite. “If I die from this, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted, Sarg.” You salute.

You watch Armando eat his food with a smile on your face.

Eventually he looks up at you scowling. “Why are you staring at me.”

You shrug. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You say truthfully.

“Well,’ Armando takes a swig of water, downing the pills. “Go be happy somewhere else.”

Your shoulders drop and you let out a sigh, you knew Armando was tough, but geez, you practically saved his life. Would it kill him to be a little nice?

But still you smile when you say, “okay, well if you need me, I’ll be out in the living room studying. Feel free to roam around, I don’t mind.”

It was a couple hours before Armando had come out of your room, limping over to the kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

“I’m making dinner right now,’ you say, pausing your television show. “It’s a roast with veggies.”

“I want a beer.” He grumbles.

“Well I don’t have beer, but I do have wine.” You say, pointing to you collection of reds and whites.

“ I don’t want wine.”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”

Armando comes over to you, cornering you into the tiny space between your sink and the counter. “Get me a beer.”

“Let’s start over,’ you stick out your hand for a shake. “I think we’re at a misunderstanding of our situation.”

Armando frowns at your response, grumbling Spanish curses under his breath and walking away, slamming your door like a toddler.

The roast was done, and eventually you got Armando to come and have dinner with you…kind of.

He sat on the couch and watched the news, for updates on the status for his search, and you sat at the table, contemplating what to do with him next.

✨Enemies, Friends, Roomates✨

Mike had told you harboring Armando would only be for a short while until he could figure something out with the D.A’s office….that was three months ago.

Eventually you got your bed back, Armando taking the couch, but not your sanity.

Living with Armando wasn’t easy. He was brash, stand-offish, stubborn, and mean.

You did everything to try and form some kind of bond with him, even buying him gym equipment offline, but it just never clicked for him.

Not until one night when you’re studying late for an exam and happen to fall asleep at the kitchen table, books all around you.

That’s when you fall into a nightmare. The man who ruined your life the star of the show, again.

It always starts the same. You and your parents living happily at the park. Your parents watch you as you swing higher and higher, giggles filling the air. Then a man appears at the edge of the park, beckoning your parents over. You scream and shout for them but they never turn back, they keep going to the man. And when he has your parents in his grip, he brandishes a knife, slicing them open.

You let out a blood curling scream, slamming awake and falling to the group. Sweat sticks your curls to your face as you cry and gasp for breath.

Armando’s up in a second, swarming you.

“Estás bien?��� He pats you down, checking you out. “What’s happened to you?”

You can’t do anything but cry. The man who’s ruined your life, he’ll never leave you…he made sure of that in many ways. His latching to you is so deep that you can’t even escape him when you sleep.

You finally are able to get some words out, tell Armando, “I had a nightmare. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,’ he helps you stand. “Maybe you should get some sleep in your bed.”

You’re shocked by his response, but you’re even more shocked by the way he helps you to your room.

“What are you doing?” You asks, confused.

“You just flew out your chair from a nightmare, what do you mean what am I doing? I’m helping you.”

“Yeah, I get that…but you never help me.”

Armando sighs, holding his hands at his hips. “You gonna tell me what it was about, or should I leave.”

You sigh. “When I was younger, my parents worked for the Miami Police Department. They were detectives and before I was born they ended up helping catch this serial killer. His name was Gunter Bennett but the media called him “The Gutter” because that’s how he killed. Years later, somehow he escaped prison. That’s when he came for my parents. He killed them in the middle of the night.’ You take an uneasy breath, finding birth relief and shock when Armando’s hand slips into yours. “And I was sure he was going to kill me too, but he didn’t…he did worse. He kidnapped me and kept me at some shithole for three years. Three.”

You rile up your sleeves and show all your burns and cuts. Armando remembers them from the first day he met you.

“It’s how I got these. That sadistic bastard,’ you cry. “He tortured me.”

Armando feels something in him snap hearing your story and seeing the ways it’s effected you, even now. He knows what it’s like to be harmed and loose the people closest to you.

So he shocks even himself with what does next, scooping you up like a wounded bird and nuzzling under the blankets with you.

You whimper and sniffle in his arms and he just hushes you, stroking your curls.

“It’s going to be alright, niña bonita, he’s gone now.”

Slowly, the exhaustion of work, school, and your tears overcome you and you both drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

✨My Lover✨

Armando was jealous.

You two had just spent the day out shopping, laughing and talking. Hell, you two live together! And yet you’re grinding on another man at the bar?!

The glass in Armando’s hand shakes and chips as he squeezes it further.

“Relax, muscle milk. You’ll break the glass.” Marcus says.

Armando scowls at him.

“I’m just saying, if you love her, tell her.” Marcus shrugs, walking away.

Armando scoffs. Love? Yeah right.

Did he feel close to you, yes.

Want to spend every breathing moment with you, yes.

Touch himself in the shower thinking about you, yes .

Oh fuck…he did love you.

Fuck! He loved you and you’re grinding another man!

Armando pushed out of his chair, it clattering to the ground in his wake.

He stalked over to you, grabbing your wrist and putting room between you and the man you danced on.

“ ‘Mando, what are you doing?” You stumble, clearly drunk.

“Let’s go.” He grabs you, chest heaving.

“Hey, wait!” You swat at him as he drags you through the bar and out the exit. “Why would you do that?” You whine.

“Because you’re drunk.” He rolls his eyes, slinging his leather jacket over your naked shoulders.

“I’m not!’ You whine, stumbling, luckily Armando catches you with ease. “I am.”

“You are. Let’s go.” He says, slinging you and carrying you bridal shower.

“Ah,’ you say, wrapping your arms around Armando’s neck and snuggling into him. “My knight in shining armor always takes such good care of me.’ You lean over, smacking his butt with a giggle.

“Shut up.” Armando says, resisting the urge to crack a smile.

Home, Armando tucks you into bed. He’s just about to walk away when you snatch his wrist, pulling him on top of you.

“Let’s play a game,” you whisper.

Armando rolls his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Truth for truth. I tell you a truth and you do the same. “I’ll start.” You giggle.

“Tonight went exactly how I planned.”

Armando pulls back. “What do you mean by that?”

You shake your head and pout. “Uh uh. You’re turn.”

Armando sighs. “I don’t actually find you that annoying…anymore.”

“Ah, I knew it!” You laugh.

“Knew what?”

“Game over.’ You slump and snore, pretending to sleep.

“Stop it, you knew what?” Armando lifts you.

You bop his nose. “I knew that you loved me.”

Armando’s eyes get big. “What?”

“Me and kelly paid that guy to dance with me. We knew you’d get mad and that was all the proof I needed.”

“You’re a dick.” He starts to walk away, but you grab him by his belt loop.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You pull him back. “But you don’t have to be shy.” You hiccup.

Armando grumbles, nuzzling his face into your stomach. “And why’s that?”

You lift his head, angling it to face you. “Because I love you too.” You lean forward, placing a firm kiss onto his plump lips.

Armando reciprocates, opening his mouth turning the kiss fierce and hot. He climbs on top of you, mumbling against your lips. “And I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”

You giggle. “Feels good to be bad for a change.”

[nerokoma]

heads up! — NOTHING (26/30)

1.1k words

“Thanks again for the ice cream.” You let out a chuckle as Kuroo took a seat on the curb beside you. “Even though you really didn’t have to.” 

The boy only smirked, shrugging as he opened his ice cream package. “I’m only being a good host, considering we’re in my city.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own ice cream. The sun had already set, the light from the convenience store illuminating your figures and casting shadows onto the ground in front of you. The city had grown quiet, the store conveniently located on a quieter street in the neighbourhood, away from the loud, metropolitan area. 

“It’s really nice to be back though,” you said, an air of wistfulness in your voice that quickly disappeared as you looked at him in excitement. “I was watching your match earlier! I’m glad you guys made it through.” 

Kuroo looked at you with a teasing glint. “Were you doubting us? I’m hurt, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not for a second,” you answered. “I just know how excited our teams are to face each other again.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Kuroo said with a small chuckle. “The first years have so much energy. I’m jealous, honestly.” 

You nodded, laughing. “Ours too. I have no idea where they get all their energy from. Maybe it’s all the snacks I give them.” 

“Speaking of snacks, what were those cookies you gave us when we first went to Miyagi?” he asked, tilting his head. “I’ve been thinking about them for months. I think they’re the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

A frown made its way onto your face as you thought back, and in that moment, Kuroo’s eyes fixed on you with a soft smile as he studied your focused gaze. The moment your eyes lit up in remembrance, he immediately glanced away. 

“Ah! Those were specialty cookies from a local bakery in our town! The owners were so sweet and gave me a discount because I ordered so many.” You grinned at him. “You should have told me sooner! I could have brought you some.” 

The boy let out a chuckle, taking another bite of his ice cream. “Sorry, that’s on me.” 

“It’s alright,” you said with a smile. “Just let me know if you ever come back to Miyagi. I can show you the bakery.” 

Kuroo smiled at you, his gaze lingering on your figure for just a second too long. He gave a single nod before looking away. 

“Are you planning on staying local for university?” he asked tentatively. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though hesitated for a moment. 

“I…don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I’ve applied to a couple places around the country– even some outside of Japan. I haven’t decided where I’m going yet.” A small sigh escaped your lips. “And honestly, I don’t even want to think about it right now.” 

“I understand,” Kuroo said, nodding. “It’s a lot to think of and decide in a short amount of time.” 

Your lips tightened into a straight line as you nodded. “It feels like time is moving so fast. Like, a part of me still can’t believe that we’re actually here. In Tokyo! At the nationals! The boys have worked so hard for this.”

Kuroo pointed his ice cream cone at you with raised eyebrows, a stern expression on his face.

“What did I say before about selling yourself short?” 

“Sorry, sorry. We worked so hard for this.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “But really, if you told me a year ago that we were going to make it all the way to nationals, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.” 

“How did you end up as a manager anyways?” he asked, glancing sideways. “Some teams don’t even have one manager, let alone two.” 

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you took another bite of ice cream. 

“It’s all thanks to Kiyoko, actually. I wouldn’t have touched volleyball with a 10-foot pole if it wasn’t for her.” You paused for a moment as the memories from years before came flooding back while Kuroo watched you curiously. “I told you before that Daichi and I hated each other in first year, didn’t I?” 

Kuroo nodded, remaining quiet as you continued. 

“I actually had the biggest crush on him at the time, like, embarrassingly so. When he approached Kiyoko and I to ask if we wanted to be managers, I almost said no because it made me so nervous to be near him, but Kiyoko convinced me to join because she thought it would be fun for the both of us. I was so afraid he’d find out I liked him though that I started avoiding him and acting coldly. But Daichi thought that meant I hated him, so he started acting coldly too, and it was this whole back and forth of us being purposefully mean out of spite. We only snapped out of it when the other third years locked us in the equipment room and didn’t let us out until we worked things out.” 

“How did that work out?” Kuroo asked. His voice had quieted slightly, though it went unnoticed by you. 

“We both apologized for how we acted and agreed it was really childish, and we’ve been chill ever since. I’m glad we did- things would’ve been hard if a manager and player hated each other. Plus, he’s a really great person and my life definitely would’ve been missing something if we’d never made up.”

“Did he know that you..?” 

You shook your head. “Nope, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he figured it out at some point.” You turned to the boy, expecting his usual cheeky grin, though confusion spread across your face when you were met with his serious expression, a distant look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Kuroo? Is something wrong?” 

“Wha-? No. No, everything’s fine.” Without warning, he brought himself to his feet, quickly brushing himself off. You quickly followed suit, not taking your eyes off him as he pulled his phone out. “Sorry, I just- I forgot there’s something important I had to discuss with my team tonight.”

Although confused, you nodded, slowly following him as he began stepping away. “Oh, that’s ok! Did you wanna walk back tog-”

Kuroo shook his head, not meeting your gaze as he continued to walk away. “Sorry, Y/N. I really need to go,” he said. The boy turned and began sprinting away, leaving you standing in front of the convenience store by yourself. 

“What just happened…” you mumbled to yourself, glancing down when you felt something wet on your hand. 

Your ice cream had begun to melt, dripping down onto the sidewalk as you watched his figure grow smaller with every second that passed. However, there was nothing you could do about that, nor did it seem like there was anything you could do about the ache in your chest as you turned and began to walk back on your own. 

kuroo’s got his priorities straight: make the battle at the garbage dump happen, win nationals, go to university, and maybe win the heart of the rival team’s cute manager along the way.

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a/n: kuroo was supposed to be so much more of a red flag but i couldn't do it. i'm sorry. i physically cannot i love him too much

[insidekatmind]

Interview~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18, smut

The match between Tottenham and Chelsea had just ended, and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The historical rivalry between the two teams had given an incredible show, but of all the players on the field, one had shined more than the others: Levi Colwill. The young Chelsea defender had been a wall, cancelling out any attempts by the opponents to score. He was voted "Man of the Match" and, as a sports journalist, your job was to interview him.

With the microphone in your hand and the earpiece updating you on live time, you positioned yourself in the mixed zone, where players passed for interviews. When Levi approached, his gaze immediately caught yours. Those intense and hungry eyes you felt a warmth inside but ignored the feeling. You had to be professional.

"Levi, an incredible performance today. You literally closed every space. How do you feel after such a strong game?" you asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

He smiled at you, a smile full of energy that is hard to decipher. "It was tough, but these are the games you love to play. Against Tottenham, in a derby so heartfelt... You know you have to give it all. And today we proved that we are a united team."

As he spoke, his gaze did not detach from yours. You felt a strange tension grow, as if there was something unsaid between you. You tried to concentrate. It was just the usual charisma of a top athlete, you said.

"You’ve stopped Son on more than one occasion, which is no small thing. How did you prepare this match knowing that you would have to face such a dangerous striker?"

He nodded, giving you another smile. "Son is one of the best in the world, so I knew I had to be at my best. But I like this kind of challenge. It’s what motivates me to improve, push myself beyond my limits."

As he answered, you noticed how his eyes wandered over your face, lingering slightly longer than necessary. His smile became more and more mischievous, and you felt a shiver down your back. But you were live, and you kept going.

"Last question, Levi. What is the message you want to send to the Chelsea fans after such an important victory?"

He smiled again, a smile that seemed more personal. "Our goal is to win. Always. Today we have made a big step, but the work doesn’t end there. Thanks to the fans for their support. It is also thanks to them that we play with so much passion."

You closed the interview thanking him, trying to ignore that strange feeling that had accompanied you all along. Levi nodded, and took one last look at you before leaving.

---

After a while, as you were trying to relax from the tension of the live show, you decided to go to the bathroom in the stadium to settle down. It was a quiet moment after the frenzy of the game and the interview. But as soon as you walked in, you heard the door open behind you. You turned, and found yourself face to face with Levi.

"I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon," you said, trying to mask the surprise.

He didn’t answer immediately. He came closer, his eyes even more intense now that you were alone. "You are always so professional, huh?" He said with a smile, but his voice was different, lower, almost provocative.

You tried to keep control. "I try to do my job," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "Is there anything that you need?"

"Maybe," he said, getting closer again. Now it was so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. " You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me during the interview."

"How did I look at you?" you asked, trying to seem indifferent, even if your heart was beating fast.

He didn’t answer your question but was smiling and was getting closer to you

"I noticed," he said, with a grin that made you shiver. "And you know what? I like it."

You didn’t have time to answer. Before you knew it, he’d gently pushed you towards the sink, his hands finding their place on your hips. Your breath was blocked when her lips found yours. It was an intense kiss, full of the same passion that she had shown in the field.

For a moment, you forgot everything: your work, professionalism, context. There was only him, and you, and that strange alchemy that seemed to explode every time your eyes met.

His lips broke away from yours, and for a moment your breaths were the only sound in the room. Levi looked at you with a defiance, almost provocative smile, as if he knew exactly what effect it had on you.

"What’s the matter?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, his voice low and almost amused. "You don’t look so professional now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to regain control of the situation. " And you don’t seem so focused on your victory," you replied, but your voice trembled slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions within you.

He smiled, spreading his legs to get in the middle." Maybe it’s because there is something more interesting here," he said, biting your lower lip slightly and you whimpered.

Your heart has skipped a beat. " Levi, you’re not funny," you said, trying to look stern, but your lips were already bending into a half smile.

"Oh, I’m very serious," he replied. This time, his fingers touched your hand, a light touch, almost random, but enough to hold your breath. " You know, I’m not a quitter. Neither in the field nor outside."

"You always have a strategy, don’t you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, as your faces drew closer again.

"That’s right," he said, the tone of his voice now lower, almost intimate. "And I usually win."

You couldn’t resist. With a strong gesture, you grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him more towards you as you began to rub your hips on his cock. He let it happen, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"You’re too sure of yourself,' you said, looking into his eyes as you tried to hide a moan by feeling his hard cock.

"Maybe because I’m right," he replied, his voice a whisper that made you tremble.

You didn’t answer, at least not with words. Your hands slipped behind his back, and you pulled him into a deeper, more urgent kiss. This time, it was as if you had both dropped all claims. His hands grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer, while you kept rubbing and making both of you groan.

"I thought you were trying to stay professional" he murmured against your lips, interrupting the kiss only for a moment.

"You have a special talent for making me change my mind," you replied, before picking it up again, this time with even more passion.

---

And there you were in the stadium bathroom sitting on the sink with your little dress half up while you were letting Levi fuck you.

"So good at taking my cock," Levi muttered as he smiled arrogantly as he merrily bangs his big hard dick in and out of you.

You groaned as you clung to him more feeling so good. You were trying not to scream but his cock that was banging in and out of you seemed impossible.

"Come on baby make others feel you’re a bitch in need for me" he whispered near your ear and then nibbled your lobe making you whine while your pussy was holding his cock and he groaned as he buried himself further inside.

You took Levi’s face softly and kissed him with pure passion, hunger and desire.

He groans in the kiss as he keeps pushing his cock inside you. His tongue enters your mouth, exploring it.

You began to wave your hips against his. You slowly moved away from the kiss and he didn’t waste time attacking your neck by starting to kiss and suck your weak point.

You groaned for bliss as you flapped your hips towards him for more.

"It’s so big" you whimpered and he kept banging his cock inside of you, groaning as you kept moaning out loud not caring about people who could hear you, you were close and he knew.

He started pushing faster as he was holding his hand on your neck making you whine and you came on his cock.

He continued pushing his cock inside you more harshly, you knew that he was also coming to his high, you decided to arch your back as you began to scratch his back feeling how he was piercing you with his dick, Levi lowered his head on your neck nibbling at your skin as he continued to penetrate you. He came with one blow and sighed again in your neck.

He raised his head and kissed you softly, and you kissed back.

"How about I take you on a date, huh?" Levi whispered next to your lips and you smiled.

[potato-lord-but-not]

Around 8 months ago (I can't believe its been that long either) you answered an ask about what Arthur Lester and his 3 bf's ideal positions were (top/bottom/switch), and, just out of curiosity, have you changed your mind at all about your answers? Or is John still a top, Oscar still a bottom, and Noel & Arthur both switches?

ITS BEEN THAT LONG ?!?!!?! good god oufghc anyway anyway- I think that has changed a bit and I’ll put my ramblings under cut bc well. there’s probably a bit more detail than you want out on your tumblr dash

okay Arthur hasn’t changed, he’s still a switch in my heart. I think John is still mainly a top, but he dabbles in switching positions. Like if someone realllllyyyy wants to top he’ll be like “okay :)”

Noel is definitely just a top, and he tried being the bottom once and was content to not try it again (even if Oscar was patient and gentle). Although he does top, he’s not much for penetrative sex. He has some problems getting like, physically aroused (also aforementioned preferences- he’s a bit of a voyeur, he’s got those monsterfucker tendencies, whatever the fuck he and the butcher had going on) and therefore likes to get creative with it. He definitely likes to have a bit of control during sex, not being possessive but just being in the lead.

Oscar is mainly still a bottom but I think he can switch it up if he wants because he’s hot like that. Im pretty sure this might directly contradict my earlier statements, b u t- it took him a while to be comfortable being the top, because he’s had very negative connotations with that position. He didn’t like the idea of the power imbalance during sex it could make, and that he’d be the one creating it. With enough patience tho he was willing to give it go with someone he trusted (Noel probably, and although that didn’t do much for Noel he was still great at giving pointers). Annddd I think that’s why I like bottom John and top Oscar together bc they’re going against their usual preferences and trusting the other to give them something they don’t usually get.

I feel bad for writing whole paragraphs for Noel and Oscar and jarthur just gets to share a single sentence um OOPS- uhhh o k a y

John! a switch with top preferences! he gets really aggressive with Arthur but that’s just because Arthur matches his energy. I think he also talks a lot during sex, mainly giving affirmations and praise. With Noel tho- if he’s still human then they’re just having a teasing match. Noel likes to bring out the flirt and get under John’s skin, and John is trying so hard to keep up without just being an ass. Monster John and Noel tho? all bets are off and they’re getting real freaky with it. John still makes sure to be careful and check in often incase he does something that might hurt Noel. And Noel’s like sweetheart I don’t caarrrrreeee pleaassseeee get those tendrils around me. And with Oscar he’s verrrryyyyy careful. Like he could most definitely get more rough with him, but he doesn’t want to do something wrong and have Oscar never want to be near him again. So he’s real gentle, placing more emphasis on foreplay and closeness than actual sex.

and Arthur! the guy I think about the least somehow! sorry king! a switch that is a horny little freak at heart. He’s up for a lot of things and will be down to try anything if his partner thinks they’ll like it. He’s definitely got more of a dominant personality, and I think that’s verryyy evident with, surprise surprise, Parker! Those two had some wweiirrdddd dynamics going on and thought of flirting and sex like some kinda secret game they both wanted to win. Arthur gets manipulative sometimes, but only if he knows the other person would enjoy it. I think since he’s aro, he’s got less romantic attachment to sex, and thus just really likes having sex to unwind or have some fun.

OUG I RAMBLED TOO HARD SORRY I’ll leave

[wlwsoccerfics]

Smoke(PernilleHarderXMagdaErikssonXTeenReader)

AN: as requested a Hardersson one

Warning: Smoking cigarettes, Asthma mentioned and Google translate used

Summary:your moms find cigarettes in your room.

You had no idea what was waiting for you at Home. But you found out rather quickly. As soon as you walked into the Apartment.

"y/n Smilla Eriksson-Harder!kom till vardagsrummet nu!(come to the living room right now!)" Your Mama(Magda) said in a tone that let you know you were in trouble. Not that the full name use wasn't an idication for that already. You swallowed and walked into the livingroom.

"what's wrong?" You asked, biting down on your bottom lip.

"er der noget du vil fortælle os?(is there something you want to tell us?)" Your mom(Pernille) asked. You shook your head no.

"ikke rigtig!(not really!)" You answered, having no idea what was going on.

"er det sådan?(is that so?)" Your mom tried again. Holding up the Pack of cigarettes,she had found while putting away some laundry in your sock drawer.

"vill du förklara?(care to explain?)" Your mama asked, crossing her arms over her chest. You looked down and sighed softly.

"måste jag?(do I have to?)" You wanted to know. Not really ready to talk about this. Magda looked like she was about to lose it.

"ja! rökning är farligt!(yes! smoking is dangerous!)" She told you.

"din mor har ret! du har astma, kære!(your Mama is right! you have Asthma, love!)" Pernille replied. Trying to bring into some calm Energy cause you Mama was freaking out.

"de är inte mina!(those aren't mine!)" You explained. Sighing softly.

This did calm down your Mama a bit. She was only this angry cause she was stressed. You had a few health scares growing up and she was always worrying about you. Not that your Mom wasn't worried about you but Magda surprisingly sure was the stressed out parent and more emotional.

"hvem tilhører de?(who do they belong to?)" Pernille wanted to know.

"Jeg kan ikke fortælle dig det!(I can't tell you!)" You stated. Looking away. You couldn't tell them cause the cigarettes belonged to your twin brother Iver Jerik Eriksson-Harder. And you were the one that took them away from him cause you didn't want him to smoke them . Worried about his health. You two were 16 after all.

"älskling, jag tror dig.(sweetheart, i believe you.)" Magda answered. "men jag behöver fortfarande veta varför du hade cigaretterna i ditt rum och vem de tillhör." Your Mama spoke up again.

You looked at her and then your Mom.

"Jeg kan virkelig ikke sige noget. kun at jeg bare tog dem fra den person, de tilhører, fordi jeg ikke ville have dem til at ryge. (I really can't say anything. only that I just took them away from the person they belong to because I didn't want them to smoke.)" You wanted to say something else but another voice spoke up. Entering the room.

"de tilhører mig.(they belong to me.)" Your twin brother told your moms. Pernille and Magda looked at him.

"du er i problemer.(you are in trouble.)" Your mom let your twin know.

"jeg ved det. jeg er ked af det.(i know. i am sorry.)" Iver replied and sighed softly.

Your mama hugged you and you hugged back.

"jag är ledsen för att jag anklagar dig!(i am sorry for accusing you!)" She told you.

"det är bra!(It's fine)" You replied and smiled slightly. "nu till dig, du är jordad.(now to you, you are grounded.)" Your Mama said, turning to your twin brother.

"det är rättvist.(that's fair.)" He nodded his head.

Your brother was grounded for two weeks, so you tried to spent as much time at home as possible so he wouldn't be alone so much. But you had practice and games to Focus on. And your new girlfriend. So of ourse you wanted to spent time with her as well.

[epletsplayhouse]

Authors note: I had so much fun writing this that I finished quickly. Maybe I will take longer with the next episode, as the next two weeks are very intense for me 🥲 Enjoy!!

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: angst, innocent, a bit aggresive E, fluff.

Dontcha’ think It’s time

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

Before you reached the stairs, you could listen already the clinking silverware, lively chatter, and Elvis’s booming laughter. The smell of bacon, toast, and coffee pulled you toward the dining room.

Inside, chairs scraped, voices overlapped, and the Memphis Mafia crowded around the table, plates piled high.

At the center, little Lisa Marie sat in her high chair, happily making a mess spilling cereals.

Lisa spotted you right away. Her face lit up with a big, messy grin.

“You sittin’ by me?” she asked fascinated, her voice slightly muffled by the cereal in her mouth.

“Good morning, Yisa. Of course!” you replied with a warm smile while sliding into the seat next to her.

Lisa giggled, she was excited to enjoy breakfast with you.

Elvis, seated at the head of the table, glanced up. He noticed the interaction, the way Lisa beamed at you, and that put a smile on his face.

Leaning forward slightly, his eyes softened as he said “Mornin’, sugar” his voice smooth and welcoming. “How’d ya sleep?”

You looked over at him, your nerves easing at his kind tone. “Good, thanks. The bed is really comfortable.”

“Well, that’s good to hear” he replied, leaning back in his chair, coffee in hand. “Graceland ain’t that bad, is it?”

“No, it’s really nice” you answered honestly, feeling a bit more at ease.

Elvis nodded, pleased.

Across the table, Joe piped up, breaking the short moment of calm. “Hey, E, the tailor has been waiting for you to confirm a date. Them jumpsuits of yours are about ready to give up.”

“Yeah” Red added, cutting into his pancakes with a grin. “Keep movin’ like you do on stage, and those seams ain’t got a prayer.”

The table roared with laughter as Elvis rolled his eyes, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

“You boys got jokes this mornin’, huh?” he answered back between laughs. “Tell the tailor to come by tomorrow. And careful now, you’re talkin’ to the man who makes sure y’all get breakfast every day.”

Red grinned back. “That’s true, E. But maybe if you laid off the damn bacon those seams wouldn’t be screamin’ for help.”

Elvis shot him a mock glare as the room erupted in laughter again. But before he could retort, Lisa’s little voice piped up, clear as a bell.

“Damn bacon” she let out, nodding as if she agreed with Red.

Everyone laughed at the joke except Elvis, who sighed playfully. He wasn't impressed because Lisa was at that age of repeating everything.

Setting his coffee cup down slowly, Elvis licked his lips, stretched his arms, and cracked his neck like a man about to deliver the final blow. Then, with a smirk so lethal it could knock a man flat, he pointed his fork straight at Red.

“Listen here, I ain’t eatin’ all this bacon for me, man. I’m carb-loadin’ for later… gotta keep my energy up for your mama.”

The guys detonated.

Jerry fell against Charlie, grabbing his chest like he’d been shot. Charlie was howling, pounding the table so hard the syrup bottle tipped over.

Elvis took another bite of bacon, chewed slowly, and winked.

Red threw his hands up. “Man, what the hell, E?! I ain’t even say nothin’ that bad!”

Elvis just shrugged, taking a long sip of coffee. “Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before talkin’ about me and my jumpsuits. ’Cause trust me, man, ain’t nothin’ burstin’ at the seams but your mama’s breathin’ when I walk through the door.”

“I’m done. I’m done.” Red slammed his napkin on the table.

Elvis grinned, popping another piece of bacon in his mouth. “Yeah, well… your mama ain’t.”

You sat calmly, hands resting on the table, taking it all in. You were watching and listening, completely absorbed. You didn’t understand every jab being thrown, but still. The way he shot back, so quick, so clever… it was something to admire. You fixed your eyes on him, wide with quiet awe, captivated by the effortless way he turned every joke in his favor.

You had no idea what was happening. But one thing was clear: Uncle Elvis was winning.

Elvis looked at you and instantly felt the weight of all his sins.

Red looked between you and Elvis and smirked. “Yeah, E… now you can’t say anything, huh?”

He shot Red a warning glare. “Oh, you dirty son of a…”

After few seconds Elvis swallowed real slow, suddenly feeling about ten degrees hotter. He glanced around: Charlie nudged Jerry. Jerry looked up, saw your sweet little face, and immediately covered his mouth, trying to hold in his laughter. Joe was staring directly at Elvis, mouthing, “Don’t. You. Do. It.”

Elvis cleared his throat, straightened his back, and gave you his most innocent, charming smile.

“Well now, sugar” he started smoothly, looking you dead in the eye. “Let’s just say… your ol’ Uncle does a lotta charity work”

The table lost it.

Joe was laughing quietly, struggling to catch his breath and kicking his legs. Jerry was nearly in tears. Red's face was all red, and he was mumbling something about how the Lord was testing him.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jerry added, “E, you’re going straight to hell, man.”

The playful teasing helped you unwind, and soon enough, you were laughing along with the jokes, a sense of belonging settling in.

Noticing you loosening up, Red smirked and leaned toward you. “See? Give it a year, and you’ll be just as wild as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, but for now, take it easy, Red. She’s just a little girl.” Jerry swallowed a piece of toast, smirking.

Hearing Jerry’s words stirred something inside you. Since the atmosphere they created was making you feel comfortable, you decided to bring this up. Excitement began to shine in your eyes as you declared with a smile, “Well, not for long. Uncle Elvis is gonna make me a woman.”

The room fell into an instant, stunned silence. Forks hovered midair, coffee cups stopped halfway to lips, not a single breathing, and wide-eyed glances darted across the table.

Elvis paused mid-sip, his coffee cup still hovering close to his mouth. He froze, staring at the scene blankly. Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cup dangling from his fingers as he looked around to see how everyone was reacting.

Red made the mistake of looking at Elvis, saw the absolute panic on his face, and lost the battle. His chest jerked with a barely contained snort.

Charlie’s face turned toward the ceiling, eyes shut tight, fighting for composure, while Joe shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Elvis like he was waiting for him to say something.

But the real problem, the reason the laughter was strained, the reason no one could quite look Elvis in the eye, was that the idea wasn’t actually impossible.

By experience, they all knew better.

Before Elvis could even pronounce a word, you continued innocently, completely unaware of the tension. “He said he’d teach me about what men like and how to be more confident, so I figured…”

Lisa, completely oblivious, grinned up at you, swinging her legs.

“Darlin’, I told y-“

Elvis didn’t even get to finish before Jerry leaned in, his voice low but urgent. “You might wanna hit the brakes before this train goes completely off the rails.”

In return, Elvis shot him a glare. “You think I don’t know that?”

Turning back to you, he forced a strained smile. “Now, sugar, what I meant was-“

“But you said-“

“I know what I said” Elvis cut in quickly, his voice tightening up with irritation.

Charlie decided to pour gasoline on the fire. “She’s got a point, E. You’re always braggin’ about how you know what women want.”

Elvis’s patience snapped. “Charlie, I swear to God…”

But you weren’t done. “And it makes sense, right? You said you know what men want, and if anyone can make me a woman, it’s you, Uncle Elvis!”

That was the final straw. The room went nuts, their laughter transforming into a strange mix of hiccuping, snorting, and wheezing. It sounded like a bunch of chickens getting spooked and a pack of turkeys doing their gobble thing, creating a total circus.

Elvis, however, didn’t find it funny.

“Alright, that’s enough!” he shouted. He slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump. His face was bright red, and his eyes blazed with frustration. Every time he tried to speak, someone cut him off. His patience was gone.

The room quieted suddenly, giggles dying out in an instant. Lisa's attention snapped to her father, her eyes wide and glued to his face.

You shrank in your seat, your face red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean anything bad” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Elvis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know you didn’t, sugar” he said, his voice softer but still firm. “But you can’t…you just can’t say things like that. Not like that. Not here.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you pushed your chair back. “I’m sorry” you said quickly, bolting from the room before anyone could stop you.

No one spoke. No one dared.

Elvis exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face. The men exchanged uneasy glances until Jerry finally broke the silence. “Well…that went south fast.”

Elvis shot him a warning look but remained silent.

Red smirked softly “E, this is just a taste of what’s comin’. Wait till Lisa’s her age. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Elvis glanced at Lisa, who had returned to her cereal as if nothing had happened.

“Lisa” he said tiredly, “finish your breakfast. And behave when you get older, ya hear me?”

Lisa looked up at him, confused but obedient. “Okay, Daddy” she replied, taking another bite.

As soon as breakfast was over, Elvis let out a quiet curse before standing abruptly and leaving the table.

He made his way upstairs, pausing outside your door to knock softly.

“Darlin’? You in there?”

No response. He hesitated, then turned the doorknob.

The room was empty.

Elvis’s stomach sank as he scanned the hallway, his worry mounting.

“Jerry!” he called with sharp voice. “Get everyone. She’s gone.”

You ran down the driveway of Graceland, your feet pounding on the hot pavement. As you neared the end, the city of Memphis sprawled out before you, alive with activity, a sea of unknown but filled with the promise of answers.

You didn’t stop. Not when the air burned your lungs, not when the weight of this morning’s turmoil pressed against your chest. You weaved through pedestrians.

Finally, the library stood before you.

You pushed open the doors, stepping into the cool, hushed space. “If no one’s gonna help me” you muttered under your breath, determination settling in your bones. “I’ll find out myself.”

Some time later, Elvis was behind the wheel of his Cadillac, the engine roaring as it crawled down the streets of Memphis. His knuckles were tight on the steering wheel. Jerry sat in the passenger seat, glancing anxiously between Elvis and the road ahead.

“E, you’ve been drivin’ in circles for an hour”

Elvis ignored him, his sharp blue eyes inspecting the sidewalks. “She couldn’t have gone far” he muttered.

Jerry sighed. “Look, maybe she just needed some air. She’s not gonna do anything crazy.”

“You didn’t see the way she looked when she left that table, Jerry. I snapped at her, and she ran off feelin’ like she’s got no one to talk to. Hell, I wouldn’t stick around after that, either.”

Jerry leaned back, crossing his arms. “She doesn’t know what she’s doin’. She just needs to cool off, and so do you.”

Elvis didn’t answer. He slowed the car as they passed the library, something catching his eye. He squinted at the front doors.

“There” he said suddenly, pulling over to the curb with a screech.

Jerry craned his neck. “You think she’s in there?”

Elvis didn’t reply. He threw the car into park, climbed out, and strode toward the library doors, his pace quick but steady. Jerry hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh, shoved his hands into his pockets, and leaned against the car, eyes fixed on the library doors.

You were still flipping through books, growing more and more stressed. Your fingers trembled as you picked up another, then another, the words on the pages blurring together in your frustration.

“What’s all this about?”

The deep, familiar voice made you freeze. You looked up to see Elvis standing at the end of the aisle, his hands on his hips, his eyes fixed on you.

You sighed, guilt and relief flooding your face.

Elvis walked closer, crouching down so he was eye level with you. His gaze softened when he saw the pile of books around you, and the frustration written all over your face. “What are you doin’ in here, honey? You had us all worried.”

You glanced down at the book in your hands, fidgeting with the corner of the page. “I just…I thought maybe the library would help. My parents always said books have the answers, but none of these books explain anything about…”

“About what?” Elvis asked gently, his tone calm and patient now.

You hesitated, then blurted out, “About how to be a woman. I thought if no one was gonna help me, I’d figure it out myself. But these books don’t make sense!”

He glanced at the titles around you, understanding dawning on his face. “Sugar,” he said softly, “you don’t need no books for that.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glossy with tears. “Then how am I supposed to learn? I just…I want to understand what I’m supposed to do, what I’m supposed to be.”

Elvis let out a long breath, sitting down on the floor beside you, leaning his back against the bookshelf. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared down at the books scattered around you.

“Listen to me, darlin’” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “There ain’t no book out there that’s gonna tell you how to be a woman. That’s somethin’ you figure out on your own, little by little.”

“But I don’t even know where to start” you said, your voice small.

Elvis reached out, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you look at him. “I’ll help ya, honey, as best as I can. But don’t go running off thinking you’re on your own.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you sniffled, nodding. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I know you didn’t” he said, his voice soft. “And I didn’t mean to snap at you. That’s on me, sugar. M’sorry.”

You nodded again, the tension in your chest starting to ease. Elvis stood, brushing off his pants, and extended a hand to you.

“C’mon” he said with a small smile. “Let’s get you back home. You got the whole house worried about ya.”

The rest of the day, you felt a little more at ease.

For the first time in a long while, you felt supported. Like maybe… you weren’t so alone after all.

Even so, when night fell, sleep wouldn’t come.

You tossed and turned, kicking off the blanket, pulling it back on again, but nothing helped. Your mind wouldn’t settle.

Finally, with a sigh, you pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed. You hesitated at the doorway.

You still felt a little uncomfortable moving around on your own in a house that wasn’t yours. Everything felt too big, too unfamiliar, too grand. But waking someone up? That felt even worse.

So, you forced yourself forward.

Graceland was different at night. The house was silent, dimly lit, wrapped in shadows. The soft white carpet felt cool under your bare feet.

When you reached the kitchen, you traced your fingers along the cabinets, finding the fridge by touch alone. The soft glow illuminated the space as you pulled it open.

Carefully, you poured the milk and warmed it up the way your mother used to.

The moment the warmth hit your fingertips, you sighed, finally feeling something familiar. Something that felt safe.

You were ready to take that first, much-needed sip, and then you realized you weren’t alone.

Leaning against the counter, watching you, stood Elvis. His robe was hanging loosely, and his hair was messy, making him look different.

Finally, he spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, rough from the lateness of the hour.

You shook your head, “You either?” still gripping your glass.

Elvis let out a quiet huff, lifting the drink in his hand slightly. “I don’t do much of that these days.”

You hesitated, shifting slightly before finally stepping toward the counter, perching on one of the stools. You suddenly felt small in the space, small in his presence.

Elvis’s gaze flickered over you, noticing something, thinking, but keeping it to himself. He took a slow sip of his drink before exhaling through his nose.

“I told you I’d teach you a few tips, and I meant that” he murmured, his voice steady. “But I think you already learned the first lesson on your own.”

You frowned slightly. “What lesson?”

Elvis leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter.

“You had initiative to do what your heart wanted” he said. “You made a decision for yourself, without anyone tellin’ you what to do.” A small smirk touched his lips. “And… you’re willin’ to change. That’s admirable, sugar.”

A warm feeling curled in your chest.

Elvis wasn’t the kind of man who gave compliments easily, not the ones that mattered.

But just as the moment started to feel too heavy, too serious.

He suddenly leaned back, stretching slightly.

“Ah, and also” he added, pointing at you, “you’re grounded for escapin’.”

You nearly choked on your milk. “What?!”

Elvis smirked, taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah. Sorry, young lady, but I gotta stick to it.”

“You don’t even ground people!”

“I do now” he said, chuckling. “First time for everything.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “This is so unfair.”

Elvis just shook his head, his laughter soft but real.

The moment softened, and for a second, it almost felt normal again.

Then, you studied him a little closer. His face wasn’t guarded like it usually was. He seemed… different.

“You look different at night,” you said out of nowhere, tilting your head.

Elvis raised a brow, smirking slightly. “That so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your milk. “Yeah. You seem… I don’t know. Less like ‘Elvis Presley’ and more like… just you.”

Elvis exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head. “Darlin’, I don’t even know what ‘just me’ is anymore.”

You frowned, watching him carefully. “Well… I think you’re the best person I know.”

That made him stop.

His fingers tensed subtly around his glass. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to speak, but then he hesitated. He had spent years battling to separate the man from the artist, struggling for people to see the difference between who he was and who they expected him to be. But you were too young to understand the weight of that fight, and he wasn’t about to launch into a speech. Instead, he swallowed the thought, keeping it to himself.

You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to believe you. So you continued.

“I…I think you’re kind, and funny, and you make everyone feel safe. And I don’t think people tell you that enough.”

Elvis stared at you, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

His blue eyes flickered in the dim light, studying your face. Then, before you could think, his hand lifted, fingers grazing along your cheek.

“Appreciate it, darlin’”he said, his smile warm and sincere.

The touch was light, barely there, but it sent a strange feeling through you.

It was warm. It was soft. It made something deep in your stomach flutter in a way you didn’t understand.

You looked up at him, your breath hitching slightly. He was so tall, and his hand seemed enormous compared to your face.

Elvis seemed to realize how you were reacting to what he had just done.

His hand lingered just a second too long, his thumb brushing the corner of your jaw, before he suddenly pulled away like if the surface was burning, clearing his throat.

Elvis shifted, suddenly looking tense, uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, reaching for his drink like he needed something to do.

You swallowed, confused by the strange feeling left behind.

The athmosphere in the kitchen felt heavier now. Different.

Elvis downed the rest of his drink in one go and turned his back to you.

“Alright, honey” he said, voice tighter now, forced into something lighter. “Time for bed.”

You hesitated, still feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.

But finally, you nodded.

“Okay.”

You slid off the stool, heading for the doorway.

Elvis didn’t turn around.

As you walked back to your room, you weren’t sure what had just happened.

You didn’t know why your heart was beating too fast.

You didn’t know why your skin still felt warm.

And you didn’t know why as soon as the door clicked shut behind you…

Elvis let out a long, sharp breath and muttered under his breath, “Shit.”

Part 3 here!

Tag: @iloveelvisss

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 16

After watching Kylian give his all on the pitch for over two hours with his Real Madrid teammates and subsequently play a key role in securing their advance in the Champions League, it was evident why he, among so many, had been chosen to captain the French national team. He was a natural-born leader whose playing style could improve those around him.

Giselle couldn't take her eyes off him as he slumped beside her on his living room sofa. Despite his body running low on energy after the evening's events, his mind was still fast at work.

“So, what does it mean to be the captain of the French national team?” Giselle asked with genuine curiosity as she settled onto the plush sofa beside Kylian. The soft fabric enveloping them in comfort after such a busy day.

“Are you a journalist?” he teased playfully, a smile creeping across his face. He tilted his head back slightly, allowing himself to relax into the cushions as he focused his full attention on her, his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

“I’m just trying to figure out how you carry so much and make it look easy,” Giselle shrugged, allowing Kylian to pull her into his lap.

“It's not easy, but I deal with it. I am living my dream,” Kylian replied, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands found Giselle's hips. Their eyes met in a lingering gaze that held unspoken thoughts and shared ambitions.

Giselle felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, grounded by the intensity of his presence. “I can see that. It must be exhilarating, standing on the pitch, the crowd chanting your name,” she replied, allowing herself to lean closer, their faces inches apart.

“It is. But it comes with pressure,” he admitted, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her waist, a gesture both tender and electrifying. “I have to inspire my teammates, lead them through victories and defeats alike.”

“I can't think of anyone more suited for that role,” Giselle replied softly, lost momentarily in the depths of his dark eyes. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and it was intoxicating. “You've already conquered so much at such a young age.”

“I try to keep my feet on the ground,” Kylian answered with a smile, though his expression grew more serious. “But sometimes it feels like I carry not just my dreams but the hopes of everyone around me.”

Giselle bit her lip, trying to mask her admiration. Yet there was something undeniably magnetic about him—his passion, his vulnerability, the way he spoke about the weight he bore with such grace. It pulled her in closer, the air between them thickening with a mix of desire and connection. “That’s a lot to carry,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. But you do it so well.”

Kylian's gaze flickered down to her lips before returning to her eyes, his breath hitching slightly. “It helps to have people who understand,” he replied, his tone low and inviting. There was an intimacy in the moment, heightened by the closeness of their bodies.

“Go and lie down,” Giselle whispered against Kylian’s lips, her smile curving as she felt his body relax beneath her while she straddled his lap.

“I have to pack,” he drawled as his hands moved to her waist, squeezing her gently. “We leave for Paris tomorrow afternoon.”

Giselle leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin. “I can pack for you,” she persuaded, drawing circles on his chest with her fingertips. “Tonight was a tough game, I got it.”

Standing from his lap, Giselle took Kylian's hand and pulled him up from the living room sofa so they could head upstairs to his bedroom.

Hooking his finger through a loop in the back of her jeans, Kylian pulled her body back into his, his free hand resting on her stomach. He pushed his face into the crease of her neck, allowing Giselle to guide him.

As Giselle led him up the staircase, Kylian found himself captivated by the graceful sway of her hips. The denim jeans she wore clung to her curves, accentuating her figure and igniting a spark of admiration within him.

His hand instinctively settled possessively on her waist as he followed her, a silent acknowledgment of their connection. Once they reached his bedroom, he confidently kicked the door shut behind them with a soft thud while Giselle made a beeline for his walk-in closet, her movements fluid and purposeful, as if she belonged there.

Kylian leaned against the doorframe as he watched her pull his silver Rimowa suitcase into the center of the room so she could get down onto her knees and unzip it.

Kylian's eyes followed Giselle's every move, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her kneel before his suitcase. The sight of her on her knees, even in such an innocent context, stirred something primal within him. He pushed off the doorframe and stalked towards her, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet.

Taking a seat on the leather bench situated in the corner of the room, Kylian settled in to watch her, feeling an undeniable pull of desire as he took in the way her body moved with grace and intent.

Giselle looked up at him from her position, her eyes glimmering with a playful challenge. “What do you need, captain?”

“You,” Kylian replied, his voice deep and resolute, a hunger simmering just beneath the surface. The playful banter had shifted, replaced with a tension that crackled in the air like static before a storm.

Giselle's heart raced as she felt the weight of his gaze on her. It was as if he could see right through her, unraveling the layers of admiration and desire that intertwined in her chest. She bit her lip, an involuntary reaction to the raw magnetism between them.

“Me?” she repeated, her tone teasing yet laced with an unmistakable eagerness. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder, the gesture revealing the delicate line of her neck, inviting.

“Yes,” Kylian affirmed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his posture radiating both confidence and a primal draw. “I only need the basics, I can arrange the rest back home in Paris.”

Giselle's heart fluttered at Kylian's words, a warmth spreading through her chest. She stood up slowly, closing the distance between them until she was standing directly in front of him. Her eyes locked with his, a silent challenge passing between them.

"Just the basics, huh?" she murmured, her voice low and sultry. She placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his jersey. "I think I can handle that."

Kylian's hands came to rest on her hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulled her closer. "I have no doubt," he replied, his accent thickening with his growing arousal. "You've been handling me quite well so far."

Giselle leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I have, haven't I? Let's see how well I can pack for you then."

She stepped back, breaking the contact, and turned to the closet. Kylian watched her intently, his eyes never leaving her form as she moved with purpose. Giselle pulled out his essentials: underwear, socks, T-shirts, and a couple of sweatsuits, and olaced them into his suitcase.

Kylian stood, walking over to her. As he approached, Giselle felt his presence behind her, a silent promise of the passion to come. She continued folding his clothes, trying to maintain a semblance of focus despite the distraction of his closeness.

His hands slid around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Giselle let out a soft gasp, her body molding to his as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together. Kylian's lips found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, placing a gentle kiss there before nipping lightly.

"You're distracting me," Giselle breathed, tilting her head to give him better access. Her hands faltered in their task, the shirt she was folding slipping from her grasp.

Kylian chuckled low in his throat, the vibrations sending shivers down Giselle's spine. "Am I now?" he murmured against her skin, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts through her shirt. "Perhaps that's the point."

Giselle arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Kylian," she breathed, his name a plea and a warning all in one. "We're supposed to be packing."

"You are almost done," he countered, spinning her around to face him. His eyes were dark with desire, his pupils dilated. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to tangle with hers. Giselle melted against him, her arms winding around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

Kylian's hands roamed her body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. Giselle clung to him, her fingers gripping his shirt, deepening the kiss.

As Kylian laid Giselle down on the bed, he broke the kiss to trail his lips along her jawline and down her neck. His hands slipped under her shirt, pushing it up to reveal her bare skin. Giselle gasped as his calloused fingers brushed against her sensitive flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Kylian's lips found her collarbone, placing openmouthed kisses along the bone before moving lower. He tugged her shirt off completely, tossing it aside carelessly. Giselle arched her back, offering herself to him as his mouth closed around one of her nipples, sucking and teasing the hardened peak.

Her hands fisted in his top, holding him close as waves of pleasure washed over her. Kylian's other hand slid down her stomach, popping the button on her jeans and slipping inside. His fingers brushed against her center, and Giselle bucked against his hand, a moan escaping her lips.

"You're so wet and warm for me," Kylian murmured against her skin, his breath hot and heavy. "I have barely even touched you."

Kylian's fingers teased her through the fabric of her panties, the thin material doing little to hide her arousal. Giselle writhed beneath him, her hips lifting to meet his touch, silently begging for more.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice thick with need. "I want you."

Kylian growled low in his throat, the sound primal and possessive. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and panties, pulling them down her legs in one swift motion. Giselle kicked them off the rest of the way, leaving her bare before him.

He took a moment to admire her, his eyes dark with hunger as they raked over her body. Giselle felt exposed and vulnerable, but the look in Kylian's eyes made her feel powerful and desired. She spread her legs invitingly, a silent offer.

“Play with yourself,” Kylian commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see how you're going to make yourself cum while I am away.”

Giselle's breath hitched at his words, a wave of heat flooding her core as she let her hands trail down her body, cupping her breasts before moving lower.

Her fingers brushed against her clit, and she gasped at the sensation. Kylian's eyes were glued to her touch, his breathing heavy as he watched her pleasure herself. Giselle circled her clit, teasing herself, building the heat within her body.

"More," Kylian urged, his voice a low growl.

Giselle's fingers moved faster, circling her clit with increasing pressure. She arched her back, her hips lifting off the bed as she chased her release. Kylian's eyes were riveted to her touch, his breathing growing heavier each second.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "Show me how you like it."

Giselle's fingers slipped lower, teasing her entrance before plunging inside. She cried out at the sudden intrusion, her walls clamping around her digits. Kylian's eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful like this," he breathed, his hand moving to palm his hardening length through his sweats.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a fierce intensity as he watched Giselle pleasure herself. The sight of her fingers moving between her legs, her back arching off the bed, was almost too much to bear. He could feel his arousal pressing urgently against the confines of his sweats, demanding release.

"Let me taste," he growled, his voice low and commanding. He crawled up the bed, settling between her spread legs. Giselle's fingers stilled, her chest heaving as she looked down at him with heavylidded eyes.

Kylian didn't hesitate. He leaned in, his tongue replacing her fingers as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe up her center. Giselle cried out, her hands flying to his head, his tapered waves cut too low to grasp. Kylian groaned against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body.

He feasted on her like a man starved, his tongue circling her clit before sucking it between his lips. Giselle's hips bucked against his mouth, her thighs clamping around his head as she chased her release. Kylian's hands gripped her thighs, pinning her in place as he continued his assault.

"Kylian, baby, I'm going to cum!” Giselle moaned, a squeal ripping from her throat as she tensed, her walls clamping around his tongue as she came undone. Kylian didn't let up, his tongue continuing to lap at her through her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until she was a trembling, boneless mess beneath him.

As the last waves of her orgasm subsided, Kylian lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal. He crawled up her body, capturing her mouth in a scorching kiss, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue.

Giselle kissed him back eagerly, her hands roaming his muscular back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel his hard length pressing against her core, and she arched her hips, seeking friction.

Kylian groaned into her mouth, his hips rolling against hers. "I need to be inside you," he muttered against her lips, his voice strained with desire.

"I want to taste you first," Giselle breathed, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Kylian."

Kylian's eyes darkened at Giselle's request, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He rolled off her, settling onto his back and pulling her with him. "Come here then," he said, his voice low and inviting.

Giselle didn't hesitate. She crawled down his body, her nails trailing over his abs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers, tugging them down his hips and thighs until his hard length sprang free.

She took a moment to admire him as she got onto her knees at the foot of the bed, acutely aware of how good Kylian looked sat before her, his strong thighs parted as his dick hung heavily between his legs, the bulbous tip oozing with pre-cum.

Giselle leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his sensitive skin. She licked her lips, savoring the salty-sweet taste of his precum before wrapping her hand around the base of his shaft. Kylian groaned, his hips jerking slightly at the contact.

She looked up at him through her lashes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she slowly licked a stripe up his length. Kylian's breath hitched, his fingers tangling in her hair as he watched her with hooded eyes.

"Fuck, Giselle," he breathed his accent thickening with his arousal and need.

Giselle hummed in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him. She took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth as she sank down inch by inch. Kylian's head fell back against the pillows, a low moan escaping his lips as she began to bob her head.

Her tongue swirled around his tip, teasing the sensitive underside as she sucked him deep. Kylian's grip on her hair tightened, his hips lifting to meet her movements.

Kylian's eyes snapped open, his gaze intense as he stared down at Giselle. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his muscles taut with restraint. He watched her every move, his pupils blown wide with desire.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Just like that."

His hips rolled gently, meeting the motion of her mouth. The sensation of her lips wrapped around him, her tongue teasing his sensitive flesh, was almost too much to bear. Kylian's fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her movements.

Giselle's eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan vibrating around his length as she took him deeper. She could taste the salty tang of his arousal and feel the pulse of his heartbeat against her tongue. The power she held over him in this moment was intoxicating.

Kylian's grip on her hair tightened, his hips jerking as she swallowed around him. "Fuck, Giselle," he gasped, his accent thick with pleasure. "Your mouth feels so good."

He held her there for a moment, his length throbbing against her tongue. Kylian's eyes darkened, a fierce intensity burning in their depths as he stared down at Giselle. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he struggled to maintain control.

"I need to be inside you," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Right fucking now."

With a swift motion, he pulled Giselle off his length and onto her feet. His hands gripped her hips, spinning her around and bending her over the edge of the bed. Giselle gasped, her fingers digging into the sheets as she felt the heat of his body press against her back.

Kylian's hands roamed her curves, squeezing and caressing as he positioned himself behind her.

The tip of his hard length brushed against her wet folds, teasing her entrance. Giselle arched her back, pressing herself against him, silently begging for more. Kylian's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fought for control.

"Tell me what you want, Giselle," he demanded, his voice a low rumble against her ear. "Tell me how you need me."

"I want you inside me," Giselle panted, her voice thick with desire. "I need you to fuck me, Kylian. Please."

With a primal growl, Kylian thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside her tight heat. Giselle cried out, her walls clamped around him as she adjusted to his size. Kylian stilled, his forehead resting against her shoulder as he fought to regain his composure.

Slowly, he began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. Giselle pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Kylian's hands gripped her hips, his fingers leaving bruises on her skin as he pounded into her.

"Yes, just like that," she whimpered. “Kylian, you're so deep.”

Kylian's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her with increasing fervor. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his accent thickening with his arousal. "You like feeling me deep inside you."

Giselle could only moan in response, her words lost to the pleasure coursing through her veins. Kylian's thrusts became more erratic, his pace quickening as he chased his release. The sound of their bodies coming together echoed through the room, mingling with their labored breaths and cries of pleasure.

Kylian leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he wrapped an arm around her waist. His hand slipped between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and circling the sensitive nub.

“It's perfect,” Giselle mewled, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt the head of Kylian’s cock kiss feverishly against her cervix.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a fierce intensity as he stared down at Giselle, his gaze locked onto the point where their bodies were joined. He could feel every inch of her, her walls gripping him like a velvet fist, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel you squeezing me, baby."

His hips snapped forward, driving into her with a newfound urgency. Giselle cried out, her fingers scrabbling at the sheets as she tried to anchor herself against the force of his thrusts. Kylian's arm tightened around her waist, holding her in place as he pounded into her relentlessly.

"That's it, take it," he urged, his accent thickening with his arousal. "Take every inch of my cock."

Giselle's body trembled beneath Kylian's, her muscles quivering with the effort to hold herself up as he drove into her. She could feel the tension coiling in her core, her orgasm building with each powerful thrust.

"Yes, Kylian," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies coming together. "Harder, please,” she pleaded as their eyes met over her shoulder.

Kylian's eyes darkened with desire at Giselle's plea, his grip on her hips tightening as he obliged her request. He slammed into her with renewed vigor, his hips pistoning in a relentless rhythm that had Giselle seeing stars.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she cried out, her voice breaking with pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building, the tension in her core coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust. Kylian's fingers continued to circle her clit, pushing her closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," Kylian growled, his voice a low rumble against her ear. "Cum for me. I want to feel you squeeze my cock."

His words, combined with the relentless pace of his thrusts, sent Giselle over the edge.

Giselle's body convulsed beneath Kylian's, her walls clamping down around his length as she came undone. A scream tore from her throat, her fingers digging into the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Kylian's thrusts faltered, his own release washing over him as he spilled himself inside her with a guttural groan.

He collapsed onto her back, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Giselle's body trembled beneath him, her breathing ragged and uneven.

Slowly, Kylian rolled off her, pulling Giselle with him so that she was tucked against his side. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her back.

"You're so perfect,” Giselle whispered, her lips ghosting against Kylian's jaw as she reached up to cup his face in her hands, turning his head so she could press a kiss to his mouth.

Kylian smiled against her lips, a mixture of satisfaction and affection swirling in his gaze. "You’re the perfect distraction," he murmured back, his fingertips grazing her arm softly, tracing the outline of her skin as if memorizing every curve and contour.

Giselle felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his words. Amid the chaos of their lives—the pressures of fame and the relentless pursuit of dreams—this connection felt like a safe harbor. She nestled closer, seeking the warmth of his body.

“I should pack for you more often,” she teased, her voice light and playful, though she could feel the sincerity beneath it. The afterglow of their shared moment settled around them, making everything else outside seem distant and unimportant.

After some time had slipped by, and Giselle's legs, once trembling like jelly, regained their strength, she slowly rose from Kylian's bed. The soft sheets rustled gently around her as she made her way toward the bathroom. The cool air brushed against her skin, sending a refreshing chill through her body. She felt the pressing urge to empty her bladder before indulging in a shower.

As she stepped into the bathroom, Giselle cast a glance back at Kylian, who was propped up on the bed, watching her with an expression that mixed admiration with something smoldering. The sight of him, tousled and satisfied, sent another wave of warmth through her.

She closed the bathroom door behind her, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and process the heady aftermath of their encounter. The adrenaline still hummed beneath her skin as she washed her hands, glancing into the mirror. The reflection that met her eyes was flushed and wild, hair tousled and lips slightly swollen from their kisses. A smile crept onto her face—an echo of the excitement she felt earlier.

After tending to her needs, she turned on the shower, letting the soothing water cascade over her as she adjusted the temperature. The steam quickly filled the space, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She relished the sensation, the water washing away not just the remnants of their passionate encounter but the day’s stresses as well.

The sound of the water was meditative, a backdrop to her thoughts as she lost herself in the moment. She thought of Kylian—his fierce determination, the way he led and inspired, but also the passion he had shared with her. It was a rare glimpse into a world that felt both exhilarating and overwhelming.

When she was done, Giselle stepped out of the shower, pulling on Kylian’s robe before making her way back into the bedroom. The material was soft against her skin, and it hung loosely around her shoulders, the scent of his cologne lingering, making her feel even more connected to him.

Kylian was still in the same position, his eyes following her every movement, a lazy grin spreading across his face as she returned to the room.

“Come here,” he called softly, extending his hand as if inviting her into a world that only they shared. There was something about the look in his eyes, a mixture of playfulness and intensity, that sent a shiver down her spine.

Giselle crossed the room, the plush carpet cushioning her feet as she moved toward the bed. She took Kylian's hand, and he pulled her closer, his strong fingers intertwining with hers. As she settled beside him, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, pulling her in.

“Do you trust me?” Kylian asked, his tone shifting to a more serious note. The playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced by a deeper intensity, and Giselle’s heart raced at the weight of his question.

“Of course,” she replied, a breathless assurance lacing her voice.

“Because I trust you,” Kylian continued, his gaze unwavering. "You are so important to me."

Giselle felt her heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a warm embrace. “I trust you more than anyone,” she managed to reply, her voice softer now as tears glistened in her hazel eyes.

“Good,” Kylian nodded, his gaze softening as he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But you don't need to cry about it,” he smirked teasingly.

Giselle let out a soft laugh, her heart feeling lighter under the weight of his playful teasing. “I’m not crying,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes even as a warm flush crept onto her cheeks. “I just… I didn’t expect this connection when we met.”

Kylian’s expression shifted, turning serious again as he regarded her with a mix of affection and intensity. “Neither did I,” he admitted, his voice lower as he leaned in closer. “But it feels right, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” she agreed, her breath catching slightly in her throat as their eyes locked. The shared intimacy of the moment sent thrills through her as she leaned in closer, drawn by an invisible force.

He reached over to cup her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone. “You make me feel human,” he confessed softly, and Giselle could feel the earnestness in his words. “When I’m on the pitch, I have to lead, when I am playing for my country I am a captain. But with you…” He paused, searching her eyes. “With you, I can just be Kylian.”

Giselle felt her heart swell at his honesty. This side of him—the vulnerable, unguarded Kylian—was something she hadn’t expected to encounter. It was refreshing, intoxicating even, and she craved to explore this deeper connection.

“That’s all I want you to be,” Giselle said, her voice sincere. “You are amazing, Kylian.”

Kylian's eyes softened at her words, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "You really believe that?" he asked, that hint of vulnerability surfacing again.

"Absolutely," Giselle replied earnestly, her fingers brushing over his hand. “But I also know that you are practically running on empty, so I need you to get some rest.”

Kylian chuckled softly, the warmth of her words enveloping him like a soft blanket. “You may be right,” he conceded, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her snugly against his side.

“I know I'm right,” Giselle smiled softly. “Go to sleep,

Kylian.”

He sighed contentedly, his arm draping protectively around her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment surrounded them, a cocoon of warmth and laughter that neither wanted to break.

As Kylian closed his eyes, Giselle felt a mixture of affection and admiration for the man beside her. He had come alive on the pitch with an undeniable passion, but now he lay vulnerable next to her, shedding the weight of expectations.

Giselle nestled closer, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against her shoulder. She could sense the slow pull of sleep luring him under, and the sense of safety enveloping her was intoxicating.

The following morning Kylian and Giselle were woken up by the piercing shrill of his phone alarm, neither of them ready to face the reality of the day. Giselle stirred first, feeling the warmth of Kylian's body beside her and the soft outlines of the room slowly coming into focus. She smiled softly, memories of the previous night flooding her mind like a warm wave.

Kylian groaned, rolling over to reach for his phone on the nightstand, and Giselle couldn't help but admire the way the morning light cascaded over his muscles, highlighting the contours of his physique. He looked so peaceful, yet the world outside was beginning to nudge him awake.

"Five more minutes," Kylian mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as his arm fell across Giselle's waist, pulling her closer. She laughed softly, momentarily allowing herself to indulge in this little bubble of intimacy before the pressures of life returned.

"You're going to be late if you keep this up," she teased, shifting slightly to escape the spell of his strong embrace. "You've got a flight to catch, remember?"

Kylian cracked one eye open, just enough to see her mischievous smile. "You’re right," he said, reluctantly releasing her as he sat up, running a hand over his head.

“I’m always right,” Giselle added playfully, swinging her legs off the bed. She stood up, the soft robe fluttering around her thighs, her heart still dancing with the remnants of the night they'd shared.

A night where, despite conversations and verbal confirmations, it was abundantly clear that Giselle and Kylian had found themselves in the midst of something profound and undeniably deep. A bond so profound that losing it would create an emptiness in each of their lives.

[a-regular-amount-of-spiders]

When's The Last Time You Felt Safe (BirdFlash)

Birdflash Oneshot, 18+ Details Below

Caretaker Dom Wally, silly fluffy smut. Some Emotional Hurt/Comfort Dick winces as he tries to gingerly press an ice pack against his back, the top of his suit striped off on the floor. He’d been shot, luckily nothing that made it past his armor, but unluckily bruising the hell out of his back. He’s got green, purple, red, and blue dappled all across his body from the night, trying to get too many kids away from too many traffickers. His breath hitches as the memory of the limp bodies of the people he’d failed refuse to leave him. The mission had objectively been as successful as it could have been, but it didn’t feel like enough. He never felt like enough and he was just so very tired. Tired enough to miss the flash of red and orange as it blitzed into his room, but not so much that he didn't flinch as the ice pack was taken from him. He twisted around so quickly that his body screamed in protest, and he winced as he took in the concerned face of Wally, dressed in sweats and a soft shirt. You okay Rob?” Those verdant eyes stare down at him, the worry held within barely covering the steely stubbornness that lets Dick know that Wally won’t accept a lie right now. He shifts a bit uncomfortably, turning away, as though he could hide from the hurt festering in every grain of his soul these days. “You worry too much Walls.” He replies, instead of answering the question. Even looking away he can’t stand to lie to him. He hears the man sigh, and feels the air in the room circulate. When Dick opens his eyes, Wally is crouched in front of him, so he can make eye contact, resting his hands lightly on Dick’s knees. “Let me take care of you?” He asks, so earnestly that Dick feels guilty for the rush it sends down his spine, shame twisting in his gut immediately. Horrifyingly he wants to cry, as though he remembers how, and just let Wally bear the weight of the world for him. But he can’t, he couldn’t stand the guilt that would follow. Dick cannot allow himself to be selfish, it never ends well. So he swallowed thickly, and forced the correct words out. “You don’t have to do that.” Dick knows that’s what he’s supposed to say, which would prompt Wally, all midwestern politeness, to ask ‘are you sure’ and Dick would say yes, Wally would leave and he’d be all alone again, no one around, a poison no one wants- “I want to. Please let me.” Wally breaks the script, squeezing his knees and breaking Dick out of his thoughts. He’s saying “Okay” before he can even register that he’s spoken. But Wally is smiling so maybe that was exactly what he was supposed to say. “Do you want to be in something more comfortable?” He asks carefully, because Wally figured out ages ago that Dick got weird about touch sometimes, and now he always telegraphed, always asked. Dick hated it. He needed it, and he hates that he needs it. It was different when they were younger. He misses that. He nods though, because he never minds when Wally gets in his space, and he’ll be out of his suit before he can overthink it. There’s no one else who can do this for him, so he may as well take advantage of the times it is offered.

 Wally cleans up his things, and he thinks he hears his laundry starting which he’s been ignoring for two weeks now. Wally helps him change into sweats and it makes the heat of embarrassment swell in his chest, is he really this incapable? But there’s food in his lap and the tv is flipped on to a silly movie he’d mentioned wanting to see once, and Wally is asking if he can put some sort of ointment on his bruises so Dick doesn’t have time to dwell too deeply on it. He looks at the plate of warm pizza slices now in his hands, the box on the table from that place he’d found by the Titan’s Tower and always got for celebrations. “You ran to Jump City to get me dinner?” Dick mutters, unable to muster enough energy for incredulity just yet. “All things considered, that’s not very far for me” Wally replies, shaking the ointment in his hand with a raised brow. Dick nods, taking a bite of the pizza. It’s a comforting, familiar taste that warms his whole body. Nostalgia that chases the icy loneliness from the edges of his body. He scarfs it down quickly, feeling significantly better. He hadn’t realized how woozy and cold he’d felt until it went away. “Better?” He can hear the smile in Wally’s voice as he stands behind him, long fingers gently rubbing the bruise cream along the injuries spotting his back. Dick tries to pay attention to the movie, but the feeling of Wally’s hand skating so gently across his skin is better than any lullaby. A blanket is pulled over him, and the heaviness of the weighted fabric is soothing, but there’s a lingering self hatred lying in the shadow of Dick’s enjoyment. “Yeah” He responds, rough and quiet, feeling raw and shelled out. He shivers when Wally moves away. His friend plops down on the couch, propping one leg up so it’s resting against the backrest, and the other is hanging off the side. “C’mere Rob, I’ve got you.” Wally says, so painfully tender. Dick tips over curling against the lean line of his best friend, a long buried ache settling as those lithe arms wrap around him loosely. He shakes apart without a sound, he doesn’t know if he could make noise when he cried even if he really wanted to. Or if the strangled sort of way emotions tear out of him could even be called crying. Wally’s fingers card through his hair. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t press, doesn’t insist on seeing, but he doesn’t awkwardly turn away either. Wally comforts him in a way that helps, understands him in a way no one else ever bothered to learn. He’s a steady, patient presence at his side, and Dick can’t help but feel like an alley cat being coaxed from a crack in the wall. “A lot of people died today” He whispers into the fabric of Wally’s central city college shirt. The hand in his hair pauses, before continuing. So Dick keeps talking. “I should have found them faster. If I’d kept a better eye on my city then I would have known sooner and I-” He cuts himself off “I know that’s not reasonable. I know it won’t fix it. I just-” He wishes the crushing feeling would go away “I wish it got easier. I wish I didn’t feel this way every single time” Wally doesn’t tell him it isn’t his fault, doesn’t tell him he did his best, doesn’t give him the argument he wants and doesn’t need. Doesn’t give him the space to hurt himself on his own words. Instead he just holds him close, and says “I know, Rob” and somehow breathing gets easier. “You don’t have to stay.” Dick says, even as his arms wrap tightly around Wally’s waist. Even as he presses just a little closer. “If I leave, will you be able to sleep?” Wally asks in that measured tone, the one he uses when he knows the answer. Dick doesn’t answer, and feels petulant for it. He presses his face into Wally’s chest and cries more, letting his guard down for the first time in however long it's been since Wally stayed the night last. Dick cries, as much as he ever can, until he falls asleep, falling again, always falling.

Dick wakes up slowly, to the warm smell of a fresh made breakfast. He still feels like he’s falling until Wally's head peeks around the corner, hair a mess and grin wild, some dollar store apron tied with a messy bow. That’s when his body realizes that there’s someone here to catch him this time, that he was finally right to make the leap. He smiles back, hauling himself up to follow the delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen.

“You made breakfast?” Dick asks, despite seeing the huge spread across his too small dining table.

“Well I was hungry, and someone has got to take care of you” Wally’s voice is low in his ear and Dick shifts a bit uncomfortably. Why does he have to get so close when he says things like that? Next thing he knows, he’s sitting at the table, plate piled high with food, staring bewildered at Wally.

“I-” He blinks, adjusting to being moved somewhere by a speedster, “I can’t eat all these Walls.” He takes a bite of the pancakes, and groans “Nevermind, I’m eating everything at this table.”

Wally laughs “C’mon man, I know how to look after you by now.” His keen gaze suddenly makes Dick feel transparent, and a part of him frantically wonders why in god's name Wally has to talk to him like that, but he’s able to suppress his reaction with the ease of someone who’s been doing it since his teen years.

“You don’t have to help me this much, you know?” Dick protests weekly between bites. “No?” Wally hums noncommittal, pressing a glass of water into Dick’s hand. “And if I want to?” There’s something almost predatory about the way he asks it, but perhaps that’s wishful thinking. “Then…” He takes a sip of water  “Then go ahead I guess.” There’s a strange tension in the kitchen as he eats, Dick can tell Wally’s attention is more on him than on the food in front of him, which is making him feel a bit hysterical given that very little pulls a speedster’s attention away from their food. Wally’s gaze holds a weight to it, and Dick has to keep reminding himself that Wally is probably just worried. He resolutely ignores the part of his mind noting that he feels mostly alright now, and that Wally knows him well enough to see that. He finishes his food and tucks all his emotions in a box, standing and putting his plate away. The table is cleared and the dishes are done by the time he reaches the sink. He smiles at his friend, who still has that slightly too serious expression on his face that leaves Dick feeling off kilter, and on edge. He can tell there’s something being left unsaid, and Wally wants him to be fully aware of that. However, Dick can’t bring himself to ask. Irrationally and despite all insistence otherwise, he can’t prevent himself from being scared that if he asks, if they broach whatever conversation is hanging in the air, that Wally will put distance between them. He’s scared that Wally will ask for space, or tell him that he’s aware of and doesn’t share Dick’s feelings. That those feelings make him uncomfortable. Wally waits a moment, and can’t hide the disappointment that briefly laces his expression. Seeing that is like a lance, and Dick wants very badly to make it up to him, would that he knew the cause of the disappointment to begin with. “Wanna play a game or something?” Dick hedges, only relaxing when he sees Wally’s smile return. “How about you pick something to play, and I work out some of the tension in your shoulders and back? Your controllers have too much input lag for me.” Wally replies, following Dick into the living room, and watching him pick out a game. “Doesn’t every controller have too much input lag for you?” Dick asks, letting Wally pull him into the space between his legs, hands resting on his shoulders as he launches some game Tim had gotten him. “Victor made some specialty ones for me after I broke too many in the Tower. I think Tim has been making updated ones for Bart.” Wally massages his shoulders, head propped up on top of Dick’s so he can watch him play.

“Why don’t you run and grab them?” he replies, repressing a shudder as Wally’s hands smooth down his back, skillfully applied pressure releasing the long held tension in his back. Long fingers leave sparks of pleasant warmth in wake, overtaking the pervasive dull soreness. Dick is internally proud of his self control until those hands skate down his sides, grip resting firm on his hips so Wally can whisper in his ear; “You’re doing so well Dickie” Wally’s voice is low, his breath ghosting the shell of Dick’s ear. A bolt of arousal shoots down his spine and he is barely able to suppress the accompanying whimper. He really hopes Wally doesn’t look down, because then he’ll definitely never want to touch Dick again for any reason. “I’m not really doing anything” He replies, glad for how normal he sounds. He wants to bang his head into a wall until he has something resembling sense when Wally squeezes the meat of his thighs, because now even sitting still is a struggle. “Sure you are. You’re letting me help you. You’re trusting me” Wally is still extremely close, tone almost heady. His grip loosens so his hands can drift up Dick’s legs, thumbs resting on his more sensitive inner thigh. Wally keeps talking even though Dick’s breath is stuttering and he’s squeezed his eyes shut, holding perfectly still. “This okay? If it’s not that’s alright. I won’t be upset, all you gotta do is say. And we can go back to just hanging out” Wally sounds perfectly calm, and Dick hates him a bit for it, because Wally is brushing his fingers over the tent of his jeans and Dick’s head falls back against his shoulder as he gasps. “Yes. It’s okay, Jesus Christ Walls” His voice is high and ready as Wally dips one hand beneath his shirt, the other one palming him with just enough force to make Dick shake, legs jerking in response to the overwhelming pleasure that dances across all his nerves. Wally nips his ear, then starts mouthing at his neck. “You’re so gorgeous like this. In my hands, letting me do what I want. Letting me treat you like the precious thing you are.” His voice is gravely, and he tugs Dick flush against his chest, grinding forward into him. Dick chokes on nothing as he feels the burning warmth of Wally’s own arousal against him. The words are as effective as any touch, making Dick reach back and grab Wally’s hair, pulling until his face is the right angle to kiss. The kiss is messy and a touch desperate, vaguely following the rhythm of his hips as they roll. Wally flicks the button of his jeans open, biting down on his bottom lip, pulling away. Dick tries to follow eagerly, but Wally yanks him back by his hair, watching with dark satisfaction as it makes him keen. “Still okay?” He sounds breathless, and Dick nods eagerly. “Mind taking this to your room?” His thumb is stroking tender circles into his cheek, like he’s something delicate. Dick turns his hand to bite down on the tip of it, just to watch those green eyes widen, and hear his breath hitch. Dick looks up at him through his eyelashes, licking the pad of his finger.

“Please, Wally?” He lets the desperate little whine building in his throat twist the edge of his words, and hides a smile behind a pout when he sees Wally’s blush spread to the tips of his ears.

Next thing he knows he’s flat on his back, spread across his bright blue comforter, Wally kneeling between his legs. Wally grins down at him, shirt and pants long gone.

  “Can I strip you sweetheart?” He asks, rubbing the outside of Dick’s thighs. Dick cant help but think he looks gorgeous, pink down to his chest, freckles dappling his skin, and the sun catching his green eyes in such a way that Dick can see the flecks of yellow and brown. He nods, cataloging the way Wally looks, just in case he doesn’t get to see it again. The adoration in his eyes, the hard line of his dick straining against his black briefs, and those strong runner’s thighs spreading his own apart. Dick nods again, expecting to have it happen before he can even register it, but Wally takes his time, pulling Dick’s shirt off and kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Dick lets out a slow breath, tension releasing and back arching languidly into his touch. Wally stops at his shoulders, moving up to kiss his lips, slow and sweet.

“I want you to say it. Tell me what you want Rob.” There’s certainly a sharp edge to his voice, which makes all the blood vacate Dick’s brain. “I…” Dick takes a deep breath, trying to clear the haze that had settled over his brain. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to tell me what to do. I’m so tired of thinking, and making choices, I just wanna…” “Let go?” Wally finishes as he finally pulls Dick’s shirt over his head, then helps him shimmy out of his underwear and sweats. Dick watches Wally, loving the way his eyes flick across his body, like he can’t pick a place to look.

“Settle in Rob” Wally picks up his leg, pulling it over his shoulder and kissing down the length of it. “When I’m done you won’t be thinking of anything other than how amazing you feel. Wally bites his inner thigh, just below the apex of his hip. Kissing everything but the place Dick wants his mouth the most. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to complain- or beg, but no one can prove that- Wally licks across the head of his cock, and his tongue vibrates. Dick goes taught, back arching as he swears. “F-fuck!” he yelps “You can do that?”

“Perks of being a Speedster” Wally quips, kissing along the length of him, fingers encircling the base and vibrating. Wally has to hold his hips down as he takes him into his mouth, the sensation is so intense that before he knows it Dick is whiting out, coming down Wally’s throat with a reedy moan. Wally pulls off, kissing Dick and licking into his mouth, the taste of himself on Wally’s tongue has him groaning, wrapping his arms around Wally’s shoulders. His head feels fuzzy and the haze of pleasure leaves him forgetting why speaking without a filter as a terrible idea- “I love you so much Wally” He smiles blissfully. Wally, to his credit, doesn’t even pause.

“I love you too Rob, so very much. You’re so good and sweet for me. You’re doing so well.” Wally praising him has Dick squirming in his happy haze. “Fuck me?” He requests, hooking his free leg up high on Wally’s back to leverage himself such that he can grind up against him.

“Christ Rob” Wally groans, hips stuttering. “You’re so needy, gotta let me take care of you. I’m gonna be so good to you babe” He’s gone for just a moment, back before Dick’s leg can even lower, lube in hand. “Did you run while turned on?” Dick grins, distinctly amused, coherent thought returning slowly. Wally raises a brow. “What happens at that pace is between me and the speed force” He responds, pouring lube in his hand and stroking along Dick’s semi, tracing down along his perineum and circling Dick’s hole. Dick flinches at the slight vibration he feels before the finger is before pressing in. “You’re p-pretty good at that” He looks up at Wally, eyes almost black from pupils blown wide with want. It settles an ache he hadn’t realized had been weighing him down. Seeing Wally above him, blushing down to his chest, grinning like he can’t believe his luck, finally allows Dick to let go of the painful yearning he’s pushed to the backburner for over a decade.

“Yeah?” Wally grins, confident is a good look on him, “Just wait till I learn all your buttons” He presses another finger in, hooking them and managing to press right against Dick’s sweetspot. The hot molten feeling from before washes over his body again, leaving him shaking and floaty, nails digging into the lines of Wally’s back. He pulls himself up enough to moan right in Wally’s ear as he rolls his hips against him. “Don’t forget- you’re not the only one learning” He nips down the column of Wally’s neck, fascinated by the way that the bruises disappear from his pale skin. Wally’s rhythm breaks for a moment, and he can’t help his smug satisfaction and the way Wally groans like his orgasm was ripped from his chest. “You better be ready boy wonder, cause that was mean” Wally pulls his fingers away, but doesn’t actually do anything until Dick gives a beyond exaggerated “please”, which makes them both laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” Wally looks bright and unburdened by all the years that have passed between them as he presses into Dick. Dick can’t help but clench down at the feeling, squirming even after Wally presses to the hilt, hips twitching. Dick feels giddy, and full, and more relaxed than he can even remember ever being. He pulls Wally into another sloppy kiss, burying his hands in soft hair. “I love you Wally” He kisses the freckles on his face. “You’re perfect” Wally starts fucking into him at an almost blinding place, body humming like he can’t quite help it. He kisses all across Dick, like he can’t pick any given part of him. “Says the most perfect man I’ve ever seen. You’re so gorgeous, I’ve been wondering so long if you’d let me do this. Trust me like this.” Wally is talking almost too fast to hear, only years of practice enabling Dick to keep up. “I love everything about you, who you are, your smile, all the stupid shit that drives me insane. You’re so cute too, when you get all flustered. But I never could have imagined how you’d look like this. So pretty and sweet and relaxed-” Wally continues to praise him until they’re both babbling, and Dick isn’t really sure where the before and after points of their orgasms were. Only that eventually they slowed down, and Wally cleaned him up, fed him, and pulled him into his arms. And everything felt okay, at least right there, in that moment. Nothing was wrong. “I meant it Rob. I love you. I wanna be with you, if you let me.” Wally kisses his hair, rubbing his back. “It’s always been you, for me. Safety, home. Whatever you want to call it.” Dick looks at him, bright blue eyes as piercing as they always have been, complemented by the blush high on his cheeks. “I want you in every way I can have you.” “You deserve more than that, you know? Then taking what you can get” Wally lightly brushes the hair out of his eyes. “Hm, maybe you can prove that to me?” Dick smiles, unburdened.

[court-jobi]

Tuning Out, Tuning In

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters or this art))

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!pro hero, some afab pronouns used)

Words: 5.1K

Rating: T+ (language, bc obviously)

Warnings: Pro-Hero Bakugo/Pro-Hero Reader, cursing as a love language, insecurities, arguing, use of hearing aids (not an expert!), light hurt/comfort, she falls first-he falls harder

Summary:

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. He's still not hearing you- because he can't.  You check on your Katsuki after an unannounced leave of absence, only to discover the true reason why is the source of a mighty insecurity of his that he's expertly kept you out of the loop of till now. He's defensive and mean- uncharacteristically so, towards you when you find out. It's heart-wrenching when he realizes he's snapped at you, and gutting when you love him through it.

A/N: *Can be read as a follow-up in the 'Backpack Privileges' universe, but not necessarily a series. Just how I envision these babies evolving~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

News from the girls at the scheduling counter is  that Dynamight was actually putting in PTO for the first time this calendar year.

Sure he’s worked hard, but when doesn’t he? It wasn't like he expended so much energy from his last rescue call that he was too tired or anything when you’d last seen him… so the time off request surprised you. Katsuki Bakugou never took time off, even when he’s congested to the point of sounding like a wounded seagull and hacking up a lung.

You called to check on him the first day he was out, but it went unanswered; he texted back instead that he was in the middle of eating and asked what you needed. You told him to rest up, and he proceeded to spam you with the same angry animal memes as always. 

At the office, things were at a surprising lull by the end of the week, with Kirishima on your right on the sofa scrolling through some mods Hatsume had for him to review. Meanwhile, you took the rather unprofessional route and scrolled on your phone. Your retort to Kiri’s tutting over the bad habit was that you knew the higher ups were off with Jeanist at some press junket, and you could risk it. Called you a naughty thing, how Bakugou was rubbing off on you. You’re sure even at your hangriest you’re not that prickly. 

An instinct, you try calling Bakugou again, this time on speakerphone. It’s been a whole workweek, after all. It rings twice, then straight to voicemail. You end the call before recording anything, and fuss at the phone in your hand. 

“Ok, Kiri? This is weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

“He’s never answering,” you lock the phone habitually, “-and I mean never. No ‘hi’, no ‘whaddya want’; did he lose his voice or something?”

Kirishima finally breaks focus to look at you, questioning, “Bakubro?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t– not that I’m trying every day or anything, but it’s been almost a week of nothing and-” 

-your phone dings: one new preview of a message from ‘Backpack’ lights your lockscreen, and your frustration ramps up to 60.

“-Then he freakin’ texts– like two seconds later!! What the actual hell is going on with him?!”

Kirishima just snorts.

“Maybe he’s taking a dump~”

“He would not text me on the toilet.”

“All men do it.”

“KIRI.” you swat his foot off the couch that’s laid out towards you, crossing yours while he cackles behind his ipad’s screen.

“Oh cmon, he’s fine! He’s just taking a breather~” Kirishima presses you with an assuring look you’re inclined to buy, because his delivery is just that sweet, “Doesn’t really take time off much anymore, so if he did, he probably needs it. Been doing a lot of those muscle contracts, which pays well! But it’s no joke how much it takes out of you– Kamui wants him, Rocklock wants him-”

You do worry about the workload Bakugou is  under given all the names Kirishima rattles off, but your boy’s assured you it’s all part of his drive. That, and he says Bakugou’s saving up for something important for work, but doesn’t disclose more than that.

You don’t press when Bakugou puts up a wall– knowing full well he tells you things when he’s ready.  Till now, he’s not given an indication that he doesn't distrust you with anything- not even his life. You have each other’s backs, and that’s an honor that you value and reciprocate. Perhaps it’s by that faith in one another that you should grant him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe one of these days under another starry sky from the back of your bike, he may share his whats and hows and whys to that sweet spot behind your ear, disguising his secrets with yet another kiss he saves for when you’re alone.

But this silence is really throwing you a curveball. Katsuki’s voice is just one of the many things you’ve come to adore about him. When you confessed that little thought to him, he turned a soft answer -a promise- that he’d answer when you called, day or night. It’s a gruff, punchy sound when you hear it over coms, or even through your shared helmets; but it’s also rumbling, constant, soothing when you hear it fitted against your ear. 

You never thought you’d even miss Dynamight’s passive aggressive screaming so much– until you don’t have any echo of him in your head at all.

“-or yknow if it’s not his schedule, it’s his body that’s about to quit on him. He’s probably giving his ears a break, if I had to guess!”

“...His ears.”

Kirishima looks up at you again, like his point was obvious, “Yeah. He can’t wear ‘em all the time– they’ve gotta charge, and if he’s sweat them out of their normal place, they pinch-”

Realization forces you to sit up straight, “Katsuki wears hearing aids?”

“Well he has to, with his quirk!” Kirishima tickled himself explaining so, “Kats probably blew out his inner ear in middle school, and it’s only gotten worse the harder he’s trained. He got fitted for new ones sometime last winter which he says are more comfortable than the last ones, but I dunno-” Kirishima cracked his neck in a roll, “I think he keeps' em in too long; and they drive him batty after a while.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. 

Down at your phone, you read the text message fully:

Backpack: Knee deep in dishes. What’s up pretty girl.

You decide to answer,

//Waiting on a call for a pickup, just keeping the couch warm~  Up for a call real quick?

‘Backpack’ takes a minute this time. You reason maybe he’s using speech to text given the perfect grammar.

Backpack: Can’t right now.

// Podcast instead? ((eyes emoji))

Backpack: Pass.

//Kiri misses you… ((sad eyes))

Backpack: No he fucking doesn’t. 

Backpack: Throw him a bone or try some fetch, he’ll be fine.

You don’t even laugh at the image with how much he’s deflecting talking to you. Laying back, your concern must be palpable because Kiri nudges you with his foot, and you stare at its buckles; anything from looking at his face.

“He never turns down food.”

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean, he’ll need to eat~” Kirishima’s never ending support coats his words. “-and I’d be shocked if he’d  turn his Darling DoorDasher down.”

You snorted, “Hush, you.”

Kirishima knew full well about you two- he’s not blind. He knows about dates one, two, well- every date, whether from Bakubro's lips or your own. But while it doesn’t feel new and raw… it feels tender and personal, what you share with your hero off the field– and you don’t want the bubble to burst between you and Katsuki. Not just yet.

-which is why, despite your firm concern deep in your gut reminding you of your plans throughout your shift,  you are nervous for your first time going to his apartment, unannounced. 

You knock four times, then back away to the near side of the door so it doesn’t hit you when it opens. A lull of ‘nothing’ hung in the air.. 

You reconsidered,  suspicion making you  bite your cheek: what if he can’t hear you?

You knock four more times, a bit louder. You’re cringing as you come back to your lean. Shuffling, you do indeed look like a food delivery service- an insistent-looking one, to the couple passing by on the ground floor who look up at you and likely wonder why you don’t just call this a ‘contactless delivery’ and jog on.. 

“Cmon, Kats…” you bemoan before steeling your nerves. You try just three more times, channeling your inner ‘Dynamight’ yourself and banging at a level that would take it off its hinges before cringing away to your waiting spot. 

Bakugou’s neighbor pops his head out of the door opposite you this time– nailing you with a reproachful look. Apologies mouthed, you smile demurely as the sound of a very aware Bakugou approaches now.

“I’M COMING, DAMMIT!”

The neighbor -perhaps wisely- shuts his door as he hears the door about to be unlocked. The way his eyebrows fly up, you infer that he does little to ever cross his hotheaded neighbor.

“ALRIGHT ALREADY- WHAT?!”

He's gorgeous, still. Pissy and caught off his guard, and donned headphones around his neck. But Bakugou double-takes to you with a frozen mouth, watching you push off the siding seemingly unaffected by his outburst and smiling casually.

“Hiya~”

His jaw flexes, but he forces his snarl away. Clearly conflicted at your presence, he pinched his brow.

"Said you were workin’ today. What’re you doing."

"I was in the neighborhood. Brought you a bowl~" you bribed the man's heart with the top way you knew how: a white and red ‘thank you’-covered baggie with the jackpot inside..

He likes kamameshi so he doesn’t hafta chew a ton. If his ear n’ jaw are tired, the softer the better. You can't go wrong with a nice bowl o’comfort…  Not like it’d last long with that guy’s appetite on a good day, anyways! Hah!

Hardly one to refuse you (just as Kirishima lovingly predicted), Bakugou stepped aside to let you in, granting you a gentle stroke on your back as you passed him..

Inside, you trade giving him the bag with his offering of your choice in houseshoes. On the far side of the room, the TV is on, including a scroll of subtitles. You look about and the place is spotless- he wasn’t lying about the rage cleaning.

"In the neighborhood, huh?" Bakugou called to you, dishing out the box of takeout while watching you get settled in.

You already said so, but made sure to face him as you speak- eyes all on you. You think that making a sweet delivery is reason enough for your presence here,

"Yeah~ the office drew a short straw on the menu this week, so I’ve been eating out more~ still don’t know how you can mess up potatoes, but sure enough, Feefee’s found a way~" you smile, coming up to his side with a little lilt in your step.

-but Bakugou just drones back,

"Overdue on our lunches, aren’t we sweets. We'll go do something this weekend."

Oh boy. You’re really bad off. A diss at the agency kitchen staff would never go unnoticed by the resident lunch snob, you think to yourself. You may not have lightning fast quips like Kaminari, but c'mon, that was a little funny…

Any other time that Bakugou would willingly suggest a date would thrill you. Maybe he’s even aware that he’s been avoiding you, and is trying to make up for it by suggesting a couple places offhand. But knowing the real reason behind the aversion, it doesn’t warm you the way it always does. 

His answer was typical and wasn't really related to what you asked at all, so you watch him take some bites and try again.

You trailed over to his dining kitchenette, taking a seat before him, tone lovely and appropriate for the distance between you. 

“You should have seen Kiri’s attempt to make my coffee order. Almost put a pump of salmon oil in instead of simple syrup! But hey, that just means job security for you, yeah? You’re so much better at it.”

You make eyes at the tv behind you as you speak- a test. 

He catches your intentional look, but he twists in his seat to glance. Then, focuses back on you and not making a mess of his dish, “Yeah, you can change it if you want.”

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. Still not hearing. 

You try once more, sass tinting your voice as if you were teasing him privately.

"We adopted a purple hippo as an office pet~"

"Mhm," Bakugou picked up on the attitude, pausing and coming to your side with a bit of a swagger he hopes looks natural, "Sure been a crazy week. Missed a lot. We’ll get back to normal soon, yeah? Cmon, let's go watch somethin’."

Your hands fall to your thighs in a resigned slap. Sighing, you look to him desperately, urging him with more enunciation. 

"This is bad, Katsuki."

"What's so bad." Bakugou reads your lips and deflects.

You tap your ear with a sympathetic look.

– his demeanor changes. Horribly.

Bakugou steps away in almost disbelief, edgy and firm: a rolling boil starts to simmer behind his eyes. Turning aside, he huffs. Guilty. 

He turns tail to the kitchen, cursing under his breath to ‘give him a second.’ Bakugou pushes his stacks of cleaned dishes aside, making a clash of noise even you flinch at. It’s evident the sound doesn’t phase him. 

"No, you don't have to put them-"

"I can't fucking HEAR YOU, woman; give me a DAMN SECOND!!"

Coming around the island after him, you see he’s trying to get at the charging dock on the backside of his butcher block.

Watching him fiddle with just his right ear, he turns back and faces you prickly as ever, with arms crossed and barely attempting to rein in his anger.

You are sure now you've struck a nerve if he's acting like this around you. You tread carefully,

"I'm not here to just yap your head off, or commandeer your days off. I… was just concerned."

"About what? I'm fine."

"It's been five days,” you stress gently, “you didn't think I would think it’s weird if you didn’t answer once?"

"I answered you back every time," Bakugou raised his voice a tick, "Every text– never left you on read, cuz I know that feels shitty!"

"I know you did," you give him credit, "But it's– different when we talk, and you know that difference. It's just that you always call back. It just hasn’t felt normal -for you- is all. And I didn’t know there was going to be a reason like this that’s why."

"Well it's not like I could hear the phone ring anyway, so fuck me for that. How the hell’d you find out anyway."

"...I didn't know until Kirishima said something. I was telling him I-"

"Of course it fucking was,” Bakugou huffed again, “Well, it's none of his business, it’s not his problem, and he should kept his DAMN mouth shut."

To trash Kirishima like this -hotheaded and bitter- definitely feels more like an attack than he'd ever mean on a good day. Kiri is his best friend, and clearly close enough to have been there at the first fitting and have a picture perfect memory of it because it mattered so much to his buddy to be there for him. To not let it define him.

You can't pretend to know how sensitive of a subject this is, based on how confident Bakugou is with everything in life: even the litany of scars he wears outlining his hero work aren't off limits to discussion. But his answers come armed with cached ammo and heat.

You certainly don't think yourself entitled to everything about him, but you see now that he clearly hadn’t planned to tell you about his wearing hearing aids, or at least hadn’t intended for you find out this way… so someone had to take the brunt of his ire. You think to be grateful he doesn’t appear ready to snap at you, but you feel so much on the outside, it hurts to watch him sizzle. 

You try to take the pressure off the leak of the news, "Where's this coming from, hon?"

Bakugou grunts, looking back to you with a raised brow. 

You gestured between you just to talk with your hands a little, "Where  is  this  coming-"

"HELL IF I KNOW!” Bakugou shouts back, “It just IS. I just wanted- it-- Look, just fuckin’ drop it, ok? I will. be back. tomorrow. And everything’ll be like it was before you knew a damn thing, ALRIGHT??"

He's defensive and mean now; the pitch he never aimed at you before now entered the ring.

This was a line you were damned sure not to let any man cross.

"Ok, we're gonna try that again,” you spoke plain as day.

"Try WHAT again??"

"Discussing, not fighting." You stood firm at his counter. You will not be taking up a screaming match under any circumstances, and have to make that clear. "Coming up with an answer -together- because that's what we do when our backs are up against the wall... Not bite the hand that's trying to help. ‘Hit the problem, not the player’."

The words resonate with Bakugou, having been the one who shot that reminder to you not a week ago from his own mouth, and everything in that face full of fire wants to rear back– 

"-and before you say ANYTHING else... You will. not. talk to me like that."

You hear the hero’s palms sizzle, and see by the look of hatred he glares at them with that he clearly hates the feel. 

Bakugou lets out a growl then goes silent, obeying. He takes a little pace around, finally settling at the tall, bar-height stool, rubs his palms compulsively at his thighs as a reset, and pulls at his head until it lays dejected in those explosive hands propped up on his knees.

Your invitation to stand by him opens when he lifts his head and scowls behind tented fingers. Kindly, you make sure to stand closer to his right to give him the best chance of catching your words.

"Y'know I'm the last one who's ever gonna give you a hard time for this, don’t you?"

Bakugou doesn't answer, but you know he's listening.

"It's hard for me to take time off work too, I don't do it as much as I should. I know it's hard to leave work at work, and you did that on your own, in order to take care of yourself. You know your limits and that’s keeping you alive. That was really wise."

You see a little bob of the head by the slight jostle of his hair.

What bothers you here and now isn’t just selfish thoughts of ‘why didn’t he tell me’, but ‘why didn’t he tell anyone’? It’s clear by what you’ve learned that next to no one knows of his condition. That small aspect of this gives you a little comfort, but opens up a bigger dose of worry. Hearing impairment might be perceived by a bystander as a defect or weakness, but for the old friends and medical experts who surely surround him, you’d feel confident in Bakugou’s care to know he’d surely not think of himself that way. 

Surely not… surely not?

“But the thing is, if it's coming down to you hurting and needing help- or just, getting time away if that's what you really want, I can totally get that. But  between you and I? We've gotta figure out how you really feel about this, because it’s eating at you. Affects everything you do at some point, right? Can't have you working yourself to the bone here, overworking your senses out there, feeling like you can’t speak for days on end, setting things off, either. Even accidentally."

You swipe along his shoulder and arm sweetly, just for a little connection.

“I… I really do care about you, Katsuki. I don't want you to feel you have to manage it all on your own.  I want to be someone you can have in your back pocket for help- even with something like this.”

A ‘ride or die’ offer if there ever was one.

Bakugou looks in the direction of your hand. The smooth, unscarred hand you sport is so different from his own. Proof of the softness he lost a long time ago, his sunken eyes tell you. He blinks, and it’s a pensive, sad sight. 

 "M'sorry." 

The hoarseness in that proud voice fell hollow.

To anyone else, it may sound apathetic and half-assed, but Bakugou held so much ‘punch’ in his daily speech that you realized this apology featured the even breath of emotion. Restraint. His control. His gentleness.

“You can't help how your body works, Kats. You don't have to apologize for what's happening naturally. This is... just a side effect, unfortunately.”

“T’snot that,” he said limply.

A second attempt to finish for him, you try again studying the takeout boxes left open. “I.. get you not telling me, too. It’s not my business either.”

Bakugou shakes his head, with a dismissive jerk of the head altogether. Instead he lifts up, miserably.

"I don't talk to you that way."

Through a brief silent showdown, you accept his apology. As rough as he is even with his own mother, Bakugou has framed a different ring for you two to dance in, and harshness doesn’t belong in it.

"You don’t,” the agreement is established, “that's how I knew something's out of whack. Plus, I mean.. if you can’t pick up background noise, it must be hard trying to match volume in a space, right?"

Bakugou’s hoarseness fails him, falling to which air, "That's a shit poor excuse. You were right. I know the difference." 

Meekly reaching for hip, the man sniffles: pulling you the rest of the way between his bent legs. 

You step in and he crumbles into your core, strong hands encircling your hips. 

"I'm sorry," he swears.

"It's ok..."

Bakugou squeezes you in, "It's not. Ok. You should have slapped me for that shit.”

“I’m not doing that, either,” you get weary hearing how the guys rough each other up. You’re certainly not applying the same tactics to him of all people.

“Well, it’s inexcusable. I respect you more than to do that. Know better.”

"I forgive you, then."

"You shouldn't, so easily.”

Chin jutted on his still-bowed head, your answer comes simply but openly:

"...That's commonly called love, Katsuki. I love you. That’s what I do."

He's silent and frozen. The only sign of life is that he is -in fact- breathing still.

You said these, the magic words, in record time for anyone you've held affection for... and you didn't care. You loved Katsuki. Loved all of him. Even the prickly bits that threatened to square up at you like  a bull. 

Friendship was an surprisingly easy test for you two.

Partnership, battle-proven in the public sphere. 

But this is the final straw that you’ve been keeping safe and special. Telling Katsuki you loved him would push things to a deeper level than you felt the term ‘boyfriend’ afforded you both at thirty years old. In loving him, and no one else, you just wanted to call him ‘yours’ already and be done with searching for the One.

Since he doesn’t speak, you busy yourself elsewhere. He may not answer nearly as quickly as you given how on-the-spot he mulls in currently… but he hasn’t let go of you, which is a good sign. Good enough for you.

Your mind veers a bit in the quiet. You think to yourself about what feels nicest when you've had your helmet on too long; athletes deal with it, racers deal with it.. Anyone who wears a support item with internal padding giving cushion around the head is bound to force unnatural pressure on every angle for the sake of protection. 

On you, this tension lies just behind the ears. 

To soothe it, you’d usually draw a sun: a half circle design, zigzagging up and down with your fingertips, creating lines of relief along the tender sides of your head. It's to help the blood flow, and the scratches crackle nicely to the ear canal. Acts as white noise to the senses which is often a welcome change to the low thrum of a headache or grating road noise.

So with careful fingers, a mind set on comfort and a heartful of soft love for this man, you draw twin suns deep within Katsuki's hair.

…within seconds, he wept.

Bakugou softly cries and he holds you close. He turns in his seat, pulling you to fit even tighter between his knees with no gap of room between you.

When he can regulate his breaths down to calm blows from his lips, he shares more what's on his mind, down the space between you.

"...that feels really good."

"I hoped so~. So your head bothers you too, after a while. Having them in all the time?"

He turns his head finally to rest on one side, the functionally deaf side leaning into your chest... listening out for a heartbeat it seems.

“N’it’s all inside, so it’s hard to touch it unless I pump myself full of horsepills… makes m’stomach hurt."

From head to toe, he’s being honest about what this means for him. "The thing that’s meant to help, hurts? I’m sorry, hon."

He's still swallowing back his emotions, so you don't press for what he wants to say when it's clear he's focused on getting good rhythm back.

"My arm gets numb sometimes, too."

You're surprised at this, as more pieces fit together you didn’t know were necessarily missing, "-Yeah?"

"It's somethin' in the tendons. Can fight fine, but small moves are weird. I can't pick up a fucking piece of paper right. N'holding my phone hurts some days."

With a kiss to his hair, you see the teed-up ‘in’ to make him laugh,

"Well, who're you gonna be texting anyway, now that I won't be blowing up your phone?"

He tuffs. Joking aside, you hugged you close. “Gotta to back to that dumbass doctor, don't I."

"They can check your nerve endings with a scan. See if there's a reason for it."

Bakugou accepts this and continues his baring of his heart. He mentions old pains, some new ones, even some random details about which oscillating fans he likes on or off because of how warm he runs. Some of it relates to his work, some not, but you take it all in. Each little snippet he offers up reminds you of penguin pebbling. 

Satisfaction rang through you with the news that caused the biggest physical response in him: he confessed after all that he hadn’t wanted to ignore you at all, and it shows.

His hands massage at you– never getting enough.

“V’missed your voice too,” Bakugou’s voice finally seeps back in- that low, growly rumble of the chest you wanted to play on loop, “But I know I needed that break. I wanted 'em out, just for a little while. Even if I didn’t want to miss the good that comes from keepin’ em in.”

“That’s fine to want. Anytime you need.”

Bakugou turns exploratory with his hand. With the one not locked around your waist keeping you to him, he gives long scritches across your back, up front to hold your side- rooting him. 

“N’for the record, not everyone knows. It’s probably in a record somewhere, so it’s not really been taboo or anything. No one’s ever banned me from fighting; not yet at least. It’s not a secret. But… s’been so long, I’ve… never had to explain them to anyone. Sure as shit don't tell the public.”

Tender fingers seek out the soft inner side of your wrist, just a small touch.

“But you…I didn’t know how to open that up. Seems like a random ass thing to drop on you.”

You understand, and think it sweet that he at least had contemplated telling you at some point– but now, you could only look to his future and knew this would only help you moving forward.

"Nothing’s random if it’s important to you. So head scratches are a yes. Fast food is a yes, keeps you out of the stores. Anything else I should keep in mind to help?"

Bakugou thinks, but just holds onto you with a little nuzzle, "Not now. Yer doin’ it."

Happy and soft, you smile, "Okey~"

After a minute, he's matched your breathing, and you only move when he lifts his head to chin up at you from his spot. You smile expectantly seeing him less harsh around the edges and looking at you on the softer side of pitiful. Like he's looking to you for the solution-- neck bared and showing a rare vulnerability.

"You're my hero, Kats," you dote on him. Hands through his hair, scritching at the base, "y'know that right?"

"Damn right."

"And you aren't anywhere near throwing in the towel over this."

His smirk returned, "Damn right."

Bakugou’s neck received more soothing treatment again– making his eyes flutter, 

"Because my Lord Explosion has way too many baddies left to murder before he allows anyone get to his getaway driver, right?"

Finally showing signs of his spark back, Bakugou growls his pleasure. 

"Y'talking about murder does things to a man, baby."

"Thought it might... I mean every word though. You take such good care of me, Kats. Let me do the same for you sometimes, ok?"

"... Yeah alright," he finally caves easily with tepid palms smoothing over the back of your thighs. Still keeping you close, forehead falling to rest against you, you feel finally content that your presence has helped him. 

All your one-sided concerns now settled, you feel glad that your update to Kirishima later will share that Bakugou’s okay– and will likely add in a fair heads-up that he might still be pissy with him come Monday.

After some cursory scratches across his shoulders, you remember to hold out a hand by his eye level. Bakugou hums when he notices it, and raises his hand to hold yours-- only for you to dodge it, and keep it open.

Let me have it, silly.

After checking ‘what on earth you were getting at’, he tilts to see your fingers open again. The blond head of hair at your chest sighs, decides, then takes the lone hearing aid out and returns it into your open palm. With careful depositing, you set it on the counter behind you with the note-to-self to put it back with its mate– and return your hands to yours.

Bakugou centered himself by breathing you in. Once he had you snug in his arms again, he pressed a firm kiss through your shirt, hoping you felt everything he couldn’t say behind a tight throat. 

You thought it silly, but with him resting fairly tame right on your chest, you thought you'd try a little enrichment for him:

That stupid song from the pop-up takeaway truck was still stuck in your head, so you started humming it to him. 

With how high you stood above him doling out scritches to his temple, you missed how his eyes opened for a flash in recognition of today’s current brainrot love ballad; but you didn't miss how he pressed in closer to you and really listened.

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 4

So fun fact, I got Lyney on 12 pity, with no guaranteed after posting that previous section, so uh. He doesn’t need to be jealous of his siblings anymore I guess.

Warning for Spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

Cold

It was very cold,

Freezing actually, numbingly cold and frigid. The icy hands of hypothermia creeping up your legs to encase your body into an icy coffi-

Ok, well maybe that’s a step too far.

But it’s cold.

Why is it cold?

Oh it’s snowing that’s why.

You look down at your feet.

Yep, there’s snow.

You wiggle your toes, and see the snow on top if them shift. 

You giggle to yourself at the amusing sight. You look up to see if there’s anyone else.

It’s empty, just a vast expanse of snow and wind.

Wait, no it’s not. There’s a building right over there, it’s massive, tall and imposing with gigantic walls and windows.

Oh there’s a person in one of those windows, hopefully you’re not trespassing.

You can’t really make out who it is, their black and white figure is blurred by the heavy snow and wind, but you try waving to them anyway.

If there’s so much snow and wind shouldn’t you be colder than this?

You blink,

“- gnoring me, I swear,”

You turn your head, and your friend is there.

“Hellooo, why do you keep spacing out?” she complains, taking a sip of her drink.

The two of you are at a cafe. 

She proposed that the two of you meet up now that the weather is nice and take a walk together and get some exercise. Somehow that exercise ended with the two of you sitting in a heavily air conditioned cafe.

You blink, weren’t you just cold.

Oh right, you look over to your side where the AC is blasting on full volume.

“Why don’t we move to different seats,” you offer, “The AC is giving me a headache.”

~~~

“Another successful day of adventuring completed!” Paimon cheered, spinning around as the Traveler handed in the receipts for all their completed commissions. 

The Traveler smiled at her enthusiasm as they accepted their reward from Katheryn, before heading over to where Paimon was floating.

“Hungry for dinner?” They asked, knowing the answer already.

“Of course!” Paimon exclaimed, “As if that’s even a question.” She paused, bobbing slightly as she stared the Traveler down. 

“Hmm, Paimon can’t help but feel you’re up to something, but she can’t figure out what.”

The Traveler takes their time, hemming and hawing as they stroll down the streets of Fountaine with Paimon floating closely behind, riling her up with frustration.

“Grrr, c’mon just tell Paimon, or I’m gonna burst,”

The Traveler laughed at their companion’s frustrated face, before turning to face them with a cheeky smile on their face. “Well, I’ve got a bit more energy than usual, so why don’t you choose a restaurant for us to visit,” they proposed cheekily.

Paimon’s eyes opened wide with anticipation, “really!” She exclaimed, shooting up with anticipation, “you better not be messing with Paimon,” she threatened, eyes sparking.

“Nope,” the Traveler drawled, as they made their way over to the nearby waypoint. They placed their hand on it meaningfully, and extended the other to Paimon. “Where are we going tonight?”

Paimon squealed with happiness, shooting into the Traveler’s arms. “ Komore Teahouse please,” she begged, “We haven’t had hotpot in so long,”

“As you wish,” and in a burst of energy the two disappeared from the streets of Fountaine.

The smell of sweet Sakura blossoms greeted Paimon's nose as the two appeared in Inazuma. 

Thankfully there weren’t too many gawking standerbys, many of them having gotten used to the Traveler's unique ability of traveling through waypoints.

She quickly darted out from their arms and turned to check on them. While it may look effortless, she knew that teleporting took a lot of energy out of the Traveler, and as their traveling companion it’s her responsibility to make sure that they don’t overwork themselves. 

Their breathing was fine, but their head rested on the waypoint, eyes closed. Paimon gave them a moment to collect themselves, hovering anxiously. Within a few seconds their eyelids opened, sending Paimon a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Paimon asked, feelings slightly guilty at how enthusiastic she was at coming to visit Inazuma, even though she knew how much energy it would take.

“Of course, I did offer after all,” the Traveler replied easily.

The two made their way to Komore teahouse, Paimon made sure to float a bit slower than usual, just in case the Traveler was still tired.

She’s sure they noticed, since they bumped her playfully before whispering “race you,” into her ear and darted off. 

“HEY NO FAIR,”

The two adventurers raced each other down the streets of Inazuma before skidding to a stop outside Komore Teahouse, the Traveler slapping their hand on the sign triumphantly as Paimon panted behind them.

“No, huff huff, fair,” Paimon complained, pointing their finger at the Traveler accusatorially. 

Before the Traveler could gloat about their victory, a familiar voice interrupted the duo.

“Woah woah what happened here,”

“Thoma!” Paimon exclaimed, perking back up. 

The Traveler exchanged warm greetings with the Kamisato housekeeper, as the three headed into the teahouse to catch up.

“-lace flooded and then!” Paimon paused mid story, mouth hanging open.

“And then what?” Thoma asked eagerly engrossed in the story.

The expectant silence was interrupted by a loud stomach gurgle.

There was a moment before all three of them burst into laughter.

“I think Paimon got so engrossed in story telling that we forgot to order food,” the Traveler commented between giggles.

“Hey!”

Thoma took the initiative to stand up and order food for the group. The Traveler tried to get up as well, but was ushered back into their seat. 

“C’mon, it’s already bad enough manners that I made guests wait this long without food, at least let me order it for you,” Thoma pleaded playfully, 

 “I think we’re more friends than guests at this point, ” Paimon chimed in, floating up from her seat.

“You know that’s not what I mean. C’mon, you guys save me some face here.”

After some light heckling and teasing, Thoma darted off to grab some dinner for them.

The Traveler leaned forward in their seat, face still a little pale. 

Paimon floated beside them anxiously. “Are you feeling ok?” She asked quietly, the Traveler doesn’t usually take this long to recover from a teleport trip.

The Traveler hummed lightly in agreement, now fully leaning on the table, “just a bit drowsy.”

Paimon bit her lip nervously, she floated around the Traveler’s head anxiously.

It seemed as if her hovering was annoying them since they soon tilted their head up to gaze at her with slight annoyance. “I’m okay, Paimon, honest.”

Paimon didn’t believe them.

“Are you sure, because -”

“I’m fine,” they cut her off, “I’m more worried about you.”

Paimon blinked, “Me?”

“Do you think I haven’t noticed how much hovering and how anxious you’ve been? I just wanted to- ” they cut themselves off in frustration.

Paimon sagged a little, she didn’t like making the Traveler worry about them.

The Traveler sighed, “If this is about the Kn-”

“No,” Paimon interrupted, “It’s not.”

A disbelieving face was her only answer.

She bit her lip. Maybe she wasn’t as good of an actor as she thought, or it was just the Traveler being able to see through her.

She didn't really want to explain, but considering that they were willing to push themselves in order to try to cheer her up, well. Paimon felt guilty for keeping it from them.

“It’s just not fair!” She burst out, a scowl painting itself on her normally cheerful face. 

“Her being blessed you mean?” The Traveler confirmed, sitting up properly to face Paimon.

“I don’t trust her,” Paimon admitted, her hands twisting together. “She’s so scary and we never know what she’s going to do next, or who she’s going to hurt. Not to mention she’s Fatui Harbinger!”

“So are Childe and the Wanderer,” 

“That’s different and you know it! Wanderer’s working for Nahida now and Childe might be a Harbinger but he won’t hurt us, you can beat him up any day!”

The Traveler sighed, “this is because I lost isn’t it.”

“That’s -” Paimon couldn’t refute that.

The two fell into a bit of an uneasy silence. 

“I’m not the strongest person in Teyvat Paimon. I never have been,” they explained gently.

“I know,” Paimon mumbled, “I just, don’t like the fact that she’s now going to get stronger because of us.”

“You don’t know that- ”

“Yes I do!” She shot back, “So many people we meet just get inexplicably stronger and they all think it’s thanks to us but we haven’t done anything and it’s been fine so far because they’ve all been our friends and have been really nice to us but-”

She gets cut off when the Traveler pulls her into a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” they apologized, “I didn’t know you’ve been struggling with this.”

Paimon relaxed in their hold, “It never really bothered me until now,”

“Me neither,” they admitted, leaning into their hug more.

“Food her-” Thoma paused in the doorway at the sight of the two hugging. “Uh, did I barge in at a bad moment, because I can- ”

“It’s fine,” Paimon exclaimed, flying out of the hug. “We were just uh-”

She looked over to the Traveler for an excuse, but they just shook their head and shrugged.

“Practicing what we’d do if there was an earthquake,” she finished lamely.

Thoma blinked at that admittedly pretty bad excuse, but thankfully knew not to push.

“Alrighty then, well who’s ready for- ”

“HOTPOT,” Paimon’s eyes widened to the size of Dinner plates as the smell of the tray in Thoma’s hands finally reached her nose.

The rest of the meal proceeded merrily as Paimon got to fill her stomach, Thoma got caught up with all their recent adventures, and the Traveler got to bask in good company.

They were pretty quiet, as is the norm, since they prefer to let Paimons speak for them.

Until, well.

“Thoma, what did it feel like when you got blessed.”

The other two fall into silence at the Traveler’s question. Thoma swiveled his head to see the Traveler staring at him with an uncharacteristically serious look. 

Their golden eyes bored into his face, it was easy to forget when they were chatting over a meal or talking walks together, but the Traveler was famous for more than just their adventures. 

Despite their young appearance, they’d always held themselves with an innate grace and authority Thoma had rarely ever seen. A kind of aura that made you wonder whether they were secretly an ancient powerful Yokai in disguise. 

“Uh, well,” Thoma stammered.Even though he could confidently say they were friends, and that they would never lay a hand on him, the fact that the Traveler was so much more powerful than him was hard to ignore at this very moment. “Haven’t you gone through it yourself?”

The Traveler shakes their head, “I don’t remember being blessed,” they responded shortly.

“Well,” Thoma scratched his head, mulling over his words, “I can’t really compare it to getting a vision-” he trailed off, deep in thought.

He looked around before his gaze settled on their empty hotpot bowl. 

“I think I'd compare it to drinking a warm bowl of soup on a freezing cold day.” 

The Traveler quirks a brow, surprised.

“I thought it’d be more dramatic than that,” Paimon added, looking slightly disheartened as well.

“Sorry,” Thoma scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. “That’s just the best way I could think of to describe it.” 

He paused, before angling himself towards the pair to better explain his train of thought, “You know there are some days where it all feels a little overwhelming and exhausting,”

The two nodded in response.

“Think of it like that, its been a super long day, the weather’s a mess, you’re cold and tired and you just want to crawl to bed.” he gestured, trying to convey what a busy day would look like. 

“Then you go inside, and there’s this warm bowl of soup waiting just for you, it’s the perfect temperature so you don’t don’t need to worry about burning you mouth and it just warms you from the inside out and give you more energy to keep going.”

By the end of his story the two were nodding in unison. 

“Does that make sense to you,” he finishes weakly.

“Better,” the Traveler commented, looking over at Paimon who was nodding enthusiastically. 

“Sorry, it’s just that no one’s ever really asked me about that before.” He laughs sheepishly. Internally grateful that the Traveler’s gaze had directed itself elsewhere.

“Really?” Paimon exclaimed, “I’d have thought um-” she trailed off awkwardly.

Thoma knew where they were going, “Lord and Lady Kamisato never mentioned such things to me, they know about my blessing of course, but they never tried to pry into the specifics.”

“Ahh, gotcha,” 

The table lapses into an awkward silence.

“Is there a particular reason why?” Thoma asks eventually.

The two look at each other for a bit before turning back to him.

“Just a bit of investigating,” the Traveler responds vaguely. “It just seems weird to us that this has been happening for years now and now one is really sure why.”

“Well, most of us assumed that you were the one doing the blessing,” he responded, stacking some of the empty plates together. 

“WHAT!” Paimon exclaimed, flying backwards in shock.

“You didn’t know?” Thoma looked surprised.

The Traveler shook their head alongside Paimon’s vehement denial.

“Oh, well that’s a bit awkward,” he laughs, “But don’t worry, we soon realized that you had no control over it,”

“Good,” Paimon nodded, “The last thing we need is people thinking we’re intentionally withholding a blessing from them, or worse people trying to get close to us for the blessing.” She shuddered.

The Traveler nodded in agreement, yawning slightly.

Thoma, perceptive as always, offered to get them a room at the Kamisato estate, only to be met with polite refusal.

“Thanks for the offer Thoma, but we’re probably gonna head out first thing tomorrow morning,” Paimon said, “Plus it’s not like we’re camping outside with our teapot and all,”

“That’s true,” Thoma noted, “then pass on my regards to you Teapot butler for me.”

“Will do, and pass on ours to Ayaka and Ayato.” The Traveler responded kindly.

~~~ 

Later that night, Paimon and the Traveler were getting ready to sleep.

“Ooof, Paimon is stuffed,” she stretched, floating down towards the bed.

“Satisfying meal?” the Traveler commented wryly, tucking their legs under their chin from where they were seated on their bed.

“Mmhmm,” Paimon agreed, curling up under the blankets. 

“Thank you,” she said, after a short pause.

She didn’t need to elaborate, the two had traveled together for far too long for that. Despite how it may look to outsiders, and how the Traveler might joke about her being emergency food, she knew how much the Traveler treasured their relationship and vice versa.

She remembered the darker days at the beginning of their partnership, when the Traveler would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for their sibling, or days when they could barely talk, overstimulated by the world around them. Whilst Paimon was no expert doctor, she knew how to bring the traveler out of their shell and what they were comfortable with.

She knew that the Traveler still had a difficult time meeting new people, and that even though that had a near total mastery of Teyvat’s language, its not one that they enjoyed using.

There were still bad days of course, and bad nights, but Paimon knew how to deal with them better now.

A soft snore interrupted her train of thought.

She looked over to see the Traveler comfortably asleep.

Yeah, things are good the way they are.

She curled up in her own blankets and let darkness overtake her.

~~~

Poke,

Poke, Poke

A soft giggle.

Paimon scrunched her nose and turned to her other side to avoid the poking, to no avail.

The soft pokes to her squishy cheeks continued.

Paimon became fed up before long and shot out of bed, ready to yell at the Traveler for waking her up like that, only to be faced with, not the Traveler.

A stranger stood in front of her with a confused look on their face.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” they muttered in confusion.

Paimon stared at them for a brief second before bursting into a scream.

~~~

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~~~

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