#to talk about this stuff but just blindly reading this? even i know how disgusting this is

[mc-tummy-blur]

This is insane

This is actually fucking insane. I want this to be fake so bad because I cant comprehend a living and breathing person saying this

I'm not even kidding when I say this is pure and genuinely evil. Those writers, the backbone of the entertainment industry? They see them as disposable. They have to know it's not just rent money for apartments or housing the writers are losing, right?

Utilities, clothing, food, water. Any sort of fucking medical injury that their insurance can't cover if they have any. They won't be able to pay because these executives can't give them the proper percentage they deserve

They have to know this is essentially killing them, because based off of this quote, they know that they are losing money for their housing, and they are completely fine with it coming to that, because they want to break those writers to come crawling back to them, allowing those studios to have the upper hand in the deal

Look I'm not any type of writer, I haven't kept up fully with the strike, just that it's been going strong. But I think even if you showed the most clueless person that isn't online most of the time and you'd showed them this qoute, they would have to agree that this. This is genuinely awful.

Link to that full article

[an-idiot-in-fandoms]

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY WE TALK ABOUT THE MEMBERS OF MCR???

A-FUCKING-TTENTION. I WOULD LIKE TO ADDRESS SOMETHING.

as my followers may know i am a giant mcr stan. i love their music. i think most of the band are good people. however, something came to my attention.

i haven't made it a secret that i am NOT a fan of Lindsey Way, Gerard's wife, who is a racist, pedophile apologist. learning about her being a giant piece of shit made me very sad to acknowledge that if Gerard is willing to not only marry her, but use the reunion tour as also an opportunity to uncancel his dear precious wife or some bullshit, then he's not obviously the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to race and racism in general. the fact that they even endorsed and was a fan of MSI, a "shock humour" band, which used slurs to get attention (which is fucking pathetic by the way), says a lot already. perhaps it speaks to the rock scene's general tolerance for racism at the time in the 2000s, but it wasn't the 1800s. Jimmy Urine was still a white man using the n-word at full volume, and profiting off of it during his concerts and releasing his music.

and maybe shut the fuck up if you're going to call me a "snowflake" about it, because chances are you're white, and you have no fucking clue how dangerous this rhetoric can be towards POC, who have to put up with the normalisation of slur use that the band encourages. i am a POC, and i find the fact that he used that language for money and fame absolutely disgusting. the whole band is disgusting. they can rot in hell.

anyway.

i came across a blog, not going to say which one, but one where it called out Lindsey Way. i was like "ok cool someone else who can use critical thinking in this fandom and doesn't just blindly support Gerard even though he's still definitely not the goddamn messiah". so i go on a scroll through their blog. they were a big fan of Frank, and i respect that, Frank deserves all of his flowers and more.

and then it got weird.

i came across posts where they speculated on the dynamic of the band. and a lot of things were spoken about, where they talked about Gerard being manipulative towards Frank, and how Frank didn't like going on the American leg of the tour during the reunion, and how, basically, they weren't friends, and how Gerard wasn't a good person.

the point is - there was A LOT of speculation. it made me upset to be reading it because i felt as though i'd been punched in the face, reading all this stuff about a guy i look up to partially. i sort of fell into a rabbit hole scrolling through their tumblr, getting more depressed, feeding into the logic that i could never truly feel happy about liking mcr again, reading about all of these theories, and---

hold the phone.

did you read that?

THEORIES.

it occurred to me that these were THEORIES. and the way they were demonising certain people, such as putting down Ray in certain posts to make way for Frank, made me realise that there's a problem with this fandom and how people like to assume what happens with the band members' personal life, and how they interact with each other. people like to speculate in this fandom. like, a lot.

i'll assume it's partially due to how most of the band don't shed a lot of light on their personal lives, only really Frank and Mikey are active on social media, usually showing appreciation for their families/or Frank's countless side-projects (which are all great btw, go listen to Parachutes again). so a lot of the fandom turn to speculation, to come up with these theories that "oh there's in-fighting", or "Gerard is secretly an evil genius who manipulates the whole band".

these are real people. Gerard isn't a saint, despite what some people may believe (cough, girlgerard, cough), but what we don't have to do is start making up bullshit about them being a certain way with no evidence. it's all speculation. and it's demeaning, not only to Frank and Gerard, who've probably had enough with the rumours about them over the years, but for Mikey and Ray as well.

these people aren't your friends. they're not some mystical beings shrouded in darkness that you have to find everything out about either. they are people in a band.

going too deep into speculation robs them of their autonomy. it makes everyone in the fandom look like creeps as well. it's horrible to see, and it takes away the real importance of critical thinking.

you can think critically about Gerard for marrying and excusing a racist woman, because there is EVIDENCE of her being racist. there is EVIDENCE of her being a pedophile apologist. that brings up questions about his own views on race, and how much he's willing to excuse, if he could love someone who willingly takes part in racism.

you can't do the same for Frank and Gerard's relationship. we know JACKSHIT about that. they have never said anything negative pertaining to each other in interviews, whatever "beef" people have made up between them is entirely manufactured by the fandom's overactive imagination. it's like a dead-dove fanfic on AO3 for fuck's sake, where Gerard is tagged as an asshole.

i'm aware it is only a small proportion of people who do this. but the extent to which they do it is honestly shocking. so i got pissed off.

we don't need to know everything about what happens with the band members. Frank has LS Dunes. Mikey has his family. who the fuck knows what Ray and Gerard are doing.

(now, no one's complaining about the lack of Ray on social media, but when people see a picture of Gerard's hand they flip out and beg for a face reveal - but no one's ready for that convo...)

point is: let them be. work with what you get. there's no need to make up things to make it all interesting, to create conflict - you've got that with the heavily problematic connection to MSI. evidence is key. you do not need to analyse these people like they're fictional characters.

because they are PEOPLE. and people are neither completely good or bad, they are usually in the grey area.

[oifaaa]

Please tell me how Roy’s characterisation was massacred for N52.

I understand how Jason and Roy’s relationship can be annoying where Roy never questions Jason and just follows him around blindly, never second guessing him. Roy is hard on himself and lacks self esteem and so thinks highly of Jason when really he should be angry, maybe even jealous of the power (all caste magic) Jason has. Then i get confused because I’d think someone going through a bout of depression and self hate and self medicating would have low self esteem and would think everyone is better than them and that they are a fuck up so isn’t that accurate portrayal of how awful Roy’s situation is?? Doesn’t that show the way Roy struggles just as he has pre N52?

Additionally Jason always compliments Roy on his greatness and abilities (Not in person which is annoying because grr he has to be manly and can’t compliment a friend) but in his little thought bubbles he’s always talking about how great Roy is and how grateful he is to have him.

Now this is where I get more confused because surely Roy respects Jason and through Jason’s monologues he clearly respects Roy though he may not say it out loud. The point is, people exaggerate so much how Roy is used as a crutch for Jason to look cool but Jason is constantly mentioning Roy and how important he is for the team. (Though I won’t deny there are times he may call him a goofball or undermine him but I mean cmon it’s literally ‘Red Hood’ and the outlaws, not ‘Titans’ where they’re equals, so it’s understandable that Jason would have swords and magic and stuff and save the day whilst Roy is not the main character). Idk I just haven’t noticed Roys character being MASSACRED when he’s with Jason.

People say Roy’s biggest trauma is having to be with Jason but I don’t know why that’s so bad like don’t just say it’s shit writing, fucking give me the evidence. (Sorry for the rant no offense to you what so ever). If the writing is so bad then blame the writer idk why Jason gets so much hate.

Anyway, please tell me how and why Rhato is the worst comics because I don’t think it’s that bad personally and I’d get shit for saying that.

Ps. This isn’t even about JayRoy or Lobdells disgusting history it’s literally just about why Rhato gets so much hate. I’m so confused so please explain /gen.

Thank you, have a nice day :)

Okay im gonna start this off by saying I think your looking at this the wrong way, your treating RHATO as just a stand alone story and if you want to know why people hate it you have to look at it in the broader context of it being a continuation of three different characters stories bc that is what it is - kory Roy and Jason are all pre established characters with rich backgrounds and personalities that have been building up for decades if you ignore these histories your gonna get push back from fans and Lobdell actually took it one step further

I'm gonna be short and sweet with this bc people more knowledgeable about roys character can put it way better then me but lets get straight to the point - the reason why people say Roy harper was massacred in RHATO is bc his whole character was changed- his back story, his relationships, his addiction, a lot of his personality and hell even his tattoos were changed and changed for the worse as a lot of it seemed to get done just to better suit Jason who was also changed a lot by lobdell but not to the extent that Roy was - a lot of it comes off like lobdell didn't even bother to read any comics with Roy in them before he decided to try and shove him into a role that wasn't suited for him which if your a long time Roy fan watching a character you adore get a complete overhaul just so he fits with the character the author uses as a self insert your gonna be a wee bit agitated

When your writing stories in the dc universe you have to be careful as a lot of these characters are main characters in their own right when they team up together sure you can focus on one more then the others but you have to be at least abit aware of each of the characters your including back stories motivations and personalities and what lobdell did was use the fact that the new 52 just happened as an excuse to create whole new characters with the same names as these much loved pre established characters and this rightfully pissed off a lot of people who loved these characters especially bc the things that happened in the n52 have had a lasting effect as these are the comics newer fans are reading and if your favourite character has been given a complete overhaul into a character you no longer recognise too bad a lot of people are gonna go forward only seeing Roy as Jason Todd's side character the guy in the baseball cap

[lady-starbind]

So the Your Boyfriend Fandom seems to be resurfacing?

...or maybe not, but I still wanna say my lil piece before going on with my day: As little to zero of you guys know, I used to be interested in Your Boyfriend. (A Christian, into a EROTIC horror dating sim?! ...Look, Fuboo was promising a SFW version of the game, I was looking forward to that)

Sometimes, a deranged, creepy yandere guy wanting you and only you can be very enticing... BUT that enticement turned into rage when a good Samaritan on this very website pointed out the true nature of Fuboo and her hubby.

But just being told “X person is a groomer and her husband is a rapist” is not enough to get me to fully believe you... but it wasn’t just HEARSAY either, there were like what... a couple of docs? With some very compelling evidence. Reading those docs was enough for me to be like “Screw this crap, I’m not supporting a groomer and her rapist hubby!” ...I went from wanting Peter on my wall, to wanting to burn the pictures of him that I had printed out. That being said, I don’t believe one should support the creator and her crew that works on “Your Boyfriend”. If you want to enjoy Peter and crew, that’s fine I guess... Just remember to separate Artist from art. And since Fuboo isn’t as big time as other gaming companies such as Nintendo, Sega or Cheritz, I highly recommend that you keep your YB stuff more private among yourselves, as displaying your amazing art talent may get other people into the fandom... And honestly? That’s not really a good thing. I have my own fanon version of Peter known as “Seater”, he’s going to be used for a private RP between me and a couple of my friends. (Our Ingening RP to be exact, he’s one of the antagonists!) ...The point is, I’m not going to draw my fanon Peter and post him to my blog here or anything like that, because I don’t want Fuboo to get more exposure and therefore more support. My art talent is NOT for supporting groomers and rapists. ...And please, do not donate to the Patreon of Your Boyfriend or Black Shepherd Games. These shady people do NOT deserve any support whatsoever. Was thinking about posting this potential small tweet on my Twitter, but refrained bc I have baby minors who follow me and I don’t want them to get an interest in the game. By the way, if you’re a minor and you’re reading this PLEASE DO NOT GET INTO YOUR BOYFRIEND. Firstly, it’s highly NSFW. Secondly, the people who make the game are highly shady and dangerous. You’re far better off playing Pokemon, Zelda, Splatoon or heck even Fall Guys! ...Can’t go wrong with good old fashioned Among us either~

(I have made retweets and mentions on my Twitter not to support YB and to spread awareness though.)

Which now I’ll state my second point: I find it very disgusting how there are people who are blindly supporting Fuboo bc they “Want the game to release so they can leap into Peter senpai’s pants UwU” ...There’s actually a whole doc explaining how the Black Shepherd Games server was like this cult, and they were encouraging folks on the server to talk crap about the victim and anyone who dared to stand up for someone speaking out against their rapist. If they did that. they’d get server perks or something to that effect. Now with me just telling you all this, I don’t expect you to blindly believe me. Good on you, BUT: I have a link to a thread on Twitter as to why I believe Melissa and her hubby Jake are such awful people and why they and Black Shepherd Games as a whole should NEVER be trusted. >>> Proof that backs up the claims made in this post. Now... If you still believe that Fuboo and them are innocent after going through all of this proof, please do me a favor and block me. My blog, Ingo Simping and my silly antics are not for your enjoyment. We do NOT allow Fuboo Apologists here!

But: If you just enjoy the content, separating art from artist and adamant about not supporting Fuboo and Black Shepherd Games whatsoever, then your cool. Please feel free to interact with me if you want, as long as you don’t fall into and of my other DNI criteria.

God bless and have a lovely day, and Fuboo and BSG if any of y’all are reading this, just know one thing: You may escape the law, and you may escape punishment for your actions for now... BUT MARK MY WORD, Karma has your name and when she comes to your doorstep with a piping hot plate of justice, y’all WILL NOT ESCAPE.

You guys don’t fool me, I hope you guys rot in prison!

[kanmom51]

I wonder: if I showed this simple (and definitely incomplete) list of things Jikook did with each other to some outsider... would they think they are a couple or not?

(-> YES. YES THEY WOULD. The fact that people have the gut to discredit them because they are same sex members of a boy group blows my mind! The overly pushed heteronormative is especially disgusting :/)

JM is JK 's emergency contact

JK has JM initials tattoed on his ring finger

they know e/o's family very well JK's mom loves JM JK references JM's father multiple times JK's brother seem to like JM a lot

JM gave JK a '(love)bite' on his neck

JK nibbled on JM's ear on a stage in front of 66k people after saying 'I love you'

JK called JM baby

JK called JM dangshin

JM called JK puppy prince

JK drops honorifics with JM

you are me I am you

they where together on free days/national holidays

they are often seen arriving and leaving together in the same car

JK said JM is the perfect person to marry

JK always gives JM his full attention when JM is talking

JK said JM is the member who gave him the most confort

they went to see the first snow together

they wore matching outfits on valentine's day

they went on a private holiday together (JK's present to JM for his birthday)

JK recorded their holiday together and published the video as his last present to JM (said video has romantic undertones and lyrics)

JK has preferential treatment for JM - pancake - never getting angry and letting JM get away with anything - scolding the other members when they talk over JM

they have special voices/tones for e/o

they share or match clothes jeans shirts green jackets vampire t-shirt olive brewery sweater grey t-shirt pants/shirt by LV check collection olive green and balck plaid jacket purple shirt and purple marni sweater shoes on several occasions

they went on a date to disneyland

they went on a date bowling

they went on a date ice skating

they touch in sus places neck (both) inner thighs (both) waist (JK to JM) chest (JM to JK) hair/face/lips (both) ass (both)

they hold hands for no reason

they back-hug for no reason

they side-hug for no reason

they hug for no reason

they sit on top of e/o

JK gravitates towards JM

JK stares at JM a lot esp his lips

they cuddle

JM said he would go to the moon with JK

JM said he would feel safe with JK even on a deserted island

JM said JK is a reliable banreyo

JK said everything about JM is cute

JK said JM is the cutest

JK said JM with makeup is sexy

JK said 'if it's sexy, it's JM hyung'

JM said he loves waking up and seeing JK

JK portraied his and JM morning routine in the music video for LGO bc he wanted realism

JM said the part of his heart that thinks about JK is quite big

JK woke up early on a 'retreat' in New Zeland to collect snow and gift it to JM

JK said JM's existence is honey for him

they have been seen going shopping together

they have been seen working out together

they have given e/o plenty of compliments (even on their phisical appearence)

the thing JK is most sorry for is an argument with JM when they were younger

jin repeatedly teased them for their couply behavior

they flirt on stage magic shop

they naturally pair up for group pictures

they wait for e/o to head home

they give e/o advice on dancing, performance and singing

they are together at weird hours at night (night buddies coff coff)

V called them out several time for being together alone instead of with him (vlives)

they said they better not do vlives together bc they distract e/o

the members refers to them as a unit

staff has said they never see them separated

they have questionable selcas together (of buised lips and shared beds)

JK said JM is shameless

they flirt a lot during downtime

JM seems to like being picked up/carried around by JK

JM said JK is his happy virus

JK said he makes JM happy. JM didn't deny

rabbit spit

JM saying JK likes being tied up

allusive pick up lines everywhere my heart is burning why are you acting cute detective play with me arrest me do you think you can always be forgiven bc you are cute it's not our first time I want you why do you always come to my room give me a kiss why am I so erotic? I am going to be your future boyfriend are you happy bc of me? Don't you hear my heartbeat? I purple u do you like me that much? This is my toy JK's holy sweat You gotta spank him although he's older

questionable subtitles provided for context star, wind and romance mood and they lived happily ever after JK is happy with JM kate minslet and leonardo jungcaprio JM is JK's favourite model the director is getting into it JM and JK are one the maknae is happy thanks to JM hearts, cute comments and music from the editing team over their interactions

the sun and moon duo

golden closet film

big romantic gestures for e/o JM getting back to korea from Paris for JK's birthday JK singing romantic songs to JM

korea's open secret

being seen together taking a covid swab

JM always stays afterhours to reharse with JK

they are e/o biggest fanboys

JK is protective of JM (airport)

jimmeo and kookliet

JM got annoyed Jin called him while he was spending time with JK

they went on a boat date to see the red moon

they went to see malta together

JK is often potographing or filming JM

they have moments together that are proper misteries and so weird the mosquito net incident the whole osaka vlives fiasco the various 'home' references laguna beach the kiss sound video while JK reharses weird tweets/hashtags what do you want for your birthday, do you have a desire? Ambiguous use of the world ARMY what is tasty in Busan JM's manager the tissue incident the incriminated-selfie gate

they seem to know everything about e/o

they mention e/o a lot

their last two solo songs are love songs (finding love in unexpected places and the joy coming from happy love)

j-hope mixes them up a lot

JM has plenty of cute pet names for JK

JM said 'it could appear as if JK is simply somebody close to him who is younger (but...)'

JM is always with JK when he is phisically or emotionally hurt

JK often massages JM for his chronic pain

JM often massages/caresses JK bc yes

JK imitated JM's dangerous dieting in order to make him realize how bad it was

they have private (questionable) videos dancing together/practicing alone

JK took over a call JM did to Jin on vlive to say 'I love you'

JK said 'I love you JM' in the mic after a concert

JK said 'I love you' to JM on the red carpet in sign language

They both said they get hyped when they make eye contact on stage

JK gave JM the cutie award

JK stays close to JM when JM falls asleep in public places

they blew kisses to e/o

they got lost staring at e/o and forgot what they where doing JM on the red carpet both of them at awards

they paired accessories

they paired hair colors

they have a lot of admiration for e/o as people

JK lets (or makes) JM win

they get frequently lost in their own world

they reference things only the other understand

JK sometimes puts up a bit of a jealous act I do not approve of this

JM lets JK scold him

JK said to JM 'you are always number one for me'

JK said to JM 'I am always watching you'

JK has been recorded softly containing JM when he's on a perfectionist streak

they seek e/o out for comfort after performance hugging/hand holding

when one is hurt the other looks like he's suffering too JK on stage when JM broke down in the first virtual concert JM when JM got denied in a game

they defend e/o from the other members and have e/o's back

the other members separated them on several occasions when they got too touchy

personal space who?

They know things about e/o that are clearly not shared with the class brushing teeths snoring alarm ring sleeping time

black swan performance

they put e/o hands under the other's clothes to touch bare skin

JM kissed JK's neck

they feed e/o

spanking and ass-grabbing

they were caught on camera ogling e/o shamlessly

JM's weird strenght kink

JM said his camera roll is full ok JK

they have a different smile for e/o

other members said suspicious things about them together

JK only saw JM and J-hope during their official break

all the members minus JM complain about JK not answering his phone

heart eyes

drinking from the same bottle

blindly recognizing e/o's body parts just by touch or out of context photos

napping on each other (yeah, you read that right)

non-verbal communication over 9000

weird editorial cuts in backstage videos when the two of them are together

JM said 'JK falls asleep hugging me'

JM said 'JK plays hard to get but when he thinks I am sleeping he comes by and say I love you'

JM said he is the main model for GCF

JK said JM's photocard is sexy

JK sometimes hesitates in touching JM or holding him when he knows they r on camera

JK said JM is a fallen angel

JK praised JM's dancing several times

JK likes to tease JM

fixing e/o clothes

JK closes his eyes when JM touches him

JM run trough a whole stage abandoning his stage persona when he hought JK was being sick

JM puts JK's happiness first

similar mindset about important stuff in life

JM sat on JK. Uh. Different ways

JK putting his hands over JM while being hugged in order to drag JM even closer

JM ordering JK around and literally dragging him around

JK being overprotective

the members subtly panicking when JK/JM have to interact closely on camera

JM having to fight for JK's forgiveness while Jin was immediately let off the hook

Quite a list anon, lol. You put so much work into this list I couldn't not post it.

I do agree with most of your points if not all of them, but a good example of just how much there is out there to show how these two are the real deal.

[uwuwriting]

Incompatible ships w/ Todoroki, Kirishima, Bakugou and Midoiya

Request: hii! i love ur posts so i thought why not request ajbakaha,, can i ask for todoroki, kirishima, bakugou, izuku getting jealous bc their s/o is getting shipped with another student :D (it can be their relationship is still a secret or smth) btw i love your posts!! it's free serotonin!! 😽😽- anonymous

Secret relationships are my favorite trope. This and friends to lovers. I live for these types of fics. Random fact, my allergies are acting up bc I helped take down the Christmas decorations and now my hands are on fire. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff, minor suggestive themes not something major though

Todoroki Shouto

-Things like jealousy are a rare occurrence in your relationship. 

-Todoroki is the type of boyfriend who trusts you blindly and would put his own life in your hands without a single hesitation. 

-Sometimes it bothers him how other people effortlessly flirt with you but he knows that nothing will come out of it no matter how much they chat you up. 

-He knows you can handle yourself and get out of  a situation if things start getting out of hand. 

-And if you can’t, he will butt in glaring down at the person who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

-Everyone around you seem to believe that the two of you are really close friends; none of them have caught a whiff of your relationship and you are proud of yourselves. 

-I mean it is pretty hard keeping so many romantic milestones hidden from your friends. 

-But alas you both knew that keeping all of this to yourselves would be for the best. 

-Now, we all know that the girls of your class drool over any remotely romantic interaction you have. 

-Same goes for everyone actually. 

-Oh Kirishima held the door open for you the other day?? I can see a new ship sailing. 

-Sero helped you pick up your stuff when you bumped into a wall? Your knight in shining armor. 

-Really any sort of kind gesture was interpreted as romantic interest at this point. 

-The worst part of it all was the ship they had created and have been simping over for the past three months. 

-You had managed to create an unexpected friendship with Monoma from class 3-B. 

-The agency he interns in is right next to yours so you take the same train and then walk to almost the same building every single day. 

-You see him during patrol, the pro heroes you work under have paired up once or twice so a friendship was inevitable. 

-So imagine the surprise on your classmate’s faces when Monoma began waiting for you outside the 3-A dorm building.

-Mina wouldn’t shut up about how cute you two were together and what a perfect match you made. 

-Soon enough the other idiots joined the party and you were drowned in ‘awwww’s and ‘love story in the making’s. 

-You got tired of explaining that he was just a friend, that you weren’t interested in him. 

-The fact that you could feel Todoroki’s gaze burn through your back didn’t help at all. 

-Your boyfriend had asked you about Monoma because he too found it weird how he waited for you everyday. 

-The boy’s presence didn’t bother him at first. 

-He was lowkey grateful that you finally had company on your way to the agency considering he couldn’t walk with you since his building was in the opposite direction. 

-It started becoming a problem when all he could hear during the breaks was the stupid ship name the girls had created. 

-He could see how visibly uncomfortable it made you and how you would seek for his gaze during those moments. 

-Then they started talking about how cute your kids would be and that’s when Shoto had enough. 

-It’s one thing hearing about how cute your girlfriend would be with someone else and it’s completely different when you hear about their potential offspring. 

-Grabbing your wrist he basically dragged you out the classroom and into an empty hallway, pinning you to the nearest wall before connecting his lips with yours. 

-You let a surprised gasp which gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss, making you grasp onto his shirt as your knees gave out. 

-After what felt like an eternity he let you go for air before attacking your jaw, neck and collarbones. 

-Soon those soft kisses turned into little love bites. 

- “Sho you’re gonna leave a mark.” 

-Releasing your skin from between his teeth, he admired the reddish hickey he had left at the base of your neck. 

-He was sure your shirt’s collar could cover it up just barely. 

- “That’s the point, love.” 

-Intertwining your fingers, he led you back to class, going to his seat with a proud smirk on his lips leaving a very flustered puffy-lips-messy-haired you in his wake. 

Kirishima Eijiro 

-Kiribaby is not the jealous type. 

-Like only if you give your undivided attention to a puppy and you smother it with all your love and affection then maybe, just maybe, he will pout a bit and ask for his own fair share of love. 

-He trusts you just like Todoroki does.

-Nothing has ever happened to suggest that he should worry about others stealing you from him so he doesn’t worry. 

-Plus you are always together no matter what. 

-Almost everyone from your class knows that you are together so the shipping doesn’t start from them. 

-Oh no.

-It starts from class 3-B who has seen you talk to Tetsutetsu quite a bit this past few weeks. 

-You might wait for him outside their classroom during lunch breaks. 

-They have caught you hanging out outside of the school grounds. 

-So the only logical explanation they can come up with is that you two are either A) dating or B) have a thing for each other and are getting there. 

-Soon enough rumors start circulating. 

- “Did you know that someone from the hero course is dating that metal guy from class 3-B?”

- “Yeah yeah I heard it’s that girl Y/N. They do look really cute together, not gonna lie.”

-Eventually these rumors reach Kiri’s ears and they kinda get to him.

-He knows that you haven’t been hanging out extra with Tetsutetsu since every time you guys go out he is always with you. 

-You are the type of couple who does everything together, literally. 

-Apart from being in different agencies ya’ll are holding hands almost 24/7.

-So he really doesn’t get what everyone is talking about. 

-Mineta doesn’t help. 

-He really doesn’t. 

-He starts making scenarios about what you do while Kirishima is out of the dorms; how you have wrapped both homies around your finger and toying with them. 

-Oh the very vivid scenes he creates with all three of you in a…. compromising position. 

-Kirishima hates that most of all. 

-The words coming out of Mineta’s mouth disgust him to no end and soon enough he is walking to your dorm ready to talk this through. 

-Opening the door you greet your boyfriend with a smile and a quick peck but you immediately know what is on his mind. 

- “Baby what are we gonna do?” 

-You basically whine at the question. 

-He spends the whole night at your dorm brainstorming ideas until you both pass out on your floor. 

-And your solution to the problem? 

-Ignore the whole thing and continue on with your lives. 

-He suggested maybe leaving a mark somewhere *like our boy Sho* but you shot him down saying that they would just think Tetsutetsu did it. 

-After Monoma catches you in your classroom making out on your desk though the rumors soon die out. 

Bakugou Katsuki

-Crazy boom boom boy. 

-Your relationship is a secret because he doesn’t want to deal with all the other idiots gushing over your relationship and getting all up in your business. 

-Your relationship is a sacred thing he has sworn to protect and he won’t let Mineta’s ugly ass hands get anywhere near it. 

-Gonna taint it even with his thoughts. 

-Guard dog Bakugou bark bark. 

-It’s fairly easy to maintain a secret relationship with him. 

-Sure he might be a tiny bit calmer with you and maybe just maybe his eyes linger on you during training but yeah he treats you just like he treats all the other extras he is surrounded by. 

-Now, Bakugou is kinda *read a lot* jealous in general. 

-He doesn’t like when people he doesn’t fully trust or like, talk to you or are close to you. 

-He has butted in on your conversations with Todoroki one too many times and the poor crispy baby is so confused like why are you like this? 

-I just want the chemistry notes please let me get them in peace for once.

-You have chastised him about that manier times but your resolve melts when he pouts *YES HE POUTS AT YOU RWIHPWIE* before wrapping his strong arms around you. 

- “I just don’t wanna lose you, dumbass.” 

-You can barely make out his words as his face is buried in your stomach but you heard him and now you are tearing up at the pure emotion he is showing at these moments. 

-At the end of the day though, he trusts you. 

-He may not trust the other horny extras around you but he fully trusts you. 

-There’s no doubt about that. 

-You can imagine ,though, the instant rage he felt when he heard the girls talking about you and Deku. 

- “They do make a great couple.” 

- “Have you seen how they look at each other?” 

- “Good for her, Deku is perfect boyfriend material.” 

-First of all, how dare you, second hold the fuck up…..when did this become a WhoRe hOuSe?!?!?!?!  

-Legit someone has to shake him out of his stupor after that one. 

-You look at Deku in a certain way? 

-Fucking DEKU?!?!?! 

-THoughts are swirling in his mind almost pouring out of his ears when he hears the voice. 

-That annoying ass voice that he has engraved in his brain since childhood. 

-And the moment his eyes land upon Deku and you speaking, he sees red. 

-He is pouncing on Deku in -5 seconds, the poor green haired boy completely unaware of what hit him, literally. 

-They are on the floor wrestling on another, you screaming at Katsuki to stop and get his shit together while your boyfriend is spewing curse after curse at the OFA user simultaneously asking what the hell he was doing with HIS girlfriend. 

-Aizawa had to break them up. 

-They both got detention even though Deku did literally nothing. 

-Katsuki was denied cuddles for a whole week and he was set on explaining duty now that the cat was out of the bag. 

Midoriya Izuku 

-Izuku is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. 

-He is loyal, shows emotions, is good at communicating with you, has incredible date ideas although he is kinda forgetful at times and his packed schedule doesn’t leave enough time to spend with you, at least not as much as he wants, but he always tries to make up for it in other ways.

-You love how much trust he puts in you. 

-You couldn’t be more grateful. 

-But Izuku has his insecurities. 

-At times it becomes hard for him to understand why exactly you’ve chosen him to love when you could have anyone you wanted in this school. 

-He can’t wrap his pretty little head around the reason why you stay with him when the only thing you get out of all this is others saying you deserve better than some crybaby. 

-It has become his mission to prove to you that he isn’t what others say he is; he isn’t some crybaby, he is a hero in training who won’t hesitate to risk his life for you. 

-You have reassured him multiple times that you don’t care what others say.

-You fell in love with him, him and all of his flaws. 

-No one told you that you should fall for him and no you didn’t agree to date him out of pity. 

-Most of the time you manage to erase those thoughts from his mind replacing them with the warm feeling of your love.

-But there comes a time when no matter what you say, the words of other people will get the best of him and it will be a struggle to build himself back up. 

-He is thankful to have you by his side during those moments because then he truly feels weak, he feels helpless, he knows these things shouldn’t bother him. 

-He loves you and you love him end of story, but they do get to him. 

-One of the worst times he questioned if he was good enough was during your third year. 

-Being in the support department you couldn’t be by his side 24/7 but you did always manage to see him during breaks to the point the whole class knew you and slowly became your friends. 

-The thing is they thought you two were also friends; neither had ever mentioned your relationship and things felt so comfortable between you that they assumed that you were really close friends. 

-Izuku had suggested keeping your relationship on the down low; him being in the hero course and having created rather the reputation, he was afraid that you would be dragged into something dangerous. 

-Plus All Might advised you two to keep it a secret and All Might’s words are law. 

-Izuku loved how well you got along with his friends, it meant that when he revealed your relationship they would all welcome you with open arms. 

-What he didn’t expect though was for them to start shipping you with someone else. 

-For some weird reason the girls of his class started obsessing over your interactions with Bakugou and soon after that they started trying to get you two alone in the same room, much to your dismay. 

-In reality, Bakugou was the only person who knew about your relationship. 

-He had ran into you as you were leaving Izuku’s dorm room, catching you two kiss goodnight. 

-Bakugou, as much as he disliked Izuku, would never get in the way of your relationship and he hated this ship shit as much maybe even more than you did. 

-Izuku was ready to crawl into a whole and die. 

-You had to stay in his room for almost a whole month to calm him down completely, him flying you to your own building in the morning so you don’t get in trouble. 

-It was a difficult time aand his classmate’s comments didn’t help one bit. 

-The tipping point was when he overheard Mina devising a plan of setting you guys up. 

-He walked down to the common room the next day with you next to him, hands intertwined, a hickey barely visible under the hem of HIS shirt, shocking everyone in the vicinity. 

-A new ship was created *after they harassed you for answers*

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven  @akita-l-lynn @angel6786​ @meena-in-a-nutshell​

[hwy-unicorn]

make everything alright, if only for tonight

summary: “I haven’t felt safe with a man in so long,” she breathed, eyes looking down at where her hands were fidgeting with his fingers. “I feel safe with you. And I’m… nervous to mess it up. I’m scared I’m going to mess us up.”

He pressed his lips gently to forehead and she sighed, the tension escaping her at the tender gesture of affection. The affection that she found so rare from others, yet an affection that seemed to come so easily to him in regards to her.

“Nothing you do could ever mess us up.”

“But what if-“

“Shh,” his lips find hers, the kiss so soft and tender, nothing like the sloppy, wet and rushed kisses they shared only moments ago. “I mean it. Nothing. Okay?”

Norma and Alex share an intimate night together

NSFW

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33649003

Norma felt devastatingly anxious as she rapidly flicked the light switch, waiting for the brightness to flood the darkness of the room, sighing deeply as nothing happened. She glanced uneasily around the basement, trying to find the flashlight that she knew she had somewhere. Norma was not particularly scared of the dark, but Norman was gone now, and she was alone in the large house. Alex had called her earlier, awkwardly reassuring her that he’d be home late and to go on and have dinner without him, and it was nearing ten pm now, and there had been no word from him since.

She contemplated calling him, but quickly shoved the idea from her brain the moment it appeared. He had done enough for her in these past few days, escorting Norman to Pineview and marrying her a day later so she had insurance to keep him there. She was not about to ask more favors from him, especially one to come home from work so she wouldn’t be afraid. They were married, yes, but not like that.

Her shaky hands flick the flashlight on, sweeping around the dark basement as she made her way back towards the stairs. She couldn’t bear to be in the basement much anymore, the memory of her son pointing a gun at her only a few nights ago, was still fresh in her mind, and though he was safely away and getting treatment, she couldn’t help the unease. The whole house seemed so empty and much too full all at once, and she couldn’t escape the crushing loneliness or extreme unease at all of it.

Norma shut the basement door, fingers gripping the knob tightly as she released a soft sigh into the darkness. Damn it Alex, where are you? The sudden creak of the front door startled her, and she turned, meeting Alex’s equally startled expression.

“Jeez Norma.”

“You’re home,” she couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice, or the small smile from appearing on her face, feeling suddenly so much safer with his presence in the darkness of the house.

“It’s late, why are you up?”

And just like that, the smile was gone as soon as it had appeared, defenses on the rise as she glared haughtily at him. “Because I can be, is that an issue for you?”

“What? No, I just-” she glanced down at the bottle in his hand. “- wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s it-”

“Is that whiskey?”

He looked down at the bottle, as if he just remembered he was carrying it, shrugging somewhat guiltily. “Er… yeah sorta,” he mumbled.

“I have whiskey here, Alex, why didn’t you just drink that?”

“That’s… that’s yours, I just thought-“

She rolled her eyes dramatically, snatching the bottle from his hand and reading the label. “Jesus Alex, you live here,” she made a small noise of disgust as she shoved it back into his hand. “This kind sucks too. Come on, I’ll get you some of the good stuff.”

She was flurrying off into the kitchen before he could protest, and for a moment, he contemplated just going up the stairs and to his room. It had been a long day, much longer thanks to the drunk asshole who decided to drive at eighty five miles before slamming into an electric pole, causing a power outage for half the town. He decided against it when her voice called out to him from the kitchen, not wanting to hurt her feelings, nor make her upset.

He stopped in the doorway, watching uselessly as she stretched up on her tiptoes and blindly grabbed at the array of glassware that lined her top shelves, unable to help the wandering of his eyes over her legs as the skirt of her dress rose higher at her actions. He quickly averted his gaze the minute she was back down on steady feet, glasses in hand.

“Sorry it’s so dark,” she said, haphazardly waving one of the cups around. “These were all the candles I had. Do you have any idea what happened to the power? I checked the breaker but it’s not that.”

“Yeah, some guy hit a pole. Power should be back up in a few hours.”

“What an asshole.”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

She slid a glass over to him, before taking a seat at the table, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to sit across from her. It was late, much too late to be having a glass of whiskey and awkwardly chatting with his new wife, but he sat down anyway.

“Was he drinking?” she asked, and it took a moment for Alex to realize that she was still talking of the driver he mentioned, before nodding. “Did he die?”

Alex spluttered out an anxious laugh. “Jesus, no. He’s alive. He’s in the hospital now, he’ll likely have a concussion, but besides that and a hefty jail time, he’ll be okay.”

She nodded, and silence fell over them once more, the lack of noise feeling heavy and uncomfortable, mostly because Alex and Norma didn’t do this. They didn’t have quiet moments together; their experiences with one another were always a confrontation, a clash of interests. And now they were married, and sitting in her dark kitchen, all alone in her house.

He prepared to excuse himself up to his room, knocking back the whiskey in his glass like a shot, when she spoke again. “I called Pineview, but they still won’t let me visit. They won’t even tell me anything at all!”

“I’m sure he’s okay, Norma. You can go see him tomorrow, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just wish they could’ve told me something. I mean, I’ve been a mess over it, over him, and I just…I’m his mother! They should tell me, right? I’m his guardian! He lives with me, I take care of him.”

“He’s eighteen,” Alex shrugged, and she sighed dramatically. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, that’s what they said,” she muttered, clearly annoyed that Alex had no way to fix her small dilemma, and he almost wanted to laugh at the idea that Norma was hoping for a different answer, hoping that Pineview’s withholding of information about her son was somehow illegal, and that there was a way for Alex to fix it. It’s so characteristically Norma, turning to Alex for help when she doesn’t receive the answer she wants elsewhere.

“Norman’s a reasonable kid. I’m sure he’s adjusting well,” he said, hoping his words offered her some sort of comfort. If they did or didn’t, she didn’t let it show, pouring more whiskey into both of their glasses as soon as hers finished.

“We’ve never been apart for so long before,” she muttered sadly, fingers dancing ever so lightly along the rim of the glass. “When he was little, he used to get so sad when he had to go to school. He always said he missed me too much. And now he’s going to be gone for god knows how long, and I don’t know if I can-”

“Norma,” he reached across the table, his hand curling around hers before he could stop himself, effectively cutting her off. “You’re doing the right thing.”

She let out a soft, shaky breath. “I hope so.”

He made to take his hand back, feeling like he was slightly overstepping with the soft amount of contact, but she stopped him, turning her hand over and wrapping her fingers around his. He looked up at her, taking in her wide, teary eyes and trembling bottom lip.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she breathed. “Will you stay up with me? Just for a little bit?”

He should say no. He had work in the morning, and it was already later than he was used to, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny her. Not when she was looking at him so sadly, holding his hand so tightly. Not when she was feeling so lonely without her son in a house so big and empty.

“Sure, Norma.”

She brightened for just a moment, before standing abruptly and gathering their glasses and her newly opened bottle of whiskey into her hands, heading towards the living room, clearly expecting Alex to follow.

“I would say we could watch a movie but…” she sighed, setting the things on the coffee table and flopping back onto the couch.

“No power,” he said and she nodded.

“No power.”

He sat on the armchair by the couch, keeping himself away and out of her space in case she became uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine that it was easy having another man in the house, one she didn’t know very well. Sure, they were acquaintances, and had helped each other out before, but they didn’t know much about one another.

“We could talk,” she offered, before instantly crinkling her nose. “We aren't very good at talking.”

“We aren’t," he laughed.

She smiled softly, deciding to busy herself with slowly filling each of their glasses fuller, despite them already being half filled.

“But we’re married now,” she said, sliding the glass towards him, the liquid sloshing out and down the side. “We need to practice.”

She was teasing him, keeping her tone light and giggly, even though she felt anything but light. Alex was tense, keeping his responses short and Norma felt a sinking in her stomach. She knew her and Alex weren’t exactly friends, barely even acquaintances really, but still, she hoped to find comfort in him tonight, to talk and laugh like they had done this for years, and for her to just forget about where Norman was and what he was doing. And it didn’t seem that Alex really felt like talking about much of anything.

Until, “Alright, then what do married people talk about?”

She smiled, biting down on her bottom lip to suppress it, relieved he was playing along. She thought for a moment. “Taxes.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Taxes?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “You know, if the taxes are too high.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s what married couples talk about.”

“Pfft, I’ve been married twice, Alex. I know what married couples talk about.” Granted, Norma didn’t talk much about taxes with neither John nor Sam. She was never involved in the financial interests, except for when she was in trouble for spending too much money.

“Well, I’ve been married, and we definitely didn’t talk much about taxes.”

“Oh my god. You were married?”

Alex laughed. “The surprise in your tone hurts!”

“No!” Norma giggled, sitting up and criss crossing her legs underneath her. “No! I just… okay yeah. I’m a little surprised… is it anyone I know?”

“God no. It was forever ago.” Norma nodded, placing her chin in her hands, and he realized she was waiting for him to continue. He hadn’t really talked about his marriage with anyone before, and felt suddenly nervous to share a part of his past with her. “We were young, erm, it was when I was in the marines. She was the sister of one of my buddies. Met and married three weeks later, divorced six months after that-“

“Aww no! What happened?” Norma pouted dramatically.

“We just didn’t work. It was a mistake in the first place,” he shrugged, before taking another drink of his much too full glass of whiskey. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What about your marriages?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh… well. My high school boyfriend got me pregnant and we ran off and had Dylan, and when he was around two, I met Norman’s father, Sam. I… I thought I was in love, and we had an affair and... and Dylan’s father left me and I married him. He was… he was an asshole.”

Norma huffed out an anxious laugh, wringing her hands together nervously as she spoke about her previous marriages with a sort of nonchalance that wouldn’t be expected when talking about an abusive relationship. If anything, Alex assumed he’d hear some sort of malice in her tone, assumed she’d be rightfully angry over what was done to her back then, but heard nothing of the sort, instead an almost sad acceptance over the previous hardships of her life.

“I’m sorry,” Alex murmured, and she instantly shrugged, waving her hand as if it were no big deal.

“No, it’s okay. Sam’s dead and gone and he can’t hurt me from beyond the grave.”

“But he did before,” Alex said seriously, their eyes meeting, and Norma swallowed hard, cringing at the short flash of memories that disappeared before they could take any real hold. He did before.

“Yeah, he… he hated me,” she trilled out a little fake laugh. “I must be a pain to be married to. So,” she held up her glass, “good luck.”

It went silent again, and Norma found herself lost in thought, almost anxious over what she had revealed to Alex. He had no real way of knowing that Sam used to hurt her; he just assumed and she just confirmed, for no real reason other than that she felt she would have no judgment from him, and knew he wouldn’t press for information if it became too much for her. Perhaps that’s why she found herself suddenly wanting to tell him everything.

Can you imagine that?” she asked suddenly, sitting up straighter. “I mean… I mean I was married to the guy for twenty years. Twenty years of my life were spent with a man who hated me.”

Norma flopped her head back dramatically on the cushions, sighing heavily up at the ceiling. She listened to the soft creaking of the armchair as Alex stood, making his way over and plopping down heavily on the couch next to her. He laid his head over the back of the sofa, next to hers, and she breathed deep, the closeness of their bodies making her tense with…. something that she couldn’t quite name. Anticipation? Maybe. Nothing would happen though, she was sure of that. Alex didn’t like her like that , and she didn’t like him like that either.

Liar.

Okay, maybe she liked him like that a little bit. But not much. Not enough to have sex with him on her sofa in her living room. She could feel Alex staring at her, and it took everything to not turn her head to look back at him.

“He didn’t deserve you,” Alex finally said, his voice barely a whisper, and Norma felt a knot in her throat all of the sudden.

“I deserved him. It. All of it,” she replied once the knot had loosened, and Alex shook his head, but she didn’t let him speak anymore. “I stayed. I should’ve left after the first time he hit me but I didn’t. I stayed. I stayed with a man who hated me, who scared me and hurt me, and with a man that couldn’t even make me-“ she bit her lip then, silencing the words that she almost let leave her lips, suddenly remembering who she was talking to, wondering for a moment if the glass and a half of whiskey really had inebriated her enough to almost let those words spill.

“Couldn’t what?” he asked innocently, and her face flushed. She tore his gaze away from his and sat up, resting her elbows on her knees, groaning. “Norma?”

“Don’t act dense,” she snapped and he frowned, sitting up next to her.

“What? I-I’m not. What are you talking about?"

She turned back around to face him, eyes roaming over his face at the pure confusion in his gaze, seemingly not understanding where Norma’s innocent but also not so innocent sentence was leading. “Oh, so you just are dense,” she teased, laughing anxiously, as he frowned, staring at her flushed cheeks and nervous smile while she fidgeted with her fingers.

“Alex,” she sighed. “He couldn’t… make me…” she dragged out the words, giving him the opportunity to fill in the blanks as he stared at her, trying to understand what she meant, but drawing a blank. “Oh my god!” she groaned. “He couldn’t make me cum.”

His silence felt different now, as he tore his gaze away from hers, face flushed as he covered it. “Oh god. Norma I’m sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t- I-I-“

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped her at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Here she was, at nearly eleven pm at night, with her husband-but not like that- telling him all about her shitty, dead, ex-husband who couldn’t make her cum.

“Oh god. What are we doing?” she laughed. “What am I even saying?” she picked up the whiskey bottle, giving it a good shake. “Have I really drank that much?”

He couldn’t help but laugh with her, groaning slightly as he ran his hands down his face.

There was a brief moment of silence after their laughter subsided, before Alex finally turned to look at her again. “Like ever?” he asked, and she should be offended that he hadn’t strayed from the topic, but couldn’t really seem to care anymore.

“Never,” she confirms. “But to be fair, no one else could either.”

She looked at him, smiling sheepishly at his shocked expression. This was not a conversation they should’ve been having, it was drawing into dangerous territory, pushing a boundary that neither had crossed before. Norma blamed it on the lack of sleep from the past few days, but deep down knew that it’s for reasons other than that too.

“No one?” he asked. “Shelby?”

“Pfft, Zack?” she laughed. “Yeah right. He was young and he didn’t care.”

Alex’s shock had faded into something so sad that Norma couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. She didn’t want him to feel sorry that none of her previous partners had ever cared, nor taken the time to try and give her any pleasure. It was almost embarrassing, and she felt broken.

“It’s fine, really,” she said quickly, as she averted her eyes. “I can take care of it myself.”

She startled as his hand rested atop hers, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down at their hands. Hers seemed so small in comparison. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The conversation had gone much too far now, crossing over to the point of no return and there was no turning back, no unsaying what she said, no way to take back everything she had admitted to him in her second day of barely any sleep state of mind. She should’ve expected his hand coming to touch her face, but somehow didn’t, somehow still startling just slightly as she met his eyes. His thumb traced along her jaw, down over her bottom lip, his eyes following the path his touch was mapping out along her skin, and she let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, as he leaned in impossibly closer than before. “Alex…”

His lips touched hers, just briefly, not even truly a kiss. Just a soft brush that left her wanting more, but knowing she had to stop him. Alex didn’t like her like this. Her hands came up to touch his shoulders, giving in for a just moment longer as she prepared herself to deny him, for not only her own sanity, but his as well. He didn’t like her like this.

She didn’t get the chance to, however, because his next words have her whimpering, unable to catch her breath. “I can make you cum,” against her lips and she shuddered deliciously in his arms.

“No you…” another brush of his lips, another gasp, another shudder. “You don’t want me.”

“I do,” he breathed. “I do.”

“No,” her hands push slightly on his shoulders, grip firm, keeping his body at somewhat of a distance even if his lips haven’t left hers. “You’re saying that now because you don’t have any other options right now. I’m here, I’m convenient but I’m not what you want.”

He pulled back to look at her, hands cupping her face and thumbs tenderly stroking her cheekbones. His gaze was so serious, yet so soft, and Norma found herself wanting to get lost in his eyes forever.

“You are what I want, Norma. I’ve always wanted you.”

Her breath hitched at the confession, but she refused to let herself believe it. She couldn’t let herself believe it, because Alex was a good man. So incredibly good, and despite their arguments and bickering and how much he got under her skin, he deserved so much more than what she had to offer.

So she shook her head vehemently again, feeling the need to tear herself apart so he didn’t want her anymore, ever again.

“No I… I can’t cum. I won’t be able to, I-“

“You don’t know that, because no one’s ever even tried.”

He was right. No man ever had the desire to touch her in ways that would make her feel on fire, no man had ever wanted to bring her to orgasm, to watch her gasp and shudder and crash and fall. No man before him.

“I’m- I’m all gross Alex, I haven’t showered in like three days. I’m not wearing makeup, and my underwear is entirely unsexy, and I’m not going to be good enough to-“

She was cut off as Alex suddenly grabbed her hand, his grip around her wrist tight, yet not painful. Somehow firm, yet gentle all at once, and she gasped when he pressed it against the hardness in his jeans. His hand cupped the back of hers, his fingers stroking ever so lightly along her dainty ones as she let out a shuddering gasp, softly squeezing him.

“Look at what you do to me, Norma,” she stared down at her hand over him, sucking in soft breaths to keep herself grounded as he watched her react to such intimacy. Alex pressed his forehead against hers. “Feel what you do to me and try telling me again that I don’t want you. That you’re not good enough. Fuck… Norma. You’re all I’ve ever wanted."

She closed her hand around him again, applying a bit more pressure, as his head fell to her neck, kissing and nipping at her soft and sensitive skin. She’s almost surprised at the choked out gasp he let out on the crook of her neck. Norma knew she was attractive, knew she was good at sex and had a knack for driving men insane, but never had she thought that Alex would want her like this. She never thought he’d want to touch her as softly and tenderly as he was now, or want to kiss her in places that made her shiver in his arms.

Norma saw herself as nothing but a nuisance to him. Sure, he was attracted to her, and she had imagined that they’d probably have sex eventually, but she’s genuinely surprised at how he was touching her, the gentle stroke of his fingertips being so fleeting that she’s almost overwhelmed. And not only that, but Alex had expressed a desire to bring her pleasure. Had whispered that he wanted to bring her to release while he brushed his lips so soft over her own. Had insisted that he’d at least try while she was convinced she couldn’t.

“I want to make you feel good. If this is what you want, if you’ll let me… I want to.”

God, she wanted to just as badly. “Not here. Upst-” she gasped, letting out a nervous little giggle as he suddenly stood and swept her up into his arms. She let her head fall into the crook of his neck, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin as he carried her up the stairs and backed up into her room.

He set her on her feet the minute they crossed through the threshold, pressing his lips to hers in an entirely uncoordinated and sloppy way, both breathing hard as they tried to find a rhythm and balance to the frantic kisses. Her hands dropped to his belt, trembling as she began to undo it, looping the leather out through the rings, the metal clinking together as she struggled. His hands suddenly came down, covering hers and she let out a soft gasp and she met his gaze, his eyes kind.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Norma blinked up at him blankly for a moment, thinking for a moment that he’s changed his mind, before realizing that he sees her, shaking and nervous, unable to simply undo his belt, as a sign that she does not want this. That it has gone too far, and that she is afraid to take it back. Her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lips as his gaze softened slightly at her nervous little actions.

“I want to,” she breathed, reaching for his belt once more, but his hand stopped hers again, looking entirely unconvinced. “I’m just… nervous,” she said finally, realizing Alex wouldn’t accept her answer without some sort of explanation.

“I haven’t felt safe with a man in so long,” she breathed, eyes looking down at where her hands were fidgeting with his fingers. “I feel safe with you. And I’m… nervous to mess it up. I’m scared I’m going to mess us up.”

He pressed his lips gently to forehead and she sighed, the tension escaping her at the tender gesture of affection. The affection that she found so rare from others, yet an affection that seemed to come so easily to him in regards to her.

“Nothing you do could ever mess us up.”

“But what if-“

“Shh,” his lips find hers, the kiss so soft and tender, nothing like the sloppy, wet and rushed kisses they shared only moments ago. “I mean it. Nothing. Okay?”

Norma let out a soft sigh into his mouth, nodding frantically as his hands swept up and down her sides, the pressure intoxicating. They land on her hips, rest there as they continue to kiss, soft and slow and sensual now that the nerves have subsided a little. Norma knew she was safe, knew that Alex would stop the minute she said, knew that even if he couldn’t make her cum that she would be happy solely for knowing that he wanted to try, and that he had given her safety to explore.

Her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back towards the bed, flopping down ungracefully, him following after her, his hand shooting out to catch himself before his entire weight flounced on top of her. She moved her lips down his jaw, breathing out a soft laugh into the skin as he tried to undo the buttons of her shirt with one hand, finding it harder to do than he anticipated.

“I’ve got it,” she murmured sweetly, giving him a soft smile as she undoes the buttons, pulling the shirt off her with a practiced ease.

She slid further up the bed, realizing their half standing, half lying position was entirely inconvenient, and he followed, leaning down to press soft, sweet kisses against her newly exposed skin. He trailed his lips back up her neck, kissing along her jaw, stopping every so often to suck deliciously on her sensitive skin while his hands fumbled behind her for the clasp of her bra, finding it hard to locate when she was pressed against the pillows, and he couldn’t help but blush at his seeming failure to undress Norma.

Norma laughed up at him, not unkindly, but enough to make Alex feel slightly more embarrassed as she pushed his hands away. “It’s on the front.”

“Oh,” he muttered, watching as she undid the bra, sliding her arms out of the straps.

“Are you going to be able to unzip my skirt?” she teased, as she began to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Or will you need some help with that too?”

“Oh shush,” he replied, moving her hands away from the buttons of his shirt to cup her breast in his hand, thumb gently rolling over her nipple, causing her to gasp just softly. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she countered, making to resume her work of button undoing, when he leans down, sucking the soft peak of her breast into his mouth. “ Oh.”

Her head fell back against the pillows, whimpering softly as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud of her nipple. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging his head back up towards her and clashing their lips together, sloppy and untethered, and she finally undoes the rest of the buttons of his skirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it haphazardly on the floor, her dainty hands running up and down his chest.

His hand slides down her stomach and around her backside, pulling at the zipper of her skirt. She lifted her hips, kicking the flowy fabric off, spreading her legs as he rested his thigh between hers, applying pressure where she needed it most, and she gasped. She rolled her hips against his thigh, letting out a soft mewl at the pleasure she was finding from simply rocking against him.

“Jesus,” he murmured, watching her head fall back onto the pillows. “God… you’re so beautiful.”

“Can you- oh- ” she shuddered deliciously as he gently rolled her nipple between his fingers, relishing in the soft moans she was granting him. “I want… I…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you inside me. Please, Alex.”

He moved his leg from where it was slotted between hers, feeling instantly sorry as she let out a little whine from the loss of contact, hoping to quickly make up for it as he undid his belt, kicking his jeans off his legs, as she does the same with her underwear, before immediately taking his place on top of her. Her hand reached down between them, pumping him softly into her hand, before lining him up at her entrance, pulling at his shoulder with her other hand, desperately trying to get him to lean down into her.

“Are you sure?” he breathed, hand cupping her face tenderly.

“I’m sure,” she whimpered. “Alex, I swear if you make me wait any longer-” she gasped, the threat dying on her lips as he slowly and gently slid into her, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing soft fluttery circles to help her relax.

“Are you okay?” he asked, almost concerned at her quick little pants.

“Yes,” she breathed. “You feel so good.”

He thrusted into her gently, causing another whimpering moan to spill from her lips, while his thumb continued it’s teasing little dance over her clit. “Yeah?”

“More. Please, I need more.”

He thrusted into her again, finding a steady and easy pace that she seemed to enjoy, gasps and whimpers and soft moans spilling from her lips, as her hands clutched onto him, trying to keep herself grounded amidst the overwhelming sensations. Alex suddenly increased the pressure on her clit, and she gasped as he rubbed his thumb around her in hard circles, her legs falling open easily, practically melting into the sheets below her as her release slowly built inside of her.

“Alex,” she whimpered. “I- I need- faster.”

He complied, groaning as he began to thrust into her at a faster pace, feeling as if he could come undone at any moment, willing himself to hold back. “God, Norma…”

She felt the steady pressure building inside of her, and she gasped, holding onto him tighter as his fingers began moving faster over her. The pressure continued to build, faster and faster, before she broke open, coming undone with a sharp gasp and a shaky moan, his fingers continuing as she rode through it, and slinking away from her when she became too sensitive and pushed it away. Alex followed not long after, thrusting sloppily a few times, before slipping out of her and finding his release on the sheets below, instantly feeling bad for dirtying her bed, but not wanting to cum inside her without permission.

“Shit. Your sheets-”

She breathed out a soft little giggle, brushing her hair from her eyes. “I don’t care about my sheets.”

He dipped his head down, pressing his lips soft against hers, laughing with her into the kiss as he brushed errant tendrils of blonde hair sweetly away from her face, hand cupping her cheek tenderly. Light suddenly flooded the room, and they broke apart, giggling softly to one another.

"Power's back."

"I see," she replied. "You know, if we just would've waited a bit longer than we wouldn't have to fumble around in the dark."

"I don't think I could've waited any longer," he admitted, and she laughed again.

Norma was not sure what this meant for them, where they would go from here, but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it any longer, not when he was touching her so softly. Not when he gently cleaned her off, patting a warm cloth between her thighs, and kissing her forehead gently. Not when he changed her sheets, not when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her with ease, flopping back onto the bed while they both laughed. And especially not when he wrapped her up gently in his arms, holding her close until they fall asleep.

[drabbles-mc]

Take Care Of It

Kozik x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Kozik x f!reader with a similar scenario to the Juice and spider incident? One that sparks a relationship. (Referencing This Juice fic)

Warnings: language, mentions of spiders, nudity

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I’m blown away by how much people have loved the “spider in the shower” scenario. These have been so fun to write! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

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You stopped by T-M after your run, hoping that they would have finished working on your car by now. However, as you slowed down to a walk as you entered the compound, you instantly saw that your car was still on the lift. You let out a sigh as you slid your headphones down so they rested around your neck.

“Still not done, huh?” you asked as you walked over to Juice, who was digging through the tool chest for something that he clearly couldn’t find.

He looked up at you, shaking his head, “Sorry. Should be done soon.”

You shrugged, knowing that complaining about it wasn’t going to change the situation, “No worries,” you paused, looking around the lot, “Kozik around?”

Juice nodded towards the clubhouse, “Rolled in a few minutes ago.”

“Great. Thank you,” you glanced over at your car, “Give me a shout when it’s done?”

“You got it.”

You flashed him a smile before turning and walking towards the clubhouse. When you walked inside it was fairly quiet, just a few of the guys hanging around with a few women who didn’t look like they had even left the night before. None of them were the person you were looking for, though.

“Half-Sack,” you called to get his attention as he wiped down the bar, “You seen Kozik?”

He gestured towards the back hall, “Dorms.”

Without another word you made your way to the back hall. You heard him shuffling around inside his dorm and you gently knocked on the door. Immediately he called for you to come in and you pushed the door open.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed and he looked up at you with a smile when he realized that it was you who had just walked in. His smile made your heart speed up inside your chest and you tried not to let it show.

There was a special kind of comfort between the two of you. Ever since he had come back from Tacoma, the two of you had been close. You considered him to be your closest friend in the club these days—he was the easiest and most fun to be around. He made you feel safe. Too many times you found yourself letting your thoughts get away from you and you had to rein them back in. You were never quite sure about how he really felt about you. He was kind, and flirtatious, but that was as far as it went. He had never tried to take things any farther and you respected that, but it didn’t stop you from still wanting a little bit more.

Despite the fact that you’d had feelings for him for a while, you were able to stay close friends with him without letting your emotions muddy the waters. The two of you spent a lot of time together, both with and without the club present. On more than one occasion you had let yourself into his dorm after a particularly rough day, just needing someone to sit and talk with until you felt alright again. He never made you feel like a burden about it, and he never mentioned it to the other guys, either, knowing that they wouldn’t leave you alone about it if he did.

But every time that you walked into his room, whether it was first thing in the morning, or incredibly late at night, he always had the same smile on his face whenever he saw that it was you. It was what made you comfortable enough to keep coming back.

“Hey, you alright?” he stood up off the bed and walked over to you.

You nodded, “All good. Just figured I’d pop in and say hi. They’re not done with my car yet.”

“Seriously?”

You chuckled, “Seriously. Maybe you should get out there and tell them to get their shit together.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Yea, that’ll go over real well.”

He stepped in for a hug but you held your hand up to stop him, “I’m disgusting. Just did five miles. Was hoping they’d be done with my car so I could just go right home and shower but now I just gotta wait and be gross,” you laughed and shook your head.

“Just use my shower,” he gestured towards his bathroom.

You shook your head, “No, that’s alright. They should be done soon.”

“C’mon, it’s fine. You got some shit here anyway. And besides,” he nudged your shoulder, “I don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gross.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “None of you boys should be criticizing anyone. But fine. Thank you.”

He grabbed a towel from his closet and tossed it to you, making you laugh as it landed on your back while you grabbed your spare set of sweatpants and one of his shirts. You reached over your shoulder to ball the towel up in your arms with the rest of the clothes. You turned back around and saw Kozik standing there, watching you from the doorway with a small hint of a smile on his face.

“Yea?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

You shrugged, “Just looked like you wanted to say something, that’s all.”

“Oh, uh, no,” he shook his head, “Just, there’s not a ton of hot water. So. Try not to take too long.”

You nodded, “Got it.”

You walked into the bathroom and lightly shut the door behind you. You blindly reached and turned the shower on before peeling the sweaty clothes off of your body and letting them drop to the floor. You reached your hand in to make sure that the water temperature was alright, and when it was you immediately stepped into the shower, letting the water wash over you. It flowed through your hair and down your back as you kept your eyes closed, facing the showerhead. For a moment you thought to yourself that it didn’t seem fair that Kozik had a showerhead with better water pressure in his tiny little clubhouse dorm than you had back at your apartment.

You turned around and opened your eyes to see what he had for soap or bodywash. However, when you leaned to reach for a bottle, a spider came creeping over the top of it. You screamed as you immediately jumped back out of the shower and booked it out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. It was a small miracle that you didn’t slip on the tile and crack your head open.

Kozik came bursting back into the room when he had heard you scream. His eyes continued to grow wider as he took in the sight of you. He had no idea what was wrong, though, and that was the only thing that stopped his eyes from lingering.

“What the hell is going on?” he quickly walked into the bathroom and grabbed the towel and draped it around your shoulders.

“I went to grab your bodywash and there was a fucking spider on the bottle!”

The tension instantly melted out of his body when he realized what had freaked you out so much, “A…spider? This,” he gestured to your body, “is over a spider?”

You shoved him, “Don’t be a dick!”

He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. I just, I didn’t think that spiders would bother you considering everything else you’ve gotten dragged into around here.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like them, I don’t trust them, I don’t want them anywhere near me.”

“Want me to go kill it so you can finish your shower?” he offered.

“You can kill it, but my shower is finished either way,” you shuddered, “I’m not going back in there.”

He chuckled and gave you a hug, “I’ll be right back.”

He walked into the bathroom and the first thing he did was shut the water off, something you hadn’t thought to do in the midst of freaking out. He pulled the curtain to the side and within moments you could hear him taking care of the issue. He flushed the spider down the drain before gathering up your clothes and bringing them back out to you. You had effectively wrapped the towel around yourself, no longer wearing it like a cloak. Heat was rising in your face as you took the small pile of clothes from him. Now that your initial wave of fear had subsided, you realized what position you had left yourself in with Kozik.

“Sorry about that,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“No need to be sorry,” he chuckled, “Sorry you didn’t get to finish your shower.”

There were a few beats of silence as the two of you stood there in front of each other. There were so many things that you wanted to say to him. You’d spent so much time trying to stifle your feelings and thoughts but with the way that he was looking at you, it was hard to have any self-control. His eyes traveled up and down your body and you could see it on his face that he was trying to fight the urge to say something.

“What’re you thinking?” you chanced asking him, hoping that he would say something so that you wouldn’t have to.

“You’re beautiful,” his voice had a touch of laughter to it, “I mean, you are all the time. But. Right now, something about—”

“Me being scared out of my mind?” you offered up with a laugh.

He smiled, shaking his head as he stepped in closer to you, “Maybe that’s what it is,” he reached forward and gently cupped your face in his hand. You felt your face get hot as you leaned into his touch. He traced his thumb along your cheekbone, “I’d gladly kiss you if it helped you be less scared,” he chuckled, but you could see it in his eyes that his words weren’t empty.

Your ears were burning as you smiled at him, “I mean, spiders are pretty terrifying. But you’re welcome to give it a shot.”

He laughed as he leaned in to kiss you, the clothes instantly falling from your hands. When his lips met yours the only thing you could think about was how you couldn’t believe that the two of you hadn’t done this sooner. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against him so that your chest pressed flush against his, the two of your bodies meshing together perfectly. You cupped his face in both your hands, desperate to keep his lips on yours for as long as possible. You could feel him smiling into your kiss and you had no choice but to return the gesture, both of you feeling how this was long overdue.

You finally pulled away, letting both of you catch your breath. Kozik didn’t let your body separate from his, though, as his arms remained snug around your waist.

You laughed, “You know what this means?”

“What?” he beamed at you.

“You’re on spider-killing duty for the foreseeable future.”

He laughed as he pulled you tighter to him, your head resting against his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, “That’s a small price to pay.”

[fukurodaze]

some days

pairing: post-timeskip! oikawa tooru x fem!reader genre: angst wc: 2.4k warnings: cursing, stress, anxiety, homesickness, insecurity requested by @dasighosamu​ <3: “oikawa video chatting regularly with his girlfriend that somehow convinced him they’re okay [...]”

a/n: i.. am.. so so so sorry this took so long... many of the negative feelings here are taken from my own personal experiences as well, so i’m very sorry if this seems a bit impersonal for some people, but i tried to make it feel as y/n-able as possible! enjoy!

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ for beta reading! love u :(

LISTEN TO: blue - taeyeon; through the night - iu

you feel it in your bones. you feel it rumble and twist and turn. some days you feel it more. some days you feel it less. you know what it is today. 

it’s so empty, you think, movements like a crack of sound in silence. you had woken up in the afternoon today, the room still dark yet covers already warm. oh, you feel disgusting.

the least you do is open the curtains, hoping to squeeze in some sunlight for the day you had almost missed. you remember, though, to wake up for today, because it’s saturday. you look forward to saturdays, actually, because it has in store one constant that you hold onto - facetiming your boyfriend, oikawa tooru, at 7pm.

it used to be everyday that you facetimed him, until careers advanced and work took up more and more space in lives. still, you would always watch his matches when they were televised (it was a hassle sometimes, though, to get through to argentinian television channels, but it was worth it) and he would text you good morning and goodnight in your timezone most days (it slips his mind sometimes, but you could never blame him; you like the texts anyways). and it’s okay, really, it’s okay that you don’t get to see him that often. it’s just that work gets a bit harsh sometimes and you live alone and most of your friends live quite a bit far from you and you feel like you’ve cried to them about tooru way too many times and-

okay, you are not okay. but you hold on. you try to hold on.

you get yourself an instant meal in the fridge, feeling well into the shitty weekend when you see the stack of dirty dishes in the sink. you wash them anyways, thinking that it might be a way for you to feel a little bit better. you don’t want to be irritable when you’re with tooru, because then he’ll just worry. he already worries enough about himself - the least you could do is smile. right?

it’s what you tell yourself as you slap on some skincare, hoping that the various products containing tea tree essence and papaya are enough to mask the layer of sleepless nights and early mornings on your face. it’s not like you’re afraid of him seeing you in your dejected state; it’s more like you wouldn’t want the only time you spend with him this week be a negative memory.

now, you settle on the carpeted floor of the living room, laptop placed on the coffee table between the couch and the tv you never really use anymore. you remember when tooru had bought you this apartment right before an off-season with promises of him visiting in the summer. he even insisted on that nice tv screen for netflix nights. 

but alone, you prefer a laptop; so you’re thinking of selling it, yet you don’t want to pass up on the chance that tooru might come back one summer.

eventually, the facetime on your laptop sounds its ringtone, and a smile grows on your face as quickly as you pick up the video call. 

"wait- can- can you hear me well?”

you purse your lips, your tired eyes seemingly so much more eager to stay open. you say, “yeah, i can hear you well. can you?”

he hums, and there’s a loving silence that ensues. you don’t really know what to do with your insides feeling all warm again, so you fold your legs to your chest and let out a light laugh. it’s him.

“wow,” you mumble through chuckles, “hi, tooru.”

“i missed you, pretty girl,” he coos. you see how tooru has his back against his headboard, one arm folded behind his head and the other holding his phone up. it’s seven in the morning there, you reckon, and he looks like he’d just showered. 

“i missed you too. just showered?”

your boyfriend nods, “woke up later than usual today, but it’s, like, hot outside even at six in the morning. or maybe i just sweat too much.”

you giggle, “here, it’s so cold already. i can’t even go anywhere without a sweater - i even sleep with socks these days.”

“are you sure your heater’s doing fine?”

“my heater’s almost on its highest setting. i’ve just been getting so cold lately? maybe i just hate winter...” you trail off as you hear your own stomach grumble. still hungry...? you mutter to yourself, standing up to get a little snack for yourself, “tooru, i’m getting a snack. just keep talking, though, i can hear you.”

tooru’s smile falters a bit when he hears of you getting cold. he knows you’ve never really minded winter, using the season as an opportunity to stack up on cozy clothing and coats. hell, he had heard you say once, during one autumn, that you were so excited for winter because “you could finally wear the hoodies and sweaters since you felt too warm for them even during autumn and spring.” back then, tooru had told you that you were just too warm of a person. 

but maybe he’s just thinking too much into it. he hasn’t been to japan in a long time, anyways. maybe it really is that cold.

you come back with some toast and a glass of water. a crisp, warm bite into the food makes you feel relieved. you tuck your hair behind your ears, putting your focus back on tooru. “so, how’s everything?”

“everything... is... a lot.” tooru makes his way off of the bed, telling you, “seeing you eat just makes me hungry, too. lemme get some food.” he brings his phone with him to the kitchen, propping it against a vase on his dining table, giving you a perfect view of the kitchen. 

“welcome to my cooking show!” he exclaims as he lets go of the phone. it falls immediately, of course, but he takes care in propping it against some more items. it works somehow.

“i just recently perfected my egg poaching technique,” tooru smirks as he takes two eggs from the fridge, “it’s kind of flawless, not gonna lie.”

“can i see?” 

he sets the eggs down on the countertop, making his way to his phone before pausing, “erm, due to camera placement issues and a shortage of hands, i am unable to give you a full view of my absolute skill. is that okay, baby?”

you nod, your lip protruding slightly in a quiet pout. tooru’s pointed it out before, but it seems like every time he calls you baby your body automatically responds with a little pout. he looks at you with calm eyes, “cute.”

as he makes his eggs, you let him go on about the people around his neighbourhood, the results of the ca san juan tryouts from last week, his new team members, and one restaurant he’s found around town. he tells you, “their food is just so good. i’ll take you there someday.”

your cheeks raise slightly at his last statement, “really? tell me more about it.”

“well, it’s a bit expensive, but so worth it. they sell japanese stuff, actually, and i seriously kid you not, it tastes exactly like food from home.”

home, huh? 

“maybe when i visit one day i can bring you some food from home, too.”

somehow, the mention of home stings a little bit tonight.

 it’s an off-day, off-night, off-week, you’ve told yourself, and now that the week is ending with a call from your boyfriend, you were positive that it was going to end on a high. here, you stand corrected, with your throat getting all tied up threatening hot tears from the corners of your eyes. you’ve made it this far in the week, why must you cry in front of tooru, of all people? 

you take a long gulp from your glass of water in an attempt to blink back your tears. you’re glad that tooru’s back is facing the camera as he takes out a plate to put his eggs on. 

you quiet down intensely, afraid that any word out of your mouth will come out as a choked sob. of course, tooru notices, whipping his head around with a faltering smile.

“y/n, are you alright-”

“um, tooru, i think my laptop’s running out of battery, so i’ll reconnect the call from my phone instead, yeah?”

tooru nods, and you hastily stand up, clicking blindly at what you thought was the red hang-up button. your legs carry you to the kitchen, a place where tooru can still hear you even after the both of you thought you had hung up, to get another glass of water. 

but your arms don’t go so far as to reach for the tap, and instead, they only hold onto the edge of the countertop, trembling lightly against the cold marble. 

“shit,” you curse, head hanging as tears flow down your cheeks in warm waterfalls with your breath unsteady, your neck heating up. you see how some teardrops make little puddles on the shiny countertop, and some are swept away when your hand flies over to rid them, swiping in quick motions, angry that your body betrayed you by crying.

“stop crying, goddamnit.” you mutter, “it’s going to be so obvious, and tooru’s just going to worry, and he’ll just find it a hassle to stay with you, and-” you can’t even continue your spoken train of thought when you choke on your own words, your legs not even enough to support you up. 

“what a shitty week...” you slide down to the floor, trying to steady your breath. you tell yourself to hurry up with this damned cry, as you told him you were going to call him again on your phone. maybe you could say it was the wifi. 

you look up, wondering why, why do i feel like this?

is it because you just miss him? is work just getting hectic? should you be going out more? but it’s cold... nothing’s been working out lately. it’s just become doubts on top of doubts and you don’t know where to stop.

on the other hand, tooru’s freezing up. he can still hear your sniffles from afar, and as he stares at the warm plate of poached eggs on toast, he wonders if it would be okay to call out to you. 

it’s not like this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry, because you two have seen each other in more ways than one. still, tooru feels his heart crumble at the fact that he had had absolutely no clue as to what you had been feeling all this time, whether it be just a week, a few days, or a few hours. he wants to call out to you, hug you tight, wipe your tears, do something to make you feel better. 

but tooru doesn’t really know how to make his way through this, seeing as the distance is too far for any physical comfort. he’s learned he’s not as good with comforting words as he is with flirting, but now that he doesn’t flirt with anyone other than you, he doesn’t know if he even is good with words at all. he thinks, if you were to be okay with him reaching out to you, why were you choking back your tears? why were you so quick to hide what you felt? why do you not want him to worry about you the same way you worry about him?

tooru likes to think things through, especially when he’s never felt so unprepared with you before, as he’d been used to resorting to physical comfort in the past. but in this moment, through all the doubts and negative thoughts, his mouth moves faster than his brain.

“y/n, i’m still here.”

in this moment, your breath hitches and you make the dreaded way back to your laptop, your eyes swollen and cheeks glossy. 

“y-you heard everything?” 

your boyfriend nods, “do... do you want to talk about it?”

you shrug, swallowing slowly. “i don’t know how to talk about it, really,” a shallow laugh falls from your lips, “some days- this week- it’s just not... it’s been low, for me.”

tooru’s chin leans patiently against his forearms, eyes focused on you. 

“oh god. i haven’t cried in months,” you exhale, “and it just happened to be in front of you. i probably look ugly, or something.”

your boyfriend shakes his head, “you and ugly are words that simply do not go together.”

“you can keep crying, if you want. i’ll be here for you.” he affirms, “we take care of each other at our lows, remember? no matter the distance.”

you sniffle a bit more, your sweater sleeve damp from your tears. his words are new, but it makes you feel much less alone. 

the call fades into you attempting to steady your breathing once more, and tooru reassuring you left and right. maybe it does feel nice, you begin to think, to have someone there with you. to know that they’ll care for you as much as you’ll care for them.

in the midst of your thoughts, tooru calls out, “y/n?”

you hum in response, and he continues, “i wasn’t supposed to tell you this, since it’s not final, but there’s a possibility that i’ve been selected to play for the argentinian national team in the olympics next year. in tokyo.”

you do a double take at him. “wait, you... in japan...?”

he loves seeing you smile like that. “i was called in a meeting yesterday. they were pretty positive about me being a starting setter, but, again, it’s not final.”

your shoulders drop a bit, “but there’s always a chance, right?”

“well, ‘not final’ is just their way of saying ‘don’t tell anyone yet’. and how could i not tell you?”

you giggle a little, “maybe if you come over i might have some use for this big ass tv you bought for me.”

tooru laughs, “i’m coming home, y/n.”

here comes your second wave of tears.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

You said to put a rebuke prompt in here sO what about a sickfic? Luke is sick and Reggie and Bobby try to take care of him but then Reggie gets sick and all that's left is a grumpy Bobby who is tired of their dumbassery

Sorry this took so long. I hope you like it!! My first try at rebuke, but hopefully not my last ;)

read on ao3 here!

--

The minute Bobby gets to school, he knows today’s going to be kind of a disaster.

His first clue? Luke’s not there yet. He’s not exactly late, and isn’t in any real danger of being so—it’s only 7:30, and the first bell doesn’t ring until 7:55—but if Bobby’s being honest, he can’t remember the last time Luke wasn’t early. Usually, by the time Bobby gets to school, Luke’s already bouncing around the halls somewhere, playing his guitar in the stairwell or pretending to flirt with girls outside the library or trying to break into Bobby’s locker because Bobby refuses to give Luke his combination.

Luke doesn’t like school, but he likes being at home even less. And at least at school, his friends are there.

His friends are there now—two of them at least—but Luke isn’t.

It just doesn’t bode well for things to come, in Bobby’s opinion.

“Hey,” Reggie says when he meets Bobby at his locker, blindly bumping Bobby’s fist as he glances up and down the hallway. “Luke’s not here yet?”

“Guess not.” Bobby shuts his locker and shoulders his backpack. “Alex still home sick?”

“Think so,” Reggie confirms with a nod. “He said on the phone last night he was gonna try to be back today for a Spanish test, but I don’t know, he sounded pretty rough.”

Bobby grimaces. “Better he stay home and not infect the rest of us. He can always retake a Spanish test.”

“Yeah, but you know Alex.” Reggie shrugs. “If he’s not back, can I come over tonight? Since we won’t rehearse, I mean, just—just to hang out?”

A smile pulls at Bobby’s lips as his stomach does a weird, not unpleasant, flip flop. “Yeah, man, of course you can. Luke too?”

Reggie grins. “Of course!”

Bobby nods and turns back to his locker, fiddling pointlessly with the lock so that Reggie won’t see him blushing.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Alex—he does, a lot—he just… likes Alex as a friend. And he likes Reggie… and Luke… more than that… or differently… or something.

It’s stupid, and hell if Bobby knows how to put the damn thing into words, but… he figures the more time he gets to spend with just Luke and Reggie, the better. Even if it means taking advantage of the few times Alex isn’t available to make plans.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Reggie and Bobby hang around his locker, talking about their gig coming up in a couple weeks and the math homework Bobby didn’t do and whether it’s likely for Bobby’s finicky TV to be working well enough for them to play Super Mario Bros. after school today.

At 7:52, just when they’re starting to consider giving up and going to class, Luke appears at his own locker, about halfway down the hall.

“Hey, there you are!” Reggie calls, bouncing over to him. “We thought you weren’t gonna show up today.”

Bobby follows, and the closer he gets to Luke, the more dread bubbles up in his stomach. Luke slumps against his locker, not even reacting to Reggie’s words. He looks pale and flushed at the same time, his nose and cheeks an alarming shade of cherry, and his hands tremble slightly as he tries to put his locker combination in.

Bobby stops short a good ten feet away as the pieces fall into place in his head, and before he can think of the right thing to say, what comes out is, “You look like shit.”

Luke’s response is a little delayed. When he does raise his eyes to Bobby, they’re glassy and dull, and his self-deprecating laugh and mumbled little, “Thanks, Bobs, that’s real nice,” come out so painfully hoarse that Bobby swears he feels his own throat sting in sympathy.

He takes another step back. Luke doesn’t just look terrible; he looks contagious.

Reggie, it seems, has no such reservations. He sidles right up to Luke and slings an arm around his shoulders; Luke immediately leans back into Reggie’s hold, his expression crumpling with relief like maybe he was having trouble holding up his weight on his own.

“Aw, Luke,” Reggie coos, rubbing Luke’s arm. “Did you catch Alex’s cold?”

“No,” Luke grumbles petulantly, and then contradicts himself by coughing into Reggie’s shoulder (Bobby flinches). “Maybe,” Luke amends. “But it’s Alex’s dumb saliva’s fault.”

Bobby’s stomach flips again. This time, it’s a little unpleasant. When have Luke and Alex been… sharing saliva?

“Well, Luke, bro, you shouldn’t have taken a sip of his drink when you knew he wasn’t feeling well,” Reggie chides, parental but for the most part unconcerned.

Luke pouts. “But he had a milkshake, and I couldn’t afford to get my own, and it seemed like a good idea in the moment, it was yummy!”

Relief surges through Bobby so intensely he almost feels faint with it—so Luke and Alex weren’t kissing. Okay. Good.

Not that he should have any say in what his friends do with their mouths on their own time, he just… he’d like to know about it ahead of time, if at all possible. Maybe be involved himself sometimes, that’d be nice.

Again. Stupid.

“Why are you even here?” Bobby asks, and it comes out harsher than he meant it to; Reggie and Luke both look up at him, frowning. He clears his throat and tries to soften his tone. “I mean. You should’ve stayed home, if you’re sick.”

Luke grimaces, and reluctantly pulls out of Reggie’s grip when the bell rings shrilly above them. “Mom wouldn’t let me,” he says with a wet sniff, yanking his locker open and grabbing a stack of books seemingly at random. “I didn’t have a fever, and I may have been known to fake a cold to get out of stuff once or twice… a month…” He shrugs, and drags a wrist under his nose. “Guess I wasn’t convincing enough this time.”

“This wasn’t convincing?” Bobby’s backed up another few feet, unable to take his eyes off Luke’s dripping nose, which he just wiped with his hand—God, who raised him? How and why in God’s green earth does Bobby ever find him attractive?

“In Mrs. P’s defense,” Reggie says cheerfully, “Luke’s really good at faking.”

Luke slams his locker closed. “Whatever, I’m fine. Let’s just get to class, Bobby. We’ll see you later, Reg.”

He starts, stumbling, down the hallway, toward the history class he and Bobby share. Bobby and Reggie exchange a look behind his back—Reggie’s is concerned, Bobby’s more than a little disgusted.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Reggie pleads. “Just until I see you guys at lunch?”

Bobby glances over at Luke, who’s paused a little ways down the hall to have a coughing fit into the crook of his arm—sleeveless, of course. “How close an eye are we talking?”

Reggie’s smile turns tolerant. “Please, Bobby? For me?”

Well, fuck, what is he supposed to say to that? He nods, stammers out a reply, and turns toward his classroom, just in time to see Luke careen forward with a spraying, uncovered sneeze.

Bobby shudders, hefts his backpack a little higher on his shoulder, and tries not to breathe.

“He better not get me sick,” he grumbles to himself, and goes to drag Luke into class.

***

They get about fifteen, twenty minutes in before Bobby starts to think, yeah, no, no way in hell this is gonna work.

Luke is struggling.

First of all, he can barely sit up straight and keep his eyes open, much less pay attention to the lecture, so Bobby highly doubts he’s learning anything. He sniffles more than breathes, coughs more than talks, and gets up out of his seat to get a tissue from the front of the room so often that their teacher Mrs. Carroll eventually just nods for him to take the whole box back to his desk.

Every time he sneezes, Bobby cringes and scoots his desk a few more inches away. Every time he coughs, Bobby sinks lower in his chair, trying to surreptitiously pull the collar of his hoodie over his mouth. Every time he blows his nose, and just leaves the dirty tissues sitting in a gross little pile on his desk, Bobby wonders how the fuck they’re even friends.

When the bell rings, Luke slumps back in his chair and coughs into a fresh wad of tissues for a full minute and a half, while their classmates file out of the room around them, giving Luke grossed-out looks as they pass.

Bobby doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed on Luke’s behalf, considering they’re totally justified in their disgust. Mrs. Carroll catches his eye from her desk at the front of the classroom, and before she can so much as mouth, Maybe you should take him to the nurse, Bobby nods and holds up a finger as if to say, No, yeah, I’m on it.

“Hey,” he says, kicking the leg of Luke’s chair. “Pack up your stuff, sicky, you’re going home.”

Luke frowns at him, tissues still held over his face, muffling his already stuffy protest. “What? No, I’m—”

“Shut up,” Bobby cuts him off. “I don’t care if you claim you’re fine, I don’t care if your mom will be pissed, you look and sound like shit, I’m taking you back to my place until someone can pick you up. No arguments, you hear me?”

Luke just looks at him for a moment, and Bobby worries he’s going to fight back again, but then something shifts in his expression, and he just looks so tired all of a sudden. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Yeah, okay, I—I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Bobby lets out a breath. “Good. Me too.”

It takes longer than it should to get Luke out of his seat and to the door, even after Bobby takes his books from him so that all Luke has to carry is his box of tissues. Mrs. Carroll writes them both hall passes, and doesn’t fight Bobby when he says he probably won’t be back for her government class in the afternoon.

They walk slowly down the school hallway, Luke leaning heavily into Bobby’s side so he doesn’t stumble. Bobby almost manages not to think about the germs Luke is almost definitely passing to him, because his own health doesn’t matter as much as Luke’s right now. Bobby’s worry for him is hotter, more present, in his chest than any anxiety or germaphobia.

And that worry only grows when they get to the nurse’s office and find Reggie sitting on a plastic-covered bed waiting for them.

“There you guys are!” he says cheerfully, grinning and swinging his legs like a kid. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d last the whole period.”

“The hell are you doing here?” Bobby asks as he guides Luke into a chair.

“Felt like I was gonna throw up,” Reggie explains, then gives Bobby an exaggerated wink he doesn’t understand.

“You did? Are you okay?”

Reggie’s brows knit together. “No—Bobby, that’s just what I told Miss Ellison so I could get out of English class. I wanted to meet you guys down here so I could go with you when you leave.”

Bobby frowns. There’s a lot going on today, he doesn’t have a whole lot of brainpower to spend on Reggie’s riddles. And he’s definitely missing something here.

Apparently, Luke is just as confused. “Wait,” he croaks, sniffling and slumped over in his chair. “You’re sick, too, Reg?”

Reggie rolls his eyes. “No, Luke, not really. I just pretended so that I could go home with you guys. You are going home, right?”

“Yeah, he barely lasted one class, he’s not staying the whole day,” Bobby says, ignoring the petulant glare Luke shoots him.

“Then I’m going with you.” Reggie glances nervously between them. “Unless… you don’t want me to?”

“No,” Luke says quickly. “No, I want both of you. Please.”

Reggie grins. Bobby’s stomach flips.

“Fine, I guess we’re all sick, then,” he grumbles, ducking his head to hide his blush, and points to Luke and Reggie each in turn. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

It’s unfairly easy for Bobby to convince the nurse to let him drive Luke and Reggie home, since they’re both “so sick” (he doesn’t even have to pretend to be sick himself. The nurse takes one look at Luke and agrees to let Bobby go with him for no reason, if only to get his germ-ridden friend off school property).

It’s a little less easy to call Emily Patterson at work and explain to her that he’s Luke’s friend, no, ma’am, he’s really sick, I don’t mind taking him back to my house until you get off work, yes, ma’am, I’ll make sure he gets all his homework, etc, etc, etc.

Reggie’s parents don’t even pick up. Bobby has a fake conversation with “Reggie’s dad” just so he can tell the nurse with some level of confidence that Reggie’s been given permission to go home with him, too. He’s not sure she believes him. He doesn’t think she cares.

“You’re gonna get sick,” Bobby says when he returns to find Luke lying on the bed with his eyes closed, head in Reggie’s lap, sniffling into Reggie’s pant leg while Reggie strokes his hair back out of his face.

“I think he’s got a fever now,” he says, which is not at all a response to what Bobby said. “Are we ready to go?”

Bobby gives a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

***

As Luke gets worse, he also gets clingier. Which, really, Bobby should’ve expected. It’s one thing in the car, where Bobby can roll the windows down and focus on driving while Luke stretches out all over Reggie in the backseat, coughing and sniffling and ignoring Bobby whenever he reminds him to cover his damn mouth.

Once they get back to his house, though, Bobby washes his hands about fifteen times in a row, then heads into the studio with the intention of recommending that Reggie do the same, only to find Reggie and Luke curled up on the pull-out couch together, fast asleep.

For a minute or two, Bobby just stands there, watching them. Both of them idiots, one of them disgusting, and yet… god, he loves both of them so much. How fucking stupid is that?

Luke’s gonna get Reggie sick, if he hasn’t already; that’s just an inevitability at this point. And then one or both of them is going to get Bobby sick, and it’s going to suck, because colds always hit Bobby super hard for no good reason, which is why he tries so hard to avoid catching them.

But a few days of misery is worth it, he guesses, if he can spend today taking Luke’s temperature and rubbing his back and forcing Vitamin C on both him and Reggie until they’re both sick of him.

And at least, whatever happens, he can blame this whole thing on Alex.

--

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[your-wings-of-freedom]

Thunderstorms (Reiner x Reader)

Authors Note: First AoT & Reiner fic! I am always generally confused about the geographic layout of things so just overlook the details that doesn’t line up with the anime. Pretend it’s okay. Thx. With my Reiner, we pretend he’s not the armored titan (shh). I have no idea where I’m going with most of my fics. I write blindly and it ends up with verbal diarrhea. I’m sorry if nothing makes sense. But if you’re still following me after my first fic, then you’ve signed up for my chaotic writing and I make no further apologies. Also, I never edit any of my stuff so expect a lot of errors. If it’s out of character, honestly - let me know! I feel like I’ve not written him well, to be honest. He’s a lot harder to write than I thought! Warnings: None. First fic though so - goodluck reading it! Words: 3,168

The weather forced everyone to take cover in one of their many base camp buildings set up in areas outside the walls. Whilst it wasn’t ideal when they were outside of the walls and in Titan territory, they really had no choice. With the heavy torrent of rain and the darkened sky, their vision was limited – and Levi had experienced such a situation before and it didn’t bode well. Had his rage not fueled him at the time, he probably wouldn’t have made it. It was not something he was putting his soldiers at risk. 

Hence why they rode a little further and took cover the evening. It was just a basic set up, enough to house them to give enough rest; a kitchen area, dining area and two rooms – usually set up for medical attention and the other for supplies. In these situations, the dining tables are moved to sit against the wall so the group can make camp for the night on the floor. Usually it wasn’t as disgusting as it sounded because Levi would have had everyone clean the area top to bottom. But some key factors prevented Levi from putting his squad to work; they were in titan territory, there were no cleaning supplies for such a trivial task – except, perhaps medical supplies, but their priority lied with the priority of his soldiers.

Whilst there wasn’t a stable set up, there was something similar to a ‘supply shed’, so everyone placed their horses in there, tying them up to whatever they could find and improvised a stable with what they had, before heading inside the building opposite. 

You, and your team mates stood around in the room, shivering slightly from the cold as the Captain addressed the group. “I know our current condition is not ideal, but we’ve been through worse. This is titan territory and we’re currently sitting ducks, but the weather will likely hold the titans off. It’s more risky riding out in the weather like this. I suggest you get whatever sleep you can while you can. As soon as the rain lets up, we’ll make continue onwards. I can’t say whether it’ll be an hour, a few hours, or until the morning. Everyone move the tables against the wall and make do on the floor.” “Sir!” voices called out in unison as they accepted their last order before bunkering down for the evening. There didn’t seem any point in having someone as spotter since you couldn’t see past the pelting rain. Levi, however, sat himself near the window regardless. The man never slept. The boys, mostly Reiner, helped move the tables to the side while the others chose their spots to rest for the evening. You watched as Mikasa, Armin and Eren set up together in their little group. It came as no surprise to you. It was at that point you could hear the sound of thunder rumbling. Your eyes widened a little in fear, you could feel your heart beginning to beat in a fast rhythm. You looked around for a safe place to set up and found an area little off to the side in a corner, away from everyone. The room murmured with hushed tones as people were mindful to keep their voices down for those who want to rest. You sat with your back against the wall, knees pulled up to your chest and arms wrapped around your legs. Your eyes glancing around the room, trying to focus on your teammates rather than the sound of the thunder that seemed to drawing closer as the rumblings became louder. Mikasa, Eren and Armin were lying on their stomachs, facing each other and just talking. Armin was smiling, Eren was giving a small smile, Mikasa’s eyes had softened, so they must have been talking about something nicer than the subject of Titan’s and future missions. Sasha and Connie and Jean seemed to be resting together, hoping to catch a few moments of precious sleep. You weren’t going to be getting any sleep soon. Or at all. You never did sleep when thunderstorms happened. You knew it stemmed from your childhood, from when your parents weren’t around when you were little, and you had to deal with the loud noise by yourself.

 Reiner and Bertholdt were finishing up moving the last of the tables. They didn’t really need to as there were already plenty of space to accommodate everyone, supposedly they were too busy quietly talking to realise. They were always together, those two. You never minded. But sometimes, just sometimes, it would have been nice to be able to speak to Reiner alone. In those times, it felt awkward to have Bertholdt there, and you can see that Bertholdt seem to feel uncomfortable being there too. But he never seemed to take the initiative to go and do something to leave you and Reiner alone. You never resented him for it. He treated you like a friend so you can hardly feel any resentment toward him for it. He seemed to have a shy streak to him, so perhaps it was that? Who knew. A loud clap of thunder had you flinching violently, and a strangled whimper-ish sound caught in your throat as you tightly shut your eyes, willing for the sounds to stop, quickly catching Reiner’s attention as he glanced over to the person he had come to care about in a much different way to how he cares about his comrades. “Hey Y/N. You lonely over there? Come and sit with us.” Reiner whispered loudly enough to be heard by you but not enough to disturb others. You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. The fear trapped your words and you were desperately trying to make the sounds stop. “Are they asleep?” Bertholdt asked as he glanced over at your curled form, looking as though you fell asleep sitting up, your head ducked so your features were half-hidden. “No, I don’t think so.” Reiner murmured, brows narrowing in concern. “Hang on.” He quickly excused himself as he stood up from where he was sitting with Bertholdt.

 He crouched down in front of you, “Hey. You alright?” “Yeah.” But the waver in your whispered tone betrayed you. “Really?” Yeah, Reiner was not at all convinced by your answer. Why would he be? He’s seen you sad, he’s seen you angry, he’s seen you happy… but he’s not seen you like this before. “Seriously, Y/N. What’s going on?” you didn’t have verbally answer. The sound of a loud crack of thunder gave away what was ailing you right now. You tried to muffle your fear but with Reiner being so close to you, it was hard to get away with it. He was quick to put two and two together. Particularly when your hands flung up to grip the sides of your head. You hated this. How pathetic you must look to the one you seemed to like and, perhaps, even found yourself flirting with. “You’re scared of the thunder?” You didn’t answer. God, you couldn’t answer. You couldn’t even look at him. You were rendered weak. Pathetic. You had no right being in the Scouts, let alone riding as Levi’s second team if you were scared of something so trivial such as thunderstorms. He seemed to have picked up on your distress. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re all allowed to be afraid of something you know.” Another loud crack of thunder that had the windows shaking, caused you to cry out in pure fear and lunge at Reiner. You heard him grunt in surprise, body tensing because he hadn’t expected to suddenly be holding you in his arms. The shock wore off as quickly as it came, and he wrapped his arms around you without another moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t the cold that had you shivering, it was the fear that had you trembling. You gripped the front of his damp shirt in the balls of your fists, burying your face in his chest. If there was ever a time to humiliate yourself, tonight was the night. You knew those who were still awake were watching, particularly when that last cry tore from your throat before you could even muffle it. Even Levi glanced over from watching the rain outside with his stoic expression. He didn’t say anything, nor did his features give anything away. Whatever it was, Reiner seemed to have it under control, there was no need for Levi to intervene unless a matter was brought to Levi’s attention.

 The tips of Reiner’s ears were red from being flustered at having you throw yourself at him the way you did. He had been trying to summon the courage to ask you out for weeks now but never seemed brave enough to do so. And when an opportunity arose like this, for him to step up, he still hadn’t a clue what to do. Perhaps if it was anybody else, it might have been different. He can act as that ‘big brother, pat-on-the-head, you’ll be alright kiddo’ guy. But with you – no. He really wanted to be there for you, he really wanted to make an effort, get you to notice him – particularly when he’s struggled to open up and say things. He’s low-key hoping you would pick up on the subtle hints he’s dropped. But you hadn’t. Either you weren’t interested or you were completely oblivious. If it were the latter, then it only makes Reiner fall in love with you even more; you’re still able to carry such an innocence about you in this grim world. It’s an adorable trait.

 Selfishly not wasting an opportunity, and to also generally help you too, he did what he thought was best, and he hoped he wasn’t overstepping the line by doing so. Holding you a little tighter, he maneuvered himself in two swift movements so that he was the one with his back to the wall, though his torso twisted to the right because you were still clinging to him like a frightened child. With his frame, it helped shield you from curious eyes and grant you that small piece of privacy. His arm came around your lower waist to anchor you to his side, his other arm dangling off the top of his bent leg. He glanced over at Bertholdt who was watching curiously and helplessly, Reiner simply gave him a nod of acknowledgement, hoping his friend would get the message that Reiner might not be moving from this position tonight. As uncomfortable as it might be, the aches and pains would be worth it if it meant being able to hold you, though preferably if it wasn’t under such conditions as this. Even with Reiner beside you, protectively holding you into his side, you still trembled with fear from the sound above you. Reiner eased the loneliness you felt, but he couldn’t ease the sound. The thunder was right above them, there was no reprieve between the loud claps and cracks, it was a constant low rumble threatening to erupt in a loud crack above them.

 Whenever it did, your breathing hitched in your throat and you pressed yourself harder into his side. “Hey, it’s alright. I got you, okay? ‘M right here. It can’t hurt you. It’s just noise. That’s all it is. Just noise.” Reiners voice was enough to calm you down from the hysteria rising in your chest, ready to break forth into a panic attack. He seemed to have realized this when you weren’t trembling as violently as you had been before. He couldn’t seem to calm you down by physically reassuring you, so perhaps he could distract you by talking? It would seem you wouldn’t be getting any sleep regardless. “Why are you so afraid of thunder?” He did his best to ensure that his tone didn’t come across as ridiculing or patronizing; again, he really didn’t want to mess up this opportunity to form a deeper connection with you. Your hands still gripped your head, palms covering your ears in an attempt to block out the thundering sound, but your attempts were futile. But Reiner’s voice made its way through the sound you found frightful of the night, and it pulled you from that scared place. “Um…” you started, voice wavering as though you were on the verge of tears. “I-I just remember being scared one night… and no one was around… I don’t know where my parents were… and… I was just so scared… I didn’t know… I remember getting out of bed to go look for them, calling out to them… but the thunder got louder and louder until …” You recalled that night quite clearly. You were scared of the loud rumblings. So you got out of bed to find your parents and as you were helplessly calling out to them, a loud crack of thunder had you screaming and running for a safe place to hide – which ended up being closed in the pantry. You sat there, knees drawn up, small fingers gripping your hair as you cried helplessly. You just wanted the noise to stop. You just wanted your parents.

“…I guess it just never went away? … Pathetic isn’t it?” Reiner listened quietly, his heart sinking a little at imagining how scared you must have been at such a young age. The thunder never scared him, but even as a kid, he was still scared of things. And he stood by what he told you earlier, “No, it’s not. We’re all afraid of something. If it’s not these titans, then it’s something else. It’s alright though. It’s what it means to be human.” “But thunder? Of all things?” “Hey, I’m afraid of bugs so…” He felt you smile against him and then heard a faint little laugh. His heart skipped a beat hearing this, trying not to smile knowing he made you smile and laugh. Proud of himself that he was able to do so considering you looked and sounded ready to breakdown at any given moment. “Reiner?” Oh god, the sound of his name falling from your lips – ‘No. Stop it.’ “Yeah?” “Are you really afraid of bugs?” “No… Spiders though… Anything that’s got more than four legs.” Again, he heard that little laugh emit from your lips. He longed to glance down and see you smile and laugh again, but with your head ducked out of his view, he couldn’t see a damn thing. But, as fate would have it, the loud crack of thunder had the windows rattling violently, even disturbing those that were sleeping. You couldn’t take it anymore, and in that moment of pure fear, you broke. The scared cry of a little girl muffled behind hands that were trying to hold back the sobs. Your eyes tightly closed as you do your best from breaking down any further. Your Captain’s awake and on the other side of the goddamn it! But here you are, trembling violently and crying out for the man sitting beside you, “Reiner!” it was a helpless cry, one that actually really tugged painfully at his heartstrings. “I’m here.” He murmured as the hand that had been resting on his knee came over and guided your head down onto his chest. Immediately you could hear the steady sound of his heartbeat and your eyes flung open, the couple of tears you were holding in quietly escaping but nothing more. The violent trembling ceased to a mere shiver, but that was something Reiner couldn’t fully help with. He took most of the struggle away already. His other hand wrapped around the curve of your waist as he continued to hold you. Your small banter aside, he’s just only now realizing the seriousness of your fear of thunderstorms. Every single person in this room had a trauma of some sort; whether it related back to their childhood, or as of recent. Your trauma had become apparent to him, and he wished he knew sooner. He could have kept an eye on you as soon as the thunder began rumbling from a distance. He could have done something to prevent you from curling into a frightened ball, thinking you had to suffer through this alone despite being in a room full of people that are supposed to have your back; not just on the field, but off the field too. They weren’t just colleagues. They were comrades. Brothers-in-arms. Family. “If there’s ever another thunderstorm. You come to me, alright? ‘M not letting you go through this alone. Don’t care what time of the night it is, you come to me. Got it?” “Yeah, promise.” You murmured, your muscles already beginning to relax against his form. “Thank you Reiner. For everything.” “Don’t sweat it.” Had it not been for your Captain sitting across on the other side of the room, you would have leaned up and given Reiner a kiss on the cheek. Perhaps it was just as well because you would have put that poor boy in such a flustered state. For now, you were content where you were. You felt Reiner shift slightly so he could, at the very least, get semi-comfortable for the rest of the evening. His hand still remained clasped over the side of your head, holding you to his chest in an attempt to keep you grounded and block out the rumbling sound outside. His thumb absent-mindedly stroking your temple (honestly, he probably doesn’t realise he’s even doing this); between his firm hold, gentle caress, steady heart beat and the even rise and fall of his chest, you were easily lulled to sleep. This might have been the first time in over a decade or two that you managed to sleep through a thunderstorm. Reiner couldn’t sleep. How could he? He had you cradled against him! And, oh, how gloriously right it felt. He was too nervous to move. What if he woke you? He was even more nervous that his heart would start beating wildly in his chest and disturb you, so he forced himself to keep calm with deep, steady breaths and hope that would keep his heart beat at a normal, steady pace. Eventually, though, he must have succumbed to sleep, because Bertholdt found you both asleep together; you, curled up in his side, basically using his chest as a pillow, and him still holding you protectively against him – even in his sleep. It seemed almost cruel to disturb you both. But the rain let up, the sun is out, it’s best they move. There’ll be other moments like this to look forward to. At least, you hope so. You hoped this wasn’t just a ‘pity one-night-stand’ kind of thing. Not that you knew this, but for Reiner it certainly wasn’t. He said you weren’t alone, and he meant it. You had him. So long as you want him by your side, he’ll always be there. He’s got your back. Just come to him. Whatever you need, he’s there. | Tags: @commanderserwin

[bbykpoper]

𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 🦋

Inspired by this post 🌼

Pairing: swimcoach!seonghwa x artist!reader

Warning: sexual content further in the story, read at your own discretion!

Index: Jongho // Hongjoong // San // Yunho // Wooyoung // Mingi // Yeosang

･*:༅

The canvas was covered in smudges of blue paint as you stared at it from your spot on the floor. You were disgusted by your work, by the mere atempt at the whole thing. Your whole being screamed ‘lack-of-inspiration’ and you were fed up with this shit you were trying to achieve. A groan left your lips as your phone started to ring somewhere in the background.

“Hello?” You sounded much more composed than you actually were, seeing as anger was slowly taking over you. 

“Hey, bad time?” The soft voice of your friend came through the phone.

“I don’t know...” You sighed, placing your paint brush on the ground. “I’m not exactly going anywhere with my work.” You looked up your canvas but disregarded it the moment you saw the frustration reflected on it. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I need a favour.” You could hear the stress in his voice. “I forgot my swim bag at home...”

“How could you forget your swim bag?” You stood up and went over to the room next to yours and that’s when you noticed it. “You haven’t slept at home have you?”

“Maybe.” A silence passed over the speaker. “Can you bring it over please? I’m pretty sure Park will have my head either way, but I’d at least like to be prepared.”

“Sure Chan, but don’t come crying when JIhyo comes after you.” You giggled, grabbing the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Dang, this is heavy.”

“Sorry again.” He spoke now guilt lacing his words.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re friends. And I do need a break from just blindly throwing paint on my canvases.” You giggled along with him. “I’ll be over in an hour or so. I hope Park doesn’t kill you by then.”

“So do I.”

Your steps were quick down the stairs of your loft appartment which led to the small florist shop underneath it. You passed by Yeosang who greeted you with a smile and grabbed the pair of keys from the back room. Jihyo was currently serving a customer as you hurriedly ran past them.

“I’m borrowing your car for a short while.” 

“Did Chan forget something again?” She asked while she prepared the bouquet for the customer.

“His swim bag.” And you left the store.

You’ve lived with your two best friends, the very scary yet beautiful florist Park Jihyo and forgetful playboy Bang Chan, since freshman year of college. You guys were well adults now, doing your own thing but still living together above Jihyo’s flower shop. Chan worked as an assistant swim coach at the local college swim team and he enjoyed his job drilling those poor students the best he could. Jihyo opened her flower shop during her last year of college and has been working there with Yeosang ever since. And you? You held art exhibitions from time to time, selling some paintings here and there. 

The ride to the local college was uneventful as you parked the car and made your way towards the pool. Students stood around, some going to class, some studying in the soft breeze and others just casually chatting with each other. With a small smile you entered the pool area, squeaking in surprise when a group of girls shuffled passed you annoyed.

“Are you okay?” A voice spoke, pulling you out of the way so the girls wouldn’t stomp all over you. “Sorry about them, they get angry when I tell them to leave practice so that the boys can focus.”

“It’s okay. They surprised me is all.” You sighed, looking up at the blond man who helped you out. “Thanks Park.” You beamed up at him.

Park Seonghwa was the main coach for the college swim team and technically Chan’s boss. He was also friends with Yeosang and you’ve known him since college. He was a nice guy with you, sometimes holding danger in his eyes but overall he was just soft with you.

“What brings you here?” He asked as you two entered towards the pools.

“Chan forgot his swim bag.” You looked at the unamused expression Seonghwa had on his face from the corner of your eye and only giggled now fully facing him. “Don’t be too harsh on him. He’ll get a much more doom filled talk when he comes back home from Jihyo.”

“I sure do hope so. He’s really become irresponsible as of lately.” The blond muttered.

“He’s just going through some stuff.” You sighed noticing Chan sitting on the bleachers, his mind wandering. “I’ll just give him the bag and leave. I won’t hold up practice for you guys.”

You ran over to your friend, flicking his fore head to bring him back to the land of the living. He looked up at you and smiled, taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it on the ground. He pulled out a pack of baby wipes and started gently rubbing off some paint you had on your cheek.

“You have baby wipes?” You asked, closing your eye so he doesn’t peck it out.

“Of course! I have to take care of my struggling artist.” He giggled with you. “Jihyo has some too in her bag for these exact reasons.”

“Thanks.” You nodded your head as Seonghwa joined you two.

“Get dressed Bang, I’m gonna need your help today more than so.” He said, his eyes not amused by the exchange of affection you two displayed.

“Yes sir!” He said and got up to go. “Thanks for bringing this over y/n.” 

“No problem!” You yelled out after him as he waved goodbye to you.

“Are you guys like dating yet or not?” Seonghwa muttered out lowly but you still caugh on.

“You know Chan and I are just roommates. And he has this undying crush on Jihyo not me.” You sighed looking after his frame. “It’s sad that she now has a boyfrined and he’s alone, but at the same time it’s his own fault for not saying something to her on time.” You looked over at Seonghwa and shrugged your shoulders. “Love’s harsh in that way I guess.”

You turned to leave so that you won’t bother their job anymore and noticed how the boys in the pool looked to be having fun as they splashed each other. It made you smile when Seonghwa blew his whistle fiercly telling them to do a few laps to warm up. That whole picture gave you an idea but you couldn’t exactly place your finger on it. 

Something was missing.

“Good luck Park.” You waved him goodbye and left.

･*:༅

Waiting in line for coffee at Sugarberry’s you and Jihyo chatted along your mind wandering a bit. You were scared for the upcoming days because you had a gallery show in about two months but only had half of the pieces done. 

“You’re still struggling with your art?” Jihyo asks as she pays for your coffee.

“Yeah. I can’t seem to find inspiration anywhere...” You sigh and give her a thanks for your coffee. “I don’t even know where to look.”

“Well, the bookshop down the street has something like a poetry night. Maybe you’ll get inspired by some words?” 

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“What’s not a bad idea?” Chan suddenly grabbed you both by the shoulder, pulling you in for a bear hug.

“Poetry night.” Jihyo answered with a huff.

“Sounds boring.”

“I may find my inspiration there.” You giggled out. “Wanna come with?”

“Sorry y/n, but Daniel is coming back from his business trip so I’m going over to his house.” Jihyo apologised and you saw Chan’s mood darken a bit.

“What about you Chan?” 

“Poetry ain’t for me.” He simply stated. 

“Aww, I guess I’ll go alone.” You sighed trying to get the two with your puppy eyes. “Not working?”

“No, sorry.” Both answered.

From the corner of your eye you saw something blue fluttering around and your friends also turned to look at you at the same time. They followed your gaze and were also mesmerized with the creature floating around you suddenly.

“A blue butterfly?” You whispered out the quesiton as it landed on your head. “And it landed on me!”

“I’ve never seen a blue one before.” Jihyo commented.

“Where’d you come from little guy?” Chan brought his face close to your head.

“You’ll scare the butterfly away.” The waitress laughed as she came over to you three. “It’s a rare sight. Blue ones aren’t that common.”

“You know, they say that if you wish upon one it may come true.” She said with a smile. “You better make a wish before it flies off.”

As she left you looked up at the winged creature on your bangs and smiled, whispering out a small wish. 

I wish to find inspiration again.

The butterfly flewed off in the direction of the exit of the outside terace of the caffe and you noticed Seonghwa walking in with two other boys. His eyes caught yours and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to see you all together. The small creature circled the blond man and disappeared into the skies. And in that moment it clicked to you. The inspiration was there for you all the time. 

It was in Park Seonghwa.

“I see you still like Irish coffee.” He chuckled at your half dazed gaze at him.

“I haven’t stopped.” You laughed as his friends entered the shop. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” He stopped in his tracks.

“This may sound weird, but bear with me for a moment.” You sighed as your friends walked up a bit so they could let you talk to him in private. “I want to draw you, but like would you be willing to let me draw you?”

“I know it’s a weird request, but I finally found my inspiration in you.” You blushed at the last bit. “And I’d like to explore it fully if you’ll let me.”

“To draw me?” He thought for a second, his eyes following your every reaction. It was fascinating to him how you still looked on at him in wonder, since college to now. “Why not? I think It will be fun.”

“Really?” You were surprised at the answer.

“Yeah.” He smiled at your happy expression.

“Awesome!” You exclaimed. “You know where we live right?”

“Yeah, I took Chan home enough after drunken nights to know.” He laughed out. “Does Wednesday sound good?” 

“Yeah. Come by whenever you’re free.” You said excited and jumped over to your friends. “Oh and Seonghwa?” He looked after you. It was the first time since college that you said his name. “Thanks.”

･*:༅

A sharp knock on your front door got you to your feet from your position and you went to open it, revealing a cool looking Seonghwa. He was neatly dressed in a jumper and some washed out jeans, his hair still a bit wet from his job. You let him in with a smile and he placed his shoes by yours, entering the small appartment.

He noticed how the living room was cozy with a simple couch, a few swinging chairs hanging off the ceilings and flowers scattered around. The kitchen was close by warm as ever and four more doors decorated the walls. He noticed how every door was painted over except for one.

“Interesting doors.” He said observing them.

“Right?” You giggled. “When we first moved in Jihyo had this idea for me to paint the doors of our rooms with something that represents each of us. That’s why her door has so much flowers, Chan’s has the coast of Australia and if you look closely I tried painting him on a surfboard but failed miserably, and my door has the view of the Eifel tower because I feel like that’s something every artist needs.” You shrugged your shoulders and led him into your room.

Your canvas and paints have been prepared neatly in front of your bed and Seonghwa took notice just how artistic your room was. Especially the floor with all the paint splotches covering it.

“Ignore the floor.” You said as you noticed him looking at it. “I tried scrubbing it off but it didn’t exactly work so I just gave up.”

“Nah, I think it’s kind of cool. It gives this room your personal touch.” He laughed and went over to sit on your bed. “So how do you want me?”

“Um well, can you lay on the bed? But like sideways. Propt by your elbow. Maybe one leg up too.” You went over to position him as you thought right and Seonghwa felt his breath hitch when you went to touch his shoulder. 

It was a feather touch, just enough to let his jumper slide off his shoulder but it got him all hot and bothered. You were so focused that you didn’t pay attention to any of his expressions while you were this close to him, only looking up when you went back to your canvas.

“This is perfect.” You said with a smile. “I’ll just sketch this out today.”

As you said that you plopped a blueberry from your bedside table into your mouth and went on to your work. The man just observed you and enjoyed this silence which was much needed after a long work day.

The hours passed and you noticed that Seonghwa was eyeing the bowl of blueberries on your table. You laughed out loud when you caught his off guard as you threw one at him.

“If you want some just take them.” You said and handed him the bowl. “I don’t bite if you want some.”

As Seonghwa took the bowl your whole perspective changed and it was then that something hit your heartstrings like a truck.

“Keep the bowl.” Is all you said and rearranged your sketch.

“You like blueberries?” He asked, filling the room with his deep voice.

“They’re my focus berries.” You answered laughing along with him at your words. “They help me focus.”

The comfortable silence which filled the room coated your being with warmth as you continued to do an outline. Chan came home not long after and greeted you both, but locked himself in his room and you sighed. 

“Is he okay?” Seonghwa asked.

“He will be.” You shrugged your shoulders and looked over at the time, jumping to your feet and startling the man. “Oh no, I’ll be late.”

And you remembered he was still in the room with you and you blushed in embarrassement with everything.

“I wanted to go to the poetry night at the bookshop and it’s starting soon.” You said with a small head scratch. “I hope you don’t mind if I cut our session here.”

“Not at all.” He said sitting up and watching you grab a jacket and some stuff so you can leave. “Would you mind if I tag along?”

･*:༅

“That was so beautiful.” You whispered out as the poetry night came to an end. “Those romance poems really have my hands tingling. I can’t wait to get back and start painting.” You sighed in content, finally coming back with a new found inspiration. “Jihyo was right, I needed this.”

“I’m glad.” Seonghwa stated as he walked beside you.

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that I want to paint you.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Same time next week?”

“Sure.” 

You walked up the steps to your appartment and went back into your room, getting a new canvas out and happily getting lost in your thing. The days passed and so did a month, the painting of Seonghwa almost finished. You guy became much closer friends over this period and he was actually amazed at how well you drew. Today was the last day of working on his painting and just as you finished, you took the canvas to the kitchen so it could dry. 

“We’re done.” You said as you went to get your brushes.

“Awesome, can I see it?” He asked.

“Nope. You have to come to my gallery show to see it!” You excitedly waved one of your brushes and it sploshed some blue paint onto his face. You snorted out a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay.” He looked next to him and quickly took a brush and placed a large dot of black on your own cheek. “Now we’re even.” 

The huff of surprise you let out was followed by a giggle and a battle of paint broke out between you two. Even one of your blank canvases was now fully covered in greens, bluess, reds and some whites. Seonghwa splashed some paint on your uncovered back and the play time stopped.

“Seonghwa! How will I wash this off now?” You laughed thinking how Chan was out for the night and Jihyo was spending the weekend with her boyfriend.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He laughed along going to the bathroom.

You followed after him, moving your hair from the way so he could easily access your back. As you did, the strap of your shirt fell off your shoulder and it had the blond man gulping with nerves. He was very gentle in rubbing off the paint, easily cleaning it from your skin. On the other hand, you were blushing like crazy, heat spreading through your body.

“Hey.” He whispered out. “Why were you so scared of me in college? Whenever I hung out with Chan you’d run away from me.”

His touch made you shiver and you know he noticed. 

“I wasn’t scared.” You whispered back. “I was just shy. I had this huge crush on you but didn’t act on it because I thought you didn’t like me like that...” You sighed. “I still do.”

You felt the feathery kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“There was a whole magnificent soul burning brightly behind her shy.” 

The whisper was close to your ear and you turned around, your heart hammering away in your ribcage. His eyes were tender, but there was hidden lust in them, something you didn’t notice before. Even though he had it all the while while looking at you. 

“Have you ever wondered why I never had a girlfriend throughout college? Or even now?” His fingers travelled down your back, the touch leaving fire in it’s wake.

“Rumors were that you were a playboy.��

“I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups, but only because I couldn’t have the one girl I really wanted.” 

“You really wanted to have sex with me?” You turned around, raising your eyebrow. “I’m not the type to do this one night.”

“I know, and I really don’t want to.” He came closer to you now, your noses touching. “I want to fuck you everyday, the whole day.” His breath faned over your face. “How does that sounds?”

“Tempting.” You whispered back. “But we’re covered in paint.”

“A minor set back which can be washed off.” He chuckled, pulling you even closer than before, his hands landing on your hips. “Care to join.”

In slow motion his hands brushed against your skin, pulling your shirt over your head. His hands made their way behind your back and climbed up to reach your bram skillfully unhooking it, all while not breaking eye contact with you. The minute his breath hit your neck, you tugged on his shirt, his smirk striking as he stepped back to take it off.

“You enjoying the view baby?” 

“Are you?” With a strong tug you unbuckled his belt.

“Well look who’s been working out.” He laughed, grabbing the waistband of your jeans. “You’ll have to slow down a bit baby, we still have some paint to wash off.”

Soon enough you were both standing in the shower, the hot water pooling by your legs in a specter of colours. He kissed along your jaw, his hot kisses left stings on your body as the electricity transferred from his mouth to your skin. Your shoulders were now stained blue and purple, the bulge which was his dick now struggling against your ass. You moaned and whimpered at the same time when his hands wandered down your body towards your folds, that ticklish feeling becoming stronger as he teased your clit. 

“God, I can’t take it anymore y/n.” He breathed out as he pressed you closer to him, his hardness growing even more. “I need you.” He mumbled into your ear. “I want you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Your hazed eyes looked back at him as you stepped on your toes to give him better access.

He didn’t hesitate, he thurst in full strength, the surprise and pleasure filling you fully. The moan which followed made him shiver with something so unknown that his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh my God.” He groaned, hips coming to meet yours full force. “This is, uh, fuck, you’re perfect.” He stuttered. “You just feel so fucking good.” The breathlessness he was showcasing was matched with your loud moans which you were sure Yeosang could hear downstairs.

“H-Hwa...” The groan which left his throat grumbled in your abdomen how strong it was. “F-Faster, I need to take you whole!”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He couldn’t believe you would say something like that. Hell, he never imagined he’d have the chance to fuck your brains out like this. 

He pulled almost fully out of you, pausing for a moment only to slip back into your core, a moan erupting from both of your throats. You could feel him inside of you, moving along the ridges of your core and giving you that electric feeling deep inside of the pit of your stomach. He leaned down, bitting on your shoulder as he thrusted into your lower half. He was getting faster, harder, and rougher, and still, it wasn’t enough. His hand came to slap your ass harshly, your walls tightening around him as a result.

“You like that baby.” His shit eating grin had you pulling him into a kiss.

He hooked one of his arms under your leg to get a better angle, pushing you up against the glass doors of your shower, your boobs becoming more sensitive with the cold friction provided.

“I’m really close Hwa.” You cried out.

It’s a mess. Loud. Wet. Uncomfortable. But the high rippling through your body makes it all up to you.

“The way you moan my name has me going places y/n.” He whispered in your ear, pushing your leg up higher and reaching your sweet spot. The way your leg shook had Seonghwa smile to himself knowing he was making you feel like this. When your eyes made contact with his, when he saw just how fucked you were, and when a whimper of his name left your lips... Seonghwa went crashing down. His thursts were so good you let yourself go, tightening around him and cumming with a squeaze of your eyes. 

Seonghwa lost his footing and fell with you on top of him, hitting so deep he released his seed inside of you, making you spasm all over. 

The water came over you much stronger than before and you noticed from your tired vision that as you both fell, you broke the handles and the water wasn’t going to stop soon.

“Fuck...” You layed back onto him, letting his dick fall out of you and the jizz to come out your throbbing hole. “This will be fun to explain to Chan.”

“It’s okay, I know how to fix it.” He said his breathing barely coming back to normal. “I’m sorry I came inside you... It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m on the pill so we’re good.” You huffed out tired. “Though I’d like a nap.” 

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll fix the shower head while you take a nap.” He helped you up and you giggled.

“I hope we can have more of these.” You commented.

“More accidents in the shower?” He laughed.

“More sex.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He came up to you and kissed you on the lips. “We will.”

･*:༅

“But y/n, that painting could make hundreds of thousands of won!” Daniel yelled after you as you walked the gallery halls. “Come on, you have to sell it!”

“Daniel, for the last time.” You turned to him, glaring daggers at his pleading eyes. “I’m not selling the painting of my boyfriend to anybody!” 

With a huff you walked up to Jihyo and Chan as he followed after you. You pleaded with her to stop her stupid boyfriend before you commited a crime and she was quick to put him in his place.

“Why don’t you deal of the rest of my paintings? Why must you target that one?”

“Because you can feel the emotion you put into it.” He whined.

“Yes, and that’s why it will hang in my living room.” An arm snaked around your waist and a kiss was placed on your shoulder. “Please stop trying to sell me off.”

Daniel grumbled but pulled back. You greeted Seonghwa’s friends as they scattered around the hall, enjoying your pieces which hung off the walls. Seonghwa turned to look at the picture in which he laid on your bed, surrounded by sunlight and your many knick-nacks, one hand holding the bowl of blueberries and the other plopping one into his mouth. The most intense gaze staring back at him.

“What made you consider me to be your main piece?” He asked you suddenly.

“I wished upon a blue butterfly and you happened to walk in.” You smiled at him. “I guess that waitress was right.” Your eyes held so much affection for him. “I found my inspiration in you.”

[obiwhat]

Hey! I've been reading one of your fics and I kinda felt the need to request one! Your writing is so good! If it's levi/erwin is up to you, but that is the ship I'm usually going with 😍🙃

My rec is; Levi is acting out after his squad is killed (Petra, Eld, Gunter and Oulo/Auro? Ouro? I don't even know anymore-) in the way of how he would let out steam in the underground. He goes out drinking and instigates a fight, intentionally or subconsciously, and ends up getting overpowered by a group of men, probably because of his drunkenness and perhaps because of the injured ankle he sustained after the meeting with the female titan. His injuries after the fight are significant and eventually, he's found in an alleyway (or something), by Erwin who's been worried about his mental state (cause obviously, Levi has been trying to hide it, all though rather poorly), and takes care of him.

I hope this isn't too specific 😅 I take requests myself and appreciate people being as thorough as possible. If not; take whatever you like and run with ut 😄😄

AHH THANK YOU FOR SUCH A DETAILED ASK!! good stuff right here^^ big brain moves^^

Fix You: 

(AO3)

(warning: language, violence, a bit of a emetophobia and drinking ofc)

His heart ached. 

It spread through his chest into every limb of his body, to the point where the horrible throbbing from his ankle felt like a slight ache in comparison.

Every time Levi lost someone, it broke away a little piece of him. Even though he’d never let it see the surface, there were several cracks underneath. When he found his squad; bloody, with limbs dangling from trees and branches, it broke off another rather large piece. 

These were people he had trained closely. Erwin had trusted him enough to assign him a special leadership role in the Scouts and a special operations squad to suit it. When he trained them, he had drilled it into their heads everyday not to die. He gave them every bit of his knowledge on how to survive in the shitty world they had to endure.

He wasn’t a leader. He never had been. Unfortunate people just tended to follow behind him. Levi never knew the right thing to say or how to express what he was thinking, but his squad had still learned quickly. They were smart and skillful and he was… proud of them. Truly.

And their blood still painted that forest floor.

Levi knocked back another shot, numbing the pain for a moment longer. A fleeting escape from the horrors that crept into his mind yet again that night. He was dangling off of his bar stool as he slouched forward even further with his shoulders barely holding his head up. He flagged down the waiter for another round.

It wasn’t exactly clear what had driven him to the rougher side of town, to drown himself in shitty booze. It had a lot to do with his hands, which he refused to look down at. Every time he did, he saw red. Dark crimson. The blood of his comrades. Paired with the echo of radiating pain from his ankle. A pain, he felt, was well deserved.

He wasn’t even supposed to be walking on it, as much as possible at least. Hanji had given him grief about going to an actual doctor for the pain and the swelling. At the moment, he couldn’t find the will to care. As long as he could shove it into his boot and stumble his way into a bar for the night, then he was fine by his standards.

He downed another shot of whiskey, barely feeling the burn in the back of his throat any longer. The room spun, he huffed out a broken laugh quietly under his breath. It’d been years since he’d drank himself to this pathetic point. Not since the underground. Or maybe not since Farlan and…

He threw back the next shot and took in a sharp breath as he stubbornly blocked the memory from surfacing. His eyelids shut tightly as he tried to remove the thoughts of his failures from his mind. All the people he’d failed to protect. Despite his overwhelming strength. 

Humanity’s strongest soldier… 

What a load of bullshit.

He flagged down the bartender once more and asked for the whole damn bottle, slurring his words to the point of near incomprehension. The bartender didn’t seem to mind. Money was money. Even if his patrons drank themselves into a ditch. That’s how it went in these parts of town. Money was the only language anyone spoke, because money was the only way anyone could make it through the day.

It reminded him of home.

He slammed down his money and swiped the bottle from the counter, the bar spun wildly as he stood on his feet again. Levi had nearly forgotten about his injury, the sudden shift of weight onto his ankle sent him stumbling a bit. He hissed in pain, but only responded with another pull of the whiskey, straight from the bottle.

As the chilled night breeze hit him, Levi felt a sudden wave of disgust. It was the smell of sewage and grime. These alleyways were radiating with it. Swaying a bit, Levi grabbed out blindly for purchase. His palm found a brick wall, covered in something sticky. He winced, pain shooting up his leg as the alleyway walls spun dizzyingly around him.

The pain was welcome. In fact, he’d decided he didn’t deserve the numbness that the whiskey brought. He should feel it all. He’d gotten his comrades killed. Again. He wanted to feel something. To hit something.

Levi’s chance was walking down the other side of the alleyway, feet dragging confidently through the sludge of the streets. A group of men walking together, talking irritatingly loud in contrast to the quiet night streets Levi had enjoyed before.

“Haha! He was dumber than he looked!” One hollered confidently.

“What’d you expect from a son of a whore?” A burly man spit as he laughed, his dull voice echoing through the alleyway. He was obviously somewhat of a leader to them.

His last word perked Levi’s attention. He gripped his whiskey bottle tightly in one hand, nearly busting it into pieces.

“That’s a choice word there.” Levi lazily brought up a shaky finger, along with the whiskey bottle, to point in the direction of the burly man. Or at least where he thought he was. His vision was dancing.

The leader laughed a grating chuckle and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What is, you drunk idiot? You got a problem with the word whore?” 

“I gotta problem with your shit leaking face.” 

Levi growled out his words with a half cocked smirk, looking much like a wild animal in the dark of the alleyway. Although his threatening appearance was subdued by the fact that he could barely balance on his feet, without the help of the wall nearby.

“Haha!” The man belly-laughed once more, drawing near, his companions followed closely behind him. 

“You got some guts, short stuff. Got the chops to back that shit up?”

The leader rolled back his sleeves, his friends followed suit. They were all geared up to fight him. Levi laughed hollowly in the dark. A sick, empty, laugh influenced by the whiskey fueling his veins.

He swung hard at the burly man, a bit surprised to have connected with his jaw. Levi could barely see straight at this point. A hit was coming from his left, which he barely dodged sluggishly before grabbing the man’s arm with the hand that wasn’t still gripping his whiskey. He twisted it, breaking the man’s wrist.

Levi took a slow swig of the whiskey before he caught a glimpse of something shiny out of the corner of his eye, coming from his right. Someone had pulled a knife. Interesting.

It didn’t quite register properly until the next man lunged at him and he barely had the chance to grip his hand before the knife could plunge into his chest. This new face looked angry. Angrier that Levi had felt about the burly man’s comment. The cause of this chosen chaos. In fact, Levi wasn’t feeling much anger at all over this fight. 

The knife drew closer and closer. Levi managed to smack it away, not a moment too soon. The sound of metal crossing the stone ground echoed over the heavy breathing of the group. Levi had placed a heavy weight on his ankle with his last move causing a bit of a wince to unconsciously form on his face. Before he could register what had happened, he felt an even more crippling shock ripple through his entire leg. 

He gasped suddenly, vision darkening.

The whiskey bottle hit the ground, spilling the burgundy liquid all over the stone floor. Glass shards scattered all around.

The man had kicked him, hard, in his wounded leg. Right where he’d shoved his bruised, aching flesh into his boot. Levi’s legs gave out beneath him and his knees connected with the stone below with a loud thud. His palms hit glass in front of him as he could barely hold himself upright.

His head was spinning, swirling, and darkening his vision around the edges as he knew nothing but white hot pain for what felt like an eternity.

“I knew it! He’s got a bum leg!” The man who’d pulled the knife shouted gleefully to the remaining members of the crew. 

He must’ve noticed Levi’s wince from before. The man sent another crack into Levi’s wounded leg, sending ripples of agony through his entire body. It sobered him to another level fairly quickly. The other men were getting to their feet again as Levi quivered on the ground in pain, gripping his palms into glass and whiskey.

Everything was dark around him as another anticipated strike came through, this one connected harshly with his ribs. There was a deafening crack of bone. There was nothing he could do but wait for the next impact. He couldn’t help but yell out in pain as the agony overwhelmed him. Levi nearly passed out as his head hit the cold stone, whiskey and grime covering one side of his face.

With the side of his face, not plastered to the ground, Levi could spot more legs swinging, connecting with his side, and more sounds of shouting. He couldn’t tell if the shouting was his own anymore. He couldn’t feel much of anything anymore, everything was fading out slow. He was fading. 

There were six faces dancing around above him in his hazy vision. His head pounded as he tried desperately to get a grip on his consciousness.

Had there always been six of them? Or were they doubling from his drunken, wounded stupor? They all swirled into a confusing mess of faces. Ugly, contorted, swirling faces. He felt sick.

Another shock connected with his ribs. He heard another sickening crack over their laughs and hollers before his vision finally graced him with complete and utter darkness.

—

Another dead end and no sign of the captain. 

At some point he was going to have to send out a missing report. Erwin was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to that, but after hours of scouring the near entirety of the city and finding nothing, he was beginning to accept the facts. Levi was missing.

Missing. Out of bed. Injured.

Erwin remembered when he first saw Levi’s leg after the expedition. He’d only caught a glimpse when Hanji was looking him over. It was horribly bruised and swollen, raw. A part of him blamed himself, he’d sent the captain to fight the female titan. Yet again, Levi had sacrificed a part of himself for humanity. His wounded leg was a sacrifice, but Erwin knew there were much heavier weights on him, paining him deeper than flesh would show.

This small section of town was not one he expected to find Levi in. It was full of filth and squalor. A familiar sight to that of the underground. Something he’d assumed Levi would never return to willingly. 

A chill was in the air. Cool breeze passed on the outside of his hood as Erwin pulled it over his eyes. He turned into what he assumed was one of the last streets he hadn’t checked yet. There was a group of men who had just left an alleyway quickly, Erwin noticed a bit of blood on their clothes and faces, not exactly a shock in this part of town.

One man was gripping at his wrist and complaining loudly as they passed Erwin by. 

“Piece of shit broke my wrist!” He cried out and kicked a stone on the ground irritatedly.

“Be glad it wasn’t your neck, I bet he would’ve been a lot more dangerous if his leg wasn’t busted. I think he was trained or something. Did you see the way…” Their conversation trailed off as they disappeared around a corner. 

Erwin was no longer listening, he was more focused on a particular phrase in their conversation.

Busted leg? Erwin thought for a moment, fearing the worst in the back of his mind. It couldn’t be…

The commander broke into a quicker pace, sweat dripping nervously down the back of his neck as he followed the alleyway, where the men had come from. It was dark and smelled of filth, blanketed in whiskey. There was glass covering the ground as he walked further, he could hear it crunch underneath his boots with each step.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erwin caught a glimpse of black dress shoes. A body lay slumped up against the brick wall of the alley. A head of dark hair, shadowing a pale and bloody face. 

Levi.

Erwin kneeled down quickly and placed a warm hand on his shoulder, attempting to rouse him gently. His body was shaking horribly, covered in his own blood and the scent of whiskey. 

“Levi…? Please.” Erwin winced as his voice died in his throat. “Say something. Are you alright?”

There was no response. Erwin pushed his dark locks out of his eyes to get a better view of his face. The blood he’d spotted earlier was dripping from his lips which made him immediately check his torso for wounds. He couldn’t find any blood, but when he lifted his shirt carefully, he spotted it. 

Erwin had looked emotionlessly at many wounds before, but this made him winced in sympathy. Seeing black and blue paint the side of Levi’s porcelain, perfect skin made him want to run and find those men from before. But no. Levi was the most important thing right now and he had injured himself even worse than before. 

The thought over his previous injury crossed Erwin’s mind as he hesitantly lifted Levi’s pant leg. If the bruising on his torso was dark, his leg looked like the night sky. His bruises were black and dark purple, spiraling their way up to his knee. The flesh was swollen and warm to the touch when Erwin hovered his hand above it nervously.

How did this happen? Why was Levi here in the first place? He smelled heavily of alcohol, it was probably what was covering his clothes and turning his cheeks pink. Had he come here to get drunk? To start a fight in an alleyway? 

It would be very uncharacteristic of him. But, of course, finding him here in the first place was very uncharacteristic. He wasn’t himself. He hadn’t been for some time now.

Without time to spare, Erwin pulled his cloak off of his shoulders and wrapped Levi’s broken, shivering form. He frowned as he watched the man continue to shake harshly despite the warmth of the cloth. He hadn’t even noticed Erwin’s presence, unusually unalert and dazed.

“It’ll be alright Levi. I’m here now.” His hands hovered over his chest. He’d have to carry him back. “I have to lift you. Please endure it for a moment, we’re not too far from my house.”

Erwin scooped him off of the filthy stone floor and into his warm hold as carefully as he could muster. Levi moaned in pain in his embrace, Erwin pulled him tighter against his chest as he brought them out of the dark alleyway and back into the light.

—

A bath was in order. Erwin knew Levi inside and out. He knew he wouldn’t be too keen on waking up smelling like alcohol and blood. He’d be better if he was cleaned up a bit and his wounds were wrapped. Erwin was determined to fix this. To fix him.

He laid Levi’s still, unconscious body carefully into his bathtub, kneeling beside him and washing off the dirt and the blood from his face with a cool rag. He was so delicate with him, like he was handling fragile glass.

Erwin surprised even himself with how carefully he guided the rag across Levi’s broken skin. He wasn’t used to being this careful and soft. War and death had all but stripped him of these qualities. But not with Levi. With Levi, he was different.

It had been a struggle carrying the captain back, with his wounds being so extensive. However, Erwin had made it to his house in record time without much unconscious complaint from the shivering form in his arms. He had been light. Far too light for Erwin’s liking. 

He tried to ignore the way Levi’s collar bones stuck out slightly as he washed away soap and the whiskey smell with the soft scrub. Erwin couldn’t bear to glance at the curious patterns of bruises over Levi’s thin body or the way his chest rose and fell with a heavy struggle. He just continued to wash away the soap and water.

Erwin scooped a bit of water into his palms and washed it through Levi’s hair, watching as the last of the blood and whiskey found its way down the drain. As the water trickled through his dark hair, down the back of his neck, Levi stirred a bit but never opened his eyes.

“E-Erwin…” Levi breathed through his words, dazed and unaware of his own incoherent mumbles.

“I’m here, Levi.” Erwin gripped his slender hand tight and ran his other across the man’s creased forehead. “I’m right here. You’re alright.”

“No…” Levi mumbled, voice breaking as his eyes pinched together tighter. “Can’t leave me… Not you… too…”

“I won’t leave you Levi... I promise.” 

Such promises were foolhardy in the work they did, but Erwin couldn’t stop himself from making it. He couldn’t stand the way his captain cried out in pain and heartbreak, it was worse than any gruesome scene he’d witnessed. 

Levi leaned into his touch as Erwin cupped his palms around his cheeks and kissed his forehead gently. He didn’t know exactly what possessed him to do so, but it seemed to cause some relief from his captain so he allowed it. 

Once he was clean, dry and warming up again, Erwin took him to his warm bed to rest finally. He dressed his wounds carefully, glad to see that Levi was finally resting somewhat peacefully. He hoped he could now sense his presence at least. To know he wasn’t alone tonight.

Erwin was concerned with the heat radiating from Levi’s ankle as he wrapped it. He was determined to get Levi to an actual doctor in the morning to look everything over. He would command him this time, to ensure he actually did so. For now, he placed a cool rag on the man’s forehead just in case a fever began, which was entirely likely.

He was in rough shape. Erwin had been lucky to find him when he did. 

What if he hadn’t? Would he have caught his death in the chilled night? Or slept on the cold stone ground, injured and alone?

Erwin couldn’t understand Levi’s behavior. It wasn’t like him in the slightest. He was usually so level headed and composed. It made the commander ache to think that this sacrifice had made the man fall so low.

—

A dark ceiling was spiraling above him. One that seemed vaguely familiar. His head hurt too much to even try to deduce where the hell he was. There was a cool cloth placed on his brow, wrappings covered his ribs, palms, and leg, his shirt was missing.

All this spinning was aggravating.

He was going to be sick. 

Levi crumbled off the side of the bed, hardly making it to the floor as his legs refused to hold him. His body was broken, defeated, exhausted beyond belief. A dizzying roll to his stomach made him clutch it in pain. There was a waste bin by the bed frame which he gratefully and regrettably clutched to his chest.

For a moment, nothing happened. He wished it would, feeling unbelievably nauseous and confused. But he could do nothing to help himself rather than sitting there, shakily clutching the bin.

“Levi…” A familiar whisper found him in the dark. 

He jumped and lashed out with a blind strike that hit nothing but air. Erwin’s hand gripped his wrist softly and lowered it, slow. “It’s just me. You’re here with me, at my house.”

Levi’s chest collapsed in breath as he winced again and dry heaved into the bin. Nothing had come from it. He hadn’t eaten enough. He hadn’t eaten much at all… Since… 

Blood… Everywhere… 

He dry heaved again, gripping the bin with white knuckles. Erwin rubbed soft circles on his back. The familiar touch was welcome despite the circumstances.

“You haven’t been eating, have you?” He asked, quiet so as to not upset Levi further.

Levi didn’t respond. Not because he was unable, but because he simply did not want to. It was pointless. He couldn’t have stomached food. Not while looking at the blood on his hands as he chowed down. Not while his comrades were left bloody in those damn woods.

He slid the bin to the ground and brought his knees into his chest despite the pain it caused him. Levi rubbed cruel circles into his thigh as his wound echoed agony through his entire leg.

He heard Erwin inhale deeply. 

“Levi… Why were you…? You can’t just do something like this. What if I hadn’t found you?”

“How did… you… find me?” Levi coughed slightly as his breath caught in his injured chest. 

Something deep inside him almost wished Erwin hadn’t found him at all. He shut it away.

“I came to your room to check on you.” Erwin explained, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “You weren’t there, so I went looking at your regular spots.”

Levi faced his head towards his chest and buried his face deeper, to try to escape this. He wanted to escape again. It was all too much.

“I didn’t think you’d be in the bar district. It was the last place I tried looking.” 

He’s been looking for me all night then. 

What an idiot.

“Why were you there, Levi?” His voice turned soft, a tone that only Levi had probably ever heard from the man. Something sacred between them.

“Why do you think?” Levi’s tone was more venomous than he intended. If his head wasn’t pounding, he might’ve corrected himself.

“I was worried about you.” Erwin maintained that soft voice despite Levi’s defensive nature. He placed a hesitant hand on the injured man’s knee. 

“With everything going on, I can’t lose you too. I need you.”

He needs me, huh? 

Why?

Levi hadn’t realized he’d asked it aloud. 

“Why?” Erwin repeated his words back to him, looking damaged by the question. “Because…”

The words caught in his throat, at a loss for the right phrasing.

“You’re important to me. To humanity.”

Humanity…

It all feels like a bad joke…

What part of humanity am I even helping if everyone around me gets killed?

“Why’d you even let me train a squad? I just got them all murdered…” Levi felt his chest hitch. 

“Their blood… Erwin…”

He finally risked a glance at his shaking hands and clenched his fists so hard he thought his fingernails might draw blood from his flesh.

“It’s all over my hands.”

Erwin was silent. Without his drawing of breath nearby, Levi wouldn’t have known he was even still there with him. But he was, he knew Erwin would never leave him alone right now.

“No matter how many times I scrub them…” He swallowed a wave of nausea as he could see the red start to blanket his palms again. He felt insane. “I can't clean the blood off.”

Suddenly, large warm fingers wrapped around his slender hands, steadying them for him.

“I can't either.” 

Erwin’s voice was hoarse in the dark. He rubbed a thumb across the back of Levi’s hand softly, despite the pain in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” His words soothed something deep inside Levi’s aching chest. “We’ll never be able to wipe this blood away.”

Levi released a captive breath, leaning forward into Erwin’s chest despite the burning in his ribs. Erwin could soothe it. He could soothe this pain. Even just by a fraction. Levi sunk into him with fatigue in his bones.

“It reminds us of their sacrifice. What they did for humanity. What we will continue to do for humanity, with their strength fueling our fight.”

Humanity… Humanity’s Strongest… 

Never strong enough to save anyone important though… 

No one really needs me… Especially not like this… 

Broken…

“Stop. You’ll regret it.” His deep voice was stern now. A command from years ago. A call back to reality. “You were a good leader to them. They did their duty well. Perfectly.”

“Don’t—” Levi’s voice caught in his throat.

“You taught them well. They were able to live as long as they did only because of you. Because of what they learned from their time with you.” Erwin brushed a hand through his hair softly and held him closer. “You did well by them. They were proud to die under your last command, I can promise you that.”

Levi wanted to argue, to refuse this, but he couldn’t find the strength behind words just yet. He could only be held tightly by his commander and hear his voice next to his ear.

“I saw the way they looked up to you. Worshipped you in some cases. Loved you in others. They would not do this if you weren’t worthy of it.” He pressed further. “Just the idea of you makes our soldiers confident in a future of freedom. It’s not just your physical capabilities, Levi. It’s the strength within you as well. That is why you’re important.”

He meant it. He meant every damn word. Levi had never heard someone speak so passionately about another person. With such vigor and honesty. It made his heart clench painfully in his broken chest.

“You have to continue. For them.” He whispered in Levi’s ear now, soft and comforting. “For me, as well. I need you, most of all.”

Tears finally found their way onto Levi’s cheeks, eyes turning red in irritation. He cursed himself and crumbled in Erwin’s arms completely. 

“God it hurts… It hurts all over.” He couldn’t tell if he was talking about the pain in his heart or the pain in his body. It didn’t really matter as Erwin caressed him softly and made it fade for just a moment.

Erwin didn’t numb him like the alcohol had. He allowed him to feel, to cry, to express. And he held him tightly through it all.

Until the morning sun rose, finding them fast asleep in each other's embrace on the wooden floor. Soft rays of sunlight crossed their cheeks in unison.

[magemelondew]

I know I don't normally post stuff like this, but I just hate it so much when people call Wheatley derogatory names like "idiot" and "moron" as if it's affectionate and funny because like.. it's straight up bullying. How do I know that? Oh, well, it's probably because people did it to me as a child.

Sure, he's a fictional character, but my point still stands; calling him those things is bullying. He wasn't made to be stupid. GLaDOS tells you that. You can't exactly take everything she says at face value, as she can often mislead. It's like a rumor going around at school, you hear something about someone and it spreads and nobody stops to think if it's true. By just blindly believing things about people, you're causing harm to the person in question, and especially so when you're promoting it.

If you dig around in the game's files, an unused line has Wheatley telling a story in the turret factory where he explains that rumor got around about an accident he had caused.

"Over there is where they used to keep the old neurotoxin release button… BIG responsibility, the guy in charge of the neurotoxin release button… And guess who he WAS? …Wasn’t me. But I was his assistant, and I did a lot of his admin. You know, in the end, yes… they let me go… It’s all politics, to be honest. It’s a big popularity contest. It’s all about who you know and whose back you’re willing to scratch and who doesn’t touch – y’know, or in my case who did accidentally touch – the neurotoxin button… But y’know, not entirely my fault! You shoulda seen the SIZE of it! It was huge! I mean I should have got a raise for all the times that I DIDN’T… accidentally bump into it…"

The foreman was going to hire him, until he heard about what Wheatley had done. So they sent him to the lowest job available– the relaxation center. He doesn't have a job, really, he's not in charge of anything. The entire facility there is automatic, He was just there as a safeguard for whenever it failed. They didn't trust them because of those rumors.

"Here's an interesting story. You might like this. I almost got a job down here in Manufacturing. But, uh, guess who the foreman went with? Only an exact duplicate of himself. Nepotism. Ended up giving me the WORST possible job, tending to all the smelly humans."

It's possible that these things were intentionally made up to give him social anxiety and self-esteem issues, thinking that would slow GLaDOS down. He's all emotion, literally, so affecting him in that fashion would absolutely stunt her ability to think clearly. I don't think there's much proof to back this up, that's simply my own thoughts on it.

To the scientists and GLaDOS, emotions only get in the way of rational thinking. Wheatley listens more to his heart than his head, well, in a figurative sense. The scientists see that as irrational and moronic, hence him being called the intelligence dampening core. He's the perfect way to interrupt rational thinking in GLaDOS, as he fills her head with fear or anxiety. People who feel emotions a lot deeply tend to place their own feelings over logic. And later in the story, Wheatley valued the euphoric response that the chassis gave him.

Many people have hurt Wheatley in the past. His anxiety, self doubt, and his inability to trust others much all are effects of people talking about him being his back and having nobody to cling to. He liked Chell because she knew nothing about him. She didn't say anything mean to him, and it was like a fresh pallette. Not to mention that she was the only person he had probably seen for long time.

For someone who had been hurt by people all his life, wouldn't he absolutely hate humans altogether? They smell bad, talk bad things about him behind his back, and call him names. They made him dislike himself since the start of his life, but he still holds out hope to be cared for by someone. Someone who doesn't know him at all, or knows about the things people have said about him.

And when he's placed into the chassis, GLaDOS just blurts out the one thing he's extremely insecure about.

"YES YOU ARE! YOU'RE THE MORON THEY BUILT TO MAKE ME AN IDIOT!"

When wheatley gets the chassis, it's a form of drug use, as said by GLaDOS.

"The body he's squatting in - MY body - has a built-in euphoric response to testing. Eventually you build up a resistance to it, and it can get a little... unbearable. Unless you have the mental capacity to push past it."

His bottled up emotions just released and he exploded the moment he got reminded of his own past. The way he was mentally lead him to substance abuse, as shown by his immediate addiction to the chassis. He was highly focused on the pleasure response from testing rather of the facility. Well, not like he even knew how to take care of the facility in the first place.

He's a core who's been told off because of how clumsy and impulsive he is, and those are things he can't really control. They didn't know what to do with him, so they were probably always scolding him for his mistakes and never praising him for doing something right, therefore, he's always doubting himself. How is he supposed to know when he's doing something right? That's probably why he makes those mistakes, he's never been able to properly learn how.

GLaDOS tries to defeat Wheatley out of sheer anger, and when she insults him, he becomes furious. He doesn't want to be reminded of how he's been treated his entire life. And for once in his life, he has the power to retaliate. So he does. He gets legitimately angry and tries to kill them both.

He thinks that now that Chell believes it too, that she thinks he's an idiot as well, since he's never had anyone stand up for him or have his back. He spends a lot of his time in the chassis trying to prove otherwise. He just hates being thought of that way so much when he knows he's not.

"You're in this together, aren't you? You've been playing me the whole time! Both of you! First you make me think you're brain damaged! Then you convince me you're sworn enemies with your best friend over here!"

A lot of people might bring up the paradox that she tried to use against him as proof as he's unintelligent, but really, he's simply choosing not to listen to GLaDOS.

"Hey, Moron!"

"Oh. Hello."

"Alright. Paradox time. This. Sentence. Is. FALSE don't think about it don't think about it..."

"Um, true. I'll go with true."

"I'll be honest, I might have heard that one before, though. Sort of cheating."

He's not thinking about it because he didn't care what she had to say. He saw her as just another asshole in his life and acted ignorant towards her comments.

He's also the only character in the game who apologizes. Nobody else does except him.

Yes, he's just a fictional character and whatever, I know, he's not real. But.. let me tell you why this is so important to me.

When I was a child, I had a lot of issues with other people. They would call me a crybaby, they would spread rumors about me doing disgusting things and other horrible things. Even my teacher didn't like me. I was diagnosed with ADHD at a very young age, and that made me very emotional and sensitive, making me stand out from everyone else.

Nobody wanted to spend time with me, nobody wanted to sit with me, and I spent most of my time alone in the library playing computer games since the kids outside wouldn't even let me play with them. Kids were scared of even touching me because of Diary of A Wimpy kid books spreading the idea of the cheese touch, and everything there called it the Sarah touch. It was horrible. Bullying made me introverted and now, I spend all my time alone because I didn't have friends. I'm sensitive and insecure, and I have issues communicating with people, as well as taking things people say a bit too personally sometimes. By the end of elementary school, I only really had 2 friends.

Although my experience isn't the same, I know that a lot of these things are similar; being singled out because of things you don't understand or have control of, and people constantly spreading rumors and lies about you to make people hate you and avoid you. You learn to not trust people around you and that you're the only person you can really rely on.

Sure, you can keep thinking Wheatley is a moron, I can't help that. All I want is people to stop spreading it everywhere and look into it for themselves. To develop their own opinions based on his actions rather than what GLaDOS says about him. I just want people to know that they're doing the same exact thing the kids at school did to them as a child to Wheatley, and it's not right.

Thank you for reading. Sorry if this was a bit all over the place, I just want people entering the fandom or have been in it for a while to see this and take some kind of action to improve upon themselves and their views of others around them. I used to think the same thing. I thought he was a power hungry idiot, but.. he's not. And I think that should be more widespread knowledge.

[imissjoongsmullet]

Too Far and Over and Out

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: smut

Summary: The last part in a very dirty Bang Chan series in which a one night stand leads to a bunch of fuckery.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

In this final installment, Chan makes you pay for kissing another and things reach a boiling point. 

Warnings: graphic sexual content (duh), swearing, fuck buddies, violence, choking, a bit of degradation, unprotected sex (be safe kids don’t be like Bang Chan), bit of romance, bit of angst

Word Count: 3K

Author’s Note: Ok. I never expected this series to receive the amount of love it has (heck I didn’t think this would even be a series!) so  just want to thank every single person who’s read it and left comments in their tags or reblogged or shown me any kind of support ♡ You have no idea how much I appreciate it! Thank you so much and if you like my writing, be sure to check out my other stuff cause I will be back with more~ ♡

►

"What the fuck!"

The voice is startlingly loud compared to the hushed conversation you'd been in for the past few hours. Before you can even see where it came from you’re pulled from your new lover’s arms. Realization hits you like a dreadful bomb when you see the dark haired man you’d been kissing crash into the wall after being pushed by a shorter, blond haired guy.

Fuck.

Chan twists around and his eyes are wild. He grabs you by the arm and, without a word, drags you from the scene. You want to say something to make him stop but you’re still so perplexed by everything that’s just happened, all you can do is whimper at the painful grip he’s got you in. He looks around furiously as he takes you into a narrow hallway and through the first door he sees.

You let out a yelp when he yanks you in after him and immediately throws you against the wall, blocking you with his frame.

“What the fuck was that?!”

You stare up into his searing gaze, for the first time actually afraid.

“What do you mean?”

The corner of his mouth curls up but it’s not a warm smile. His eyes are fire and he’s not going to let you get away.

“What do I mean?” he scoffs, “You’ve got to be kidding me! You acting like a cheap whore is what I mean!”

The comment hurts and he has no right to talk to you like that. You want to speak up but he doesn’t let you.

“Tell me,” he goes on, jabbing you in the shoulders, “you do this with a lot of guys? Huh? You let them fuck you too? How many guys have you spread your legs for lately?”

The image of him and that other girl flashes through your mind and with it, all the anger and frustration you’ve been feeling towards him swells, threatening to burst from you at any moment.

“Answer me!” he yells, banging his hand against the wall.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you spit back and try to shove him off but he pushes you back with ease, his hands now tight around both of your wrists.

“You don’t talk to me like that,” he snarls, pressing himself too close for comfort.

This just rouses your anger further. “I’m not afraid of you,” you retort, still trying to pull yourself from his grip. He squeezes the blood from your wrists for a few painful seconds longer before one hand lets go and shoots up to your throat, applying a dizzying pressure.

“Well maybe you should be scared cause you’ve really fucking pissed me off tonight.”

You’re eyes flutter. It’s hard to breathe and for a moment there’s nothing you can do but gasp for air.

“Coming in here tonight, looking like a grade-A slut, it’s disgusting—”

You tear his hand from your throat. “Don’t you dare call me that!” you pant, trying not to choke on the air that rushes back into your lungs. “You’re the one that came here to pick up girls!”

His eyes widen for the fraction of a second but then they turn vicious once again. “You were the one sticking their tongue down a stranger’s throat!”

“As if you weren’t on your way to do the exact same thing!”

“Only because you left the moment things got real with me!”

“That’s—” you start but he cuts you off.

“You’ve been ignoring me for days what do you expect me to do huh? You're the one that disappea—"

“Fine, okay? Maybe I’m scared!” you let out in a voice shakier than you’d like to admit, “maybe I don’t want any of this confusing stuff! Maybe I just want things to be simple!"

“Well, I’ll make things simple for you then,” he interjects and presses himself flush against you, crashing his lips into yours.

You gasp into his mouth but can't help but kiss back. It feels like the floor has just been wiped out from under you and you swear, if Chan wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, you’d be falling down to god-knows-where. It takes more than a few moments for the initial shock to wear off but when it does, you manage to break the kiss.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, looking up at him.

“Making things simple for you,” he replies, instantly kissing you again. His hand slips into your hair to the back of your head so he can bring you nearer, letting his lips take yours more deeply. You let out an involuntary whimper. You’re so weak for him already that, when he pulls away for a brief instant your legs tremble.

“From now on, you’re mine and mine alone,” he breathes onto your lips before claiming them again. His free hand roams around to the small of your back to pull you impossibly close. His grip on you is tight but his tongue is soft and wet against yours, making you moan.

“I want you to be mine,” he says with another chaste kiss, “and I’ll be yours.” He doesn’t give you any time to respond for his lips find yours again and again, only growing in desperate passion and you can’t help but let him. He feels so good on you. His words echo in your mind as your hands find their way around his back and shoulders.

You feel a tug at your waist and you move, walking with him. You follow blindly until he twists the two of you around and pushes you down.

Your fall is broken by soft plush. You hadn't even realized you were in a bedroom up until now. He's on you in a flash and has somehow taken off his shirt in the process. You gasp into his mouth at the sudden weight of him on you. His hands find your wrists and pin them to the mattress while his hips are already starting to slowly grind into you.

You’re finding yourself looking for breath because his lips are merciless, kneading and tugging at yours as if it were their sole purpose. His familiar smell envelops you, reminding you of the incredible things you’ve done together. This only fuels your eagerness; you kiss back with more fervor and feel the side of his mouth curve up.

Without warning he rises, bringing you up with him until you’re on his lap on the bed, your legs straddling him. He fingers the hem of your dress and brings it up. You shift a little, allowing him to take the fabric up all the way over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. He takes a short moment to ogle your body before meeting your eyes and capturing you with another kiss.

His hands roam the skin of your back, massaging you into him in a blissful, slow rhythm. You whine when he brings his lips down to your jawline, going down to your neck, where he knows exactly how to make you go crazy.

You let out a moan and press your fingers into his shoulder blades. His bare skin feels so nice. You let your nails run random trails up and down his back, feeling him start to harden beneath you.

He’s at your collarbones now, sucking you purple while his hands unhook your bra. His lips come off with a pop and he looks up at you dazedly. You know what he wants; your bra is off in a flash giving him more territory to mark.

He’s even more fervent than usual, sucking and biting bruises into your skin from your neck, your shoulders, all the way down to your breasts, making sure no one will ever be confused about who you belong to.

The feel of his lips, his teeth, the pain and pleasure, it’s tantalizing. Your breath grows heavy and, slowly, you start to move your hips into him.

The effect is instant.

“Fuck,” he sighs against your breast, “fuck, I want you.”

He raises his eyes to yours again and, shit, he’s never looked so good. There’s not nearly enough time to appreciate him though because he suddenly pushes you down onto the mattress and tears off the rest of his and your clothes. He looms over you and pins your wrists once again as you feel him position himself over your entrance.

“Chan?” you ask wearily but whatever you’re going to say next gets cut off because he snaps his hips into you all at once, filling you up so much, so fast, you let out a piercing cry.

The sound is stupidly loud and you’re scared someone might have heard you, but then Chan’s lips are on yours again and you forget everything.

“Shhh,” he hisses into you as he starts thrusting himself into you relentlessly.

But you simply cannot be quiet. His dick is so hard and you are so unprepared for this. You want to clasp yourself around him but he’s got you pinned tight so all you can do is cry out under him as the initial pain starts to turn into pleasure.

“Bad girl,” he pants and his hand comes over your mouth, stifling any sound you make. His voice shakes with the rhythm of his thrusts and you can now see just how far gone he already is. You’re stuck beneath him, unable to do anything but let him ride you until his spills over. And he will soon if he keeps going like this, you can tell. The way his face is slack in total ecstasy for you, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted; it drives you wild. You can barely breathe with his large hand covering your mouth and most of your nostrils but all it does is drive you closer to your high.

“Fuck,” he pants squeezing into your wrist, “fuck.” He pulls out swiftly, only to flip you over onto your stomach. Then he grabs your hips and pulls them up and back towards himself. You manage to get on your elbows just in time for him to slam himself back into you and recommence his assault on your body. The new angle he’s hitting you at makes you shudder. You bite into the pillow under you to keep from screaming as he bounces you around like a rag doll.

A hand takes hold of your forearm and pulls you back. At once, your lewd moans are released into the air, a thread of drool extending from your parted lips down to the pillow you’d been biting into.

Chan’s other hand clasps over your mouth again, pulling you up against himself.

“I said be quiet, baby girl,” he whispers hotly in your ear, never slowing down his hips.

You whine into his palm weakly, feeling yourself start to shake. You know you’re being too much but you’re out of control.

“Such a loud little whore,” he spits and he lets you go.

You bounce into the mattress and before you can do anything, his hand is at the back of your neck, holding you down. You’re suffocating in the plush pillow he’s keeping you locked in. Your desperate cries are now barely audible, which is probably a good thing because he’s somehow picked up his tempo, snapping his hips into you with an almost cruel intensity.

“You’re fucking mine,” he grunts, “you hear that?”

He’s panting and groaning above you and you wish you could see his face. You’re starting to struggle for breath and you’re seeing stars. You still hear him but everything is growing fainter by the second. You make out a few more mines until the rapid thrusting comes to an abrupt halt and you feel him release inside you. He lets go of your neck and half-collapses on top of you. He rides out his orgasm slowly, his lips grazing the skin of your back as he moans softly.

“Fuck, baby.”

You’re still catching your breath when he moves off you and when he turns you onto your back again you’re met with his signature smug smile.

“You thought we were done?” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

You open your mouth but don’t know what to say as he spreads your legs and promptly gets down in between them.

His tongue is on you at once, lapping up the mess he’s made.

This time, you clasp your own hand over your mouth to keep from letting everyone at the party know what’s going on.

But he’s not being quiet either. He moans into your heat like it’s the best thing he’s ever had.

“I’ve missed your taste,” he says before his tongue enters you. He goes in and out a couple of times and then moves up toward your clit, trailing softly around the most sensitive area, listening to your breath as an indicator of what to do next.

He looks up at you once and curses.

“You look so fucking hot,” he breathes, before sticking two fingers in you at once.

You gasp and he smirks, coming up to kiss your lips while his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

“I bet you’d like to moan for me right now,” he whispers against your lips.

You can only let out the tiniest, most desperate whine for him, nodding.

He bites into your bottom lip. “Hmmmm,” he hums into you, curling his fingers inside you. “How about you choke on my dick instead?”

Your eyes go wide at the sudden remark and he’s already moving off of you. He lays down and tugs you on top in reverse so you’re facing his already hardened cock. He grabs you by the hips and brings them to his face so he can finish what he’s started. His lips are on your clit, sucking and a shriek escapes you.

“Get to it,” he orders and you do as you’re told, moving down and wrapping your lips around his cock.

“Good girl,” he moans against your center and his hands start to massage your ass.

You coat his length with your saliva and start to move up and down, slowly at first, getting used to his size as you always have to.

Even now it’s hard to keep quiet. He just knows exactly how to touch you to drive you nuts. He’s sucking at you with such eagerness, swirling his tongue against you, fingers squeezing into your ass, pulling you closer and you’re finding it hard to even focus on anything but your own pleasure. So you sit there, whining helplessly around his cock and, thankfully, that seems to work for him. The vibrations of your voice seem to spur him on. He moans into you just as you moan into him and you start to feel his hips move. At first he’s rolling his hips into your mouth slowly but after a minute or so he’s turned to bucking up into you, making you gag.

His dick twitches and pulses under your tongue, which prompts you to start hollowing out your cheeks. You want to hear him more so you move against his hips, trying to take him deeper. He claws at your skin and groans so deliciously against your clit. You feel yourself near your high.

“Chan I’m-” you start.

“I know,” he cuts in, voice muffled. His tongue travels up and down again before he starts sucking exactly where he needs to.

You squeeze your eyes closed as you moan around his hard cock, taking him in all the way. Tears stain your eyes because Chan is not letting up. His lips play with you as wave after wave of pleasure surges over you, making you shake.

You’re crying around his dick, digging your nails into his thighs as you cum and cum and all of a sudden, you feel him release inside your mouth and and the back of your throat. You gag but are unable to move so you let him fill you, swallowing him down until he comes to a stop.

You feel him tugging at your hips so you turn around to face him. He’s looking up at you, lips glimmering and eyes full of bliss. He takes your hand and pulls so you fall down into his arms. His fingers travel over your neck and collarbones, where your skin has turned all kinds of purple.

“So is this it then?” you ask, following his fingers with your eyes.

He kisses your temple and that’s a first. “What?”

You smile. “You’re just going to mark me 24/7 so no one else can have me?”

“I might have to, yeah,” he replies.

You roll your eyes and face him. “You won’t have to.”

“Oh?” he says, raising his brows at you, “and why is that?”

You mimic his chiding look and answer, “I’m not gonna say it.”

He let out a chuckle and pulls you closer. “Always so loving, you are.”

You lie in silence for quite a while, just staring at the ceiling, minds trailing off to whatever. It’s so nice. You almost think you might fall asleep right there in his arms, when there’s a sudden knock on the door and you both shoot up in panic.

Instinctively, you roll off the bed, taking the blanket with you. He stumbles after you, shouting at the door for people to ‘don’t come in!’

The two of you wait in fear for a full couple of minutes before getting up. The amount of rumors that would start if someone would find you two like this would be disastrous.

When nothing seems to happen, you go around the room collecting your clothes and try to make yourselves look at least a little presentable for the outside world. You run your fingers through his fucked out hair as he pulls your dress down further over your legs. You give each other the okay and approach the door. He cracks it open just a bit and peers out into the hallway. It seems to have emptied but he hesitates nonetheless. You’re about to say something when he turns around to face you.

“You know,” he starts, taking your hand, “I’m serious about this.”

His eyes are piercing yours. You feel your whole body heat up and, for once, it’s not because you’re horny.

“I want you to be mine and mine alone,” he adds, swiping the ground right from under your feet again.

You don’t know what to say at that. You just stare at him as his hand comes to cup your cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re speechless,” he chuckles and pinches the skin. And with that, he opens the door and walks the both of you out.

So you suppose you’re going to have to rethink your opinion about Christopher Bang. Yes, he’s loud and obnoxious; and yes, he might have an ego more inflated than a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade float. But he’s also sweet and funny, and let’s not forget he knows how to fuck your brains out.

And he is your boyfriend now,

so you suppose he’s alright.

♡

[ineverlookavvay]

intricate rituals

Post season 2. Alex struggles at his father's wake, and Michael is there for him

Fic prompt: “Just trust me.” - Day 5 of Michael Guerin Week 2020

warnings: funeral/wake setting, referenced child abuse, referenced homophobia, ableism, light alcohol use

Read it on Ao3

Michael looked around for Alex as he stepped into the house, his skin prickling with unreasonable nervousness.  It didn’t take him long to find Alex, standing by a window in the living room with someone in a decorated uniform.  Alex looked impassive except for his eyes, which kept flitting around as if looking for an escape.  Michael paused to grab a beer from the table set up with food and stuff, and walked slowly over to Alex.  

He hadn’t wanted to bother Alex at the funeral, hadn’t actually wanted to even be at the funeral, except he wanted to be there for Alex, if he looked like he needed it.  He’d watched from a little ways off as Alex stood with his brothers, all of their expressions stony, wearing suits and dress uniforms, and looking the part of the grieving family against the backdrop of the bright grey skies.  

But now, at the wake, Michael thought Alex might want to see someone who wasn’t associated with his father, who wasn’t here because they actually missed Jesse Manes.  

“Hey,” Michael said, slipping into place in front of Alex as the person talking to him moved away. 

“Hi.”  Alex sounded relieved, and Michael tried not to feel too happy about that. 

“Never thought I’d come back here,” Michael said, looking around quickly. 

“Me neither,” Alex replied.  He lifted his hand as if to drink from the glass he was holding, and then lowered it again without actually touching it to his lips.  “I actually didn’t think you’d come at all.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Michael said softly, turning his face towards the window so that no one in the room could read his lips.  “Are you okay?”

Alex hesitated for long enough that Michael felt it hang in the air between them.  “He’s finally dead, you know, and—and I’m still here.”  Alex gestured vaguely around the room, his father’s house, a place he hadn’t had to go in years, and now…

“You didn’t have to come,” Michael said softly, fully prepared for the rebuke.

“You don’t know anything about this, about familial obligations,” Alex snapped, and then immediately sagged, looking exhausted and sad.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“No,” Michael took a drink of his beer, his mouth set tightly.  It stung, but this wasn’t about him.  “I get it.”

Alex sighed.  He was holding tightly to the drink that he wasn’t drinking, and Michael thought maybe it was just to keep his hands steady.  “I wish we could just,” he lowered his voice, leaning into Michael’s space, a pained look passing over his face, “toss him in the ground and be done with it.  Not all of this…performance.”

Michael nodded.  “I wish you could, too.”

“It’s been nice having Gregory around, though.  He’s helpful, at least.  Flint is…”

“Actually mourning?”  Michael asked bitterly.

“We’re all mourning,” Alex replied, looking away and then back at him, his face hard with unspoken emotion.  “Even if it’s just for the family we never had, the one all of these people think we did.”   

Michael reached out carefully and gripped the edge of Alex’s sleeve between his thumb and forefinger.  “I really wanna hug you, but…”

Alex nodded, moving his wrist slightly so their skin touched for a moment and then pulling back.  “Yeah, better not.  I don’t really know who’s here, so.”

“Yeah.”  Michael let the sleeve drop, swallowing around all of the emotion, trying to keep himself from showing too much.  Without Jesse, they were the only thing in their own way, and Michael knew that, and it only made it harder to know that they still weren’t together.  

Alex made a quiet sound of disgust and Michael’s attention flipped back to him, following Alex’s gaze over to a corner of the room opposite them where Flint was holding court, surrounded by somber people.  He looked pale, and was holding himself up against the wall, pretending to just be leaning on it.  

“It’s ridiculous,” Alex said suddenly, bitterly.  “The doctors told him to stay in a wheelchair, but you know how my family feels about showing any weakness.”

Michael nodded.  He wanted to tell Alex that nothing about him was a weakness—especially the things he couldn’t control, and the things he worked hard to deal with—regardless of what his fucking family implied, but he didn’t know if he could start that conversation and have it end with Flint still upright.  

An older man dressed in black pulled up to them and gripped Alex’s arm in a way that was probably meant to be kind, but Michael could see Alex’s barely-there flinch.  “I’m so sorry for your loss, son,” the man said gruffly.

“Thank you,” Alex replied in a monotone.  The older man let go of his arm, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past them.  Alex swallowed, breathing shallow, tense breaths.  Michael’s hand twitched with the need to reach out, to comfort, to let Alex know that he was both not alone and doing as well as anyone could expect. 

“Do you want to step outside or something?” Michael offered quietly, not sure if he wanted Alex to take him up on it or not, not sure if leaving this room would offer solace or just the collapse from the effort it was taking Alex to keep his facade up.  “Just to breathe for a minute?”

Alex nodded, uncomfortably, almost reluctantly.  He glanced towards a window, the clusters of people spilling out into the yard.  “Not outside.”  He hesitated, and then started walking towards another part of the house.  

Michael wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow, or if Alex just wanted space from everything, including him—not that he’d blame him—and he hesitated, finally taking a sip of the beer, which was now lukewarm and bitter.  Alex turned quickly, looking at Michael over his shoulder, beckoning him forward with just the look in his eyes.  Michael knew that look, that intense, sad, tortured look that meant that Alex was on the edge of doing something he was afraid of, something he wanted.  Maybe it was just leaving the room, the wake, that felt wrong and disallowed.  Maybe it was something else.  Michael set his beer down on the windowsill and followed him.  

They walked into a little hall with several doors leading off of it, all of them shut.  Alex pulled one open and looked over his shoulder again, making sure Michael would follow him in.  Michael looked around him before he did, but no one had followed them, no one had noticed Alex walking away, and if they had it probably seemed natural that the family would need to take some time, some moments away periodically.  

Alex waited until Michael was inside the room, and then closed the door again behind them.  They were in a small room with the blinds drawn, darkness and shadows enveloping them.  Michael could just make out a small bed in one corner, and an empty guitar stand in another.  

Michael couldn’t really see Alex, but he could hear Alex breathing, taking big gulps of air that didn’t seem to be making it all the way to his lungs.  Michael reached out blindly, one of his hands connecting with Alex’s shoulder, and pulled him into a crushing hug.  To Michael’s surprise, Alex let himself be pulled, his arms wrapping around Michael instead of stretched out to stop the contact the way Michael had expected.  Alex took a great, shuddering breath and Michael could feel it on his neck, and the closeness of it took him almost by surprise, his stomach swooping with how much he missed this, even though he was determined not to admit that to himself, and now wasn’t the time to start.  

They stayed there for a long moment, just holding onto each other and breathing.  Michael ran his hand up Alex’s back in what he hoped was a soothing motion, finally curling it against the nape of his neck.  Alex’s breath shuddered again and Michael could feel the warm wet sensation of a tear falling against his shoulder.  He didn’t make a comment, certain that Alex would not want to admit that he was crying, wouldn’t want it pointed out.  

Michael could do this, he could be there for Alex now, even if part of him knew that he was just a warm, familiar body; even if part of him knew that this was only okay because they were in the dark, hidden from everyone else and from themselves.  Alex sniffed and Michael’s hand tightened instinctively against Alex’s neck, protective, even as he shivered from the wet drip on his own neck.  

Alex laughed wetly.  “Sorry, I’m—” he pulled away a little bit, running his hand over Michael’s shoulder like he could wipe away the tearstained spot, “Shit.  Sorry.”

Michael grasped Alex’s hand, stopping the semi-frantic motion and just holding it against his chest.  “Don’t apologize.”

Alex sniffed.  “Yeah.  This is all just…harder than I thought it would be.”

Michael nodded, even though Alex certainly couldn’t see it, when all he could see of Alex’s expression was the white of his eyes.  He understood.  It wasn’t about Alex’s father, the fucking asshole, it was just being here, being forced into this role of dutiful son over and over, when Alex still bore the scars proving how useless it was even to pretend.  It was too much to ask of anyone, and especially of Alex, who only ever wanted to love people, and who kept getting disappointed.  Michael swallowed uneasily.  He knew he was one of the disappointments—maybe not to the same level as Alex’s father, but still.  He suddenly realized he probably shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be forcing Alex to turn to him when there were other options. 

“Where’s Forrest?” Michael asked, his stomach churning as he said it, not really wanting to hear the answer.  If that guy had already disappointed Alex, too, Michael didn’t care what Alex said about forgiveness, he was going to kick the guy’s ass.  “Thought he’d be here.”

“I told him not to come,” Alex replied, like it was obvious.  “I knew I wasn’t going to be at my best today, didn’t want to scare him off.”

The answer made anger flare through Michael, the idea that Alex would be scared of showing a moment of weakness to his probably boyfriend at his fucking abusive asshole dad’s wake, the idea that anyone would allow Alex to keep them away when he so obviously needed the support.  Michael hated being here, in this house, but it would have taken an act of god to keep him away from Alex today, because he knew it would be hard, and he knew Alex would try to push everyone away, and he knew what he would want if it were him in Alex’s position.  He would want not to be left alone, even if he’d asked for just that.

“If this is enough to scare him away,” Michael started, and Alex quickly interrupted.  

“That’s not—I just mean, I want to seem like a good partner.  He doesn’t need to see all the skeletons, not yet.”

Michael frowned.  “I saw your skeletons right away, and I’m still here.”  It wasn’t quite what he wanted to say, and he could tell by the way Alex started to pull back that it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear either.  

“Yeah, and look how great we’ve done,”  Alex said, and his wry laugh sounded wet again, like he’d started crying even though Michael couldn’t hear any other evidence of it.  

Michael gripped Alex’s hand more tightly, pulled him forward enough that he could run his hand along the side of Alex’s face.  He shouldn’t be doing this, any of this, he’d made his decisions and Alex had made his decisions, and they shouldn’t be standing in a dark room with Michael’s hands anywhere on Alex’s skin.  And yet.  

“Not because of this,” Michael said, firmly.  “Not because of you, not because…look, if this is enough to scare him away, then he doesn’t deserve you.”  

Alex laughed, and it sounded sad, and grateful, and Michael knew they wouldn’t be having any of this conversation in the light, not even a little bit.  He wondered if Alex had known that when he’d led Michael in here and not bothered to turn on the lights.  Like if it happened in the dark, then it didn’t count.  Like they were outside of time.  

“This used to be my room,” Alex said abruptly, leaning his cheek against Michael’s hand, the words hitting Michael’s hand with little puffs of air.  

Michael looked around more carefully now, even though he still couldn’t see anything.  He’d never been in Alex’s room, because the shed had been the safe place until it wasn’t, and then nowhere in this house had been safe, and Michael had lost any reason for coming by.  Until right now.  “Really?”

“Yeah, me and Flint.  He got the bigger room when he came back, when I was still overseas.”  He laughed wryly.  “I stayed here a few times, in between tours, when I needed a place to go and my father still thought…anyway.”  He took a deep breath, still leaning into Michael’s touch, his lips almost touching Michael’s palm.  “I’m surprised he left it like this.  I thought he would have turned it into a storage room or something by now.”

Michael heard the words under that—the idea that Alex’s father hadn’t thought that he hated Alex, he’d thought he was saving Alex, that there was enough of a Manes deep inside of Alex that he kept Alex’s room set up, like Alex would walk in one day and proclaim that he was done with everything he loved, that he was a brand fucking new person in the bigot-shaped ideal of his father.  It was bullshit, or if not, then it was manipulative as hell.  Michael wanted to slam his fist through every wall of this house.  He wanted to tear it apart, piece by piece, until it was dust and mud and splinters, until there was nothing left.  So that Alex never had to step foot inside here again. 

“We can destroy this room, after everyone leaves,” Michael offered carefully.  “Just fuck up the bad memories, and you’d never have to see it again.”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me one reason why not.”

Alex hesitated, and then leaned away from Michael’s hand and tugged his hand forward, moving their hands away from Michael’s chest.  At first Michael thought he was trying to escape completely from Michael’s grip, but his fingers were knit between Michael’s, and he didn’t seem to be trying to pull them free.  Just to pull Michael towards the other side of the room.   “I don’t know if it’s still here…”

Michael took a step after him, then pulled back, making Alex stop.  “What?”

Alex was much closer than Michael expected, enough that Michael could feel him, could feel the electricity between them.  He kind of thought that would never fade, now, regardless of who else they were with, or what they were doing.  There would always be this thing between them, and right now it felt safe, and comforting, and familiar.  

“Just trust me,” Alex said quietly, and Michael answered “okay,” immediately.

Alex resumed pulling him towards the other wall, pausing briefly to tug open what must be a closet.  Alex pushed aside the few hanging pieces of old, mothball-scented clothing, yanking Michael after him.  Alex pressed Michael against the back wall of the closet softly, then reached out and pulled the door closed behind them, closing them into the small, dusty space.  

“What—?”  Michael couldn’t see at all, just feel the vague shapes of the hanging clothes.  He felt Alex pulling him down and realized Alex had sunk to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall.  “Pushing me back into the closet, huh?” 

Alex laughed quietly, tugging on Michael’s hand until Michael gave in and slid down the wall, wondering what the fuck they were doing, and how much he was going to regret it.  Michael felt a soft brush against his hand, and he couldn’t tell if it was something hanging in the closet or Alex’s lips, and he didn’t want to ask, afraid of how he would react to the answer.  

“Look up,”  Alex said, and Michael tipped his head back against the wall and looked up at the top of the closet.  

At first, he wasn’t sure what they were.  But then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that they were stars.  Hundreds of those tiny, glow-in-the-dark star stickers, spread out across the ceiling, constellations and patterns, all glowing dimly.  There was a moon in one corner, and other random planets scattered around the edges.  

It would have been impossible to see this from outside of the closet, impossible unless you knew to sit by the back wall, to look up in just the right way, past the wooden rod strung across the middle of the closet.  This was something secret, something that was Alex’s, and the fact that it was stars was so perfect, so fitting, that Michael felt himself choke with emotion.  His hand was still tangled with Alex’s on the floor between them, and Michael gripped Alex’s hand fiercely.

“Gregory put them up,” Alex said quietly, like he was afraid to interrupt the moment.  “Before I figured out that I could go out to the shed, I used to hide in here.  He said you could make wishes on stars, so…”

Michael tried to find his voice.  Imagining tiny Alex hiding in a closet, looking up at fake stars and hoping things would change, it made Michael so angry, and so sad, and so fucking grateful that Alex was such a strong person that he’d made it here, to sit with Michael and share this tiny thing that felt immeasurable.  He wanted to tell Alex that he used to run away from his foster homes, that he used to run as far from the house as he could and look up at the sky and wish for someone to come take him home, that they were probably doing the same thing in different places—different circumstances, different stars.  He wanted to tell Alex that none of this was fair or right, and it wasn’t what made Alex strong, but that Alex was strong, that he was important, and perfect, and worthy.  That Michael would take him to see every star if he could.  That Michael would do anything to keep Alex from anyone like his father ever again.  

“I haven’t been in here in so long,” Alex said, “I think I was afraid that it wouldn’t feel the same, but it does, it feels…” he trailed off, searching for the word.  

“Yeah,” Michael said hoarsely, not wanting to hear whatever word Alex had for the way this felt, because he thought that if he did, he might never be able to leave, and that wasn’t a choice he could make right now.  “It does.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”  Alex’s voice was so small, Michael wasn’t even certain he was supposed to hear it.  

“I’ll always be there, if you want me to,” Michael said, and it wasn’t nearly enough, but it was more than he’d said out loud, or at least, more than he’d said before and actually meant it.

Alex hummed and sniffled, and didn’t say anything.  It felt so removed from earlier, from the parade of people who didn’t know the Maneses at all, but who thought they did, who wanted to offer Alex a hand to shake and a bowl of some stupid casserole while the walls tightened in on him.  They sat in silence in the dark with their backs pressed against the wall, staring up at the fake stars, their hands clasped tightly between them, and it felt almost good.

“I should go back out there,” Alex said eventually, after what might have been mere seconds, or might have been hours.  Either way, it wasn’t enough time for a moment Michael wanted to keep.

“Are you sure?”  Michael’s hand ached from holding it so tightly in Alex’s, and he couldn’t have cared less.  He wanted to stay here, in this moment, in the safety of this space that held only ghosts of years past, in the darkness where they could pretend the cracks between them didn’t need so much work to mend.  

“Yeah, they’ll notice.”  Alex sighed and released Michael’s hand, pulling himself forward and twisting the doorknob to open the closet.  Someone had clearly wandered into the room during the time they were sitting there, because the door to the hallway was open, a triangle of light slanting into the room.  

It was like a spell broke, with the light, and whatever had held them together on the floor of the closet was gone.  Michael wanted to grip Alex’s hand again, just to reinforce that it was real, but he couldn’t, there wasn’t space for it anymore, and Alex was standing stock still, rebuilding the armor that he showed to other people.  

Michael followed him into the hallway, and Alex spun around before they reached the main room, looking like he wanted to say something but the words were stuck in his throat.  Before he could say anything, though, Gregory stepped into the hallway, looking as exhausted and worn as Alex did.  

“Thanks for coming,” he said, reaching out to shake Michael’s hand.  Michael felt odd, but he took the offered hand, pulling his own armor back on.  “I know Alex appreciates friendly faces.” 

Alex looked uneasy, but neither of them said anything to correct that statement.  It just hung in the air between the three of them, too much and too little. 

“How are you holding up?”  Michael asked quietly, and Gregory shrugged.  

“We’ve just got to get through today, and then we’re done.  He’s gone, and we’re done, and that’s it.”  

Michael hoped Gregory was telling Alex that over and over, enough for it to really sink in.  This was better—it didn’t feel better yet, but it would be.  Everything would be okay.    

“We should get back in there,” Gregory said, almost apologetically. 

“Yeah.”  Michael hated how awkward this felt.  “Well, thanks for the beer.”

“I’ll be staying in a town for a bit,” Gregory said.  “We’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

Michael looked to Alex, who nodded, almost imperceptibly, but nodded.  “I’m sure you will,” Michael said, more emphatically than he meant to.  

He walked back into the living room with them, and then watched them go off to talk to someone, Gregory’s hand reassuringly on Alex’s shoulder.  Without Alex to talk to, being here felt wrong, and he left after one look back at them, making sure Alex was okay with his brother.  Michael felt strange, wired and exhausted and aching. 

He had forgotten how it felt when things with them just lined up like this, when moments in their separate lives felt connected, like magnets, like planets aligning.  It made Michael feel like he wasn’t making a mistake by staying here.  He’d promised to be around, always, as long as Alex wanted it, and he intended to keep that promise.