#when I ended my store-work days on a really terribly stressful note

[strohller27]

.

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch3 There's Always A Catch When It's Too Good To Be True...But For The First Time Its Not Unpleasant

(MOST of this will be from Gyomei's p.o.v or p.o.vish. I will be describing surroundings for the readers but keep in minc Gyomei can't actually see what the readers are being described. The performance I had in mind was actually something similar to the song below if anyone wants to listen to it.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=98AqvD-Dvgo&pp=ygUXYXBwbGUgYmxvc3NvbXMgc2hhbWlzZW4%3D         )

A number.

Ten Digits across.

You remembered quickly jotting down the ten small numbers of a notepad you thumbled to get out of your purse and shakily wrote everything down he told you with a patient smile on his face. 

You must've been out of your mind for doing this. Agreeing to go on a date right after the worst one of your entire life? Maybe you were that desperate? Or maybe it was the charm and gentlemanly way he had been nice to you that charmed you off your feet enough to agree. If he was nice enough to go through the trouble of making sure a total stranger was ok and returning your purse then he couldn't have been that bad. At the most terrible he'll just be a kind but bland personal to date and it won't work out for you both. You'd much rather have it end that way than the last few dates you've forced yourself to go on. 

You still remembered what Murata's shocked face looked like when you finally opened up the passenger door and sat your still soaked body down in the seat next to him. Wet, smeared make up still half smudged all over your face from where the rain didn't wash it off, covered in dirt, and looking like a food fight had taken place on your dress.

"Oh my God. ..What happened? Are you ok?!"

You have him the most exhausted deadpanned look ever. "What do you think?"

"I think you look like a doll that was dunked underwater."

"Thanks. You really know how to compliment a girl."

He only shrugged before starting up the car and pulling away from the smiling and waving a hand in the direction of the retreating car. Feeling a shy feeling bubble up in your chest as he faded away from view. Face going a light pink.

"Are you running a fever too? Your face is all red."

"No! Just drive me home please."

The comfort of a warm shower and cozy bed was something else so relieving. Letting yourself forget your worries and allow the mind to dwell away in peace. Unfortunately there was no saving your dress as the stains wouldn't come out, and your heels had permanent water damage to them. Oh well. They were both bought from a cheap second hand store anyways so it's not a big loss. 

But the real nerves came from those four small numbers.

The paper accidentally knocked off your bedroom side table and fluttered down on the floor, bumped off when you were cleaning two days later and only noticed when your foot had stepped on top of it. The feeling of paper under your heel caught your attention and found the small note with ten numbers staring up at you.  

A phone number.

GYOMEI'S phone number.

The tiny paper in your hands staring up cheerfully at you as you sat on your bed and stared at the digits. Staring. Unsure. And frankly very nervous. What if he was really busy right now? Or what if someone else was already seeing him because you took so long? Or what if you just accidentally wrote down the wrong number in your stressed state? That'd be embarrassing. However the longer you looked at the paper just pinched between your fingers. Even if he gave you his number, it was probably only because he felt bad about what happened to you and wanted to make you feel better.  He probably wasn't serious...

But..where was the harm in calling?

At worst you'd just be given a no and you'd be getting a possible friend at least! A shaking breath was sucked in through your mouth as you hesitated slightly before reaching out to the phone near your bed and grabbing it. Your hands trembling as they fumbled for the number accidentally typing in a wrong number and having to fix it at least seven times before you were able to get the correct line up of numbers as on the paper. Taking another five minutes you stared at the screen and hesitated again.. before inhaling a deep breath and pressing the dial button with your thumb. Your eyes watched in slight fear and nervousness as it dialed through. And called.

And rang.

And rang. 

And rang.

"Th-This was a bad idea."

You were just about to press the end call button when a sudden sound made you freeze up-

"Yes?"

"Oh!" The paper fell from your grip as you barely managed to not drop the phone in shock. Staring at the calling screen with a frown. "Um..." What do you say?! What do you say?! "..Hello?" Nice. You totally nailed that.

There was a deep few chuckles from the other side making you blush in embarrassment and gulp. "Ah. Ms. Y/n, I was just wondering when I'd receive a call from you."

"Haha. Yes. Sorry for taking so long." You gulped again. "I-I hope I didn't call at a bad time. "

"Not at all!," he reassured you kindly, "I just got out of an interview with a potential new employer, so the timing could not be better." Oh thank goodness. "I assume you are calling about the date I proposed for this Saturday."

"Um. Y-Yes! I um-... D-don't really know where you wanted to meet is all?"

"Ah! Of course! Are you aware of Kimetsu University?"

You rose a brow at that. "The local college?" Yes you knew that place. You worked there AND attended classes there. "Of course. Lots of college students live around here."

"Across the street from the entrance is a small coffee shop. If you aren't allergic to caffeine then perhaps you would like to grab a drink with me that afternoon?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his joke despite the nerves you felt. "I actually know where that is, so that works perfectly! If you don't mind meeting me."

"Og course not. I'm looking forward to this very much. Does noon sound good?"

"Noon sounds perfect! I'll see you then!"

"Of course. I look forward to seeing you."

You thanked him before hanging up and then just flopping down on the bed with a sigh. That took a lot more nerves than you were really expecting but nevertheless it was a good start. A good start but a bad case of nerves. You really didn't want to worry about what would happen within the next three days so you tried to focus on work until then. Putting yourself in autopilot for your classes and at work just cleaning up after little gremlins. 

"Hey, Y/n. Did you know anything about the new hires coming in?"

You glanced up at your coworker, arms full of toys to be put away, confused. "Not really. Just that there was a lot of applications and that they need to sort through them all. Why?"

She rolled her eyes before sighing. "I just hope that they don't hire anyone like Stacy again. She was so lazy and ate all the kid's snacks."

Well you didn't disagree. Stacy was only given the job because her grandfather was a high paying staff member and she needed the credits. Except she was an 'online model' and was more interested in taking selfies in the middle of her shifts and helping herself to the snacks for the kids. She didn't last a whole month before being let go. Since then a lot of other people applied for the position and currently your bosses were combing through them all to pick the best one. You just hoped it wasn't someone like Stacy.  

Oh if you only knew the surprise that'll occur.

Despite your best efforts to keep a calm distracted mind, you still found yourself very nervous sitting in your bedroom and dressing yourself up in something nice. Yeah. Dressing yourself up when you were going on a date with a blind guy might be overkill since he couldn't tell what you looked like but you still wanted to look nice. He at least deserved a decent looking date unlike what you went through. In the end you just settled on a nice white blouse and a pair of black pants, casual but nice looking, after all it was a coffee shop not a high end restaurant. Then it was out the door and the twenty minute walk towards Kimetsu University. 

The day was nice. Warm breezes that rustled through the air and cooled down everyone from the warm sunlight. Meanwhile the sidewalks were full of people of all ages whom walked around enjoying how uncrowded it was with very little cars out making it all the more peaceful. Everyone usually went away on the weekends so that was probably why it was so peaceful right now. Didn't seem like a bad start so far. You hoped it stayed like that. Passing by homes and small random businesses humming a tune to yourself, you eventually got there turning a corner and smelling the upcoming scent of coffee grounds. And-

Ah. Speak of the devil.

And there on the street was just the man you were heading to see.

Gyomei was not an easy man to miss. One would have to be blind themselves in order to miss such a tall man standing just on the edge of the sidewalk, leaned up against the wall to be politely out of peoples' way as they walked up and down the sidewalks to their destinations for the beautiful day. A light worrisome bundle of nerves brewed beneath the heart pounding beneath the surface. Every head tilt towards a fleeting sound of footsteps approaching caused the tiniest bit of hope but then it fizzled right back to worrisome when they were discovered to be not quite right.

No. That was the loud thudding of a large man in working boots. No. Those light taps were too young sounding, probably one of the children that was playing hopscotch up the street had decided to go home. No. Those heels accompanying the sounds of a baby stroller were not right either-

A blink of surprise blank eyes gave when the sounds of a baby, possibly still under a year old, turned up in his direction and giggled in all their innocent delight. That gurgling high pitched giggling only sweet little babies could make. It caused a moment of surprise before a smile accompanied the blind stare that heard the stroller pass by on their way to wherever the mother decided to take them. A small happy feeling in replace of the worry bloomed temporarily.

Until the sounds of what possibly could've been sneakers approached. Hm. Light enough to be a woman's footsteps, and squeaky..So perhaps old sneakers or brand new ones just being broken in. A head turned their direction as they walked from the left side but slowed until coming down to a full stop in front of him. His face tilting. Perhaps someone in awe at the sight of him once more or-

"Hello, Gyomei." The familiarity of the voice caused him to jump in surprise and she quickly held up her hands. "Oh my. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

His face was one of complete surprise for a few seconds before it quickly dispersed into one of happiness and.. relief? With a happy sigh through his nose, a large hand was held up. "No need to apologize. I was just merely caught off guard." He assured her before he used the same arm to gesture towards a nearby doorway. A nearby bell ringing as a man excited with a caramel expressio and walking across the street in front of them all. "Would you like to go inside? It's cooler in there and we can sit and talk."

"Absolutely! That sounds delightful!"

He could literally feel himself starting to sweat, and it wasn't from the warm sun..At least he could use that as an excuse for if she asked. Another silently breath of relief escaped his lungs the moment her footsteps started towards the door with him following behind mindful to not accidentally step of anyone's feet. 

That's all he needed. Stepping on his first real date in nearly a year's feet and risking breaking her foot bones. That'd be such a good impression. 

Luckily by some miracle that didn't happen and he managed to reach out and push the door inwards before she touched it's handle. "Please allow me."

There was a few seconds in her pause that had him worry perhaps he startled her by suddenly reaching past her- "Now aren't you sweet?" Her happy voice piped up as surprised as it was happy. "Thank you!"

It made a relieved smile appear on his face as her footsteps entered followed slowly by his larger slower strides. He had to duck a fair bit just to not let his head smack against the doorframe but luckily the ceiling wouldn't embarrassingly hit him for being too hard.  A tiny bell going off somewhere above him.

Senses were shoved full in activity. From his ears being filled by the sounds of a blender somewhere near but still far, a shuffling of multiple steps against tiled floors, and the murmuring of voices being a few. To his nose inhaling the sweet smells of coffee as to be expected, creamers, and perhaps what was homemade jelly rolls. 

"Gyomei, is that you? I haven't seen your face around here for almost two weeks now!," an older man's voice cut through the air and down towards him. "Did you hear about my new weekend sales and decided to come back?" He jested towards him and made him smile in the relieved familiarity of it all.

A hand was held up. "Not today. I'm here for a more.. romantic aspect." 

"Oh?" He could hear the interest in the man's voice and didn't need to see in order to know that he must've been looking at the woman who was obviously still next to him. "Ooooohh! I see." He got it now. "A girlfriend huh? I haven't seen you with her before so she must be new-"

"Yes." He didn't mean to be rude and interrupt him but he really didn't want to explain a very....out of ordinary part of his life just when they were only getting their first impressions in. "It has been a while since I have been on an outing with anyone. Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking our orders now?"

Please don't make this awkward for him. Not now. Not when he hasn't even had a chance yet. He'll get to that part he promises just don't make him to be a bad thing. 

"But of course! Your usual?"

Another sigh of relief. "Yes please." His head tilted in the direction of the woman next to him with a smile hoping she wouldn't mind actually not looking directly at her as she spoke. "Go ahead and order whatever you'd like. I'll pay."

"Oh no. I can't ask you to do that for me. I'm fine with paying for myself."

He smiled wider. "But you didn't ask. I offered. I would rather pay after everything you experienced last time, to help you make up for it."

"I can afford a small drink. You really don't have to."

"As can I and I insist."

The hesitation was felt greatly in the air. "Well..Alright but just this once."

In the end there was a warm black coffee in his hand, and a much smaller green tea sat in a cute little white teacup in her hands, a just as cute smile on her face as she smiled up at him from the chair she sat in after he pulled it out for her. Once again sensing a round of surprise from her before she called him sweet again, thanked him, and happily sat down with a smile on her face and a nervous smile on his right across from her. The chair he sat in comically small for his height. 

"Thank you again for the drink. I wasn't expecting it."

He gave a small chuckle. "Certainly. I did say that I didn't mind."

She gave a small tilt of her head. "So that man knew you." He paused suddenly. Oh no. Was she about to ask him about the awkward talk!? "Do you come here often then?"

...Oh.

"Not all the time." He visibly relaxed himself slowly. "But a lot of the time I'll stop here for the coffee or my friend will ask me to pick up orders here for her. They serve her boyfriend's favorite ohagi and they're often too busy to stop and get it themselves."

"Oh. I've actually made ohagi before. It's one of my favorite recipes!"

Oh right! "That's right. You mentioned that you studied pastry arts didn't you?"

"Yes that's right! But only partially. I'm thinking about changing my major or taking a different course once I graduate from the first course. Maybe it's cliche for a woman like me to say this but I love cooking! I used to bake all the time with my grandmother."

"Does that mean you attend Kimetsu University?" His head tilted at her interested. 

"Yes! But most of my courses are online minus the cooking classes I take in person. I actually work there. Do you know the small daycare on campus?" He hummed a yes in response making her continue. "I actually work there."

That caught him by surprise, stopping the cup that nearly made contact with his lips for a sip. His eyes widening and blinking. "The daycare?"

"Uh huh. I help watch the kids while their parents are taking classes. Kimetsu University in the only college I know of that provides childcare for their own students. Why? Is...that a problem?" Her nervous look was only relieved when he slowly smiled widely. 

"Not at all." He lowered his cup until it made contact with the table with a small thud. Well, well, well. What a surprising turn of events. "Do you.. like children?"

"I love children! I want to have a family of my own one day but for now I love working in the daycare."

The surprise smacked him hard in the face enough to leave him dumbstruck for a long moment staring at nothing but holding his drink. Blinking he slowly nodded and hummed. He heard that before but he really always had gotten the same answer silently from people who he had been out with whether upfront or implied by tones.

'Yes. I'd love to have children someday...Just not with you.'

It always hurts that knowledge. But at the same time he couldn't really blame someone for their answer when they see him. 

"I'm sorry. Was that a bit too much?"

He hummed blinking again. "Ah. No! No no no." She blinked surprised when he nervously held up his hands. "It's wonderful to want to have a family some day, so do I. We have that much in common." Slowly they lowered until they felt the cold feel of the wooden table between them. "Bu-But back to the University. *ahem* What year are you?"

"I'm about to finish up my first semester of college actually. It'll be my second year when the next semester comes. What of you, Mr. Himejima? Do you attend the school?"

"Yes. Are you surprised?" 

"A little bit. Are you a professor? I don't think I've ever seen you teach a class, not any I've attended at least."

"Uh?" A professor? Him? A teacher? "Pfft. Haha. No. I'm not a teacher."

Her pretty face scrunched up in a pout. "What's so funny?"

"I mean no disrespect." He chuckled more a few more times holding his chin. "You surprise me. I've never been mistaken for a teacher before however-" He pointed a finger up smiling widely. "-I am studying to become one."

There was now silence from him as he was expecting her to be surprised processing the fact that he cou-

"Oh that's wonderful!" Her hands made a little clap sound as she put them together. "What subject do you wanna teach?"

....

.......

"What?"

"I said what subject do you want to teach? Like maybe art or music- My friend's uncle teaches health classes for a highschool on the other side of the coast."

"N-No. I heard you perfectly fine." The hands were held up again whilst still on the table.. however they slowly lowered once more as his brows furrowed in confusion. "Aren't you.. surprised with the fact that I attend classes? Or that I want to become a teacher?"

"No not really. A lot of people work to become educators. Why would I be surprised if you want to be one?" She brought the cute teacup to her lips.

"Because..I am.." 

Blind.

There's no sugar coating around it. He was blind and that's why a lot of people decided that things weren't going to work out between them. A big part of it actually. They're always surprised when they hear he attends classes and actually wants to become a teacher. One woman even accused him of lying and hit him below the belt saying someone like him couldn't possibly become a teacher-

"Now why would I think such a rude thing like that?" Her soft voice cut through his temporary stupor through past memory street and he blinked widely at her direction. "Anyone can study for the career they want. If someone else has told you you can't, then they're the ones who are truly blind."

There was silence.

A very shocked silence as nothing but the usual hustle and bustle of the shop around them continued with people walking around him and going about their business drinking, working, watching the TV that was currently broadcasting the news (something about a famous fashion stylist retiring for good).  A long sip was taken from her teacup as he continued to start in utter shock and awe.

She must've noticed his long silence because she opened an eye to peer at him. "Gyomei, are you alright? You're letting your coffee go cold."

"Um..Yes." He slowly nodded. One hand making a couple grab motions in the thin air she watched before finally grabbing his cup once again. "I am just.. surprised is all. I do not get that many positive responses."

"Huh. Well I suppose I should put a break in that cycle." She smiled wider at him. "What course are you taking?"

...A smile slowly spread across his face replacing the surprised feeling from earlier. "I'm working towards a bachelor's degree in a social studies discipline however I'm taking a leap year off before I attempt my final semester to work and save up money to help pay off those student loans."

"Oh! So you're going to be a civics teacher!"

"That's right! You got it right on the first guess!"

He couldn't remember the last time someone actually engaged with him so...normally. He did not once sense a rude, condescending, or doubtful tone. Not a single time. Not when he told her about his experiences during his three years studying and taking classes. Not when he told her his favorite hobbies. Not even when a very obvious turn off for most people was literally staring her right in the face. Or-..Wait. does it still count as staring if the person looking at you was blind? He wasn't sure, but she didn't once point it out of bring it up. If anything he was the one who was thinking about it as a topic.

But-

"Hmhmhm. Did that really happen? You must really love kids."

He told her the embarrassing moment a child had mistaken him as a ghost during a Halloween party and then proceeded to beg him to do cool 'ghost tricks' which was asking him to pick him up while invisible so everyone would think he was flying. The heartbreak on the child's face when he politely explained he wasn't in fact a spirit and couldn't levitate him. Mitsuri had thought it was the most precious thing and always told the story at least once every few months. 

Her giggles sent a pitch through his heart beats and a heat lit up his cheeks a pink as he stared far away yet so close. "*ahem* W-Well I-..I guess one such as myself should b-be used to such M-mi-missunderstandings."

"You're so lovable that when a little boy thought you were a ghost, he asked you to make him fly instead of getting scared. That's the cutest thing I've ever heard!"

"Oh g-goodness." He mumbled a hand pressing to his face, it felt hot but his reaction only made her giggle more. 

"How sweet.~"

"Y-You are really too kind."

"No. You are. This has been the best date I've ever been on! And I mean that genuinely. I can't remember the last time anyone just wanted to sit down and talk so much, and I can't remember the last person who was so kind to me." He jolted as a soft hand gently grabbed his remaining one. "Thank you."

There was a split second of surprised silence from him. Only one second because quickly his face exploded from a pink to a deep cherry red and his hand pressed further into his face. 

"Are you blushing?" He shook his head no- "Yes you are! That's so adorable!"

"Oh..g-goodness. I'm af-fraid you caught me offg-guard."

And her giggles were not helping either. "I'm sorry. That was probably too forward." She slowly let go of his hand leaving him to slowly clench it shut, warm from where she touched him. "But I really do mean it. Thank you. It has been a really good date. The best one I've ever had! Maybe ..you wouldn't mind going on another one soon?"

He cleared his throat before speaking up again, a hopeful tinge to his voice along with surprise. "Another with me? Are you certain?" She hummed yes making him smile again. Her face went surprised as he gestured back towards the door. "Then perhaps this time we can have dinner together?"

"Oh..Oh I'd love that!" Once again her hands clapped together. "I'm free next Friday night actually...Say. Do you like shamisen performances?"

He hummed but nodded. "I have heard the instrument before yes. Why?"

"There's these performers in the University's drama department. They're putting on a free show involving traditional dances and there's this duo who's going to play the shamisen and sing together. I thought maybe we could listen to it together?"

Surprise. She wanted to go to a show. With him. ..His face melted into the softest of smiles. "I would like that very much. It'd be an honor to attend a show with you." 

He could practically feel the bright smile on her face as they stood on the sidewalk and spoke good-byes to one another in the warm light. Her holding a hand. One palm big enough to hold both her small ones.

"Would you like me to walk you home?"

She shook her head no. "No it's ok. I only live twenty minutes away. I can handle that part." Her tiny hands gave him a slightly tighter squeeze. "But I appreciate the gesture. I'll see you this Friday?"

"Count on it. I look forward to our next date."

They're next date. HIS second date! He can't remember the last time he actually was on a second date let alone being the one asked to go on said second date. His heart pounded at the prospect of actually going out to a literal dinner and a show as cheesy and cliche as that sounds. She bid him good bye and thanked him for the drink one last time before departing from him waving goodbye to one another even if he couldn't see it himself, only hearing the slow disappearance of her footsteps until they were no more merging into the background noise behind him. 

And then there was a ringing noise disturbing the euphoria of his happiness. 

And it rang and rang. Snapping him out of his happy stupor and causing him to pat down his body until he fished out a phone from his pocket and held it up to his head. "Hello?"

"HHHeeyy, Big Guy," a man's voice sing songed out of the phone and into his ear.

A sigh escaped him but he smiled nonetheless. "Tengen. Aren't you supposed to be working on a project?" 

"Yeah but Suma missed me so it sorta just turned into us ordering in pizza."

"You spoil her whims too often. You know Makio and Hinatsuru are going to be very upset with you when they find out."

"No worries. I'll just pull an all nighter and finish the project in no time!"

"Uh huh. And do tell exactly how many times have they made you do it?" One time with Makio literally standing right behind him with a scowl for four hours until he finished a project.

"..... Don't mock me." He couldn't help but chuckle knowing the man on the other side was pouting. "I didn't call you about my homework! How did the date go? If it's a bust you can totally come over and hang with us. It's been a while since the three of us just had a movie night."

"As tempting as that is, I cannot. I have a second interview tomorrow and need the rest but the date was rather well. She invited me to go to the University's show this Friday."

A pause. "Wait. Seriously?! You're gonna go out again?! Ok. What kind of flashy magic did you pull to do that? I can't even Sanemi to pose for me."

"You've asked him to pose shirtless for you. Of course he's going to be flustered."

"Oh like we all haven't already seen him shirtless before at the dam pool! He just doesn't want to sit still so I can paint his pretty face. But seriously? You're really going out again? With the same girl?'

"Yes. She's actually rather polite."

"Dam, Dude! See? Kanae was right when she said you'd find the right one eventually."

"I suppose so..We still need to get to know one another better."

Another pause. "..Oh..So like you haven't told her about the whole-"

"Not yet. That's not really a first date conversation topic."

"Shit man. When are you going to say something?"

"I want to see how the second date goes and depending on the outcome, I'll tell her after dinner. Do not worry about me. I have enough of that for myself to do."

He was frightened for sure. A long time to be frightened when you have a to wait nearly six days for his next date. Perhaps it was because he was fearing that deep down she was only being nice to let him down gently or doing it as some way to repay him for the help he gave her back at the restaurant nearly two weeks ago now. He felt so bad for her when that sorry excuse of a man had the gull to pull such disgusting actions towards her.

She had been very polite up to the point that he nearly shoved her out of her own chair. He remembered feeling the back of her chair literally being shoved back into his when he pushed everything forward only to turn around and vomit all over the floors. The sounds enough alone were able to draw a few tears from his eyes. Those poor employees. The poor owner. The poor people having to witness everything. 

But most of all poor her. No kind woman should be treated like that. 

Call him a bit of a romantic type, but he did take a bit of a gamble offering to take her out. He was surprised when she agreed to it and the end result couldn't have been happier. And more worried. Did he come on too strong? Did he make her feel forced in order to pay him back? 

"You're overthinking everything, Mei." The black haired man leaning against his right side all cuddled up had bluntly told him, one hand holding up a treat to a pretty white snake. "Just relax and don't let those thoughts make you feel bad."

"I just do not know. What if she finds me to be..How do you say? Not to her liking?"

"Who wouldn't like you?" A woman with pretty pink eyes and butterflies pinned in her hair stuffed a nice warm drink into his hands. "You're respectful and smart and incredibly thoughtful! If she's the one who asked you for another date then you've made a really good impression!"

"Hm. I suppose so." The warm cup did little to ease the cold lump of worry and guilt sitting in his stomach. 

He didn't even call her to know what time to meet up or where to meet. That was stupid on his part. It was just a gamble of waiting for her by the entrance to the University and just standing there unable to hear her footsteps amongst the throngs of others in the late afternoon and hoping she didn't want to meet up somewhere else.  By now the sun was about twenty minutes away from starting to set and someone had giving a tug on his sleeve.

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside and wait with us?"

"Yeah! The performance is going to be flamboyant I heard. You can sit by me and let Suma sit on your shoulders."

He held up a hand. "No. I'd better not. It would be wrong of me to interrupt you fours' date night and it would be much to rude to just turn it into a double date without asking her. You go enjoy your night and I'll see you all later."

The familiar touch and voices left, leaving him there standing by himself and once again lost in the sea of sounds unable to decipher the one who'd might not even come tonight-

"Gyomei!" He jumped. Tilting his head to the right wide eyed as a smaller figure yelled up at him with a smile. "I knew it was you! I'm so sorry I'm late. I had to help my mother with some errands and lost track of time. "

He could hardly believe it. She was here. She was actually here. A wide grin peered down to her. "No need to apologize. I'm just glad you made it in time. S-Shall we go inside and get seated?"

He was once again taken by surprise when she wrapped an arm around his and nodded. "Absolutely! I was looking forward to this all week!" 

It was one small tug that nearly made him trip with a stumble but he could've sworn her grip felt like a hundred horses pulling him along. Almost falling into people as he allowed himself to be clung onto by the arm like an actual couple. It sent a shock of surprise on his face and a smile to his face.

"You must be very excited to see this," he noted.

"I'm more excited to see what you think of the music!"

"Haha! I'm sure it'll be beautiful."

They had ended up taking seats in the very back at his insistence to avoid him awkwardly blocking the view of anyone wanting to see the show with his unusual height. He wasn't sure how many people were exactly in the University's theater with them, but with the wave of voices and footsteps around him he could guess it was quite a bit. The steps were stilled and the voices slowing to quiet as the first few beats of a drum were played, and the echoes of dancing long since passed down were summoned.

~~

"Did you like the performance?"

"I did. That singer is a very talented woman. I would not be surprised if she became a famous singer when she graduated."

"Well we can brag that we liked her music before she was famous."

The soft glows of the street lights and the lights from buildings casted onto the streets as the stars and moon shown just as bright in the skies above. He smiled down in the direction of the woman's voice, walking uncharacteristically slower as to not accidentally rush her into trying to keep up with his strides.  A grasp on his left arm reminded him of that task. She hadn't left even after the show ended. Holding his hand in a way that had his normally calm face a pink. 

"So do you still want to have dinner with me?"

"I'd still love to have dinner with you! Where did you want to go? This time I'll buy something for you."

"Heh. You don't have to."

"Well I want to! You paid for my last two meals, I'm paying for this one to make up for it. Just pick wherever you want to go!"

"Well..There is a nice little cafe just a street down from us if you don't mind that."

"That sounds great actually. I don't mind at all."

She might not mind now but what would she think when or if he told her after? He felt that oozing feeling again. The guilty one that clawed the inside of his stomach and leaking into his conscious as he lead her to the tiny establishment of foods and smelling the familiar mouth watering dinners. Didn't sound like too many people were around them tonight which was both a comfort and a relief. The feeling still didn't go away when he forced himself to sit down and smile through the awkward ordering of a random cheap sandwich from the waitress. And certainly it didn't go away when he was brought back out of his own thoughts.

"Gyomei?"

"Huh?" He blinked not able to see the confused look on the woman's face.

"I asked what you do for work. Are you ok? You seem distracted."

"O-Oh. Yes. I am fine." A lie. He knew he looked nervous and guilty and possibly was sweating. "I-I work at the nearby shelter but currently I'm looking for a different job."

"..Are you sure you're alright? You're acting nervous when you were alright just a few minutes ago. Is something..wrong?"

Did she do something wrong?

"N-No! I mean yes! Yes as in I'm perfectly fine but no nothing's wrong. I'm just..well there's something that has been bothering me. Im just not sure what you're reaction would be if I told you."

"Oh. Was it something I said?"

"Nonononono!" He quickly held up his hands and clarified in a panic. "You did nothing wrong I swear! It has nothing to do with you even! I'm just-..Well I mean to say.." He sighed. Long and hard through his nose defeated. Head hung in the knowing embarrassment and the hate that'll always come from it. This was eventually going to happen anyways so might as well get the heartbreaking rejection over with. "The truth is that you see.." He couldn't even steer his head in her direction as he uttered the next words. "I am..s-seeing other people."

There was quiet between them for a moment as she blinked.

"Oh. Well that's perfectly fine. I mean this is only our second date and we aren't in a relationship. Going on dates with other people isn't really anything new."

"No. You misunderstood what I meant. I didn't mean I'm 'seeing other people ' as in going on dates. I meant I'm seeing other people as in I am romantically involved with them." Again there was silence as he felt the eyes staring at him from across the table. "I-I don't mean that I'm cheating or have multiple affairs going on! Please don't think I'm such a man who'd stoop to such terrible things!" He quickly said. "It's just that...I am.."

Here it comes. Again another bout of screaming calling him disgusting or abnormal. Or rejection In the worst way calling him some name like cheater or player. Maybe even a slap across the face as she stormed out and away never to be seen again.

"*sigh* I am polyamourus. My partners are as well, however I do not have an actual significant other and due to other factors you can clearly see that has made my dating life very how you say... impractical and difficult for a lot of people when I first tell them."

There was more silence. And more silence. And more silence. So much silence that he thought she already had snuck away and left him there-

"Oh...Well it's definitely not the worst thing someone's told me on a date."

...He blinked. And blinked again. Slowly processing her words. "What?"

"Uh huh. Someone telling me they're poly is actually pretty normal compared to what happened to me two weeks ago."

"You mean-? I-" He pointed at her. "You're not disgusted or at the very least put off?"

"Well let's see. You didn't scream at me, get drunk, surprise me with scams or that you were actually married with a baby, certainly didn't ghost me, and out of everyone else I've ever dated actually treated me with respect. Hm...So where is the thing that I'm supposed to be disgusted by?"

"The part where I am seeing other people as we sit here?"

"Well let's see again. Do they know you're going out with people?"

"Of course."

"And are they ok with that?"

"Perfectly."

"And is your relationships with those other people consenting and mutual?"

"I wouldn't be in said relationships if we weren't."

"Then I see no problem with it. You've been very open and honest with me about it instead of trying to hide it so I don't see anything wrong with it. In fact I'm more flattered you chose to tell me."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. So casually. So polite. So...unphased by it all. 

"So you're not surprised by it at all?"

"Oh no. I definitely am surprised but when you have so many bad experiences like I have, this really isn't a bad surprise. A surprise definitely but not a bad one."

He couldn't stop staring. He couldn't believe it.

"So how many partners do you have?"

"I-..E-Eleven?"

"Oh my. That's quite a few people."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not really. I'd like to meet them sometime."

Gyomei.exe has stopped working.

He slowly blinked. So slowly he could've been mistaken as a robot as he stared widely. Processing the words from her lips. "You..want to..meet them?"

"I'd love to meet them one day! If you care about them then they must be very wonderful people."

Gyomei did not move. Did not speak. Only staring in awed surprised blankly at the smiling woman in front of him. The silence kept up the more he sat there until he held up a hand. 

"Actually I think I can arrange that. Do you mind if I go place a call very quickly?"

[mindylichtman]

Hey people are coming home if I have an update for y'all today. Last couple days I've spotted out and about once or twice what could have been the gentleman's motor home that I spoke of highly before, the guy named bob. Now what happened and the reason why I didn't really wave or walk up to it the two times on the two different days I've seen it out and about almost up close, is I was actually playing it cool. I figured that it if he wanted to greet me, he would have made the first move. I always prefer that he made the first move and all the years that I know him and also in the light of what had happened last year with my ex slandering me almost all of last year.

I mean, somehow my name got cleared I guess some people found out the truth or something somehow, or just automatically cleared by itself. But I don't need to take any action that could be misconstrued as something terrible and ruin all the work over all this time it went into getting my name cleared of the lies that was said about me all last year.

And I'm pretty sure that if she wanted to come up to me that badly and me and him hang out when I'm not busy and I don't have my landlord being an a******, Bob would have definitely made the first move so to speak.

Now I also have to keep in mind that even though it is a leprechaun motorhome, and it looks close to what Bob always was driving, that doesn't mean that it's either his motorhome, or that he still owns it. I mean, I still haven't forgotten about it because him in that motorhome went together like peanut butter and jelly all the years that I've known him. But a lot could have happened to him since the last time we spent time together in that motorhome near the end of 2022.

I mean, that night me and him happened to run across each other in the public's parking lot all the way back in january, he didn't even run across me in the motorhome. He ran across me in some sedan that I never remembered him coming up to me before in.

But, also here's hoping that the door to that didn't entirely close.

Another note, people on Facebook also seem to think that I was accusing this night time shop or that would come in about 2-3 days a week and evenings of being a tracker, tracking me down for my Uncle William. He's not really my uncle, he's the uncle of the guy I broke up with in the end of 22 that calls my miscarriage.

Actually about a couple months ago, when I made the post about someone cracking me down, it was another guy entirely. He shops more in the daytime. And the say that I was hanging out at the green bench listening to my music in that, the guy goes into the store that day. And by that night Uncle William comes to my line later when I'm cashiering and wants to know what happened to Tracy.

I always knew that guy was set up there by the ex of 2022 because he apparently has ties to several different parts of the family.

See, I don't mean to sound cold-hearted but whatever my acts of 2022 that calls my miscarriage got up to after we broke up, that's not my problem. It has literally nothing to do with me. And that's what happens, when you call such a scenario which someone in your life tells you that they're done and then they leave you, and then on top of that, you go slander them off for half of a f****** year after that, you don't get to have that person back. For starters, it's called having self-respect for yourself, and number two is the following trust issues. He played head games with me on Facebook which led up to my miscarriage, and the guys name is Tracy. Tracy played head games with me to the point where I got so stressed out that I miscarried what would have been his kid. I cannot no longer trust him not to do something like this again, or maybe even worse.

Over the years, the gentleman I know named Bob is showing me time and time again he is worthy of the steam, he's a keeper and he showed me repeatedly that he definitely can be trusted 100%.

[beautifulbuckys]

Can’t Stay Away (3)

PART 2

George Weasley x Reader

George shoved a mouthful of egg into his mouth. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other, Potter.” The small red crest sitting on the breast of George’s robes complimented the ginger hair that sat on his head. People liked to tease the Weasleys. Many joked they didn’t make it into Gryffindor for their bravery. Rather, their genetic carrot tops.

I pressed my lips together tightly. “I guess so.”

Warnings: Angry/protective brother Harry, some swearing, cheeky George!!!

The week before school began was nothing but stressful. Molly and Arthur found themselves running around the Burrow, Hogsmede, and Diagon Ally almost daily. Charlie and Bill visited for a few days to wish everyone a successful school year. I’d found myself quite on edge. Every year, without fail, something terrible happened to Harry. I’d chosen to speak to him about it 2 days after we all went school shopping.

“Harry,” I sighed. Both of us were early risers. Ginny always joked we rose with the sun, usually complaining about it with her pillow over her face. Harry had noted Ron complained too, but he never took Ron seriously due to the dry drool that crusted on the corner of his mouth. “Listen. We’ve been through a lot. You’ve been through a lot. I know lately, things have been hectic. The Burrow is basically our home, the Weasleys are the closest we have to family. Something horrible happens to you every school year. I just want to let you know I’m here for you. I really want to provide the support you need,” I shared over the dining table. We sat and drank tea together once we woke up. We considered it our ‘sibling bonding’ time. 

Harry rubbed his sleep-ridden eyes. “Oh, um, yeah. I know you’re here for me. I also know you’re trying really hard. I notice how late you stay up with Ron and I so I can get high marks. You stay outside in the grueling sun to make sure you can help Molly put food on the table. I hope you know I notice all the work you put in to making me feel normal,” 

I smiled. It felt good to be recognized. 

“I really appreciate that, Harry. While we’re on the topic,” I spent a solid 10 minutes pitching therapy towards Harry. There was some initial resistance on this end. He feared trying to mask his problems to a muggle therapist. However, I had done some research and discovered wizard councilors Harry could speak to. Once I disclosed that to my brother, he has on board. I promised I’d iron out the details with Dumbledore when we returned back to Hogwarts. 

The conversation covered Harry’s traumas, triggers, and fears in the future. He smiled as we discussed his future, and how I want to set him up for success physically as well as emotionally. The smile quickly faded from his pale face when he watched me lift my mug to take a sip of the tea I had prepared. 

“What’s that?”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s what?” Harry pointed to the small purple and brown ring that wrapped around my wrist. “Oh, that? Nothing. Doesn’t even hurt!” I exclaimed. To further prove my point, I pushed my finger into it with my other hand. Okay, maybe that was a lie, as I winced slightly when the pressure found its placement. Harry didn’t see George and I exchange in the store like Ron did. George and I pretended nothing happened. We silently agreed to just move on. 

“Who did that?” Harry’s face was completely serious. 

“Who did what?” A small red-headed figure found themselves in the kitchen. It was Ron. Oddly enough, Ron was a morning person. He was usually the first to wake up after Harry and me. He claimed he loved listening to the birds' chirp from the woods in the morning. Ron called it his natural alarm clock. 

“That.” Harry’s thin finger pointed at my wrist. Well, if Ron told the truth I’d be deep in shit trying to explain why George was rough with me. And not in the fun way. 

Ron walked up closer to the table to examine. He paused, glancing at my wrist for a moment. Before speaking, “Oh. That was George. She and I were talking and George got kinda mad. Bugger dragged her out of the book store by her wrist. I could tell he had a strong grip, her skin was turning a yellowy-wite because of it,” Harry whipped his head back towards me, as he was looking at Ron while he recalled the happenings of the other day. 

“That bloody fucke-” Harry started. 

Thus, for the past week, my brother has been giving George Weasley the side eye and everyone was confused. Everyone except for Ron and I. However, I wanted to shake it off. Besides, George and I had that mutual…silent agreement to move on. That’s all I wanted to do. Move on. Sure. 

The first two days of school at Hogwarts were chaotic. A whopping 126 new kids were sorted into Gryffindor. All the Weasleys’ lost their minds, siting it as a new record since my class. However this new influx of prepubecent wizards caused for a lot of drama. People were already dating, fueding, friending, and many other verbs ending in -ing that I didn’t want to know about. The large class sizes reflected in the busyness of the Great Hall. Hundreds of first years were running around in their new house robes mingling. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be rolling my eyes. Yet, I remember what it was like. I pictured myself in their places. It felt like yesterday when I met Fred and George during the sorting ceremony. Look at us now!

The third morning was filled with lots of complaining. Ginny’s new dormmates were whiney and in love with Harry. Harry can’t seem to find a moment of peace (per usual). Ron and George insisted that the common room was filled with shoulder-to-shoulder traffic. Fred can’t stand Dionne Hawkins, a Ravenclaw who’d be in his astronomy class. 

Classes. I’d forgotten about classes. The schedules had been passed around the Great Hall during this dining period. Pieces of yellowed parchment were flying through the air. Or students got their schedules the lamer way, handed to them by their head of house. I peered uo above me, to notice the large piece of paper headed straight for my plate of biscuts and bacon. 

“Anythin’ good? I know they been addin’ classmate names to the list,” Ron peeked at Harry’s parchment, speaking while chewing. If we were back at the burrow, Molly would’ve chastized him. Harry and Ron sat shoulder to shoulder, studying the long schedule Harry had received. 

I took the time to eye my classes schedule. Ron was right, classmate names were also listed. That was a bonus, I could see my friends in my classes and coordinate with them. I’d heard this organization tactic was much like what muggle university students do. Arthur had shared that tidbit of information with me last summer. 

Looking closer, you noticed a reoccuring name under the class titles.

Caring for Mythical Beasts? George Weasley was at the bottom of the class member list. Astronomy? Both Fred and George were listen. Defense Against the Dark Arts? Guess who! The younger of the twins was listed there too. Under every single class title sat George’s name. Except for one. Herbology. My favorite class. My personal oasis. 

George shoved a mouthful of egg into his mouth. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other, Potter.” The small red crest sitting on the breast of George’s robes complimented the ginger hair that sat on his head. People liked to tease the Weasleys. Many joked they didn’t make it into Gryffindor for their bravery. Rather, their genetic carrot tops. 

I pressed my lips together tightly. “I guess so.”

It had been hell. Actual hell. If Scotland got any hotter, I would’ve mistaken here for Hell. George Weasley has made my life unbearable. I’m surrounded by his mischievous antics for 7 hours a day with a single break varying through the weekdays. 

George Weasley didn’t his academia career very seriously. He cracked jokes when he was called on. He’s raise his hand when questions were asked and give the most ridiculous answer. My favorite? When he’d test random pranks Fred and him had been working on to get a reaction. A lot of our classmates found him entertaining. He added a bit of color to the black and white days of Hogwarts academics. I can admit, some days I found myself laughing at his ways. Occasionally, they’d be entertaining. Usually though, I’d crack a smile at best. To the surprise of many, I was here to learn. Sure, Hogwarts was fun. Yet it’s school; people needed to realize that. 

I found that not many of my classes housed too many of my friends. I’m lucky I got Fred in astronomy. I couldn’t forget, though, that he had his other half. They acted the same together. Always goofing off; never serious. 

That meant most of the time, I was walking to my classes by myself. Occasionally I’d cross pathes with a friend. It was rare, and only on certain days. Other days I’d see Ron, Harry and their female friend sitting on the steps by the divination classroom. I’d flash them a smile and continue heading on my way. Unfortunately, George seemed to have picked this up. Every once in a while we’d accidentlaly walk side by side when traveling. Then this instance became more frequent. Until…George was walking with me everywhere. 

“You’ve got to stop following me,” I huff one day in a rush to defense against the dark arts. It’d been a particularly shitty day. I attended breakfast late; at which all the food was cold. Then, a fairy had bitten a whole through the bottom left fabric on my robes. The last thing I needed was George Weasley trailing me like a lost kitten.

He smirked smugly. “It’s almost like we’re going to the same class.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I tried to lose him; quicken my pace and trap him in the wave of first years looking for their classes. He just widened his stride, keeping by my side. 

“I don’t understand why you don’t take the classes more seriously. You know this leads up to our future right?” George nods his head. “Good. Just checking. Because it certainly seems you’ve got your head in prank land and not on the ground like it should be.”

He laughed. “Not everything is so serious, ‘ya know.”

“Yes it is, George.”

His smirk twisted itself into a genuine smile. The more I’ve been around him, willingly or not, I’ve noticed small quirks in his appearance. Like how George has a small dimple on the right side of his mouth. That detail is particularly funny, because Fred has an identical dimple on the left. Or how George’s thinly spread freckles also shared an orangey hue. Perhaps one of my favorites is how his eyebrows are always neatly combed. I’ve never seem him actually comb them. However, his eyebrows are never messy. I’m not going to ask, either. It might be one of those fortunate Weasleu genes the family has. Ginny has perfectly white and straight teeth. Percy’s tight coils in his hair that he never needed to tame like Bill. 

“I’m happy to know you’re so concerned, Potter girl.”

“I hate when you call me that,” I mutter, tugging my book bag staps up and over my shoulder. 

George’s smile never falters. “I know you do. That’s why I do it.” He comments as we approach the door to the classroom. A large group of students stood outside, crowding the arched stone doorway. If it were any other time, I’d shove through the crowd to get away from the twin. But today? I actually weren’t hating him as much. Talk about improvement!

“By the way, George,” I turned to face the tall figure that had stopped next to me. “Harry wants to rip your guts out. You bruised my wrist. I’m not mad about it, although it hurt. But he saw. Ron told him what happened. Not the whole story, but the gist. He knows you did it and he’s bloody angry.”

George chuckled. “You Potter group are fiesty. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And for some reason. It made you bubbly to hear those words falling from George’s lips.

[sugar-petals]

♡ physical affection; levi

↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀

WORDS. ⇢ 7k

tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers

Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.

But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.

If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.

We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.

Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills. 

Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.

When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.

What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.

Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.

Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.

Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together. 

But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.

And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.

The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.

Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles. 

He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.

What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life. 

A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.

You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.

Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.

Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to. 

The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.

Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.

 Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.

So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.

Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.

Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.

You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.

That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days. 

He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.

He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside. 

His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.

Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.

The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.

That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.

He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.

The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.

She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.

It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.

That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to. 

Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.

It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.

The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.

You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind. 

He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!

Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.

News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.

The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether. 

The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.

Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years. 

Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.

He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection. 

That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.

Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.

Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him. 

The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.

The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though. 

You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.

The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours. 

Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.

The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time. 

Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.

I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi. 

Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.

And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either. 

But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.

If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different. 

And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).

So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face. 

He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.  

So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner. 

You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.

Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious. 

On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.

Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup. 

There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.

If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it. 

How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.

Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point. 

Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.

He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already. 

If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.

Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing? 

And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.

He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.

Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle. 

He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“

Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much. 

It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.

And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm. 

How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.

He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.

Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.

His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty. 

If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.

He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.

Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble. 

The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.

Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it. 

From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.

RELATED:  sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)

multifandom mlist | levi writings on ao3

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[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (5/5)

part of the The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 5.7k

warnings: 18+ - drugs, violence, language, alcohol, smut.

a/n: many many notes at the end. unbeta’d as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Javi clicks off the radio as soon as the car starts, and you spend the first half of the ride in silence. For a while, he seems to be focused intently on driving, but you know him well enough to see the wheels turning in his head. Sunglasses hide his eyes, but still, there’s something about that little frown that suggests that his thoughts are far from lunchtime traffic. 

It doesn’t bother you - your mind really isn’t on the road, either. 

“I can’t figure it out.” You’re startled to find that it’s your voice breaking the silence. 

“Can’t figure out what?” Javi takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He’s still not looking at you.

“Who did this, and why.” You swallow past the emotion that wells in your throat, firmly redirecting your thoughts to facts and evidence. “It wasn’t an accident, Peña, I’m ruling that out now. Somebody planted a bomb in Emilio’s store.” 

Javi purses his lips tightly. 

“And call me crazy, but I can’t help but think that it has something to do with Escobar.” Your voice is rising now as you warm to the argument. “Like, this is his MO, right? Bombing civilian small business, terrorism, chaos…” you trail off, furrowing your brow as you rest your forehead against the cool window. “Just… why here? Why Bogotá?”

Why Emilio? 

Javi’s face freezes. He’s quiet for a long time. You watch him warily from the corner of your eye. To the casual observer, he’s all calm stoicism, snuffing his cigarette and reaching both hands to finger the steering wheel. But you know better - you read the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the carefully shuttered expression, the white knuckle grip that suggests that he’s far more stressed than he’s letting on.

Something wild throbs in your chest and you have a sudden, irrational suspicion that he might know more than he’s saying. The moment stretches, and just as you’re ready to panic, Javi huffs a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admits in a low voice, and the bubble of uncertainty shatters. “But I’m going to find out.”

There’s something cold in his tone, a controlled, a calculated malice that threatens vengeance, and you rest your forehead against the window, wondering at the profound sense of reassurance you draw from his words.

Out of nowhere, a truck swerves in front of you, and Javi leans hard on the horn, cursing and flipping off the driver out the window as you weave past him.

You can’t help a small smile at that - Javier Peña, taking out his worries on the unassuming drivers of Bogotá.   

Again, silence stretches between you.

“I think it’s time you told me about your morning.” Javi’s voice is soft, but still, you know it’s not a request. 

“There’s not much to tell,” you confess. Again, not entirely true, but you haven’t even begun to process it all, and the details are overwhelming to contemplate. “I volunteered to stay over at headquarters. They wouldn’t put me in the air two nights in a row, but still, I wanted to know what was happening.”

His lips twitch at this. 

“It was quiet. I left around seven, I think. I’m not entirely sure. Figured somebody would call me with news. And then…” You pause, swallowing hard. “I was almost home. At the corner of 70.” 

You remember waving to Emilio, the way his eyes had lit up when he’d spotted you, his toothy grin. He’d been so proud, introducing you to that guaro.You blink, bracing yourself against the yawning pit of grief that threatens to open in your chest. Not now. Please.

“Then the store exploded.”

You and Javi draw a deep breath at the same time. The ensuing silence is stifling. 

“Then what?” he prompts you gently.

You glance up, noticing that he’s parked the car. Neither of you move.

“I stumbled back,” you continue haltingly. You just want this conversation to be over. “It’s all kind of a blur, from there. It was really weird, like… like being in a time warp, or something.”

He nods grimly, like he understands.

“I decided to go to your place…” you’re nervous, confessing this part to him. As tense as he is, as awkward as things have been, any reference of your previous liaisons feels like stirring hot shit with a stick. “I just, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t wait for the police to arrive?”

Desperation and indignation rise in you. “Javi, I’d just witnessed my fucking apartment go up in flames, okay? Excuse me if I didn’t perform to your exacting standards!”

He presses his lips together in a firm line, and oh, fuck. You realize that you’ve just called him by his name again - something you’ve made a point not to do since that horrible morning in the shower.

Ugh.

You drop bonelessly against the passenger seat, all of the fight leaking from you. This fucking day… god, just, fuck this day.

“I’m sorry.” Javi’s voice is so whisper-quiet that it almost doesn’t register. 

You take three deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

“It’s fine,” you say, once you’re grounded again. “But I’m - I’m just done talking, okay?”

“Yeah.” Javi opens his door with a deep sigh. “Okay.”

♠

Javi lets you in, and you go straight for the sofa, settling awkwardly with your hands in your lap.  

God, now what? You’re right back where you started - no home, no job to do, and no answers. Exhaustion and helpless resignation swallow you whole, and you sit like that for a long moment, staring into the middle distance and fighting the urge to rest your head in your hands. 

After a while - you’re not sure how long - you notice the absolute silence permeating the apartment. Javi hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You’d totally forgotten he was there.

You glance up.

He’s draped against the front door with his arms folded defensively across his chest, frowning fiercely at nothing. 

“Hey.” You aren’t aware that you’ve moved until you’re standing in front of him.

His eyes flutter shut and he exhales, long and slow, tilting his head back against the door so that he’s facing the ceiling, and okay, now you’re seriously freaked out. 

“Javi?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers.

“Can’t do what?”

He grimaces like the sound of your voice is painful. “Please don’t make me.”

You take a half step closer, alarm bells screaming in your head. You have never, ever heard this man beg, not once in all the time you’ve spent together. “Don’t make you… Javi, what?”

His gaze flicks to yours, and you suck a sharp breath. 

Javi looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are wide and dark, brow furrowed deep, and he’s staring at you with so much longing in his expression that little sparks of electricity go zipping across your skin. 

“God, Ears, baby, I was there,” he rasps. He takes one quick little step forward, as if to reach for you. “I went to your place as soon as I heard, as soon as the plane landed…”

You brain skitters to a stop. 

Oh, Christ. He hadn’t told you that. You don’t even have time to wonder about it, though, because Javi is still speaking, words pouring out of him as if revisiting the memory has cracked him wide open. 

“And it, it was a fucking crater, okay? And nobody had seen you, nobody had heard anything, and they had the fucking - the fucking body bags -” His voice cracks, and he presses his fists to his eyes, as if to hide his face while he gathers himself. 

Horror floods you. You’re starting to put it all together now. You’d been so distracted by your own terrible day that you’d not once thought to ask about Javi’s. You imagine him at the bomb site, picking his way through ash and rubble, flashing his badge at firemen and emergency responders, firing off questions, watching them load up body bags…

Oh, fuck.

Javi shakes his head sharply, as if dispersing the memories, and when he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. “Querida,” he breathes, pinning you with an expression of open desperation. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Oh. 

It takes a lot to scare Javier Peña. You know this. He’s a fearless man. He has to be.

But this morning, Javi had been terrified. You recall his voice over the phone, tense and clipped, the blustered sigh of profound relief, the clattering footsteps as he’d raced up the steps, his eyes, not quick and efficient, but frantic as he’d taken you in, alive and healthy and wearing his clothes.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, unable to articulate just how profoundly you mean that. You’re still reeling from the implications of it all.

“I know,” Javi chokes. He blinks hard, almost like he’s baffled by it. “You’ve been right here the whole time.” He hitches a breath. “And goddammit, baby, I can’t sit here and listen to you say my name without wondering what the hell else I’m losing.”

Reality shifts and realigns in an instant. Fear and disbelief give way to fierce longing, and your voice comes out as a choked whisper. “Come here.”

Javi does, haltingly at first, as if wondering if you really mean it. You fall into his arms, and he pulls you close, reverently, as if you are the most precious thing in the world. He presses his forehead carefully to yours, catching your jawline with his palms and threading his fingers through your hair. 

“God, baby,” he rasps. “When I saw you… When I heard your voice…”

“I’m okay,” you remind him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m okay.” 

He sighs deeply, and a bubble of tension you weren’t even aware of bursts at the sound. You melt into him, and he holds you tightly for a long, long time, swaying your bodies gently back and forth, your head tucked against his chest. 

You tilt your face to him, pressing your lips to his skin, and he huffs brokenly, his body still wrapped around yours like he’s reluctant to create any space between you. He’s shaking as he takes your face in his hands, pausing just long enough to fix you with a wild-eyed, pleading glance.

“Okay?” he breathes. 

“God, yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

And just like that, Javi’s kissing you like a man without air, awkward and starving, catching the back of your neck with one hand, the other roaming beneath your shirt to stroke at your ribcage.

There’s nothing gentle about it. A month’s worth of desperation has been building in both of you, and now, Javi’s frantically mapping your body with his lips and tongue, peppering little licks and kisses and soft nips down your jaw and neck while you scramble awkwardly for the buttons of his shirt. You struggle to keep your fingers under control as one gigantic hand finds your ass and squeezes. You gasp, inadvertently popping his last button. 

Damn, you liked that shirt. 

Undeterred, you push it aside, finally free to explore his chest and back and belly for the first time in far too long. Javi’s skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his body smooth muscle and soft heat as he leans into you. His hands are snaking beneath your shirt now, one brushing the bare skin of your torso as it wanders up to grasp at your bra, the other gripping at the hollow of your hips. You arch into his touch, groaning low into his mouth, and he bucks in response, cock straining at his jeans, denim deliciously rough against your palm.

“What do you want, baby?” he gasps into the hollow of your throat. Those gorgeous hands have migrated back to your ass now, clutching with a greediness that leaves you panting. 

“Just…” God, you can’t even think, your brain flickering in and out, overloaded with pleasure and pent up emotion and Javier Peña. “Just you, Javi. Now. Please.”

He whimpers, his erection digging rock-hard into your belly, and the sound nearly brings you to your knees - cool, collected, suave Javier Peña, keening for you. 

Javi hikes you up so quickly that you yelp, hips pinning you as he drives you into the wall. You brace yourself for impact, but he’s already anticipated that - one hand cups the back of your head, cradling you protectively, the other reaching past your thighs to clench at your pussy.

You moan, rocking into him, bracing your elbows against the wall to grant him access. You shimmy your hips, and he hitches your skirt up with a fist, dragging your soaking panties to the side as he buries his fingers inside you.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Javi’s fingers pulse deep into your core, once, and then again, that come-hither curl of them driving you wild as he pumps through your juices. You scramble back, opening yourself as best you can with your limited mobility as he presses his knee beneath your leg to hold you in place. 

God fucking damn, there’s something about being pinned to the wall by this man that leaves you trembling and leaking.

Groaning, Javi sinks his mouth onto yours, and you arch up to meet him, sucking sloppily on his lips, his stubbled jaw, whatever you can get to. You tug his hair hard, mostly for leverage, and he gasps, throwing his head back in a way that allows you access to his neck. You love Javi’s neck - it’s delicious, all fascinating gentle dips between tight tendons, and you relish the opportunity to explore each of its arcs and hollows with your tongue.

He shudders as you nip and suck and bite at him, grinding your body against his as you clench your legs around his waist. 

You’re both panting at this point, skin slick with sweat. It’s hard to know where you end and Javi begins, but it’s so, so good, feral and desperate and heated, and somehow, he’s still managing to pulse his thumb at your clit.  The motion sets a fucking fire in you, slow, deep waves of hot pressure building in your core.

“More, Javi,” you beg against his clavicle, shimmying your hips against his hand. Any other day, you’d be content to stay here, caught between him and the wall as he wrings your orgasm from you with the pads of his fingers. But there’s something else building in you, a desperation that has both nothing and everything to do with physical release, and you just need him closer. “I- I need -”

Javi growls, gently dropping you to the floor as he shucks out of his jeans. You help him along with trembling fingers, giggling incoherently as your heads brush clumsily in your haste. You take the opportunity to shrug out of your shirt and bra, and then Javi’s pinning you with a gaze that’s almost predatory, dark enough to send shivers of anticipation curling down your spine. 

You back against the wall and raise a brow, daring him to come get you.

He does, hoisting you up easily - he really is stronger than he looks. One knee hikes beneath your thigh, his opposite hand clenched behind your ass, thumb digging deep into the hollow of your hip. You absently notice that he’s once again braced his opposite hand between your head and the wall, threading his fingers through your loosened braid, but you don’t have time to consider it, because he’s thrusting into you, quick, shallow pumps that leave you gasping for air.

It’s mind-blowingly amazing, and a wild, wanton part of you wonders why the hell you haven’t done this before - just kick off your clothes and go at it like animals in the hallway. You sink deeper onto him, angling your hips just-so, and oh fucking christ, he’s rubbing right against your clit, hard and fast and sloppy in the very best way.

You throw your head back, spasming around him, scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. He’s still wearing his fucking shirt, and you cling to its open edges with enough force to rip. Javi hisses, rhythm faltering as he slips from you. For a moment, you pause like that, him holding you with shaking thighs, your lungs and skin burning, heaving breaths mingling hot on each other’s faces, but then he’s realigning himself, shifting his angle a little. You shimmy up the wall, desperate to accommodate. 

The second round is even more brutal than the first, choppy and shallow. Your abs are burning; it’s a difficult position to maintain, but that familiar fullness is building achingly delicious in your core, so you hold out, gasping. Javi’s breathing raggedly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he presses it against yours, eyes wide and unfocused as he thrusts into you. 

He’s trembling with exertion.

“Fuck!” He’s slipped again. You sink to the floor, reaching for his wrist.  He looks at you, face twisted in a resentful snarl. 

“Javi,” you gasp, kissing him before he can react. What you’re doing is hot as fuck, but it’s not working right now. You’re both too tired, too desperate and shaky, and you need release. “Take me to bed.”

“Hmm,” he moans into your mouth. It must be agreement, because pulls back - you shudder at the loss of contact - and then hoists you over his shoulder in a move that makes your head spin. You giggle a little, breathless and giddy and almost incoherent with need.

Javi carries you through the apartment like that, you clinging to him like a koala bear with your legs locked around his waist and your head draped over his shoulder. He drops you lopsided on his unmade bed. Automatically, you flop over onto your stomach and gather your knees to your chest, remembering how he loves to take you from behind. 

“No,” his voice is strained. A hand, surprisingly gentle, tugs at your shoulder, and you go with it, twisting so that you’re on your back again, sideways in the bed. “I need…” Javi’s panting, dark eyes burning a hole in you. “I need to see you, baby.” His voice breaks, his expression vulnerable, almost apologetic. 

A rush of affection overtakes you, and you reach for him, pulling him close for another deep kiss. Javi straddles you, palming himself in preparation, and you have the foresight to shove a pillow under your ass - if you’re going to be doing this face to face, then you want him as deep as possible.

When you glance up, he’s watching you open-mouthed, absently tugging at his leaking cock like he just can’t help it.

God, he’s beautiful. 

He sucks a startled breath, looking at you in wide-eyed wonder, and oh fuck. You’d said that out loud. 

“Javi,” you whine, yanking him closer. You don’t have time to feel awkward, goddammit. You just need him. For real. Inside you. Right now.

You both shudder as he sinks deep into you. He stays still for a moment, and you clench against him desperately, urging him to move, dammit, but he’s holding off. 

“Baby,” he rasps, glancing down at you, red-faced. “I’m not - I’m not going to last.”

That confession alone makes something swell tightly in you, and you buck your hips in response. “It’s okay,” you rasp, trying hard be good, to hold still, to not overwhelm him.  “I won’t, either.”

He rocks against you, a tiny pulse, just enough to fucking tease, but it must be an unconscious thing, because he’s still looking you in the eye like he’s afraid you’ll reject him, or condemn him.

“Javi, please,” you keen, patience thoroughly spent. You reach up, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging hard. “I don’t care. I just need you. All of you.”

That gets him moving.

Javi rocks against you, setting up an achingly slow, almost careful rhythm, his left hand still cradled around the back of your neck to brace your head as he draws himself to the hilt, then nearly all the way out again. It’s gentle and sweet, but dammit, you want more. You pull your knees to his elbows to encourage him deeper, digging your heels into his back. Javi gets the message, because he twitches and groans, curling around your body and bracing himself against your shoulders, abruptly driving into you with a force that punches the air from your lungs - hard, fast, and deliciously brutal.

It’s exactly what you need.

You curl up against his chest, abs burning as you glance past your breasts to the place where your bodies are connected. The edges of his open shirt skim the sensitive skin of your ribcage, framing the view and drowning you in more sensation. Heat is pooling in you, tension building and sparking and curling your toes. There’s something surreal and wonderful about watching yourselves work in tandem, his hips and yours, pulsing and perfect.

Javi shudders, and you drag your eyes back to his face, not daring to miss a moment. Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and that expression alone, that little purse-lipped grimace of pleasure, is enough to drive you to the edge. Controlled, careful, restrained Javier Peña coming undone for you, rattled for you, staring at you like it hurts to draw a fucking breath in your presence… goddamn, you twisted little shit, you’re really liking that.

His rhythm is faltering now, thighs clenching erratically, breath coming in ragged little pants. You know that he’s close. 

You reach up to stroke his cheek. “Javi,” you whisper. His eyes find yours, glossy and wild. His mouth is open, his brow furrowed. “It’s okay, baby,” you tell him. He trembles in response, a full body shudder, his eyes flickering shut.

“It’s okay. Let go.”

His breath hitches, and he bucks wildly, collapsing against your chest with a low, broken groan. The hot heaviness of him pulsing into you releases a shockwave of pleasure down you spine. You gasp as your core clenches, spreading his heat, but it’s not quite enough, you’re not quite ready, and you grit your teeth at the loss of friction as he softens inside you. 

You watch his face twitch, relief and ecstasy and something else, something fierce and sharp that you can’t possibly name.

You groan, reaching your fingers down to your core, battering against him. You tug at your clit, index finger tap-dancing in that perfect circular motion that sends you straight over the edge as Javi flops bonelessly beside you.

Desperate for contact, you sink into him, still working to salvage that orgasm, concentrating hard on the rapid rise and fall of his ribcage with each chugging breath, the heat of his body wrapped around you like a second skin. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a look of quiet desperation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, reaching for you with wide eyes. “Babe, I -”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” you reassure him, batting his hand aside with your elbow before he can interfere. The waves are crescendoing now, almost painful in their intensity. You’re so fucking close, words and reason are beyond you. “S’okay, Jav, I’m close… I just need…  need you to…. “

“What do you need, baby? Anything.”

“Just - just be here.”

Javi inhales sharply, then gathers you closer to him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, resting his face in the crook of your neck, peppering you with the softest of kisses. One hand rests firmly on your head, its thumb working little circles on your uninjured temple, the other trailing down your body to splay at the sensitive underside of your belly. “I’m here, baby,” he whispers raggedly into your ear. “I’m here.”

Oh god, oh god. The pressure fucking hurts, burning in your toes, clenching in your core, and just when you think that you’re useless today, that sex is absolute bullshit and you can’t possibly take anymore, that -

“You’re so…  my god, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

It’s not Javi’s tone, broken as is is. It’s the frankness of the confession, the rawness. Javier Peña is not a sweet talker, especially not in bed. He’s not pandering to you. It’s more like the words have been dragged from him at gunpoint, pulled from the very deepest recesses of his subconscious, and it’s that honesty, that awed, reverent authenticity, that drives you over the edge.

It all happens in an instant. The bubble of tension in your core bursts abruptly, and you come with a choked gasp, mind blinking in and out as you ride out wave after wave of sweet relief. Javi is with you the whole time, cradling you in his arms as you shatter. 

It’s not the longest orgasm you’ve had, or even the most intense, but there’s something about him holding you, about sharing the same skin and air and listening to him murmur sweetly in your ear, that transcends any release you've ever experienced. You ride the waves of your orgasm, swearing to the heavens that you’re breaking apart, and somehow, you’re taking Javi with you like you never have before, splintering and reconverging in a way that’s intimate and vulnerable and precious beyond words.

You come back to reality, breathless and trembling, and the first thing you notice is Javi staring at you with something like reverence in his expression. 

“Hey,” he breathes, running a gentle finger down your cheek. 

“Mmm,” you curl into his chest, just breathing him in, all warm, sticky skin and stale cigarette and perfect man. 

You stay that way for a long time.

“I missed you,” Javi whispers hoarsely, pressing soft lips against your ear. 

“I know,” you choke, because you do. That rush of clarity that had effused you in the front hallway is only more potent now. You and Javi had been dancing around each other for months, each of you too stubborn and too afraid to admit to the other that your feelings ran so much deeper than you let on. It’s so obvious now, how stupid you’d both been, and how much you’d missed by being stupid. 

You’re horrified to feel tears tracking down your cheeks. God, reality has caught up with you all at once, exhaustion and fear and horror and relief all snarled up with post-coital vulnerability, and you curl deeper into Javi, tucking your face down in an effort to hide.

He notices, though. He always notices. “Baby?” Javi tilts your face up, tracking over you with concerned, dark eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Exposure turns your tears to choked sobs, and it’s all you can do to speak. “I’m fine,” you gasp, and it’s both the truth and a lie. You’ve never felt safer than you feel now, or more connected to another human than you are to Javier Peña in this moment. 

And that’s the thing. There’s still so much left to say. So many emotions, so many worries, so much grief. It all wars for dominance in you, everything at once, and you’re not even sure what the fuck you’re crying about until all of the sudden, you’re choking on words.

“Emilio,” you gasp. “He - he -”

Javi draws a sharp breath of understanding, wrapping strong arms around you as you cry. 

“He was… he was gone… and there was nothing I could do!”

“Oh, baby,” Javi murmurs into your ear, rubbing tiny circles into the bare skin of your back. “I know. I know. I’m so, so sorry.”

“And, and…” You’re sobbing so hard that your chest burns, and it’s all you can do to breathe, but the dam has burst, and it’s all coming out now, whether you want it to or not. “Oh, god, Javi, I missed you, too.”

He chuckles a little at that, peppering your forehead with gentle kisses and thumbing the tears from your cheeks. 

“Steve was right,” he confesses, tucking your head under his chin. “We’re both idiots.”

This startles a wet giggle from you. You imagine Murphy confronting Javi like he’d confronted you, red-faced and indignant and insisting that you both deserve one another. “Yeah,” you sniffle through your tears. “He was.”

“He’ll be insufferable about it, too.” Javi’s holding your hand now, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth, back and forth over your knuckles. You sigh breathily into his chest, crying until your sobs turn to shudders, and then finally, until you’re wrung raw and thoroughly exhausted. 

Javi holds you the whole time.

You exhale raggedly, noticing for the first time just how slimy you are. “Ugh, gross,” you mutter, covering your face with your hand as you draw away from Javi, horrified. 

Jesus Christ, if you’d just slung snot all over Javier Peña’s bare chest… god, you think you won’t survive the humiliation.

But Javi doesn’t seem bothered. He sits up, glancing around his bedroom for a tissue. Finding nothing, he shrugs out of his shirt, offering it to you silently.

You stare at it, then him. 

“What?” he asks, incredulous. He’s still holding out the shirt, eyebrow cocked as if to question why you won’t just take it. 

 “Nothing,” you say. And that’s a lie. There’s something so uniquely Javi about the gesture, wanting you to wipe your nose with the shirt off his back. But that’s just him - genuine, resourceful, efficient. It’s cute and perfect and ridiculous, and it makes your chest swell and ache.

But you can’t quite put all of that into words right now, and you know he wouldn’t understand even if you tried, so you take the shirt from him with a grateful smile and blow your nose in it like a goddamn heathen. 

Javi wads it in a tight ball when you’re finished, chunking it unceremoniously on the floor. 

You roll your eyes, and he smirks at you, squeezing your hand as he climbs out of bed. After his cigarettes, you think. “Pretty sure you dropped them on the kitchen floor,” you call after him. 

“Yup,” he verifies from the hallway.

You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom and clean up, and by the time you’re done, Javi’s waiting for you, propped up against the headboard with his eyes shut, smoke curling from his mouth. He pats the bed beside him, not looking up, and you snuggle under his arm, sighing contentedly. 

This is new, the cuddling, sharing his bed, burrowing against his side as he smokes, and you savor every detail. His skin is still slick with cooling sweat, and you can hear his heartbeat beneath his ribs where your head rests, slow and steady. Neither of you need to speak, each just drawing comfort from the presence of the other.

Afterglow, you decide, is a very good word for it.

“Javi?” you ask after a long, long time.

“Yeah?” he whispers. You wonder if he thought you were asleep.

“What is this?” You wave your hand, indicating the tiny space between his chest and yours. You know what it looks like, and you know what it is for you, but you can’t stand the thought of leaving anything uncertain between you, not after all of this.

Javi takes a deep drag of his cigarette. He holds that breath for a long time, but the silence doesn’t scare you, not anymore. That’s just Javi’s thinking face, the one you know so well.

After a while, Javi turns to face you fully. “This is me,” he starts slowly, reaching for your hands and lifting them to his chest, “deciding that I’m not going to miss any more opportunities.”

Your breath catches. That sounds - well, coming from Javier Peña, it sounds an awful lot like a vow. 

“I’m all in, Ears.” Javi kisses each of your hands in turn. “If that’s okay with you.” He glances up almost hesitantly, the question burning in his eyes.

There’s something about the gravitas of the delivery that hints that his words are more than they seem. Javi’s gaze is pinned to yours, dark and serious, and a shiver runs down your spine. You might be lacking some context, but Javi’s resolve is impossible to miss. 

You consider it for only half a second. You’ve known for a long time now that there’s a lot more at stake in Colombia than just your career. Hell, you’d known that from the moment you let Javi walk away from your apartment for the first time. And he’s made his position pretty clear, too. You bite back a loopy grin as you remember him blowing past Martinez at headquarters. 

Yeah, there’s no salvaging this secret.

"All in," you say, gripping his hands tightly and wishing you could be half as eloquent and intense and awesome as he is. “I like the way that sounds.”

It’s the honest truth. 

Javi breaks out into a soft smile that shows off that single dimple, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Looks like we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah,” you try to answer, just as you are interrupted by a huge yawn.

Javi snorts. “Go to sleep, Ears,” he says fondly, pointedly throwing back the bed covers. You shoot him a petulant frown, and he rolls his eyes, undeterred. “Seriously, baby. This is just getting stupid now.”

“Whole day is stupid,” you mutter darkly as you climb under the blankets - not because he told you to, but because you want to.

“Oh really?” Javi teases. “The whole day?”

“Well,” you pretend to contemplate. “Guess the sex was alright.” You grin wolfishly at him from beneath the covers. 

His response does not disappoint. “Alright?” He presses a hand to his chest, wounded. “Christ, baby, kick a man while he’s down.” He side-eyes you, frowning. “Guess I really do need to up my game, huh?”

“Your words, Jav,” you mumble. The full force of your exhaustion has hit you with a vengeance, and talking is hard. 

“I will make it up to you baby,” he growls in your ear, suddenly serious. “You know I will.”

“Mmhmm,” you sigh. Any other time, that voice would have gone straight to your core, but now, not so much. “I do.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss on your nose, then slips out of the bed. The loss of his body heat is enough to draw you out of your stupor, just for a moment. 

“Stay?” you call pathetically, just as the lamp flicks off. 

Oh. 

Javi settles back in beside you, wrapping his arms around your chest and nuzzling into the back of your neck with his nose. “Yeah, babe,” he whispers into your ear as you finally, finally drift off. “Not going anywhere.”

♠

Author notes/ confessions:

Whew, and that’s a wrap. Big, big notes here guys. I am incapable of being brief, apparently. 

First, I know a lot of you are chomping at the bits to know who the fuck bombed Ears’ apartment. I tried to place a few little clues here and there, but ROE takes place sometime between 2.06 and 2.07. To summarize, Los Pepes, the vigilante group targeting Escobar, is funded by the Cali cartel. In retaliation, Escobar starts bombing Cali cartel owned business - their drug stores in particular. This really heated up in Bogotá around December 1992, which is when ROE ends. 

Now, here’s the fun thing - Javi is absolutely already working with Los Pepes at this point - a relationship he initiated during the month that he and Ears were on the outs. Ears’ intuition in the car is correct - Javi does know, or suspect, more than he’s saying. This is a major plot point for a story that I have in the pipeline, but working that in here - god, guys, that’s too much, and ROE needed to end like 10k words ago, honestly. 

That being said, if anybody has interest in being a beta, or just letting me scream ideas at them, hit me up. This little “one shot” has turned into a full blown universe in my brain, and these ideas are dying to get out. 

The sex. Yeah, I know the sex isn’t great, but I wanted it that way. It was a strange choice on my part, both for Javi’s character and as a first foray into writing smut, but it just seemed appropriate. Sex is rarely ever as mind-blowing as depicted in fic, and besides, these two have had lots and lots of perfect sex. They’re a pretty equal match in that department, but this time is different. I wanted to put the emotions on display, rather than the physicality. It just makes sense that this time would be rushed, desperate, and messy. They are both emotionally and physically exhausted. Also, I really, really wanted to come full circle from the shower scene, where Ears never gets her completion, and also the scene on the sofa when Ears comforts Javi after a terrible day by saying, “I’m here.” There’s some sort of cathartic and earned about Ears bringing herself to completion while Javi just holds her. That being said, I know I owe Javi, and you guys, some smutty one-shots. I plan to deliver, I promise.

You’ll notice that I mention ears choking, coughing, sputtering, breathing, wheezing, feeling a tightness in the chest, aching… she’s got a small pulmonary contusion from being in such close proximity the blast zone. It’s a common injury in bombing survivors, and hers isn’t massive or life threatening, just inconvenient. Pulmonary contusion symptoms tend to develop hours or days after the injury, so she’ll steadily get worse, and when she does, the whole story of her experience with the explosion WILL come out. She’s still got a lot of trauma to process, both physically and emotionally, but Javi is gonna be there every step of the way (after he flips shit first, that is). I’ll let you guys imagine this one, though, because I have already dragged ROE out far longer than I really should have, and it’s mostly medical bs, anyway. 

Last of all, if you’re still here, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I haven’t written in years, and this story pushed me far outside of my comfort zone. Your support, comments, likes, reblogs, reaction gifs - they all mean the world to me. 

@tiffdawg​, you are directly responsible for this dumpster fire. I hope you’re proud. :)

Much, much love, and a happy new year to each of you.

~ Jay

[caitdjarin]

traitor.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

-       Based on “Traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo, Yours and Bucky’s break-up was a surprise to you at least. An even bigger surprise was seeing him with a new girlfriend just weeks after.

Warnings

Angst, Jealousy, Cheating, Moving On, Slight Violence, Language, Bucky being toxic, Self-help, Kind of Happy ending?

As it turned out, your relationship with Bucky wasn’t as stable as you thought it was. After being together for three years, you had assumed you were both happy. When he ended it suddenly, all you could feel was shock, frozen, watching him pack his things. Pack up three years of your life together. You could not hear anything, sight going blurrier by the minute as you sat on your shared bed. His explanation as to why he was suddenly ending things was that he just was not happy with you anymore.

Of course, weeks later you found that out to be a lie. He had introduced his new girlfriend to everyone. Hearing her name from Nat and Wanda, you remembered all the arguments you had had about this woman. Seeing her name on his phone constantly, him telling you that they were just friends, you were being paranoid and that he could have female friends. That was when you realised you and Bucky were truly over.

Seeing him months later at your favourite coffee shop was not the reunion you wanted. He said your name as you walked into the store.

“James,” you signed “it’s nice to see you.”

“It is really nice to see you too, I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you doing?”

Did he really not expect to see me here when I introduced him to the little shop in the first place? And how am I doing? What sort of question is that? “Oh, I am doing incredible, I found out my long-term boyfriend betrayed me and made me out to be some bad guy when he was probably fucking this girl while we were still together.”

“I am doing fantastic; I hope you are as well” you smiled. It wasn’t a total lie, you were dating again, doing well at work, almost at the finish line with your doctorate in English Literature. Once you had said that you saw his face drop slightly before picking it up again.

“Yeah, I am too. We should catch up soon, I would really love to see hear what you’ve been up to” he smiles.

“I’m so sorry, James, I’m just really busy with work at the moment” you said, before leaving. Unfortunately, not even getting the chance to order anything. I guess, it was time to change coffee shops.

The next time you saw him was in a restaurant, three months later, while you were with the guy that you had been seeing. Rafael was everything you could dream of. You had met while he in the library at your university, turns out you were both in the doctorate program. You clicked pretty much instantly, this being your third date.

Walking to the bathroom, you were suddenly grabbed by your arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the person says, turning around you see Bucky.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you whisper angerly, trying to wiggle your arm out of his grasp.

“Why the fuck are you here with some dude?”

“Oh, I’m sorry last time I remembered I was single, didn’t know I couldn’t date people.” He finally let go of your arm. “You do not get to control my life, James. I am a grown woman and last time I checked you had a girlfriend.” You start to walk away.

“You can’t just talk to me like that, Y/N” he slams his hand against the wall to stop you from walking away.

“I am allowed to move on, considering it took you two fucking weeks to go off and date someone, you may not have ‘cheated’ you say in air quotes, “but you’re still a traitor, Barnes” you duck under his hand, walking towards Rafael.

“Can we leave? Find somewhere else.” You say to him, grabbing your jacket.

“Yeah, of course, are you okay?” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, walking out the door.

“Yeah, I just ran into someone, I didn’t want to see” you lean into him.

Bucky didn’t actually think you would move on. He honestly expected you to be waiting for him after he was done exploring. Seeing you dressed up all pretty, like you would for him on your date nights, made him livid. He couldn’t believe you would bring someone else to this restaurant, the restaurant that you had spent all your anniversaries, where your first date was. Of course, he was being a hypocrite because he had brought some random girl here but how could you have done this? If he was being honest, he was more surprised by the way you had spoken to him; you had never spoken to him like that before, even during your many arguments, you were still respectful.

Graduation day had commenced, a day you had been working towards for 8 years now. Inviting your family and your friends, Nat, Wanda, Tony, Steve, Vis, Scott. All except Bucky. He came anyway, staying in the back, making sure you were unable to see him. He knew it was your day and he didn’t deserve to be there. He was so proud of you, during your relationship, you had cried at least once a day with how stressed out you were, and now you would never have to cry about it again. Walking on stage, you looked as beautiful as ever, your face was lit up in the same way it did whenever you had looked at Bucky. You had grabbed your certificate, smiling for the cameras and then quickly walking back to your chair. Rafael was after you, receiving his certificate as well. So that’s how you met him, Bucky thought. After that, Bucky had left.

Rafael was probably the closest to perfect that you could get. He was kind, caring and hard working. Once you had moved in together, things seemed to be really steady, comfortable. Of course, that meant something would go wrong. Coming home early from work was supposed to be a surprise for Raf, is when you catch him cheating. Literally walk in on him getting fucked by his best friend. You’re not exactly angry, if you were being completely honest, you didn’t feel the same love for Rafael as you once did before.  Moving your things out of your shared apartment, you move in with Nat and Wanda. You decided that being single for a while won’t be the worst thing in the world.

Wanda and Vis’ engagement party was the following weekend, you were truly happy for them. Dressing in your favourite black dress and throwing on a jacket over the top, you drive to the venue. It was incredibly beautiful, fairy lights all throughout the area. You grabbed a glass of champagne and began to sip it.

“You look beautiful, Y/N” you hear someone stand next to you. Bucky.

“Thank you, James.” You say politely.

“You’re the most beautiful girl here, I’m sorry about what happened. You didn’t deserve that.” He looks at you.

“It’s okay, I’m doing okay”

“Have you been writing? I know you graduated a couple of months ago.” He tries to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, I have, not any stories unfortunately though.” It’s been years since you’d actually talked to Bucky, you missed this. You had always loved how attentive he was to your interests.

“What have you been writing then?”

“Songs” He looks at you confused. You continued to surprise him always.

“Of course, they’re not for anyone to hear but I have been able to get my feelings out and it’s helped me move on.”

“I’m really happy for you, I know I treated you terribly and didn’t do well with the break-up side of things but I really miss you and hope we can be friends again.” He says, moving in front of you so he could see your face. That’s when he sees your face light up again, like it used to when you were in love, he never thought he’d be on the receiving end of one of those looks again.

“Sure Bucky, I missed you too.” 

Authors note

Hi, this was my first story that I actually published. I left the ending open to something happening, in case I wanted to revisit this story and do a part two. I hope you enjoyed :)

[yikesharringrove]

Sweet Little Mango

Rewrite

Read on Ao3

Chapter 3

-

Billy groaned as he folded himself into the Camaro.

Steve hadn’t been at school that day.

Billy wasn’t totally worried, it was around time for his heat, anyway, but Steve had been feeling bad the past few days, throwing up nearly every morning this week before making his way to school, looking pale and clammy, and sleeping through nearly every class.

Billy smoked lazily out the window. The October chill was beginning to set in, and he was fucking dreading the cold weather. He was a California, golden sunshine, warm weather baby through and through, and if it fucking snows, well. Basically, he doesn’t have a coat and he’s pretty much fucked.

He pulled into the driveway in front of Steve’s house, letting himself in the front door with the key Steve had given him at the end of summer.

The house didn’t smell like it did when Steve was in heat, full of the honey lavender scent of his hormones, his slick.

The house was as cold as still as it usually was when Mr. and Mrs. Harrington couldn’t be assed to spend time with their only kid.

Something uneasy climbed down Billy’s spine.

“Stevie?” He yelled up the stairs. There was no answer. Billy didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before he bounded upstairs. “Stever!”

He found Steve in his bedroom, all snuggly and wrapped up in bed, nestled under a pile of blankets. Again, not really unusual behavior for Steve, especially if he was in one of his moods, but the entire situation just didn’t sit right with Billy.

Call it alpha intuition.

Billy sat on the other side of the bed, laying over Steve, melting his body weight onto him.

Steve didn’t react to him.

Something’s up.

“Baby, what’s up?” Steve just made a high sound in his throat in reply.

So, there’s a big something up.

Billy started shifting blankets, finding Steve’s face. “Talk to me.” One of Steve’s eyes opened, big and round and full of something Billy couldn’t place. “You okay?”

“I went to the doctor today. I was awake all night throwing up.”

Billy kissed his forehead. He was covered in cold sweat.

“What’s the verdict? You alright?” Steve shifted, sitting up, holding a pillow to his chest. “Flu? Strep? Hand-foot-and-mouth disease?” Steve didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile.

Billy was fucking worried.

“I, um, I’m, I’m pregnant.”

Billy’s heart fucking stopped.

“She said I was probably eight weeks along.” Steve was nervously picking at something on the bedspread, beginning to ramble. “So I guess it was during one of my heats, that sometimes, sometimes omegas still have heats during the early pregnancy, which is why, why I still had the last one but didn’t have this one, and apparently it’s the size of a raspberry, a tiny little raspberry, Bill. And I, I know we’re so young, but I don’t, I don’t think I can bring myself to get rid of it, and this, I mean, it’s a fucking miracle I even got pregnant in the first place, and this could be my chance to have a pup of my own, and, god, it’s all just so fucking much, and I’m not, you don’t, I‘m not expecting anything from you but-” Billy pulled Steve into his chest, petting his hair, shushing him softly.

“It’s okay, Sweet Thing.” He kissed Steve’s head. “Whatever you wanna do. I’m gonna be right here for you.” Steve melted into him.

“Bill, I, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I can, if we can actually, actually be fucking parents, but I, Billy I can not just, just-I already love them so fucking much. ”

“You don’t have to, Honey. You can decide. We’ll make this work, how ever we have to.” He hefted Steve further into his lap. “I’m gonna be here for you, for our pup. And we got, like, family that’ll help us.”

“Bill, I don’t think our parents are gonna-”

Billy was quick to cut him off.

“Are you gonna tell Joyce she can’t babysit, or should I get murdered for it?”

Steve laughed, an unexpected little thing.

“So you’re- you’re okay?”

“I mean, nothing’s really sunk in, and I’ve got a huge fucking breakdown on the horizon once I realize what all this actually means. But, you know. I’m fine.”

-

Billy’s breakdown came when he went home the next morning.

When his dad backhanded him across the face for staying out all night.

He was standing in his room, staring wide-eyed at the window.

How could he be so fucking stupid? Steve wasn’t on birth control. Billy fucking knew that , and still pumped him full of cum every fucking heat.

Steve had told him that it was near impossible for male omegas to get pregnant. It had to be a perfect storm of proper anatomy and a strong heat that allowed for their bodies to actually implant and grow a tiny clump of cells into a whole human person.

Steve had been working with the idea that he pretty much couldn’t get pregnant since he was a kid. And Billy had totally run with that.

And now Steve’s got a little tiny almost person inside of him.

He’s fucking stupid. He’s stupid, and dumb, and he’s a fucking teenager with a pup on the way.

The tears stung his eyes.

He sank to his knees, one hand fisted in his own hair.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s not gonna tell Steve what to do with his own body. If he wants to have the pup, then Billy’s gonna fucking support him.

Because he’s not a shitty deadbeat.

And he loves Steve. He really does.

But he doesn’t believe in himself, though. There’s no fucking way they make this work.

There’s no fucking way they raise this pup, and stay together, and not traumatize the little thing.

There’s not a way in this fucking world.

-

“Alright, Steven.”

Steve was perched nervously on the exam table, his fingers in knots in his lap.

Billy was sitting against the wall, bouncing his leg and itching for a cigarette.

He hadn’t had one since Steve told him about the pup.

Two weeks ago.

He quit when Steve did. Not that Steve kept up the same level as Billy. There was a big difference between one or two cigarettes at a party, and nearly two packs a day.

But it wasn’t good for Steve, or the pup, so Billy took the most stressful time in his whole life so far, to quit smoking.

They were at Steve’s ten-week appointment. At the clinic in Indianapolis. The one where the front desk staff only raised an eyebrow at the boys’ fake I.D.s and didn’t ask for their parents’ contact information.

The doctor ushered Steve to lay back, pulling up his t-shirt to spread the clear jelly on his stomach, turning on the machine.

She located the fetus easily.

“Well, it looks like you’re coming along nicely. You’re at the proper growth for this stage, and the heartbeat’s nice and strong.”

Billy was staring at the monitor.

He couldn’t really make anything out. The machine was making this wooshing sound, like it was a scope underwater, and not a digital look into Steve.

But there was a little tiny blob in there. Something that looked like a little white bean nestled in Steve’s abdomen.

Their pup.

The doctor highlighted the little bean, zooming in and taking a capture of the image.

“Little pup's first picture.”

Steve’s scent went absolutely sweet, filling the room with sugar. Billy just reached out, taking his hand.

-

At the beginning of his pregnancy, Steve had terrible insomnia.

Billy would sneak out of his house to come over most nights, curling up behind Steve with one hand splayed wide on his slightly chubby tummy. He was always solid behind Steve. Warm and soft, a constant comfort to remind Steve that he wasn’t alone with the pup. That he had Billy to love them. To protect them and take care of them.

And sometimes, his warmth and steady breathing would be enough to lull Steve into a nice doze, or even to coax him into sleep.

But most nights, he was wide awake.

Steve didn’t want to keep Billy awake on those long nights, so he would sneak out of Billy’s gentle embrace, and sit on the couch downstairs in the sitting room. He would usually hang out in the quiet, just him and the little pup growing inside of him.

But then Billy would wake up, cold and alone, and would trudge downstairs to find Steve, and manhandle Steve until he was laying on top of Billy on the couch.

That’s where they were when Billy first spotted the grand piano in the corner of the room. Never noticed where it stood, collecting dust. Partially hidden by a large potted fern. He slid out from under Steve and took a seat at the leather padded seat, brushing his fingers over the glossy blackness of the beautiful piano.

Many of the keys were out of tune, as the thing hadn’t been played in years, but he plonked out a few easy scales.

Billy’s mom used to play. He had vivid memories of sitting on her lap, his hands on hers as she played beautiful songs. She taught him a few, once upon a time.

He struggled through one of the songs he could kind of remember, occasionally hitting the wrong key before correcting himself and continuing with the melody. He stumbled through what he could of Hey Jude before turning back to Steve, expecting to see a soft smile, big tired eyes blinking slowly back at him.

But Steve was dead asleep on the couch, both hands resting over his tummy.

Billy carried him up to bed.

That became their ritual on nights Steve couldn’t sleep.

Steve even decided to scour the poorly stocked music store and bought Billy lots of sheet music. He had just grabbed random stuff, and ended up with the weirdest assortment of things. Rock ballads and classical pieces. Swing jazz and a few beginner piano books.

Billy sifted through to find the easier stuff. He could still read sheet music well enough to slowly decipher the notes, but had to remind himself which keys corresponded to which note.

The piano was still out of tune and sometimes made the songs sound dreadfully wrong and quite nearly frightening, but it was peaceful. Quiet except for the sounds of the piano.

Steve was just content to sit next to him as he did it, holding onto his stomach, his head leaned gently against Billy’s shoulder.

-

They didn’t really tell Joyce.

Not exactly, anyway.

Steve and Billy were at Melvald’s, looking through the health section, throwing vitamins Steve’s OBGYN had recommended into the basket.

The basket was heavy, the metal handles digging into the meat of Billy’s palm. Nearly overflowing with expensive supplements that were meant to help their little pup grow into something fully formed and functioning.

Steve was being picky about the supplements. Taking the specific brands the doctor had recommended, reading the labels diligently to see if they said anything along the lines of Warning: Do not take while pregnant. Will give your pup an extra head.

Joyce was the only person at the check-out stand, and she made small talk while she scanned vitamins, shea butter, and produce, not even looking at the rattling plastic bottles.

Until one container wouldn’t scan. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands.

She faltered, and it was like the world came to a halt.

Prenatal Vitamins, omega specialized formula

She stared at it. Steve felt like he was gonna cry.

But she moved in a flash, shifting around the counter, and pulling Steve into a tight hug.

It took him a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around her.

“If you boys need anything, and I mean anything at all, you come get me.” Steve scrunched his eyes up, trying not to sob into her shoulder.

She pulled away, giving Billy a hug of his own.

He hooked his chin on her shoulder, and he kinda felt like he could cry too. She gave him a bone-crushing hug for someone so small.

She took Steve’s hand when she finally relinquished Billy.

“How far along are you?”

“Just about ten weeks.” She cooed, handing them their bags as Billy counted out bills.

“And you’re not even showing. With Jon, I must’ve put on thirty pounds.” Steve looked around.

He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt, mostly wearing too-big clothes of Billy’s these days, trying to hide what he could for as long as possible. He was beginning to get insecure about the weight he was gaining, even though it showed off the growth of their pup.

But he’s vain. And Steve’s the first to admit that.

He lifted his sweatshirt to show the shirt underneath, the tighter fabric showing off his little bump. Joyce smiled at them, and it made Steve feel so warm.

“I want copies of the very first sonogram.”

[bakubabes-tatakae]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy part 3/4 of my pieces for the second day of the anniversary collab for the @konoblog-simps. You can find all the lovely pieces for the day here! Today’s theme is angst and we’re gonna feel some sadness with Kuroo. Prepare your hearts for these pieces, lovelies. My last piece will be out in a couple of hours. You can find all the days of the collab here!

Pairing: Tetsurou Kuroo x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, car accident, fluff, reader in accident

Word Count: 1.2k

The loud ringing of his phone woke him from the sleep that he had so badly needed. Lately, life had been nothing but working overtime and practicing with the team. He glanced at the alarm clock and read the time. Was it really that late already? 11 am flashed in red LED as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand. 

Kuroo didn’t recognize the number so he hesitantly rolled to the side, half expecting to see your body lying next to his own. He shook off the weird feeling in his head and accepted the phone call. “Hello?”

As he waited for the person on the other end to answer he noticed the note that was lying on your pillow. 

Tetsu,

I ran to the store to get us something nice for breakfast and to make a coffee run. Be back soon!

Y/n 

The voice on the other end asked for him. “I’m looking for Tetsurou Kuroo?”

Kuroo pushed the blankets back and began to climb out of bed. “You’ve got him.”

The voice continued, but as they got further and further into their words he felt his blood run cold. “I’m calling from (hospital name), I have a Y/n L/n here. She was in a car accident and you’re listed as the emergency contact. We’re going to need you to come down to the emergency room. We’ve can’t disclose any more information over the phone.”

His heart began to beat out of his chest as he listened. He opened his mouth to speak back, but the words wouldn’t come out. 

“Sir, are you still there?”

When his words finally came out he had surprised himself. “I’ll be right there.”

As he ended the call he knew something terrible had happened. If you hadn’t been too injured you would have called him yourself, you would have insisted that you be the one to call him. That’s how you always were. As he stood still in the bedroom there was a thud on the floor in front of him, he hadn’t even realized that his phone had slipped from his grip. 

Kuroo bent down and picked it back up, a crack now running from one side to the other. The screen lit up and the picture he kept of the two of you on the front flashed for him. He unlocked it and dialed the number of the one person that he knew would drop everything and get to him. 

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up Kuroo?”

* * * * * * 

The drive to the hospital had felt like it was never going to end, despite how fast Bokuto had been driving them. He could feel his friends hurt and worry and wanted to get him to where he needed to be as quickly as possible.

As the car parked Kuroo had barely waited for the ignition to die. He jumped from the car with his best friend in tow and made his way to the front desk. People stared as they came running in, Bokuto apologizing softly to the people that had been cut off in Kuroo’s hurry. His hands slammed on the desk in front of the young girl and his voice was full of anxiety. “I’m Testurou Kuroo, I got a call about my girlfriend being in an accident.”

The young girl gave him a soft look and motioned behind her. “Please take a seat, I’ll go and get the doctor for you.”

As she walked away Kuroo held his head in his hands, Bokuto’s large hand grasping at his shoulder. “Hang in there, man. We’re gonna figure this out.”

His friend’s kind words made him feel a little better, but not nearly enough to dull the pain in his heart. The sound of an unfamiliar voice saying his name made him snap to attention. “Tetsurou Kuroo?” He looked into the face of a man in a white doctor’s coat, Boktuo right by his side as he made his way to him. “Come with me, we’ll talk in private.”

Kuroo’s heart started to beat out of his chest again, threatening to barrel up his throat at any moment. The hallways around him felt like they were going to close in on him, and that’s when they reached a room with a giant glass window, curtains open as he peered at you lying in a hospital bed. 

The doctor started talking, but Kuroo was only half listening. “She’s still unconscious right now. She’s got some cuts and bruises, maybe a few broken ribs and a wrist fracture, but we’ll know more of the extent of injuries when she finally wakes up.”

Kuroo’s hearing had nearly gone out the window as he reached for the door handle to your room. Bokuto attempted to grab him, but it was futile as he barged his way in. Bokuto turned back to the doctor and spoke. “Just tell me what’s going on. I’ll fill him in for you. He’s gonna need a minute.”

The doctor continued, his voice was muffled by the walls of the room as Kuroo approached your body. He pulled a chair next to your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his own and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Don’t let them see this. They can’t see you cry.

As Bokuto entered he cleared his throat. “Just keep your head up. Think positive thoughts even though I know how hard that is.”

Kuroo looked back up from the bed and Bokuto noticed the streak marks that now trailed on his cheeks. “What if she doesn’t wake up?”

Bokuto walked closer to his friend and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare say that.” Kuroo’s expression changed as he looked into his friend’s eyes. “If you say that then who else is there to hold out hope for her?”

Pangs of guilt now attacked him as he broke Bokuto’s grasp on his shirt. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Kuroo laid his head on the bed beside you and grasped your hand tighter. “She’ll wake up. I know she will.”

Bokuto took his place in a chair across the room and watched as stress and exhaustion took over his friend’s body and let him drift off to sleep. As hours passed he left a note on the chair he had sat in and headed down to the cafeteria for a late lunch. 

The sound of a small voice and the feeling of a hand in his hair had woken him. “Tetsu?”

As he realized that the voice had been the only one he had wanted to hear for hours he jolted from the bed. Your eyes were soft as you stared back at him. “Baby!” Kuroo nearly jumped onto the bed, wrapping you into his arms. “You’re okay. I was so worried.”

Your voice was weak as you reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere that soon. We haven’t lived our life together yet.”

His laugh was nervous as he gripped onto you tighter. “We’re gonna live every day together, my love. Don’t you worry about that.”

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @kyu-pine @ellechanwrites @barrysimpparker @impinthecloset @nikiniki743 @sssuckkii @aracynthos

©bakubabes-hatake’s original content, please do not repost/modify without my permission

[alicemitch09writes]

last love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: Nothing was the same anymore, that much was clear. But it is really? Is it really too late for it all?

author’s notes: This is the final part to the first love trilogy. Please go read the first one, then its sequel - skinny love, before this, otherwise you’ll be confused.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

He wakes up with a start – sweating all over, heart pounding against his chest, sleep slowly washes over before realizing where he was and the humid heat that was summer gracing his room. He let out a relieved sigh, falling back into his sheets.

“Tetsuroo, wake up already!” came his mother’s voice, which resounded through the house.

The teen waited until his heart calmed to finally get out of bed, still drenched in sweat. A mirror stood across him, revealing his image – still the same gangly guy with serious bed hair, but his eyes still looked tired, even though his bags had lessened.

Grabbing a towel, he takes a quick shower.

He pretends to not have seen the look on his mother’s face when he wolfs on his breakfast, giving her a quick sloppy kiss on the cheek, before grabbing his bag and leaves.

His phone rings – a text message, he flips his phone and sees a text from his sister, quickly typing a reply before going to the music app. Plugging on his earphones, he begins to walk down a familiar path.

Leaning his head back, clear blue skies greet him. It was too much of a good day today.

Closing his eyes, he soaked up on the light, warming his face. When he opened them, the train station was in clear sight, his steps quickened.

Four stops and twelve blocks later, and he was walking down a place he’s grown familiar with the past few months. The grass was still greener, the flowers were much brighter, and the trees were tall as ever – maybe because it was summer. But the paint job was still terrible, even though they had maintenance work on them.

Upon entering the hospital, he nods at the nurses and staff – all of which, were used to his presence for the past months, adjusting the weight of his right arm, carrying his bag.

Kuroo Tetsturou fell into a routine – he woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, made small talk with his parents or sister, and went to the hospital. It’s been that way for months.

He stood in front of the door, about to knock when he heard her – a soft strumming and singing.

“I love this place, but it’s haunted without you…”

He felt the familiar skip of his heart at the sound of her voice. Carefully pushing it open, he finds (Name), playing her ukulele, pen, and notebook on her lap.

“My tired heart is beating so slow,” A thoughtful look crosses her face as she sings as if testing the lyrics. She quickly sketches down on her notebook – chords, and lyrics, falling into her element. Picking her ukulele, she strummed slowly, trying the new lyrics – “Our hearts sing less than we wanted, we wanted, our hearts sing ‘cause we do not know, we do not know” –  a small smile gracing her lips when they came out.

Without even knowing, his body moved on its own accord, stepping inside and towards her.

The song had a light melody to it, repetitive on the notes, yet strangely melancholic and full of longing. Yet somehow, unfinished. She stopped for a moment, stumped, before going over it again. Despite her minor slip up, she smiled through it and went over the song again – she was a perfectionist like that.

The sound of the door clicking broke the moment, (Name) looking up to find Kuroo standing in front of him, surprise written all over her face.

“H-Hey, (Name).” Kuroo says, lifting a hand in greeting.

She gives him a nod, awkwardly glances at him, then back to her notes.

“How’s your song going?”

She fiddles with the page, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s coming.”

“I see.” He nods, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “By the way, I got something for you.” Putting his bag on the foot of her bed, he unzips it and takes out a pink package. “Sis bought some stuff for you, says you’ll be needing it once you get into college.”

Slowly, a smile forms on her face as she reached for it, Kuroo careful as to not let their fingers touch. “That’s nice of her.”

Sitting himself on the couch, he looked at the clutter of papers on the table – university brochures. “Have you decided on where to go? Or are you still bent on getting to where uncle is teaching?” he asked teasingly, especially on the last question, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Her lip curled by a fraction, hugging her instrument close. “…well, it is my dream school and all.”

Kuroo nods at that. “Well, knowing you, you’ll make it – with or without the influence of your dad.” She smiled at that, playing with the ends of her short hair. His eyes followed her fingers tangle in those (hair color) locks, remembering how strange it was to see her usual locks chopped off, of combing them when she was still unconscious.

A tense silence fills in – both teens staring at anything but each other, unsure of what to say next.

“How about you?”

Kuroo made a questioning hum.

“Keiji told me you’re yet to enroll into college,” there was her ever-present concerned tone, (eye color) eyes soft, yet, basing on her tone, there was no mistaking how carefully she had asked.

Peering up to her through his fringe, Kuroo contemplated on his next words. “I haven’t decided on a course yet.” He lied, shrugging offhandedly. “No worries, though, I’ve been working part-time.” That was half a lie, he had just started working at a small grocery store. A small distraction outside the four corners of his own home and the hospital.

Her brows furrowed slightly with worry before it eased away when a knock came from the door. Her doctor – a small middle-aged man named Dr. Ishioka peeked in, beaming at the sight of her.

“Good morning, (Last name)-chan.” Noticing she was not alone, he gave Kuroo a short nod. “And to you, too, Kuroo-kun.”

Kuroo returned the gesture, having been a familiar face in the hospital for the past few months.

“How are we today?”

 “Good,” she smiled, still hugging her ukulele, forgetting her stationary in front of her. When her doctor noticed, he merely gave it a glance. Having finally noticed at what he was looking at, she started looking sheepish. “A-Ah, I was just writing my song!”

The doctor smiled kindly. “And how is it?”

“I-It’s coming,” she replied, using the same answer she gave Kuroo earlier. “I get stuck on words, and things are a little fuzzy to figure out.”

The man nods, hands buried deep in his pocket. “That’s good, getting some brainwork done. However, don’t stress yourself, okay? You’ve been asleep for six months, and it’ll still take some time for your body to get used to moving.”

“She won’t,” Kuroo says aloud, (Name) and Dr. Ishioka turns to him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

(Name) nods dutifully, finally putting down her instrument.

In his professional eyes, there clearly was an underlying tension between the two. Instead of pushing into it, he knew where his limits were.

“Well, that’s good to hear then. You’re in good hands, (Last name)-chan.”

The girl looks up to the doctor, who gives her a kind smile before leaving her a few instructions, which Kuroo was quick to take note of, before leaving.

Just as the door closed behind him, he heaved a sigh, wishing the best for the two.

“(Last name)-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” a loud, jolly voice erupted in the room, making a dash for the girl. Barely a step in, Yaku kicked him in the back, grabbing the tall teen by the collar and pulling him back. “Geh- “

“Lev, control yourself! This is a hospital, not a playground! Geez, it’s like taking care of a giant baby.” Meeting her gaze, he lifted a hand. “Yo, (Last name), you look well.”

She laughed, eyes soft at the sight of the Nekoma team filling her room. Kenma, sitting beside her, had his eyes stuck to his console per usual.

“(Last name),” Noboyuki nods, holding out a fruit basket. “we brought you fruits.”

Her smile grew, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Kai!”

Kenma puts away his console and takes the fruit basket from the taller lad, putting it on a nearby table. He plucks an orange and disappears into the washroom, momentarily leaving (Name) with the Nekoma team.

“(Last Name)-san, your hair!” Inuoka pointed out. “It’s grown so much!”

She laughed at his comment, touching her hair consciously. “Yes, it has. My head feels lighter, actually.”

“Then, you’re keeping it short?”

She hums, tapping her finger to her chin in thought. “Who knows?”

“It looks good, actually,” Yaku commented. “Then again, it’s your hair, so it’s your choice.”

After the short pleasantries, the boys headed towards the couch and sat down, Fukunaga flipping through the channels. Kenma emerges from the washroom, sitting in his spot next to her.

“Ah, it’s your mom’s turn to watch you, right?” Noboyuki asked, sitting on the couch.

She hummed, nodding, Kenma placing the oranges on a table in front of her as he plumped and propped some pillows behind her, making sure that she was comfortable. When he was done, he sat down and began to unpeel his orange, (Name) mimicking him.

“Although" she broke into a sigh, breaking off pieces of the orange "I just wish I could get out of here, it’s so stuffy in here. Not to mention, it gets kind of scary at night.” She shuddered, blaming it on the time when the boys from Fukurodani visited and Bokuto, who had been channel surfing, stopped upon a horror film – particularly on a very scary scene. Lest to say, she didn’t sleep well that night and Bokuto was nearly banned from visiting her again.

“That’s understandable, hospitals tend to be scary,” Noboyuki says kindly.

“You can say that again!” roared Yamamoto.

“Yamamoto, shut up.” Yaku reprimands the loud-mouthed boy.

“Lev, how’s your read block training going?” as soon as the question was asked, the Russian tensed, beginning to sweat profusely.

“A-Ah, it’s going great!”

“He still sucks at it,” Kenma says, munching on a slice of orange with his eyes glued to his game console. “And no amount of practice seems to work, it’s like he’s meant for failure.”

“You can say that again,” says Yamamoto, arms folded against his chest. “he’s a hopeless cause.”

“H-Hey, I’ve been practicing!”

“Bless Nekomata-sensei for ever thinking you had a chance.”

“Yaku-san, not you, too!”

“Time to scoot, little newt!”

“Goddamn it, Fukunaga!”

(Name) couldn’t help but laugh, missing her rowdy boys.

A month of being holed in here was enough to drive anyone insane – everything was too gray, too cold and too dull. It meant so much to her whenever someone came to visit, bringing color to her room and warmth to her heart. Even as they all ganged up on Lev, she knew they really cared. And as far as Kenma’s told him – being vice-captain and all, Lev’s actually not bad. Though, he is quite clumsy with executing his offense and defense. She missed this, she really did.

But the thing was, it just wasn’t the same anymore.

It was hard to be around him anymore, that was a fact.

When she woke up, it looked like she had emerged from a different world. Kuroo quickly called the doctors, happy tears slipping down his face. Too happy to know that she finally woke up – after six months! – he almost forgot to ring her parents of her recovery.

A few hours later, when she slowly came to, he walked back in the room. Happy tears filled the room, the happy parents engulfing their finally awakened sleeping beauty.

But at the sight of him, she suddenly shook and cried – Kuroo quickly ran out of the room before anyone told him to, for her sake. All his worst fears came to life.

The doctors had assured him that it was just the effects of being unconscious for so long – it was difficult to adjust to her surroundings and the people she cared about. Her mind might still be subjected to her previous mindset, long before she went into a coma. So, when she woke up, there was a lot to take in for her. But with the help of doctors, her family, and friends, she was able to come through.

In a span of two weeks, (Name) was showing progress with her recovery. She was still subjected to strains when she overworked herself, especially when it came to brain exercise. But overall, she was doing well, her energy revitalized with the support of her family and friends. And ever since she woke up, there’s not a day when a friend – from Nekoma or Fukurodani – would drop by and visit.

In fact, the only time she ever seemed comfortable was when he wasn’t in the scene. She was much more comfortable with being in the presence of others than with his. And that hurt.

Things just weren’t the same anymore.

She knew that.

He knew that.

And it was all because of that one mistake of his. Just the thought of it made his gut churn, his hands balled into fists, his anger to rise, geared towards him.

There was no questioning of her newfound fear of him, after all, it was also his fault. Kuroo accepted his fate wholeheartedly, even though it killed him.

He could hear his thoughts twisting: of the reason that he stayed, was to ease himself of the guilt, to make him feel better about himself.

So, he came up with a decision, once she’s done with her rehab, when she finally gets discharged, he’ll leave her alone. As much as it pained him, he knew it was for the best.

After all, who was he in her life anymore?

“To light the night, to help us grow…” she mumbled, jolting down her notebook. “It is not said I always know…” Her nose scrunches, having hit a block. Frustrated, she throws her hand in the air, looking around her quiet room. Everything looked too dull, too gray. Instinctively, her hands reached to her right, where her ukulele usually lay, only to find it sitting on the chair across her – her father, had visited earlier and played her a song in an attempt to cheer her up.

(Name) sat up, turns to her side to lower the rail before sliding her feet off the bed. The cold tingle on her toes was a sensation she never knew she’d want to feel again, having been bedridden for months. Taking deep breaths, she lifted her feet off, remembering to bear the weight – feeling like a toddler walking for the first time.

Just as she reached her ukulele, a harsh voice called out. “Didn’t the doctor say you aren’t supposed to strain yourself?”

She looked up, meeting Kuroo’s furious gaze, seeing her out of bed.

Technically, according to the doctor, she could walk quite well now and advised her to do some exercise when she can. Kuroo couldn’t help but overreact.

“B-But…” without a word, he gently helped her back to her bed. She didn’t argue, her mission to grab her ukulele forgotten.

He sighed, pulling up a chair. “You do want to get out, right?” She nods, slowly, withdrawing her fingers away.

“D-Dr. Ishioka says I’m good to walk now.”

“Is that so?” she nods, like a petulant child. Kuroo sighs, eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“It’s okay.” Relaxing, she offered him a gentle smile, which lasted for a minute before realizing the bags under his eyes, how bloodshot his eyes were. “You seem tired.”

“Hm,” he yawned, massaging his throbbing temples. “shitty customer, don’t worry about it.”

“You should sleep.” she offered.

“I’ll be fine,” he calls off, turning his back to look for something to do, anything to avoid her eyes.

“Kuroo Tetsuroo,” she called, using her tone – one he and Kenma were fairly familiar with, even the team. It pleased her to see him tense, slowly facing her. A triumphant smile was ready to break into her face, but concern about his welfare won over.

His shoulders slumped, surrendering. That made her smile, a tiny bit triumphant, before patting on her side. Instead, Kuroo resigned to sitting on a chair next to her bedside, leaning forward to rest his head on his folded arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down?” she offered, clearly displeased.

“I’m fine like this,” he tells her softly. I got used to it.

She looked like she wanted to argue but quickly closed her mouth shut. She moved closer so that he was laying on her lap. “Tetsuroo?”

“Hmm?”

“I-I wanna go to the gardens tomorrow, to stretch my legs.”

“All day?”

She nodded shyly, determined.

“Okay then, walking all day it is. By the way, how’s the song coming?”

Her shoulders fell, dejected. “It’s coming…I’m just stuck…”

Kuroo laughed, muffled by the sheets. And then he broke into a yawn, his head heavy, throbbing, eyelids drooping close but he fought to stay awake. Thin fingers soothingly ran through his hair, like they usually did, easing the tension from his head and replacing it with the sense of calmness.

“Hey, (Name)?” She leaned close, face illuminated by the moonlight. How he wanted to touch her face. “Sing me a song?

Smoothing her fingers through his hair, a soft smile crept its way to his lips, especially when she began to sing. His heart tugged, slowly beating faster – he always loved hearing her sing with or without an instrument. In one exhale, his subconscious slipping, the last thing he heard was her sweet voice and the beating of his heart.

“Hey, (Name).”

“Hm?”

“Why have you been avoiding Kuroo?”

She froze, slowly turning her head to blond-dyed teen beside her, hands folded against his chest and console free. He watched her from the corner of his eye, golden eyes inquisitive, waiting.

“Of course, you knew.” She smiled, leaning into his shoulder. “It’s not that I’m avoiding him…it’s just,” she lifted her hands, making gestures before letting them fall. “I-I don’t know how to talk to him...I’m not sure I want to. Just…being around him makes me feel like a black hole if that even makes sense.” The blank TV screen in front of her bed reflected the two, lying side by side on her bed, but she could also see the view outside her window – a dark blanket of night, the moon obscured by clouds.

“Hey, Kenma?” There was a question she was dying to ask, gnawing her the moment she woke up. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready for the answer, regardless of what it was. “My mind’s a bit fuzzy, and I was unconscious and all, but I do remember voices in the dark.” Swallowing thickly, she says. “A-And I swore I heard Tetsuroo.”

Kenma’s eyes noticeable widened, his shoulders heavy from bearing weights of two sides. In his head, he was debating whether he should tell her or not – he was obligated to, after all.

“Yeah, that was him.” He exhaled, recalling the past six months. “Kuroo didn’t leave your side since he found out you were admitted.”

She let out a weak gasp, the dam breaking. Alarmed, the blonde turned to his friend. “Why are you crying? Are you happy? Sad?”

“Both.” She sobbed, crying against his shoulder. But also, she felt incredibly guilty.

Kenma sighed, really, these two were a handful. When they talked, they both had to be careful of the other, as if they threaded on thin ice. He’s had enough of bearing their secrets, especially when it concerned the other – it made him the third wheel.

But as frustrating as they were, they were still his friends and he cared about them.

A few months into (Name) under coma, Kuroo Tetsuroo received word that he had been qualified for the colleges he applied for, one, in particular, was in the United Kingdom. Driven by guilt, he had to turn down their offers of scholarships for her, too broken to even take a step forward.

A day after she woke up, he called the admissions, asking if he was still qualified. To his luck, he still was.

Although the semester wouldn’t be until next month, Kuroo’s things were all packed. He didn’t bother saying a word to anyone, it was for the best.

It was a dick move, but then again, he was a dick.

This was the biggest leap of faith in his life, the opportunity of a lifetime, he had to take it. Yet, as much as his heart yearned for it, it felt like he was taking the easy way out.

He’ll miss Tokyo, his home, his family, his friends.

But what he’ll miss the most was her.

It’ll be alright, he thought to himself. After all, she’ll be off to college, her dream school, where she can start anew.

And as much as he hated the thought of it, he knew that she’ll meet someone else, someone who’ll treasure her in ways he failed to.

It felt surreal to be outside again, to have the sun and the wind kiss her skin. Hands instinctively flew to her hair as the wind picked up, remembering that it was still growing and it was cropped short.

What’s more surreal was the audition she got for her dream school, which was in a week’s time, having considered her situation. Nekoma was going to have a practice match soon with Karasuno, a mini-reunion was planned by the two schools. She was finally going to meet Kenma’s special someone he met at a Game Expo. It was almost too much for her heart to take.

But something was missing in all this fanfare – Kuroo.

For days, she hasn’t heard a word from him, hasn’t seen from him since. If she traced it back, it started just a day before she was released. She missed him. She really did. Her heart ached just to see a familiar hide of messy black hair, his gangly form, his easy smile.

And then she received a call from Bokuto, frantically telling her that Kuroo was at the hospital.

Apparently, he was out drinking with a few friends and suddenly got into a fight. Although he started it, he didn’t fight back, allowing the guy to beat him to a pulp. Had Bokuto not been there and Kuroo’d be critical.

Without a word, she ran out of her house, thoughts flying to Kuroo.

Upon arrival, her heart broke at the sight of him, hating that his arm was bandaged, the bruises and stitches on his face. She had the exact look of heartbreak when he saw her, all the guilt washed over her as she rushed to his side.

“What happened to you, Tetsurou?” he smelled of blood, dirt, sweat, and alcohol, but she didn’t care. “I know you’re one to pick fights, but I never thought you’d go this far.”

He turned away, avoiding her in eyes. That hurt. Kenma’s words surfaced, making her heart twinge.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked Bokuto angrily, completely ignoring her presence. She flinched at his tone, mind flashing to a certain memory.

“She was the best person to call,” Akaashi answered calmly, appearing next to the grey-haired teen. “Kuroo-san, go home. And more importantly, you and (Last name)-san need to talk.”

“Eh? But Akaashi, don’t you think Kuroo’s out of it?”

“I’m very much sober, thank you very much.” Kuroo threw a glare at the raven-haired setter, ignoring Bokuto’s concern, or (Name)’s.

After being given painkillers, Kuroo was good to go. And before anyone could stop him, he walked out of the hospital.

(Name) looked at the two teens worriedly before chasing after him, calling after his retreating form. But he didn’t look back, not even once. She didn’t stop chasing after him either.

Finally, he stopped by the riverside next to the bridge – the same one she found he and Kenma some years ago. Although puzzled, she followed him down the steps. Knowing that she was behind him, that she wouldn’t leave him alone, Kuroo sighed – ignoring the pain from his chest. He sat down, she took it as an invitation, sitting a step above him.

The silence between them was thick with a heavy weight of guilt wrought by the past few months, hearts burdened heavily. It was almost unbearable to even breathe, running away was the perfect option, yet the two stayed, another option weighing heavier.

They remain like that for at least an hour, the night growing older with every second. Two teenagers too afraid to tell the other what they wanted to say, fear holding them back.

Finally, for what seemed like forever, Kuroo exhaled through his nose, a heavy sigh. That was never a good sign. “I’m going to Cambridge.”

Her head whipped to him, he worried she’d get a whiplash. But she didn’t, her world just stopped. “W-What…?”

Sighing again, he pressed his forehead to his palms, unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but this was for the best.

“The next semester won’t start until next month, but in a few days or weeks, I was called to take a test and offered a scholarship. So, I leave sometime this month.”

She could feel her heart twisting with every word he said, and she hated it – hated the way he talked to her, hated how he seemed to avoid her. Then again, she pretty much did the same thing when she woke up. She missed him, she really did.

Brought by the pent-up emotions she’s been feeling, she called out, in a shaky tone. “Hey, Tetsu, won’t you listen to my song?”

Song? He peeked up at her. So, she finally got to finish her song.

Swallowing hard, she reached for her ukulele – the sight of the band-aid sent a sharp pain in his heart, a painful reminder – fingers positioned over the strings, shaking just by a fraction. Before he could stop her, she glanced up at him and began singing.

  I love this place

But haunted without you

My tired heart is beating so slow

Our hearts sing less than we wanted

We wanted

Our hearts sing cause

We do not know

We do not know

 Her singing was as gentle as her music, enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He was reminded of the many times she’d sing to him, in times when he was at his lowest. To cheer him up, all it took was a few comforting words, a gentle smile, a warm hug, or her offering a song. It was cheesy, but he loved it, especially because when she sang to him, it would be only him and just him alone, making it very personal for him. He was selfish like that, especially with her.

  To light the night

To help us grow

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

 Of course, you don’t, he thought laughingly.

He could feel the longing in her voice, the loneliness – it made her seem like she was a princess locked up in a tower. Its lyrics tugged at him, knowing the feeling so well.

When their eyes met, he saw the young woman he fell in love with when they were 8, the young woman who held his heart now.

  You can catch me

Don't you run

Don't you run

If you live another day in this happy little house

The fire’s here to stay

 The emotion in her eyes made his throat dry, tugging his heart – did she just?

  To light the night

To help us grow

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

 His heart was hammering wildly against his chest, a rush of emotions burning inside, igniting his veins. The words were at the tip of his tongue, heart ready to burst out of his chest to tell her.

But not just yet, he didn’t want to jinx it, couldn’t bring himself to, he wanted to hear more.

  Please don't make a fuss

It won't go away

The wonder of it all the wonder that I made

I am here to stay

I am here to stay

Stay

  Overwhelmed by her emotions, by the pent-up emotions she’s withheld for so long, tears began streaming down her face uncontrollably. Alarmed, Kuroo quickly took her ukulele aside and enveloped her in his arms.

At his touch, everything she’s been holding in surfaced - missing him, loving him. “I’m sorry!” she cried, returning the hug, tightening her hold on him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t say you’re sorry.” He pulls back to plant a kiss to her forehead, thumbs brushing her tears away. “Don’t you ever feel sorry, (Name).” He whispered against her skin.

Kenma’s neutral look of displeasure came to mind. He felt like an idiot. How could he be so stupid to have dismissed her feelings over his?

(Name) couldn't stop crying, her heart was so full of emotions that it seemed like it would burst anytime. She felt loved, so loved in Kuroo's arms - from the boy she's loved for so long. And somehow, his embrace made everything better, everything was forgiven, forgotten – yet, it made things worse at the same time.

“Tetsurou, please don’t go…” glossy (eye color) eyes begging, his heart aching. She couldn't take not having him by her side, couldn't take the thought of losing him. “Don’t go, please.” Gentle hands reached up to cup his face, tears continuing to stream down. “Stay, please.”

Oh, those (eye color) eyes, she had no idea of its effect on him.

“Stay?”

Placing his larger hands in hers, he leaned his forehead with hers, their noses bumping.

“Always.”

[mintyminyoongi]

Idiots

Pairing: Min Yoongi x ReaderRating: T

Word Count: 7.8k

Trigger warnings: None 

Summary: Imagine you love Yoongi and Yoongi loves you but you’re both idiots and can’t say it. Or better yet, read about it.

Normally, when your phone starts ringing at 2:00 AM, you would curse the living daylights out of the person on the other end of the line. Maybe ask them if they were raised by barbarians or looking to get fully throttled. 

But when you finish grumbling curses under your breath and crack an eye open to look at your screen, you can’t help the way your heart flops over a little. Yoongi. You swipe your thumb across the screen to answer before it goes to voicemail. 

“You better be dead or dying,” you groan into the receiver. 

You hear him curse under his breath and some fumbling around. “I, um, am not dying. Coincidentally. I forgot to check the time again.” 

His low, drawling voice sends a shiver down your spine, as always. “Yeah, you did.” You find yourself chuckling, despite your initial anger. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You were sleeping?” 

You laugh fully this time. “Yeah Yoongi, I was sleeping. Like most people do at two in the morning on a Wednesday.”

“Ugh, sorry Y/N.” He sighs into the phone. 

You frown and roll in your sheets, sitting up fully. “Hey, you okay? It’s  been a while since you’ve spaced on time like this.” 

About three years ago, you met Yoongi. You’d just graduated from university and had been able to get an internship at a tech start up in Seoul. It was shit pay and crazy hours but you loved the work. 

You had met Yoongi in a cafe, late one night. Officially, you were off the clock but you had taken your laptop with you to try and catch up on some of your assignments. The cafe was close to your apartment, open late and had cheap, strong coffee. 

Yoongi had been set up at one of the far tables, feline eyes droopy despite the numerous coffee cups littering his table. He had a fancy set of headphones on and his bleached blonde hair had dark roots growing in. 

The cafe was busy, even during this time of night so you took one of the last empty tables near him. You tried to get work done, honestly. But between your sleep deprivation, over caffeination and this gorgeous boy sitting a table away, it was difficult. 

So he naturally caught you staring at him. And your best way to save face was to point dumbly at your own ear. His brow furrowed but he pushed one headphone off his ear anyway. 

“Sorry, just... I could hear your music through the headphones. It’s a little distracting.” It wasn’t, you could barely hear it over the other cafe noises. “Also, it’s bad for your hearing. To play music that loud.”

You wanted to disappear. Like wholly, from this plane of existence and any others that were out there. 

But he just looks at you with an amused, crooked smile. 

You didn’t know at the time that Yoongi was a successful rapper. He went by the name Agust D, and had just gotten back from his first tour after the release of his mixtape. 

And the formation of your friendship went just like that. He needed a friend that didn’t care about his fame or his reputation. And you just needed a friend. 

So what if you thought he was incredibly hot and talented and funny… Yoongi had never shown you any interest, romantically. And that was fine with you. His friendship meant the world to you. 

Anyway, Yoongi wasn’t the best at taking care of himself. So when he calls you in the middle of the night, it’s almost always because he’s been locked in his studio all day and has lost all sense of time. 

He sighs, not answering you right away. “I’m okay. Just- stuck on a song.”

You furrow your brow. “When did you eat last?” 

A beat of silence. “Um.”

“Yoongi.” You bite your tongue to hold back the full lecture. “How about sleep?”

An even longer pause. “I took a nap this afternoon,” he says. “Or wait. What day is it?” 

“Alright, that’s enough. Go home. Take a shower, sleep in an actual bed. You’re not doing yourself any favors running on fumes.” 

“I know.” 

“Nope, not buying it. I wanna hear you leave the studio.” 

“Woman,” he sighs under his breath. “Fine.”

You can hear him shutting down the programs on his computer, almost feeling the way he’s making mental notes of where to pick up in the morning. 

“So, which song is giving you trouble?” 

Yoongi starts to describe the track, how he wants a syncopated rhythm but it’s not hitting right. He muses all the way during his walk home about different things he can try.

You curl back up into bed, just listening to him and giving what little insight you could. It kind of pained you to admit how much just the sound of his voice affected you. 

Before long, you hear his front chime open. “Okay, I’m home.” You hope you were imagining just how exhausted he was. Even though you know you weren’t. 

“Good. Please take care of yourself, Yoongi. You’re starting to give me gray hairs.”

Yoongi just huffs into the phone. “Thank you, Y/N. I am sorry for waking you up. Tomorrow’s your big presentation right?” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Yeah, it's at nine. So like,” you wince as you look at your screen. “Six hours.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. Honestly. I’m used to running on no energy and all coffee.”

You could tell he didn’t feel better with that answer. “We're still on for movie night on Friday?” 

“Yes please. I’ve been killing myself trying to avoid spoiler alerts.” 

“Okay, great. I’ll bring snacks to make it up to you.” 

You thought about protesting but knew it would be pointless. “That sounds like a fabulous idea. Now go get some sleep! And when you eat in the morning, it needs to be something that doesn’t come out of a plastic package, you hear me?”

“Aish, woman, let me live,” he gripes but you know him well enough that you can practically picture the smile on his face. “See you Friday. Good luck with the presentation, you’re gonna kill it.” 

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You hang up and have to force yourself back to sleep, always getting a bit of a high from talking to him. 

On Friday night, you were running around your apartment like a mad woman, trying to get it clean before Yoongi shows up. Even though he was terrible with the concept of time, he was never late to your movie nights. 

You had stayed late at work talking to your boss about your presentation from the day before. So when Yoongi showed up at your door right on time you were still in your work clothes, hair a mess. 

“Hi, come in. What the-” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head when you see how many bags he’s carrying. 

“I said I would bring snacks,” he says sheepishly, cheeks tinted a dusty pink. 

“Yoongi, this is like a whole store.”

He sets the bags down on your kitchen counter. “I felt bad about waking you up.”

You shove his arm, eyes widening further as he starts unbagging everything. “I told you it was fine, you dope! This is way too much food.” 

Just as he opens his mouth your doorbell rings. Yoongi looks at you guiltily, a bag of your favorite chips in his hand. 

“I may have also ordered pizza from that place you like.” 

You wanted to smack him and kiss him in the same instant. That pizza was the perfect way to end a long, stressful week. “Well, you answer the door. I’m going to change clothes.”

In your room, you quickly change into sweats and a t-shirt. You fix your hair into a normal, less insane ponytail and make your way back into the kitchen. 

You find Yoongi staring at you as you drop your hands from your hair. “What?” 

He coughs, looking down. “Nothing. The food’s all ready.”

You frown a little but leave it. Then you see the three pizza boxes sitting on the counter. “Min Yoongi you did not order three pizzas and buy all these snacks.” 

He squawks a little, unable to form words for a second. “Will you just take my apology already?” 

Your heart seizes a little at his sincerity and you try not to read into it. “Fine. Apology accepted.” You cross your way into the kitchen, grabbing some plates out of the cabinet. 

“How did your presentation go, by the way?” 

“Oh my god it went great, Yoongi! My boss loved the idea of an integrated software, and he gave me the lead on it.” You turn to see him watching you attentively, a proud smile on his face. 

“And this is the first time you’ve been the lead, right?” 

“Yeah, at least one of this size. It’s gonna be a lot of work but I’m really excited.” 

Once again, Yoongi gives you this unreadable look. His gaze makes you feel squirmy so you hand him a plate. “Well I’m proud of you, Y/N. You’ve really made a name for yourself at that company.” 

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You cracked open the first pizza box and could’ve started drooling. “Oh my god, this smells amazing.”

When you’re thoroughly surrounded on the couch with more pizza, snacks and wine than any two people could need, you start the movie.

You and Yoongi had started making movie nights a habit about a year ago. Every month you both find time to make it work. It was kind of your favorite thing but you wouldn’t tell him that. 

You really were trying to reign in your feelings for him. It didn’t seem fair, when Yoongi was only looking for platonic companionship. So you keep respectable inches between the two of you as you queued up the movie. 

Yoongi gave you a judgy look at the moan you let out around your first bite of pizza but a swift elbow to the ribs made him look away. 

The movie was pretty good, it was a slasher movie that came out earlier in the year. You watched with your mouth hung open in disbelief as the killer rose from the dead for the third time and snuck up on the lead actress. 

“Oh, come on, they can’t be serious.” You lean forward on the couch cushion, thoroughly enveloped in the plotline. As the killer brandishes a kitchen knife and raises it above his head, your reflex is to smack Yoongi in the arm. 

“Why doesn’t she just turn around?” you demand. “The house is like 800 years old the floorboards are creaking louder than your snoring.” 

You can feel Yoongi look at you in offense. “First you hit me then you insult me?” 

The girl on the screen eventually turns around and a chase ensues. You turn to Yoongi. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you. I just get so wound up at these movies.” 

“Oh, but you meant to insult me?” He says, an eyebrow raised. 

Damn, he looks good sprawled out on your couch. The thought comes unbidden. You bring yourself back to the present, to the sound of screaming and shrill horror music in the background. The present with Yoongi sitting on your couch. 

“Yeah, I mean have you heard your snoring?” 

“When have you heard me snore?” he demands.

You turn to face him on the couch, the movie forgotten for the moment. “Like three months ago, when you showed up at my door, completely wasted. You stumbled around my apartment for twenty minutes and then you passed out on the couch. You snored. All night.” 

Yoongi looks at you with his mouth hung open, speechless. He shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it. “I completely forgot about that night.”

“Yeah, it was after some event at your label. You showed up smelling like cheap perfume and whiskey, barely able to stand up straight. I gave Namjoon an earful the next day for letting you get that drunk.” 

Yoongi scoffs, suddenly finding the hole in the knee of his jeans very interesting. “He didn’t let me do anything. I can be pretty stubborn when it comes to that stuff.” 

You nod, not understanding where the uneasy mood came from. “That’s pretty much what he told me. He said that you showed up to the event pissed off, that you were an asshole the whole night and he couldn’t keep you in check.” 

“Yeah I wasn’t myself that night.” 

He still wouldn’t look at you.

 “I remember,” you say. “I’d never seen you that far gone before. Namjoon said he hadn’t either.” 

Yoongi stays silent. For long enough that you started to turn back to the TV screen, not wanting to push him. 

Truthfully, that night had kind of scared you. He had been almost incoherent when you let him in. Yoongi was a fan of a good whiskey but he usually didn’t get that drunk, let alone wasted like that. You hadn’t known what to do so you kind of just stood back as Yoongi mumbled to himself, shucking his jacket and boots before falling onto the couch and passing out. 

He says something under his breath and even though you were right next to him you didn’t catch it. You wince as a bloodcurdling scream comes from the TV screen. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. 

“What did you say?” You ask him, scooting a little closer. 

Again, he stays quiet. At which point you’re starting to get annoyed, so you let out a huff and flop back against the couch cushion.

“You had a date that night.” 

You stare uncomprehendingly at the gory scene on the TV before looking at him. “What?” 

He had turned his gaze to you, but not in your eyes. He’s looking somewhere around your shoulder, you think. 

Yoongi runs his tongue over his teeth before answering you. “That night, you had a date with some guy from your office.”

You think back, remember that you’d had a date with Minho. He was in the advertising department of your company. He had a really cute smile and loved cats so you thought you’d give him a chance. 

You thought if you just actively started dating that you would get over your stupid crush on Yoongi faster. 

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. 

Even though Minho was attractive, and he had really funny stories you only found yourself thinking about Yoongi all night. The date had ended when he walked you to your door, and kissed your cheek. You told him it had been a nice night but you didn’t think you saw him as more than a friend. Things had been awkward around the office for a few days but he took it graciously and you two are friends now. 

Yoongi had shown up not long after you’d gotten back. You were still in your dress, heels kicked off by the door. You remember now, he had given you a once over and scoffed before stepping past you into the apartment. Before you’d gone on the date, you’d told Yoongi about it. You thought maybe if he hyped you up it would help you be more excited for it. 

Instead, he just said “have fun” and didn’t speak to you for the rest of the night. Until he showed up at your door, so drunk he couldn’t stand straight. 

He never asked about the date, you didn’t think he even remembered it. He certainly didn’t seem like he cared about it at the time. 

Belatedly, you realize the end credits are rolling on the screen. 

And Yoongi is staring at you. Not at your shoulder or somewhere in the vicinity. Right at you. 

“Yoongi…” You say, because you didn’t know what else to say.

He gulps down the rest of his wine and turns to face you fully. “I-I didn’t have the right to be jealous but I was. Of him. So I went to that stupid fundraising event and focused on the free drinks and the easy women. And ended up here anyway.” 

You swallowed thickly, trying not to overthink what he was saying. “You were jealous?” The words are strained as you say them. Your hands curled into fists because the bite of your nails in your palms helps to ground you. 

Yoongi leans in a little, sucks in a quick breath. He opens his mouth to speak just as the movie kicks back to the main menu, the title music blaring through the speakers. 

You jump reflexively. You didn’t realize how close you’d gotten to him, your face barely a few inches from his. So close you can see his pupils dilate, can smell the sweet red wine on his breath. 

And just like that, Yoongi seems to snap out of something. He stands from the couch and picks up your dirty plates and wine glasses. He’s already in the kitchen, loading the dishes in the washer when you feel yourself snap back into reality.

What the hell was that?

You were pretty sure you weren’t misreading things. He was jealous that you were dating other people. Well, had dated other people. Honestly you were tired of the whole song and dance. You hadn’t been on a date since Minho. When the right guy came along, you would try again. But you hadn’t found anyone that could hold a candle to Yoongi. And you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. 

But… why was Yoongi jealous? He was famous, had tons of beautiful idols and models and actresses he could pick from. Maybe he was just jealous of having a normal dating life. 

Either way when you shuffle into the kitchen with the bowls of snacks, you couldn’t ignore the tension in Yoongi’s shoulders. The dishes were all loaded but he stood at the sink, clutching the edge of the counter. 

“Yoongi.” This was new for you. You’d never felt uncertain around him before. Maybe shy, when you caught yourself thinking about his adorable smile or strong hands. But never uncertain. 

He cleared his throat and turned abruptly. “I forgot I have an early morning tomorrow. I should get going.” 

You frown, not wanting to leave things in this weird state. You follow him to the door where he’s pulling on his coat. “Yoongi,” you try again. 

He falters, head hanging low. 

“Will you just tell me what’s bothering you?” You finally demand. 

Yoongi turns swiftly, pulling you close to him by your waist. He leans his forehead against yours and you suck in a breath, gasping it out at his proximity. Usually you’re the one initiating the contact, little side hugs or poking his cheeks when he’s grumpy. You always tease him about his fear of intimacy.

He huffs out a breath and closes his eyes. His hands tighten their grip on your waist. 

You let him hold you. Part of you can tell he somehow needs this. You wonder if he can feel how heavily your heart is beating inside your chest. It feels thunderous to you. 

Yoongi shifts, turning his face into your neck. You feel yourself relax a bit. This feels more familiar, closer to the hugs you’ve shared before. You allow yourself to wrap your arms around him, hoping to bring him some comfort. 

“Don’t date anyone else.” 

The words are soft, spoken against the skin of your neck. But you hear them perfectly. And your heart skips a beat all the same. “Yoongi-”

He moves, pulling his face from the crook of your neck. It takes him a minute to bring his eyes up to meet yours. And it almost seems to pain him when he croaks out “Please, Y/N.” 

One of your hands seems to have its own mind as it combs through the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes close a little as he waits for your answer. “Okay,” you whisper. 

His sharp gaze snaps up to yours and it takes you aback. Your hormone addled brain thinks that he’s going to kiss you. And it really seems like he’s going to. He moves one of his hands from your waist to cradle your face in his palm. 

You lick your lips subconsciously and Yoongi’s eyes dart down to watch the action. And then something happens in his brain because he’s letting you go and backing away. “I should go,” he mutters as he pulls a mask from his coat. 

Something about his tone is final. You don’t want to push it or question him. He turns back to you when he’s out in the hallway. “I’ll call you later.” 

You nod, thoroughly overwhelmed and incapable of forming a response. And then he’s gone. And you close the door and have to ask yourself if you didn’t just dream the whole thing. 

You were slammed at work the next week, trying to get the initial details of your new project hammered out. And maybe the lack of communication from Yoongi encouraged you to throw yourself headfirst into the work. Because you really didn’t want to stop and think about what your conversation that night had meant. 

‘Don’t date anyone else’? That could really only mean one thing, right? If he didn’t want you dating anyone else it was so you could be with him. Right?

Or maybe he just meant he didn’t want you dating the wrong guys, to protect you or whatever. As if he could know that Minho or any of the other guys you’d dated were “wrong”. 

And this whirling blackhole of a thought process is exactly why you’d been staying late every night this week. 

The sun had been down for hours when you finally left your office building. You’re on the subway home when Yoongi calls you. Your eyes widen and you feel your heart stutter a bit when you see his name on the screen. 

When you answer the phone you immediately hold the receiver away from your ear, the speaker blasting music and overlapping chatter from a crowd. “Yoongi?” 

You think you can hear him saying something in the background. After a few moments you hang up. He must’ve called accidentally. And you have to kick yourself for getting so excited. 

He’s out at a club or a concert, judging by the noise. It could be for work or for pleasure. Either way, he’s out with people and probably other girls- 

You have to stop yourself. He’s not yours. 

You get through the train ride and the walk home with a set jaw. This was exhausting. This weird, in-between thing was way worse than just suppressing your feelings altogether. 

It was a little after 10:00 when he started texting you. You’d just finished eating a bowl of instant noodles over the sink when you see it. And from the first text you could tell he was drunk. 

10:11 Yoongi: I MISs you

10:15 Yoongi: Y/N

10:15 Yoongi: This palace sucks

10:19 Yoongi: wis

10:19 Yoongi: I wish

10:20 Yoongi: Wish yu were hr

10:23 Y/N: Yoongi, you’re drunk. Text me when you’re sober. 

Not long after your message he tries calling again. It pains you to do it but you let it go to voicemail. Nothing he says right now is going to keep you from combusting. 

So you try to occupy yourself with a few episodes of trashy reality TV until you think you’re tired enough to go to bed. Yoongi hadn’t texted or called again. You hoped it was because he went home. Your brain strayed to some other girl catching his attention at whatever club he was at. Imagined her taking his mind off of you and his phone. 

You bite your lip to stem off the ridiculous tears that spring into your eyes at the thought. He’s not yours, you remind yourself again.

The incredibly overwhelming sense of deja vu hits you when your ringing phone wakes you in the early hours of the morning. Yoongi’s face is on your screen. Maybe it’s because your brain is more than half asleep or because part of you is desperate to know if he went home alone that you answer the call.

You were grateful that you didn’t immediately hear the noise of pounding bass and drunk people in the background. But you do hear traffic noise, lots of it. 

“Yoongi?” 

“Y/N, what time is it?” His voice is still heavy with alcohol and you wince. 

“It’s like one in the morning, Yoongi. Where are you?” 

“Fuck. I told you I wouldn’t call you like this again.” He mumbles and you can imagine his lips forming that adorable pout. You have to shake your head out of that thought process when you hear a car horn too close for comfort.

“Yoongi, listen to me. Where are you? Are you safe?” 

There’s a moment of silence as you imagine him looking around. “I’m- near the um, that corner store where you spilled soda all over me that one time. ‘member?” 

“Yeah, I remember. Yoongi, can you get yourself a ride? You should go home and sleep this off.” 

He continues talking, as if he didn’t hear you. And maybe he didn’t. He sounded just like that night, months ago. Who knows how much he’s had to drink. “You were so… so flustered and I-I remember you asking me how much my shirt cost because you were worried you wouldn’t be able to pay me back. And I told you it was just a regular t-shirt but really it cost $300 and I never told you that. And you were so cute. You were stuttering, and your cheeks were so red.” 

“You- you kept trying to clean me up and everyone in the store was staring. I kind of realized then that you were maybe the cutest girl I had ever seen. Like, the cutest. But I didn’t… I didn’t know how to say that. Because I don’t like people and there are very few that I choose to spend time around.” 

While (a very large) part of you loved this confession, you know it didn’t count. He was so incredibly drunk and would probably not remember any of this in the morning. And since you couldn’t see him, all your brain can imagine is that he’s about to stumble into traffic at any moment. 

“Yoongi please. I need you to put me on speaker while you get yourself a taxi. I need to know you’re safe.” 

He cuts himself off. All of a sudden the traffic noise is much louder so he must’ve put you on speaker. He grumbles as he’s tapping through the app. “Y/N thank you for taking such good care of me.” 

“You’re welcome, Yoongi.” Your voice comes out whisper-soft and he might not have heard you over the rushing cars, 

He must take you off speaker because he’s easier to hear again. “Says it should be here in ten minutes.” 

You exhale, not even realizing how worried you had been. “Okay, good.” 

“You interrupted me, you know.” Again, you can picture the pout on his face so clearly. 

You chuckle a little, leaning back against your headboard. “You’re right I did.” 

“Where was I?” You notice his Daegu accent is slipping in the more he talks. You wish it didn’t affect you as much as it did. “Oh, that people suck. Not you though, Y/N. You don’t suck and I’ve been scared to tell you that because I love our friendship. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Your heart flutters. You try to keep reminding yourself not to read too much into this. He’s drunk and has never said anything along these lines when he’s sober. He’s had all the opportunity. But maybe you’re a masochist because you ask. “Fuck what up, Yoongi?”

He sighs. “I hate that I’ve never had the guts to say any of this to you sober. I’m such a coward, Y/N.” 

As if you somehow know what he’s going to say, you try to stop him. “Yoongi, wait.” 

“I love you, Y/N. I’m fucking stupid because I love you and I can’t even say it to your face.” 

Tears sting into your eyes because this feels so surreal and it almost physically pains you to hear the words you’ve been dreaming about for so long. 

You think you hear him getting into the cab when a car door slams shut and the traffic noise is much more muffled.  “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he sighs happily, like he’s glad to have it off his chest. 

You have to steel yourself because you can feel your brain slipping into La La Land. “Yoongi, you are drunk. Hang up and call me when you’re sober.” 

He chuckles a little. “So bossy. Just because I’m hanging up, doesn’t mean I’ll forget that I love you,” he croons. 

“Christ,” you mutter under your breath and hang up.

You flop against your pillows and try to calm your racing heart. What. The. Fuck. 

In all of your fantasies about Yoongi you had never let yourself imagine he would say those words to you. It was too painful. 

It was painful even now. Until you could talk to Yoongi face to face, you couldn’t know what he meant, if he meant any of it at all. So you were reminding yourself of this, to keep yourself sane as you lay spread eagle on your bed. Wondering what you did in your past life to deserve this kind of emotional turmoil.

When there’s a knock on your door. And a very drunk Yoongi calling your name through the cheap wood. 

You run to the door to let him in before he wakes up any of your nosy neighbors. When you open the door, Yoongi almost falls across the threshold. You reach out on instinct to steady him and close the door promptly behind him.

“Would you shut up?” you hiss. 

As he straightens and sees you, he gets this lazy smile on his face. 

You decide to speak first and cut off whatever thought process he had. “What are you doing here?” 

Yoongi pouts and rubs a thumb across your cheek. “I missed you.” 

“You were supposed to go home Yoongi.” 

“Didn’t want to,” he shrugs. 

You sigh, knowing you didn’t have the heart to kick him out when he was like this. “Fine. Will you at least take a shower before you crash? You stink.” 

“You just want me naked,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

Instead of answering him, you turn to your room to get him a change of clothes. If he were anyone else, if he hadn’t just told he loved you- this would be hilarious. You would never let Yoongi live this down. 

But it wasn’t someone else. It was Yoongi. And not only had he told you he loved you, it seems like he already forgot about it. He was so unaware of the spiral you were in it was painful. 

He was struggling with his boots when you made your way back into the living room. You swallow back the lump in your throat as you kneel in front of him. 

You nudge his hands away and make quick work of the laces. 

“Y/N.” When you look up, you’re struck with the clarity in his gaze. You’re not sure what changed in the time it took you to get him some clothes but the flirty Yoongi was gone. 

His eyes were still dropping and he was a little sideways on your couch but he seemed more like Yoongi again. 

“What?” you ask and wince when your voice cracks. 

“I meant it.” 

Your eyes close and you sit back on your heels to give yourself some distance. “Yoongi, please.” 

He doesn’t say anything more and when you finally open your eyes again, he’s running a hand over his face. “Okay,” he sighs. Then he grabs the clothes from off the floor and disappears into the bathroom. 

How did things get so complicated so quickly? 

This was exactly the kind of situation you were hoping to avoid all these years. You roughly wipe your eyes to stop any tears from falling before getting to your feet.

You hear the shower turn on as you make up the couch, tucking sheets into the cushion and bringing out extra pillows. And then you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your first instinct is to go close yourself in your room and not come out until he’s gone in the morning. 

You knew you could never do that though. You’d never been good at ignoring Yoongi. It was unclear if other people experienced this kind of magnetism towards him, but you were hopeless.

Because of the war going on in your brain, you were still sitting on the couch when Yoongi walked back down the hallway. And - in a word - oof. 

The clothes were his, some you’d stolen a long time ago but he’d put on a muscle since then so the shirt was a little tight. His damp hair hung a little longer, hanging into his eyes a little bit. 

The shower seemed to do him some good, he looked a little more alert. More himself.

You watch him warily and tuck your knees into your chest. He takes a seat opposite you on the coffee table. Then you two sit there, not looking at and not talking to each other. 

Then Yoongi heaves a heavy sigh and you dare to look at him. “Y/N…” He doesn’t seem to have more to say than that.

You turn to look at him. “Yoongi, I’m exhausted. Can we talk in the morning?” 

He nods, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” 

You shoot up from the couch, ready to get out of this tense atmosphere. “I brought out sheets and blankets. And there’s a stack of pillows there. If you need anything else, you know where everything is.” 

“Y/N.” Yoongi’s hand reaches out, maybe to stop you or grab you. You just dart a few paces away. You had no resolve left and you were pretty sure if he touched you at this point that would just crumble. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Yoongi.”

His sighs and it ruffles your hair, sends a shiver down your back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next morning, as the sun shone brightly through your curtains, you were praying for a sinkhole to open underneath your apartment building and swallow you whole. Or maybe like a stray asteroid could come in through your window. Less casualties that way. Anything to get you out of this conversation with Yoongi.

You hadn’t slept all night, trying to decode Yoongi’s words and your own feelings. You’d been squashing them down for so long, trying to make them as small and inconsequential as possible. 

It was sometime after the sky started to turn pink that you truly allowed yourself to accept how much you love Min Yoongi. How much you always have. 

For as long as you can remember, you have cherished every moment with him. Your movie nights. When you could bring your laptop to his studio and listen to him produce music while you worked. Getting late night coffees at the same cafe you first met. 

The list goes on. 

Now it was just a matter of figuring out if Yoongi really did… love you. You know that saying “drunk words are sober thoughts.” And maybe it was true in this case. But what if he just meant he loved you as a friend?

Really, it wasn’t that far fetched. You have never met a more emotionally guarded person than Yoongi. He didn’t even want to admit to being friends until after you threatened to send a video of him dressed up as his female counterpart “Yoonji” to Dispatch. 

In short, you were getting nowhere fast. Which is why you finally kicked yourself out from under your sheets to make some coffee. Coffee always helps right?

A quick peek into the living room and you can see Yoongi curled up on the couch, still out. 

You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen. You start to brew a pot of coffee and let the comforting smell wash over you. It seemed to rouse Yoongi as well. Over the back of the couch you see him stretch his arms, groaning as he does it. 

You pour two mugs of coffee and give him time to fully wake up. 

He shuffles into the kitchen, one eye cracked open and trying to smooth his hair down with his hands. “Morning,” he mumbles.

You wordlessly hand him a mug of plain black coffee. He hums gratefully and takes a large gulp. 

Not for the first time you internally coo at his early-morning grumpiness. His eyes are puffy and his hair is sticking up in multiple directions despite his efforts. You sip your own coffee and try to figure out how to start this conversation. 

Yoongi leans against the opposite of the island counter and looks at you over the rim of his mug. “So.” 

“So,” you agree. And then leap into it. “You remember everything you said last night?” 

He takes another large gulp of his coffee before setting the mug down. “I do.” 

You lean your elbows down on the counter and grip onto your mug with both hands to have something to ground you. “Okay.” 

Yoongi looks at you, eyes wary. You can’t look at him, can’t be the one that says something that ruins this friendship.

“Y/N… can we just forget it?” 

Your eyes fall closed. You wonder at the same time if it’s possible for your heart to fall out of place in your chest because it no longer feels like it’s there. “Yeah,” you force out of your vocal chords. “Let’s forget it.” 

“I just- it was wrong for me to say those things. To you. While I was so… out of it.” Yoongi sighs. “Will you look at me? Please?” 

He’s staring at you, fully awake now. His gaze is imploring, like his words are saying one thing but his eyes are trying to tell you something else. 

“Y/N, your friendship is one of the most important things in my life. You found me when I was in a shitty place and couldn’t find any real people to be around. Everyone wanted to know Agust D, they didn’t give a fuck about me. I can’t lose that, I can’t lose you-” 

You take another drink from your mug to distract you and to hopefully hide the tears building in your eyes. This was the most likely scenario, you knew that. But you had still allowed yourself to hope for the best. 

“I get it Yoongi. You love me, as a friend.” 

He makes this noise in the back of his throat and comes around the island towards you. 

On instinct you back away, trying to keep the distance. You throw your hands up when your back hits the counter behind you. “Yoongi, please don’t-” 

He immediately stops a few feet away from you. “This is exactly what I didn’t want,” he says, voice breaking a little on the last words. “I didn’t want to upset you.” 

You realize that the tears in your eyes have fallen so you wipe them away hastily. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” 

Yoongi frowns, “You’re crying so it’s not fine.” He looks at you with such concern that it hurts. Like he would do anything to fix it if he could. 

“Please don’t look at me like that,” you say weakly. 

“Like what?” 

You are exhausted, mentally and physically. So your filter is gone. And you blurt, “If we’re going to be just friends, I can live with that but that means you can’t look at me like that. Like you love me more than that.” 

Yoongi just looks at you, jaw slack. “Let me be perfectly clear, Y/N. If we’re going to be just friends I am going to be the one living with it. Because…” he sighs and closes his eyes, as if to collect himself. “Because I do love you more than that.” 

If your heart hadn’t fallen out of place earlier it certainly did in that moment. “What?” you squeak.

He takes a cautious step towards you. “Last night, I meant everything I said. I’ve never been brave enough to say it to your face, but I have been in love with you for the better part of three years. It wasn’t fair of me to say all of that to you or to show up here and have you take care of me. And I mean it, we can be friends. Because I’d rather be friends than nothing at all. But since we’re here I might as well get it all off my chest, even if it means I never mention it again. At least that way I can finally breathe again.” 

Your chest heaves with panicked breaths as you absorb everything he just said. This time there wasn’t any way to misconstrue his words. No doubt about the meaning. Yoongi had just laid himself bare in front of you. 

“Idiots,” you mutter. 

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up past his hairline. “What?” 

“We are idiots,” you say and a somewhat manic laugh slips its way past your lips. When you see the hurt cross his face, you step closer and clap a hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Yoongi.”

He pulls back a step and the action sobers you immediately. “We are both complete idiots, Yoongi. Because I’ve never been brave enough either. Brave enough to tell you that you are what kept me sane during my intern year. That getting to see you is the best part of my day. And I’ve never told you I love you because I was terrified of you not feeling the same way.” 

“Idiots,” he muses. Yoongi looks at you, eyes darting everywhere as if looking for the lie. His lips slowly curl into a smile when he doesn’t seem to find one. He closes the gap between you, cradling your face in his hands.

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s gentle. The tenderness makes your eyes slip shut, makes every time you’ve ever dreamt about this in the past pale in comparison. You could never have imagined how perfect it would feel when his hands roam the planes of your body, wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him. 

The closeness has you overwhelmed, whimpering into his mouth. You find yourself craving even more contact, pull yourself infinitesimally closer by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. 

Yoongi pushes against you, making you stumble back a few steps until you hit the counter. Without missing a beat, his hands move from your waist down to your thighs. He grips the flesh there and hoists you up onto the countertop.

You gasp at the lift, legs wrapping around his hips for anchorage. Yoongi takes advantage and licks his way into your open mouth. You let him take the lead, feeling wholly overwhelmed by the way he kisses you. Your fingers thread in his hair, tugging on the roots when the sensations become too much. 

Yoongi groans, pressing his lips harder to yours for another second before pulling away. He immediately presses another chaste kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead on yours. 

You don’t open your eyes right away, almost afraid he won’t be there when you open them. 

“Y/N,” he whispers. Your heart flops over, probably somewhere down near your appendix at this point. “We really are idiots.” 

You smile, finally looking back at him. You tighten your legs around him, your body’s way of telling him he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Yoongi’s eyes slip shut as he lets out a hiss. “Woman, you’ve gotta stop doing that.” 

“Why?” you smirk.

“Because all I’ve thought about for years is being able to love you like I want to. I want to love you in every way you deserve to be loved. But I also haven’t slept in days. I haven’t slept a full night since I was here last, for movie night. If you keep doing that I’m going to take you right here and it won’t be my A game.” He kisses you slowly, making your toes curl in. “I want to give you my A game.” 

You smile fondly at the rant but relent, dropping your legs to either side of his hips. Your fingertips trace the shadows under his eyes “I haven’t slept well either. Since that night.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers, slumping into you. 

“Don’t be,” you say as you comb your fingers through his hair. “How about a nap? Because I too want nothing less than your A game.” 

Yoongi straightens and glares at you. You put a hand on his chest and push lightly. He backs up enough for you to hop down from the counter. You take one of his hands in yours, taking a second to appreciate how easily they fit together. 

“What, you’re not going to make me sleep on the couch again?” Yoongi says as you lead him to your room.

“I’m still not fully convinced this is all real.” You turn and pull him close again. “Until I am I need you to stay close to me. So no more couch.”

Yoongi smiles softly. “I can do that.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. 

He audibly groans as he climbs into your bed beside you. You roll your eyes at him. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“You try sleeping on that couch. Whoever talked you into that couch is a nutjob.”

You smack his chest. “You convinced me to buy that couch!” 

Yoongi shrugs, grinning softly. You smack him once more for good measure. Then you give into the instinct your body has been screaming for, which is to snuggle into him. You get comfortable with your head resting on his chest and one of your legs tangled between his. Your fingers fist into the material of his shirt on their own volition. 

He pulls you closer with the arm that’s under you, not seeming to be satisfied until every gap between the two of you is gone. 

“From now on, let’s be idiots together, okay?” 

Yoongi chuckles and drops a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “Deal.”

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

���Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[koushou]

Could we get uuh,,, Todoroki x f!reader who is insecure abt their looks bc they look more "boyish" than most girls? 😳 As much as I love being an androgynous queen, I get insecure sometimes, esp when it comes to guys liking me

this is my first ask im 😳💕💕

beautiful

pairing : todoroki shoto x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none really, like the teeniest suggestive ending, just todoroki being like the best bf ugh 😩

a/n : thank you so much for requesting anon!! i tried my best, im so sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted but shoutout to all the androgynous queens you’re amazing !! <3 (also can you tell im terrible at titles pls)

shopping mall dates with your friends were always something you looked forward to, shoto knew this well. so why had you come back to the dorms empty-handed?

The familiar ringtone playing from your phone woke you up from your slumber, as bright sunlight shone through your windows where the curtains did poor job of providing you with any coverage. You opened your eyes and would’ve immediately shut them if not for the music still coming from your phone on your nightstand.

Swinging a hand blindly over, you felt the cool screen of your device and brought it close to your face, as an all too familiar contact name displayed on the top of the screen.

Grumbling slightly, you pressed the answer button and brought it up to your ear.

“Y/N!! Are you still sleeping??” You almost wanted to hang up right then and there from the cheery girl’s voice ringing into your ear. 

“Mina, it’s-” You glanced over at your alarm clock on the same nightstand, “-literally 9 in the morning, what do you want-”

“Come on! You remember we have another shopping day today, right??” 

You rubbed your eyes and rolled over in bed on your side, away from the blinding light illuminating through the glass windows.

Shopping dates with your girlfriends in Class 1-A took place almost every weekend, something you always looked forward to. Hero training was stressful, everyone was always striving to further improve and expand their quirks and skill, almost never having time for any sort of break. 

Truthfully, you had forgotten about your planned day with the girls today, since it had been a pretty tough week, with work piling up on top of one another, heck, you were barely keeping up your grades. 

“Oh...right.” You ran your fingers through your somewhat messy, medium-length hair, attempting to comb it slightly and getting rid of the small knots that had been formed in your sleep.

“Hey, don’t tell me you forgot - anyways, we’re meeting up downstairs at 10, so see you later!!” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

Quiet beeps signaling the end of your short call with Mina, you sighed and wondered how the alien girl managed to stay so hyper in the morning, not that you were surprised anymore. 

Sitting up in bed, you let out a yawn and stretched out your body, excited for the day to come. 

On some days, you just wanted to sleep in and have a day all to yourself in the comfort of your small dorm room, but these shopping sprees with the girls always took your mind off any troubles on your mind.

Throwing your blanket to the side lazily, you get up from your bed and groggily made your way to the bathroom, phone still in hand. Flicking on the light switch, you cringed at the sudden brightness.

A notification noise sounded from your phone, a smile spreading across your face as soon as you saw who the sender was - your one and only white and red haired boyfriend.

Unlocking your phone, you were met by a few text messages from your lover.

shouu <33 : good morning love, have you woken up yet?

shouu <33 : you’re going out today with the others right? i wish you could come and be with me, but i hope you have fun.💗

Your heart could not handle this level of cuteness in the morning.

Turning on the water to get ready for your morning shower, you typed out a reply to your boyfriend.

                                                             good morning shouto 🥺 i just woke upp

                      imy so much as well, i promise i’ll be with you when i get back!!💕

You stripped off your clothes and hopped into the shower, the water more on the warm side, exactly how you liked it.

After about 20 minutes, you stepped out with a towel wrapped around your torso, the cool air hitting your legs, making you shiver slightly. You made your way over to your closet in the corner of your room, picking out what clothes to wear.

It was scorching hot out, and you were feeling lazy, so a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts seemed like a good choice.

The time was about 9:40 when you had finished brushing your teeth and mindlessly slapping on some sunscreen, you didn’t want to become tan, after all.

Internally crying, you shoved your wallet with your credit card inside your small purse you usually brought when you went shopping, making a note to yourself to cut down a bit on your purchases. 

You knew that promise was going to go out the window as soon as you step foot in a store, but hey, you always felt better after coming back to the dorms with bags of clothing in your hands.

Deciding to head down to the common room earlier to grab a quick snack to eat, you received another message from your phone.

shouu <33 : i’ll be waiting for you, love.

shouu <33 : are you sure you don’t want to use my father’s credit card? i don’t think he would really care if it gets maxed out, you know.

You giggled at your boyfriend’s message even though you knew he was being 100% serious.

                                                                                   shou...bby, i cant do that-

shouu <33 : alright then, be safe and text me when you get there, okay?

                                                                                                            i will! ily <33

shouu <33 : i love you too :)

When you reached the common room, you were met by pink, black, green, and brown haired girls.

“Y/N!! Good morning!!”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N-chan, ribbit.”

“Oh hey Y/N!”

You smile at your energetic friends, Mina, Momo, Tsu and Uraraka, who were all lounging on the couches. 

“Good morning, guys.”

Mina lets out a whine, “Where is Jirou? That girl is almost always never on time-”

“What’s that, Mina?”

A voice from behind the girls spoke, causing everyone to jump and turn at the same time. 

“O-oh good morning Jirou-”

The purple haired girl stood behind the couches, and your eyes scanned over her outfit. A white, loose short sleeve hung around her shoulders, paired with some black shorts. A simple outfit, yet she made it look so much more appealing.

She charged towards Mina, who was now desperately hiding behind Uraraka. It was then that you finally took notice of the other girls’ outfits, and suddenly became all too aware of your own.

Mina, with a pink shirt tucked into her jeans, a black belt as a finishing touch. Her curves showing perfectly, all in the right places. You would expect her pink hair to be messy and puffy, but it was tamed, neatly brushed, and reminded you of soft cotton candy. 

A cropped maroon top, with black jeans, complementing Momo’s smooth, black hair which was put up in a lower pony tail than usual. Her gentle features sure to attract admirers wherever she went. The way her dark bangs framed her face, the way her smile was bright, genuine - an appearance of a true, proper lady. 

You glanced down at your own outfit, trying to smooth out wrinkles in your own shirt. No genius was required to see that you obviously stood out in your group of feminine friends, you being the only female with short hair and a different style.

It wasn’t that you hated the way you looked, but it made you think sometimes that you weren’t as attractive or liked as much, compared to your friends.

“Well then,” Uraraka clasped her hands together, interrupting your thoughts, and grinned. “Shall we get going?” 

You all cheered, getting up and ready to head to the shopping mall. 

Mina locked her arms in yours and dragged you out of the doors, grinning at you while the other girls trailed behind.

“Come on old ladies! We’re gonna max out our cards!!” She yelled at the sky once you were outside, the hot summer air hitting your skin immediately. 

“Hey, who’re you calling an old lady?!” You smacked Mina’s arm, making her stick her tongue out at you.

“Fine, whoever gets there last is an old lady!!” 

Your pink haired friend takes off toward the mall which was located about 20 minutes away from your school, with you laughing and running after her, followed by your other female friends.

The negative thoughts you had on your mind previously vanished as you all ran after one another, not giving a care in the world to the questioning looks passersby shot your ways. Spending time with your friends always somehow managed to brighten your mood, regardless of whether they knew how you were feeling or not. 

And your love for them could never be put into words.

6 girls arrived at the Misako Mall, panting, out of breath as they bought water from a vending machine.

“Oh-” You pant, fumbling with the buttons on the machine, inserting a few coins in and watching as the bottle falls to the bottom. 

“Ura-ha..ha...Uraraka, you’re an old...ha...lady!” Mina teased the gravity-quirked girl in between breaths.

“Yo-you’re so mean, ha, Mina,” Uraraka coughed, sputtering as she practically shoved the water bottle down her throat, drinking half of the bottle in a few seconds.

“Slow down - ribbit - Ochaco-chan,” Tsu patted the said girl’s back, making sure she didn’t choke.

“Well, guys, where do you want to go first?” Momo spoke up, after you guys rested a bit on the benches in the lobby. 

“I kind of wanted to check out the accessories in that shop we passed earlier,” Jirou scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, nodding towards a shop near the entrance of the mall.

You all turned to look at the store she was talking about, not surprised to see the exterior of the shop decorated in dark, emo-style accessories - exactly Jirou’s style.

“I want to go there too - ribbit,” Tsu nodded in agreement, this time shocking the group, since Tsu had always seemed to be into more cuter accessories. 

“I was actually interested in that one over there,” Momo tapped her chin thoughtfully, gesturing towards a high-class looking store on the second floor of the mall. 

“That looks nice! I really like that white dress they have in the front,” Uraraka stared dreamily at the level above you guys, and an idea popped into your head.

“Why don’t we split into pairs? That way, we can all check out the stores we want to and meet up back here when we’re all done!” Your suggestion earned approving nods from the rest, all of you agreeing to text in the groupchat you had when you were finished in your stores.  

Tsu and Jirou, Momo and Uraraka, and you and Mina walked off into different directions of the mall, chatting excitedly.

You and Mina decided to first go into a casual-styled store filled with jeans, tops, jackets, etc. 

Walking into the store, a friendly cashier at the counter greeted you guys, who you both smiled back at.

Thankful for the cool air conditioner providing a contrast to the burning weather outside, you scanned the racks for anything that caught your eye.

“Oh! Y/N look here!” You turned to where your pink friend had ran to, spotting her a few aisles down.

Making your way towards her, she holds up a light pink, off the shoulder top decorated with small flowers and a lace ribbon in her hands eagerly.

“Do you think this would look good on me? I really like the color!” She beams at you, holding the clothing item up to herself, admiring it in a tall mirror nearby. 

You study it for a second, before smiling back at her and nodding excitedly in agreement.

“It suits your skin color so well too! You should go try it on!”

“You think so??” She grins at you happily as you chuckle back in response. 

“You should pick out some clothes first, then we can go to the changing rooms together!”

“Okay, let me look around a bit more!” You walk off to the other side of the store, studying any clothes that may peak your interest. 

A striped red, orange, and white button-up shirt catches your eye, hanging on one of the racks. You take it and hold it up to your torso, satisfied with the way it looked. 

Keeping it around your arm to try on later, you decide to pick out a few more clothes to try on to avoid making multiple trips to the changing room. Just as you were about to turn around and continue your search for more clothes, you felt a figure approach behind you. 

“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you but I thought you were really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?”

A voice made you turn around, and you were met by a man who looked a bit older than you. 

He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes staring at...the top of your head?

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not expecting the sudden question. 

“Oh! Thank you, but I have a boyfriend already, I’m sorry-”

The man’s eyes finally focus on your face, before laughing at you.

Wait, what?

You furrowed your eyebrows at the still laughing man, who looked down at you like you were a mere piece of dirt below him.

“I’m not talking to you, you’re not even pretty?” He scoffed when you gaped at him. 

“I’m talking to the hottie behind you,” He grinned and stared past you to whoever was standing there.

You slowly turned around, expecting to see some random stranger behind you, but you were met by a puff of familiar pink hair.

“O-oh, Mina...” You mumbled, not wanting to make eye contact with your friend, disheartened from the man’s words.

You were never one to get bothered by anyone’s words, especially not from a stranger, but this one hit you differently.

“What did you say to my friend?! You wanna repeat that, huh?!” Mina yelled at the man, steam almost emitting out of her pink ears. 

“Woah, calm down, pinkie, I just wanted to get your number - I didn’t know she was your friend.” He chuckled, and glanced at you again.

“Just saying, you could do so much better.” It was like bullets, the man’s words, aimed straight at your heart.

Storming up to the man, Mina slapped him directly on his face, leaving both of you in shock.

“Say that again, I dare you!!” You ushered Mina away from the furious man despite her protests of wanting to beat him up.

“Hmph, who does he think he is?!” You stopped walking when you guys were a good distance from the stranger.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your emotions and not make a fool of yourself in a public space.

“It’s fine, I-I don’t really care,” Sighing, you gave Mina a small unconvincing smile, which she saw right through.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Don’t listen to him! He’s just blind,” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You chuckled softly, trying to change the subject, “I’m fine, come on, let’s go try on our clothes.” 

Mina sighed, eyeing the one top you had on your arm. “You only have one shirt? Don’t you want to try on more?” 

You scanned the racks around you guys, randomly picking a pair of black plaid pants, flashing your friend another smile. 

“It’s okay, there’s not much I like here,” You grabbed her arm and led her into the changing rooms, chuckling at her pile of clothes hanging over her arm. 

“You sure got a lot, Mina.”

“Their clothes are really nice!!” 

Mina and you went into rooms besides each other, and you could hear the girl squealing while trying on her clothing.

Instead of trying on your clothes immediately, you slumped against the white door, taking a deep breath, the man’s comments still on your mind.

You’re not even pretty.

You could do so much better.

Wrapping your arms around your torso, you looked in the mirror on the wall across you, taking in your appearance.

There were few things about you that would seem appealing to any man, and you should’ve gotten over the stares people give you wherever you go by now, but it was hard.

It really was.

Of course people would be attracted to Mina first, or anyone in your friend group, for that matter. She was outgoing, kind, bright, and feminine. 

Tears poking at the corners of your eyes, you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand before they fell. 

Why couldn’t people just accept who you were?

Why couldn’t people accept the fact that you were happy in your own body, and that you loved yourself the way you were?

The common stereotype that all females had to be feminine, had to be proper, you were tired of it.

A loud knock from the other side of the door you were leaning against sounded, and you jumped a little, before hearing your friend’s cheery voice. 

“Y/N! Are you finished? I want to show you the top!”

“Oh- One second!”

Quickly tidying up your appearance to get rid of any hints of your silent breakdown, you unlocked the door and looked over Mina.

You were right.

The light pink color of the top really did complement her skin color well, her slender shoulders were exposed, and the lacey ribbon around the collarbone area of her shirt gave it a finishing touch.

Gasping, you admired how good it looked on her, while she giggled and jumped excitedly in place.

“It looks so beautiful on you Mina!!” You gave her a small hug, giggling along. “It’s like it was made for you!”

“Thanks!! What about your clothes?” She nodded towards your top and pants still sitting in the changing room, untouched.

You coughed, “Oh- uh give me a second, I still need to try on the top,” She nodded and pushed you back into the room eagerly.

“Show me when you’re done!”

You nodded and smiled back at her before walking back into the room and locking the door behind you.

You had already lost all interest in shopping today, but reluctantly changed into the striped button-up shirt, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

It was okay, nothing really special, and you certainly wouldn’t be spared any second glances from anyone. Not that you cared, you were already in a happy and healthy relationship with Shoto.

Shoto.

A thought suddenly popped into your mind. 

What did Shoto think about your appearance? Coming from a rich family, it was only natural that he would be into proper, feminine females. 

Why was he even dating you? Does he actually mean it every time he calls you beautiful?

Maybe you should change your hairstyle. Or the way you dressed. Maybe then, Shoto would love you.

Maybe then, he would think you’re beautiful.

Running your hand through your short strands of hair, you suddenly didn’t want to be here anymore.

You wished you were in the safety of your dorm, under the blankets where no one would have to look at you.

You were probably an eyesore, walking around everyday at school, getting judgmental looks from left to right.

Shaking your head, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, straightening yourself back up.

Unlocking the door again, wanting to get this day over with, you were met by a excited Mina as she looked over at you. You noticed that she had changed back to her own shirt.

“You look great Y/N!!” She hopped excitedly over to you as she admired your top.

You shrugged, glancing down at your top. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.” 

She raised her eyebrows at your response, asking worriedly, “Do you not like it?” 

“Not really, it’s kind of plain.” Sighing, you picked at the sleeves and wrinkles of the shirt. 

“Oh,” Mina pursed her lips together, cocking her head to the side. “That’s alright, then. What about the pants?”

Truth was, you had forgotten to try on the pants while you were inside, and you didn’t want to risk purchasing something you weren’t sure would look good on you.

“Oh-uh, I didn’t like that one too much either,” You glanced back at the item still hanging in the changing room.

“Oh no,” Mina pouted. “Are you going to buy anything?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head. “Guess not.”

It wasn’t really that you didn’t want to buy anything, you just thought that at this point, it didn’t matter what you wore.

Because, you weren’t as feminine as other girls.

"Give me a second to change back, and we can go to another store.” She looked like she was about to say something, but decided to close her mouth and nodded instead.

The remaining time you spent with Mina was just her jumping around stores excitedly and you mindlessly staring at clothes you wouldn’t ever buy.

It was about 2 in the afternoon when you all decided to meet back up, ready to head back to school.

You realized that you hadn’t bought a single item in the past 4 hours spent in wandering around the mall. 

“Y/N! Did you not buy anything?” Momo asks worriedly as you and Mina approach the other two pairs in the lobby.

You shook your head at the tall girl, sighing, “Nothing really caught my eye today.”

“Oh, we can walk around a bit more together if you’d like!” Uraraka offers, holding a large bag in her own hands.

You smiled at her words, shaking your head again. “No, it’s alright! I’m sure we’re all tired, let’s head back.” 

“Gosh, this weird man came up to us earlier and had the audacity to call our little Y/N here unattractive??! And then proceeded to ask for my number??” Mina huffed, clenching her fists dramatically at the memory.

You chuckled awkwardly. “Mina, you didn’t have to slap the poor man.”

“Poor man? By the sounds of it, he hasn’t learned his lesson yet.” Jirou speaks up, cracking her knuckles, eyes darkening. “Where is he?”

You laughed. “Jirou-”

“Oh dear, that’s terrible.” Momo patted your shoulder. “You’re very beautiful, Y/N, you know that?” 

You smiled at the kind girl, letting out a deep breath. 

“I understand where he’s coming from, though...” You mumbled quietly.

“Did you say something, Y/N?” Uraraka asks from next to you.

Shaking your head quickly, you link your arms with the brown haired girl, grinning at everyone. “Let’s head back now!”

Pushing open the large glass doors, you were met once again by the humid air, the sun’s rays burning down on your exposed skin.

The girls chattered happily about their new purchases, peeking inside the others’ bags and taking a couple out to show.

Even though you walked in the middle of Uraraka and Momo, you couldn’t help but feel left out, not having any new clothing to wear.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nudged Momo, making her turn around and look at you.

“Hey Yaomomo, what’d you get?”

She smiled and opened her bag for you to peek inside, and you almost had to close your eyes from the amount of bling inside,

Bling, meaning dresses decorated in gems, with a few jewelry pieces and other accessories. Of course, there were a couple casual wear on the bottom of the bag.

“Oh, I’m not even surprised anymore,” You pretended to huff at Momo, turning the other way.

“You’re so classy and fancy, Yaomomo, are you trying to flex your class on me?” 

She laughed, slapping your back lightly. “Oh sorry, I just can’t help that I’m so rich and proper.” 

You tensed up at her words. Of course, you knew she was being sarcastic, but her use of words hit the same spot in you again as earlier. 

“Hey guys...” Mina starts, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” An ominous feeling settles in all of your stomachs. 

“Last one to the dorms is an old lady!” 

All of you groan, watching as the pink alien girl takes off once again, having no choice but to follow behind.

6 girls arrived back at the dorm building, panting once again. 

“Mina- ha, I swear to - god,” You breathe out, pants coming from all six of you.

Mina just giggles at you as you all arrive back in the common room. Your classmates are sprawled out in different places throughout the room, and their heads all perk up simultaneously at the new arrivals. 

Bakugou were surrounded by Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero, as always, trying his best to swat them away. 

Tokoyami and Aoyama were chatting in the kitchen, while Iida, Midoriya and Shoto hung around the TV, watching whatever movie was put on.

Ojiro, Koda, Shoji, and Sato were nowhere to be seen, you guessed they were up in their own rooms. 

“Oh, hey guys! Welcome back!” A certain red-head’s voice chirped from the middle of the room, flashing you all his big smile.

“Hey Kirishima!” Mina smiled back at the boy before making her way up to her own room to organize her newly bought items. 

Momo, Tsu, Jirou, and Uraraka followed after her, while you made your way over to where your boyfriend was on one of the other couches. 

“Hey, love.” Shoto smiles at you softly as he opens his arms for you to give him a hug. 

“Hey Sho,” You happily accept your place in his arms, tired from the long day you had. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you as well,” He plants a small kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something else before a realization dawns on him.

“Love, did you not buy anything?” You gulp, afraid that your boyfriend would see through your feelings and ask you what was wrong.

“Oh- uh, I just didn’t feel like anything caught my eye today!” You shrug, hoping that he would accept your answer and move on.

Of course, Shoto could be dense at times, but he is everything but stupid.

He always knew how you adored these little shopping sprees with your girls, and never once had you arrived back empty handed. On top of that, your vibe just seemed a bit...off.

“Can we go to your room and cuddle? I’m a little tired,” You look up at him, to which he responded by giving you a small kiss and chuckling.

“Of course, let’s go, love.” 

After saying goodbye to Iida and Midoriya, you both made your way to Shoto’s dorm, immediately flopping down on the bed after stepping inside.

Shoto laughed softly at your eagerness, wasting no time and following in after, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you flush against his chest.

The warmth and vanilla scent of your boyfriend was enough to calm you down and get rid of any past bad thoughts you were having earlier that day.

You felt him bury his face inside your hair, inhaling softly your shampoo from this morning. Normally, you would’ve swooned at the action, but it somehow made you feel uneasy. Insecure.

Shriveling away a little from his body, you were met by a very confused Shoto staring back at you.

“...Love?”

You bit your lip, not sure how to explain why you seemed uncomfortable.

“I-,uh, Shoto?” Your eyes made contact with his as he hummed in response. You decided it was now or never.

“Do you...think I’m pretty?” Biting your lip anxiously as you awaited his answer.

Confusion flashed through your boyfriend’s face. What kind of a question was that?

That was what he wanted to ask, until he noticed the tears forming in your eyes, and worriedly sat up, bringing you with him.

“Of course I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, darling.” 

Not convinced, you sniffle before asking again, “Really?”

He furrows his eyebrows together, lifting you up and onto his lap so you were straddling him now, both of you in a sitting position.

“Did something happen, love? Why are you asking me these questions?” He reaches up to wipe a stray tear that had slipped its way through your eyes with his thumb. 

“No reason-” You started, but your boyfriend’s piercing gaze told you he wouldn’t take that as an answer.

Taking a deep breath, you avoided his eyes as you began to speak.

“Today, when we were at the mall, a man came up to me, called me pretty, and asked for my number-”

Shoto raises his eyebrows, to which you wave away quickly.

“-I thought he was talking to me, but turns out he was speaking to Mina, who had been standing behind me. He then called me-” You cleared your throat, a bit anxious for your boyfriend’s reaction. 

“He said that I wasn’t pretty, and that Mina could do so much better than being friends with someone like me...” Your voice trails off as you felt Shoto’s grip on your waist tighten.

“He...what?” You could’ve sworn you saw flames flicker behind Shoto’s eyes, his left and right hands heating and cooling on your sides without thinking, to which you yelped a little, surprised by the temperature change.

His eyes softened, looking down at your waist and rubbing it softly. “Oh- I’m sorry, love, I did not mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, smiling at him. “You didn’t hurt me at all, Shoto.”

He exhales deeply, looking into your eyes. “Baby, you’re the most beautiful, kind, amazing girl I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t ever listen to what anyone else says, you’re absolutely perfect the way you are.”

Shoto plants a deep kiss on your lips, tears threatening to spill over at his touching words.

When you pull away, there’s still a lingering thought in the back of your mind. 

“Don’t you ever wish - that you had a more...you know...” You rubbed your eyes, sniffling as the first few tears made their ways down your cheeks.

Shoto tilts his head to the side as he pulls you closer to his body, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. 

“A what, love?”

“You know, a more...feminine...girlfriend?”

You nervously glance at him, waiting for his response. 

There’s silence for a moment, and your heart drops. 

“Who ever said that girls have to be feminine?” 

You directly look into his eyes for the first time that evening, confusion plastered on your face.

Shoto has a soft and loving, but firm expression as he speaks. 

“I don’t care if you dress, or appear differently than other girls. There is no “correct” way to look if you are a certain gender. You’re absolutely beautiful no matter what you do, or wear.” He leans forward to peck your lips once again.

“But...when I look at someone like Yaomomo, she’s just - so much more attractive and proper than someone like me...”

Shoto sighs, tilting your chin down to look at him.

“Proper? What’s not proper about you, Y/N? Your hair? Your clothing choices? Baby, you could wear a trash bag, have long hair - or even shave your head bald, I’d still fall in love with you all over again.” 

You giggle a little, making him chuckle, seeing that he successfully cheered you up a bit.

“I mean it, Y/N. I love you, and I’ll continue loving you, forever. Please don’t ever feel like you have to compare yourself to other girls, because you’ll always be the prettiest girl in my heart.”

Your heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting as you leant forward, kissing your boyfriend deeply. It was like all your emotions were expressed through that kiss. It was almost as if Shoto’s loving words washed away every single insecurity that has ever passed your mind in your whole life.

“Thank you so much, Shoto. I love you, so, so much.” You both grin as you placed your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other. 

“I want you to say it, love. Tell me you love yourself, and that you’re beautiful.” 

Your face heated up from the request, placing your hands on Shoto’s shoulders and trying to push him away, only to have your wrists caught by his strong hands as he leaned closer. 

“Come on, Y/N, I’m waiting,” he smirks at your flustered expression. 

You pouted a bit, before taking a deep breath, embarrassed from Shoto’s intense stare.

“I-uh- I love myself the way I am, and...I’m beautiful.” You squealed and cover your face with your hands after finishing your sentence, not used to those words coming out of your mouth.

A laugh escapes Shoto as he pries your hands away from your face, placing a kiss on your nose. 

“That’s right, love. What do you say we go shopping tomorrow, just me and you?” 

Your eyes brightened at the idea, and Shoto could feel butterflies flooding his stomach. 

“Yes!! I’d love that, Shoto,” You threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, burying your face into his hair.

He chuckles in response, leaning back and studying your face for a moment, making you confused.

Then, he takes your arms and pushes you back until your back is pressed against the bed, pinning them above you. His body hovers over yours, as his knee sneakily moves up to place itself between your thighs.

“But right now, let me show you just how beautiful you are, darling.”

[ku-ro-kai]

Lethal lust

You are taken away to be the maid of a demon although you didn't know what you were getting yourself into

What can I say, u have three holes for a reason

TW; manipulation fluff, angst,blood,monster kink,blowjob,breeding kink,anal,jealousy, non-con,f

You don't remember how you ended up being the apprentice of a fire demon, he picked you from the streets one cold night saying "you'll do good, have you done any work in your life?"

You replied back "no", you couldn't see his face but he was big, least standing at 7'1,he huffed out a sigh "you will work for me,I'm only teaching you once, you fail, you die, you complain, you die got that?" you nodded your head "good, now what's your name mortal"

"(Your Name)" he murmured something under his breath before sending you into a deep sleep.

You aware of the chatter going on around you, sounded like three of them, you couldn't tell who it was, at the end it all sounds the same.

"She's beauty dabi, you couldn't have stolen her off the streets"

"Long as she abide by my rules, she should be easy to work with"

"What's with the broad, you usually kill them"

"She is not to be eaten"

"A human really? What if she gets the wrong idea and kill you"

"No need to worry I have that under control"

After the you went back into your deep sleep

Dabi had awoken you to give you a sleeveless kimono with a flashy obi,vibrant colors leaving small diamond shapes to your waist, it was the emblem he wore on his chest.

You finally seen his face,staples pulling his face together and the skin on his arms, his kimono was open revealing staples holding him in the middle of his abdomen, was he waiting this whole time just for you to wake?

But what you gain so far, the demon named dabi lives in a large Minka,floors covered in Tatami wood and doors that slide when you open them, you've also learned he works with two other demons,keigo takami the Hawk demon, he's lures his victims in by his charming looks -he only prefers women since they have more "fat" stored.

Then there's shigaraki tomura, a decay demon, they don't have a preference when it comes to eating, he likes to watch his "food" suffer in pain from his claws piercing in their lower abdomen, what a painful way to go.

Dabi has given you many warnings about those two;specifically not to piss them off. On the other hand you doubt you could do that, they rarely come to the house , dabi doesn't ask for your help that much furthermore he's been frequently inviting women over, you can't tell the difference if it's moans or screams coming from his room but your sure those women come out with quivering legs.

Peaceful day-you guarantee nothing can ruin it,no concerning moans, no blood soiling the paper walls, no pestering demons,you let the sun dance on your face, the koi fish were swimming without a thought on their minds. You took a sip of your tea watching the trees blow with the wind. Dabi left a note with terrible written kanji,he went out to get more staples, he will be back around midnight you assumed.

"There you are, you look more pretty when your awake" you heard a low soothing voice behind you,didn't even notice the flapping of his wings?

"Oh master Hawks! master dabi didn't tell me you were coming home" you got up from your spot and bowed

"Just refer to me as keigo, never caught your name"

" L/N Y/N" you looked down at the floor, playing with the wrapping on your kimono. He was eye catching, no wonder women were risking their lives just to be in his presence,his dirty blonde locks dripping wet,his golden orbs were gleaming, wings colored a maroon red,his kimono colored in fabrics of honey gold, it was almost see through,the black strikes in the corner of his eyes,hair soaked with water droplets, he must've just came from a bath.

"What a timid little thing you are" he clicked his tongue, his eyes were staring at you like you were prey, you could show a little more skin additionally some makeup should be suggested, dabi was never hard on women, probably to avoid ruining your heart, have you come to him every night in more of him and your needs. But unfortunately dabi was put on a pause, keigo saw this as a perfect opportunity to take you apart, get under your skin, satisfy your every need, you would be great in his harem.

"Master Hawks? Are you alright"

"Yes of course -can you warm some tea up" he watched you bow again, heading into the dining area, a smirk rising at his lips

After giving Hawks his tea, the sun was coming down from it's long day of shining, you heard something crash with a few glasses shattering, "Y/N get over here quickly!" it was the voice of dabi, you ran to the first floor.

Jesus.

He was covered in soot and ashes,smelt like a dead corpse, blood soaking his forehead,Hawks laughed on the side of the door with his arm crossed

"Your not a sun demon remember that dabi!"

"Shut the hell up you chicken basterd" he turned in your direction "y/n prepare a bath for me"

__________

__________

The view was nice but it felt like a close one you'll share with your loved one, dabi was not a close one at all, he was leaning back with a small towelette on his face, well at least all of that blood he was drenched in is off.

You left a bottle of sake by him and he said you can leave for now.

You rested your back on the paper walls of the room dabi was in, your so tired from cleaning the remaining ashes on his hair, a bit of white was starting to appear but you ignored it

You felt a small shoulder tap,"yes master dabi?" turning around in shock, you found yourself facing keigo, his lips were so close to your forehead, of course he was giant too,you were never this close up to him,you could feel his soft breaths fanning against your skin. "You look really tense, has he been stressing you out lately?" he sounded so caring, his talons rubbed gentle hooks on your cheek, he looked at your hands, your palms were covered in scratches from the staples you had to pick out from dabi skin.

"You poor thing, let me heal you up" a feather lifted you up by the thick sashes of your kimono, while he took another hall and few sharp turns "is this new to the house?"

"Of course not, just closed off to you unfortunately dabi forgot to tell you about it, at some point he's gotta share his little cute apprentice with us"

Don't forget y/n he's a complete flirt but the way he's going out of his way to help you is so unlike of demons.

He stopped at door, above it was written in kanji.

Takami.

He opened the door walking over piles of gold and coins,the color of honey gold suited him, the room was covered in jewelry, beautiful silk covered pillows alongside gems and crystals.

"You like to collect a lot master keigo"

"Not exactly these are gifts from the humans I've spared or the treasure for my women" his feather dropped you on his bed, with a swift hand gesture, the feathers moved around the room picking up all the treasure and trinkets.

Keigo took your hand in his grasps, with a few pokes in your palm, the cuts disappeared.

"Good as new"

"Thank you-but I promise there was no need to use magic on me"

There was just words of mumbles to him, keigo was more interested in your chest, the curves in your waist, your birth giving hips.

"You put up with so much from dabi, the talent you show when keeping the house spotless, you deserve a break for all your hard work " he gave you a charming smile

"It just seems like you have a weak spot for me now" you were surely flattered but now keigo was coming off as flirt like you expected with the tone he used, you just pray dabi doesn't come in.

"Aw that's too bad,I'm just speaking my mind " he took your chin in his hands,his talons were so sharp, your almost surprised that he hasn't cut you"your so pretty, you shouldn't be doing treated like this at all " he pecked small kisses at your jaw,going further down on your chest "dabi treating you like a bird locked in a cage" his other hand reached over to rip the obi off your kimono"he has the right idea,I wouldn't share you either"

"Keigo this is a forbidden taboo-"

He placed a kiss on your lips, you could feel his fangs against your tongue,his feathers removed the last of piece of your clothing "what humans and demons having intimacy? You don't really think there isn't such things like half demons" he chuckled at your worried face

"What about master dabi?"

"Who gives a rat's ass about him, he's a pain in the neck and I guarantee he's probably drunk on his second black out"

You couldn't contain the laugh you let out, you covered your mouth in hopes of it not being so loud

Keigo saw the right opportunity to go in for it,he turned you on your stomach, throwing your torn apart kimono on the floor, showing your undergarments, there a feather played with your clothed pearl.

"I prefer your fertile cunt but your not ready for breeding yet.." he placed kisses on your lower back, your small whines were driving him up the wall, his talons gripped down your waist.

"breeding?" what does he mean by that?Hawks ripped your undergarments off in one swift move, licking a long stripe on your bare pussy. Keigo tongue wriggled his against your other hole while his thumb moved in soothing motions on your clit, "prep for you when you are ready for my harem" in the corner of your eye, you saw his kimono fall to the floor,catching a glimpse of his size, you understand why prep was needed,he was big, you arched your back as you felt him nudge against your ass

You let out a painful whine,convulsing down on him out of the uncomfortable intrusion, "I know baby" he cooed while gripping down your marked up waist "Anal can be difficult but you'll get used to it, you don't have choice since I'll be here just for my prize possession after all" with that you felt his groin pull away from your ass and slam back.

He's so rough with his strokes, it was challenging containing your moans, keigo was biting down on your shoulder, his groans were so passionate yet rough, the pain was fading, the pleasure was slowly building up.

Keigo begin snarling, stuffing you with two fingers, you were so close but so far, his fangs pierced your skin leaving you with blood running down your chest and back, he covered your mouth with his other hand to muffle your scream, the pleasure mixing with the pain left you in awe. Your climax hit you hard, clenching down around his length,keigo came right after you,biting more on your weakened shoulder,your visions was starting to become blurry.

Keigo finally stopped took his fangs out of your shoulders, licking some of the blood off your lethargic body, "you did well y/n,such a shame we can't go for round two" he smiled but it hid a wild aura behind it "but I won't lie, your blood tastes magnificent, your definitely the right one for me" afterwards you blacked out.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife, tummy full with my seed, stealing you from dabi has been lingering on my mind since you stepped foot in here" he wrapped your shoulder up with badges before he kissed on your bosom"these are mine" he stopped, looking at his door with a shadow hiding behind it.

"Your more of a creep than I thought" keigo covered your naked body with his feathers, "don't you think you have enough human wives?" his voice was dry,scratcy like he had a cold, he the sliding door opened to shigaraki.

"You look a little jealous, not hard to tell from your hard on" keigo pulled a feather forming a sword, pointing it at the blue haired man"how long were you watching.."

"Since you claimed her with that bite mark" he walked closer "I'm not surprised your fucking food, why not eat her" he chuckled

"I'm not a sick fuck like you" he looked at your sleeping body then looked back at shigaraki "now get the hell out... And don't jerk off to my woman".

A sharp pain awoken you, you looked over to see keigo, his lips were a soft red from your blood, it was really dark or his wings are covering you in a bundle. You couldn't let dabi find you like this though you couldn't really move your legs much, you hoped for the best and went back to sleep.

There was familiar feeling on your skin, it was light and dense, you turned to find your staring at keigo's crimson feather.

"Ah your finally up, you were such a good girl last night that I went out to the market and brought you new kimono, it has sleeves and the collar can hide my markings" the kimono he held out was a pretty marigold color although the bottom was short,”I went a little rough on you so you might not be able stand up straight “ can you even called that a little? You have his bite mark still lingering on your shoulder with multiple marks on your waist and hip,little my ass

Keigo helped you out of bed just to try your new kimono on,he even went as far to do your hair and makeup,”keigo this is too much,how am I supposed to repay you for this,I love it but I can’t afford this,I’m just an apprentice “

“Who said anything about repaying “ he wrapped his arms around your waist taking in your scent “your more than some apprentice,remember your my prize possession, mine and only mines” you were catching butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey I’m a pretty good hairstylist” admiring your beauty in the mirror,”you wish!” He started getting red “I tried okay!” Putting on a whimsical smile, “don’t go near shigaraki “ expression changing with the voice he was putting off,his eyes were almost hawk-like, his smile disappeared,he was holding you tighter like he was gonna lose you”what’s so bad about him?”

He raised an eyebrow “he only see’s you as food “ he lets go of you to look at his wing,pulling out a dainty feather and latching it around some gold string”touch it if your in need of my help” with a few clicks here and there it was on your neck.

_________

_________

Keigo was in a hurry to go, seemed like he had to go to his harem.

It was pouring down bad, you lit some candles up to avoid walking in the dark doing laundry,completely forgetting that the demons you lived with have special eyesight to let them see in the dark,it freaked you out when dabi's blue eyes was glaring at you in the dark"Move over-I have a headache" dabi laid out on your lap, groaning in irritation. "You really need to stop drinking every night" you took some clothes in your hand to fold.

"Don't start nagging about my drinking ,anyways what's with the makeup?"

You didn't wanna tell him keigo did it,along with him fucking you last night so just tell a lie!

"It was just sitting in my room, didn't wanna let go to waste"

He hummed in response

".. How long do you think it's gonna rain?"

"Don't know- don't care.. Mmh wake me up for dinner" he pat your thigh to let you know he's dozing off

You finished folding clothes so you went to grab a blanket to throw over dabi, you knew he wouldn't need it but just for safe keeping. Walking around in search of the kitchen was frustrating, you open a door that looked sealed away, you could hear faint breathing somewhere, you couldn't tell where it was coming from because the room was pitch black

"Wrong room dummy" shigaraki peeked out from the dark "um sorry- it's just so dark I didn't know"

Every step he had taken made you take another step back, his skin was ashen color, blue hair swaying each time, standing at the same height as dabi,you could see a few scars on his lips, his damp loose pants showing his v-line,beads of sweat rolling down his abs, this was the Shigaraki.

"I'll just leave now."

"You interrupted my training, your in no position to leave" he yanked you by the obi, watching it turn to dust in a instant, you reached to cover your body "I suggest you stop that or your little pretty face is next"

He slammed you into the wall knocking the air out of your lungs," I hate when people play with their food" he moved his hair out of the way, his eyes staring at you through your soul "that fucking bird loves taking humans and turning them into brides, I hate it so much it sickens me to my stomach" grabbing a handful of your hair, "then you play stupid with dabi pretending your the perfect apprentice, giving him attention like the little whore you are" he pulled you up against the wall "your supposed to be mines"

Putting up a fight wasn't even worth it,his claws are deadly and dangerous, if you even make the slightest wrong move your done for, you wished keigo was here. You felt a harsh thrash against your ass "look at me",now your legs were on his broad shoulders,you looked at him and his face just splayed confusion in it

“You never done this before have you..”

“ I have!” There was taint pink flushing his face, he was definitely a virgin

“You haven’t and that’s okay“ you opened your legs a bit more to get him in the right position "after all the eavesdropping you did, I would've thought you learned a thing or two"

"Shut up” he moved closer to your mound,out of anticipation his serpent like tongue swiveled around your folds,watching your slick swell on his tongue,finally he thrusted into you without warning,your mewls and whines had been muffled by shigaraki animalistic groans. His tongue was hitting spots that you didn't even know existed,your climax was rising closer.

His tongue came back to his mouth dwelling on your juices “why.. you stop” your pants started

“I just needed a taste..” that’s it?! He did all that just to get a taste!?

You picked up your shredded up clothes,limping back to your room praying keigo hasn’t made it back aswell as dabi still being asleep, luckily shigaraki didn't kill you but he did look like he was upset about something

_________

“Keigo keep it down they’ll hear us”you nuzzled in his lap while picking at his feathers,keigo was too excited about the gifts he brought for you although he’s been out too long and wanted a bath so he suggested you accompany him,”there’s gonna be blood moon tomorrow,I got you the perfect outfit just for it!” he started placing kisses on your back "sorry if I've been gone all day, the girls were feeling down today". You've wondered how many wives keigo has and why he wanted so many, though it wasn't your concern, you didn't wanna upset him if he brought up great news also you didn't confront him about shigaraki.

"Where did these bruises come from?"

Oh he's talking about the one from you being slammed into a wall.

"I fell doing laundry, it's just a small one no need to worry"

"You won't be doing laundry until then, don't even think about cooking, your getting rest for now"

The day was ending, keigo fixed dinner instead of you since you needed rest, it was rare a occurrence when demons ate human food,he brought you food, put you in beautiful silken nightgown. Shigaraki ignored you ever since he pushed you out of his room, dabi was clueless as always.

You went to go get a drink to shut down for the night, gaining more details about them, keigo went to bed early since he thrived in the sun more than the moon, as for shigaraki? This was his time to go find lost humans he could feast upon and for dabi this was usually his moment to get drunk. Too boot seeing him in sober manner and frustrated mood was not what you were expecting.

"The hell are you still doing up"

You looked away from the bulge showing from his kimono, he was sexually frustrated and you weren't doing anything but making it worse on him"I just wanted a drink before bed"

"I'll give you a drink" he grab harshly on your risk, taking you to his room, you fumbled all through the hall.

"Don't you speak this to anyone, especially when you've been whoring around their backs, now we wouldn't want that right y/n?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?" his voice had anger in it

"Yes master dabi" just because he was a demon doesn't mean your gonna let him treat you like this so you add the same tone in your voice

He scuffed rolling his eyes, why did you have to come in on his bad side, he layed down on his bed”on your knees” you got down on the floor waiting,he pulled closer to his groin,he was rutting against your face,was he really that packed up?

Soon as you took his cock out,there was a low growl coming from him,he was painfully hard and already leaking precum ,you gripped the base ,starting with the tip first,working your way down was the easy part but dabi didn’t approve so he pushed you down further until you reached his cervix.this rough assault on your throat had you choking , in shock there was a warm liquid inside your mouth.

His tail wrapped around your waist pulling you to him,he sat up sweating with his smug smirk “open” you opened your mouth as he ordered, his seed pooling on your tongue “perfect”

Thank you for reading❤️ follow me for more!

[mayraki]

“You deserve love” (10)

jj x reader

not my gif! credits to the owner.

summary: after an unexpected event on a rainy night, two friends find out they have feelings for each other.

note; this is it! the last part! this had been a beautiful journey and I enjoyed every single second of it. I loved every comment, like and reblog you guys gave me, it means the world to me when you tell how much you love what I write. I didn’t expect this series to get this much hype, when I post the first chapter I wasn’t even planning on making it a series. so, thank you so much! And I’ll see you in another fic❤️

MASTERLIST

You stood there what It felt like hours, but only a couple of seconds passed. You felt the tears going down and you were trying to process everything.

“Fuck.” You heard JJ say and you turned to him. He was looking down and then he locked eyes with you. “I didn’t meant anything I said. I thought if I treated you like that and tell you I didn’t care, I would easier for you to make a decision.”

“JJ, that would only make me feel terrible.” You said breathing out.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You said almost in a whisper. “I’m just still trying to process everything that we said.” JJ let out a little laugh and nodded.

“What do we do now?” He asked and you stood there thinking.

You and JJ were just teenagers, you couldn’t know what to do next. You just confessed your love for each other, but what does it mean? Do you go on a date? Do you two already become... a couple? And the thought of that, just terrified you. You two went trough a lot, but at the end of the day, you were just... two teenagers in love.

“I have no idea.” You finally said and looked down.

You both knew what you wanted, you just didn’t know if it was the right thing. You didn’t want to get hurt, start something and not know how to continue it. But that’s the interesting thing about life.

“Did you talk with your dad about... leaving?” He asked and you shook your head. “Oh, Alright.” He slowly nodded and you could feel the tension on the air. The thoughts were going on and on on your mind, you wanted to do it so bad, but couldn’t. The fear was eating you.

“I guess, I’m going then. Home. I’m going home.” JJ stood there and just nodded. You took a long breath and then turned around.

“Just let me know when you get there, be careful.” He said behind you and you gave him a little smile.

“I will.” You said softly while walking out the door.

You started slowly walking towards your house with millions of thoughts in your head. What just happened? What does all of this mean? Do we just move on? What does JJ want? Questions and questions without answers.

“Wait, Y/n!” JJ yelled behind you and you turned to him. He was walking fast towards you. You couldn’t see his face because it was dark but you noticed he was determined. “Fuck it.” He said when he was closer to you and then grabbed your cheeks with his hands, pulling gently your face closer to his and then uniting his lips with yours.

His lips were warm and the feeling of having them against yours gave you tiny butterflies on your stomach. You grabbed the side of his shirt and pulled his body closer to yours. Immediately felt warmth inside of you and your were going out of breath.

JJ broke the kiss and then let his forehead touch yours. You had your eyes closed because you wanted to remember this feeling, so you took your time to keep it inside you.

“Y/n.” He said almost in a whisper. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, JJ. Let’s just... enjoy the now.”

~

You opened your eyes once a fresh wind came into your face. The light was coming through JJ’s room window and you felt a body next to you. You turned to see JJ sleeping. He had his mouth slightly opened and you let out a little smile. He looked like a baby.

You moved closer to him and then closed your eyes remember what happend the night before. All those words you two said and that feeling. You remembered the kiss and the way he made you feel. Not even all those kisses with Rafe made you feel that way. You felt your stomach turned when you repeated the memory in your head and a little smile appeared in your face.

You turned to see JJ again and this time he was looking at you. He gave you a little smile and you did the same thing.

“Good morning.” He said with a morning voice and that made you melt on the bed.

“Good morning.” You locked at the clock in your phone and you sat down on the bed. “My dad’s gonna kill me!” You said getting up and getting your shoes on.

“Why?” JJ sat down on the bed while watching move around the room.

“The store opened ten minutes ago. He doesn’t like when I get there late!”

“It’s only ten minutes, what’s the big deal?”

“It’s a big deal, for my dad. And let me break it to you, you have to work today too!”

He opened his eyes in panic “Oh fuck!”

“Yeah, exactly!”

After getting into JJ’s bike, he took you to your father’s store.

“I’m sorry!” You said when you got inside the store. Your father was reading some paper he had on his desk and looked up to you. “I’m really really sorry.”

“You know I don’t like when you get here late.” He said and then looked at JJ, who was next to you. “Were have you two been?”

“At John B’s, I fell asleep. You know, after working so hard on the store.” You said trying to get your father to stop staring so hard at JJ.

“Alright, get to work then.” He said still not so convinced, but went back to his paper anyway.

After what it felt like a long day, you said goodbye to JJ and told him that you needed to talk about your father. He nodded and gave you a little kiss on the cheek. Your stomach turned and you sighed when he walked away, because you loved he way he made you feel.

“I think we need to talk, dad.” You said when you walked inside your house with your father next to you.

“Yeah, we do.” He nodded and headed to the living room and sitting down on the couch.

You followed him and you sighed. How do you even start?

“First of all, I want you to know that I’m willing to say no to this offer.” Your dad said quickly.

“What? No, dad. You can’t say no to something like this, it’s your dream to have the store on the city.”

“Yes, but if it makes you unhappy I can’t do it.” He said and you hugged him.

“I can’t be the reason why you gave up in your dreams.” You shook your head and your father gently grabbed your hand.

“You are. You’re my whole life and my first priority. I would give up everything to make you happy.” You gave him a little smile.

“If we go, what are you going to do with the store here?”

“I think I’m going to sell it, but it’s a possibility to still have it. And have two stores. But that deepends on how much money we need.”

And that’s when it hit you.

“Dad... what if I stay here.. and you go?” He was about to say something but you stopped him. “Hear me out. I can finish school here. You open the store in the city, get settle down. And if things are different then, maybe I’ll go with you, who knows? Maybe you can hire someone to work on the store full time, and I’ll work too. It’s not like I don’t already do it when you have to go for work. You know I can take care of myself. When I told Kie, she told me that I could stay with her. Maybe I could speak to her and see if the offer is still standing... What do you think?”

Your father stayed in silent thinking about what you just said, and your heart started to beat faster.

“I can’t let you stay here alone. Leave you, I’ll miss you too much.”

“And I’ll miss you too, but think about it. This way, we both stay happy. And... it’s not like we’re not going to see each other anymore. We can face time!”

“What’s that?”

“Dad! Video calls, on the computer?”

“Ah, right. That.” You let out a little laugh. “I’m going to think about it.”

You nodded and gave him another hug and your heart started to beat normally again.

~

“So, there’s a possibility that you’re not leaving?” Pope asked while the group was hanging out in The Wreck.

“Yep, I think so.” You said nodding.

“Well, that’s good news! Oh my god, if you stay, we’re going to be roommates!” Kie said excited. “Every night it’s going to be like a sleep over!”

“Can I go?” JJ said jokingly and Kie rolled her eyes. You smiled at him and he winked at you.

While the other Pogues were talking about some party they wanted to have, you felt a hand on your thigh. You tried to hide a smile by biting your lower lip. You turned to JJ but he wasn’t looking at you, he was listening to John B talk. But you knew he was paying attention to you and your reaction.

His hand started to go up and down. You looked down at the table to let out that big smile was screaming to come out. And the butterflies were flying around like crazy inside your stomach.

His hand never moved from your thigh the rest of the dinner. You didn’t want to leave, but your father was clear when he told he wanted you early that night at home.

“Ok, guys, I have to go. Dad orders.” You said with a little smile while getting up.

“Better not making him angry, specially now.” Sarah said and you nodded.

You walked out the restaurant and JJ followed you, making some lame excuse.

“Guys, I think we know how we can help.” Kie said and the other ones turned to her. That’s the last thing JJ heard when he walked out the restaurant after you.

“Hey, princess.” JJ said behind you and you felt his arm go around your shoulders.

“We haven’t done a walk at night in a long time.” You said and JJ nodded. “I kinda missed it.”

“Well, don’t stress my princess, the prince is here to save you.” He said jokingly and you let out a little laugh.

“Since when do you call yourself prince?”

“Since I got my princess.” As soon as he said it you both started to make disgust noises.

“No! Go back to the old JJ, please!” JJ let out a little laugh.

“I think I need to smoke some!” He said and you rolled your eyes trying to hide a smile.

“You never stop smoking, do you blondie?”

“You know what?” He said taking the joint to his mouth. “I’ll miss this blondie nickname.”

“Oh, if I leave, I’ll call you everyday just to say blondie, and then hang up. Everyday.”

“I wouldn’t mind, if that means you’ll remember me.”

You stopped and locked eyes with him. You grabbed the side of his shirt and then pulled him closer to you. The air that was coming out of your mouth was mixing with his. He looked down at your lips and then grabbed your waist to pull you even closer to his body.

“I’ll never forget you, JJ.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He let out a smile and then united his lips with yours, feeling his warmth again.

~

After a long day at the store, you headed back to your house with your father. You didn’t want to ask him about if he made the decision because you knew it wasn’t something easy to make and you wanted him to take his time.

When you two finished dinner, you heard a knock on the door and you turned to your dad confused.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You asked him but he shook his head.

You walked towards the door and when you opened it, the Pogues were standing in front of you and they all gave you big smiles.

“Were we supposed to hang out and I forgot? What’s going on?” You said confused.

“No, we’re here to talk with your dad.” Pope said and everyone nodded.

“Huh?”

“Can we come in?” Kie asked and you nodded moving to the side so the Pogues could come into your house.

“What the fuck guys?” You asked almost in a whisper but they weren’t paying attention to you. They all turned to your father when he walked into the living room.

“Hey guys, are you all hanging out here tonight?” Your father asked.

“No, we’re actually here to talk to you, Sr.” Pope said.

“Me?” Your father turned to you and you just shrugged your shoulder, telling him that you didn’t know what was happening either. He sat down on the couch when they all stood in a line in front of him.

“First of all, we want to say that we respect you Sr, and your decision. We know that you’ll decided whatever it’s best for your daughter, but we do want to say a few things first.” Pope said.

“What the-” You said almost in a whisper and then sat down on the couch next to you father.

“My parents told me that they are more than happy to welcome Y/n. They are going to treat her like a daughter of their own. And I’m pretty sure they are most excited about the fact that are going to have another kid to torment about keeping the grades up.” Kie said “Wich leads us to school and work.”

“If it’s necessary, the Pogues and I will help Y/n, with the store.” John B. “With whatever she needs. Free.”

“And we’ll make sure she stays out of trouble. Me, specially.” Pope said everyone nodded knowing that he was the most responsible one.

“And, also, we’ll always make sure she has the connection to talk to you every day.” JJ said. “Whatever it takes.”

“But without getting in trouble.” Pope added quickly.

“Yeah, exactly.” JJ said and you let out a little smile.

“And we’ll also like to mention a few good things if she stays here” John B said “She’s going to stay in the place she feels safe. Finish school and not go through the dramatic experience of changing schools and meeting new people. Still have good times with friends she knows since she was a little baby. And, last of all but most importantly, she’s going to be extremely happy.”

They all locked eyes with your father and he just had a little smile on his face. He sighed and then looked down. You heart started to beat faster at whatever your father was going to say.

You were so impressed at your friends and were so grateful that they did that. You couldn’t believe it. But you were too focus on waiting for your father to talk. The room was filled with silence until JJ took a step forward.

“And I’ll like to add something else.” He said and you noticed all the Pogues getting confused. He was going out of the script. “Maybe this is too soon to say this to you, and probably to everyone else. But, I love your daughter.” You opened your eyes in surprised and so did everyone else. But the expression in your father’s face didn’t change. He just started to rub his hands together while listening to every word JJ was saying. “I do. And I’ve never felt something like this. Your daughter makes me feel... safe. Loved. She’s the one who taught me that... I deserve love. That people can be kind and be there for you no matter what. And I want to do the same for her, I’ll protect her. I would never let anything bad happen to her. I promise that, with my life.”

You stood there not knowing what to say or do, the fact that JJ just confessed his love for you in front your dad and the Pogues frozed you.

Your father got up and you did the same. He sighed once again and then locked eyes with you.

“You have some good friends, sweetheart.” He said with a little smile.

“I know.” You returned the smile.

“Do you really want to stay here?”

It took you second to respond but then you nodded “Yeah” you said softly and your father looked down.

“You’re growing up too quickly.” He said with a smile. “Alright.”

“Alright?” You asked and your father looked up to you.

“You can stay.” He said and in that second you had the Pogues hugging you tightly. “But we have to make some rules! Specially with you JJ!” He said pointing at JJ and he quickly nodded.

“Yes, Sr.” He said and then turned back to you. He grabbed your waist and then pulled your closer into a hug. “You’re staying!”

“I’m staying!” You locked eyes with him and he gently grabbed your cheek.

“Ok but we need to talk about this!” Pope said pointing at you two and you let out a little laugh.

“Kind of a long story, buddy.” You said and JJ nodded giving you a smile.

~

“I can’t believe that I’m actually staying with you” you said once you arrived at John B’s house after an entire day on the boat.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be roommates! Sarah, you have to come every night. So it’s like we live together.” Kie said and you let out a little smile.

“I’m one of the girls by now, I’m invited right?” JJ said letting his arm going around your shoulders.

“No JJ!” Kie, Sarah and you said at the same time.

“C’mon man!” You let out a little laugh and let your head rest in his shoulder.

“We really have to appreciate and enjoy the now, because the next time we think about it, we’re all old and working and we won’t have time to see each other. And we’re going to remember this moments and we’re going to regret not living them.” Pope said quickly and then took a breath.

“Did you just had a mental breakdown?” You asked looking at his expression.

“I think I did.” He said and everyone bursted into laughter.

“Speaking about enjoying the moment.” JJ took your hand and walked you to the door. “We’ll be back.” And then seconds later, he was taking you to the beach.

“JJ, what are you doing?” You asked but he was too focus on god knows what. He was inside his head and stopped when you were close to the water. “JJ, what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to spend time with you, alone.” He let his arm go around your shoulders and then started to walk next to the water. “You know, Pope is right.”

“Wow, I’ve never thought I was going to listen to you say that.” You said and JJ let out a little smile.

“Me neither, but, he is. This time. I don’t want to look back and regret things that I’ve done or... things that I haven’t done.”

You looked up to him but he was looking down at the sand. “What are the things that you regret not doing?”

He didn’t respond immediately. He took a second and then locked eyes with you. “Kissing you, that night. All of those nights, we had a lot of opportunities now that I think about it.”

You let out a little laugh and nodded. “Yes, we did. But, I like our first kiss. It was different, like our lives... Oh, shit!” You palmed yourself in the forehead.

“What happend?” JJ asked concerned.

“It’s nothing. It’s just, I talked to this guy named Jack a couple of parties ago. I liked him, but I guess I have to say that I can’t go out with him anymore.”

“Oooh, you liked this guy Jack, huh?” He asked with a smirk on his face and you nodded.

“Kinda of. He sounded like he had a little bit of a big ego.” You shrugged yours shoulders.

“How dare you?” JJ said pretending to be offended. “Let me tell you that this Jack is a very smart guy.”

“Is he? More smart than you?”

“No! Now one is more smarter than me, expect maybe Pope.”

“Pope is smarter than all of us.” You said letting out a little laugh.

JJ suddenly stopped and then walked to be in front of you. He grabbed your cheek and you felt the worm of it in your face. You two were enjoying he gaze of each other and the wind blowing in your faces. You wanted this moment to last forever.

“Y/n, would you like to go for dinner tomorrow night?” JJ asked and you smirked.

“JJ Maybank, are you asking me on a date?” He nodded and you stepped closer to him. “I’ll think about it.”

“What can I do to convince your faster?” He asked and then grabbed your waist to pull your closer to his body.

“I don’t know...”

“I have something in mind.”

“Do you, huh?” He nodded and then united his lips with yours, making your cheeks burn and your stomach feel butterflies. The kiss was slow until the desire of each other, came in. His tongue made it’s way to your mouth and then played with yours.

You separated looking for air and then he united his forehead with yours.

“I think I’m convinced.” You said almost in a whisper.

“Well, I’m a great kisser. What can I say?” He said jokingly and you let out a little laugh.

“Don’t ever change, JJ” you said softly.

“Never, princess.”

He gave you a hug and you felt the warmth in your body go bigger. You loved to have him around your body, he did make you feel safe. You remembered the confession he did to your father and when he said that he wanted to do the same thing for you, make you feel loved. Little did he know... he already did it.

the end.

***

Well! I hope y’all like the ending. I’m kinda shitty with endings, so forgive me! lol. This has been amazing and I hope I’ll see you around, love you!

tag list;

@thewackywriter @malfoysmarauders @jj-maybank-stan @flashmidnight @downbytheouterbanks @k-k0129 @anahgiedd @cilorawr @nicolettalauren @dolanfivsosxox @curlyshawnie @meganjudee @mrs-maybank @alexa-playafricabytoto @hurricane-abigail @howdyherron @im-thatannoying-girl @2410slb @sspidermanss @mourningstcrs @avashroom @sleepingalaska @queen1054 @poguesrforlife @harrysbbby @baileythepenguin @i-mmunity @timotaychalabae @daygiowvibe @outofstyles13 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @alwaysasadaesthetic @no-good-ideas @uglygal123 @lonely-kermit @sexytholland @cece-lives-here @lovelymaybankk @annedub @my-soul-is-the-moon @fanficscuziranout @blueevelvt @awkwardnesshabitat @certainstatesmantoadartisan @velvetxvignette @imsad05 @flomical @suckthisdicknigga

[kiras-sunshine]

Beside you in a blinding bliss

Tarlos. 4.4k

For: 911 couple’s retreat  (@911CouplesRetreat) day 1 “you have never looked more beautiful” + hurt/comfort

Summary:

He places it on the floor, near his shin. The fake flame flickers a little, but it is dim, and it certainly doesn’t illuminate the bathroom.

“Now it’s an anniversary,” TK remarks, softly, with a tiny sigh.

ao3

or

**

author’s note: this includes slight descriptions of puking

***

The room spins as Carlos attempts to move and he has to grab the edge of the bathtub to steady himself. He is already sitting on the floor, but even the smallest movement makes spots appear in the corner of his vision and he has to take a couple of deep breaths to get rid of them.

He feels ridiculously weak, and the bathroom smells awful. He cannot get rid of the reeking, even though he has flushed the toilet multiple times since puking his insides out, and he just wants to curl up in a ball and forget the whole day.

The nausea still wallows threateningly in the pit of his stomach, but he isn’t convinced that the guilt wouldn’t be overpowering the waves of nausea.

TK didn’t seem angry or disappointed when he found him puking in the bathroom. If anything, he was just concerned and worried about him. Carlos cannot really blame him, he would probably have the same reaction if it was the other way around, but Carlos cannot help but feel like he has let him down.

It’s their first anniversary, and they actually had plans. Nothing too fancy, but they had a dinner reservation to a place they have meant to try for ages, and he had done the reservation months ago. Sure, it is only a dinner, but it is more about the meaning the date holds rather than about the food.

TK deserves the world, he knows that much and it’s ridiculous and slightly stupid, but he just wanted to give him a nice, stress-free evening and celebrate their love, but apparently even that proved to be too difficult.  

Work was plain terrible. They were understaffed and the whole shift was filled with a call after a call, and he didn’t really have a time to sit down and eat lunch, so he grabbed a sandwich from a food truck and he knew it tasted funny, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought too long because the dispatch sent them to another scene.

With his luck, he ended up with a food poisoning.

At least, that is his best guess. He felt a little off when he left the precinct and by the time he got home, the nausea was too strong to keep bottled up inside, and since that he has spent most of the afternoon camping out at the bathroom floor.

Carlos sincerely hopes it is a food poisoning because it could mean he would feel better quicker and the last thing he wants to do is to pass on some stomach bug to TK. It would be a terrible gift as far as anniversary gifts go.

Carlos tries to suppress a yawn and for a moment, he ponders whether he could just lie down and fall asleep on the floor. It feels like every ounce of energy would have been drained out of him, and somehow, even sitting up seems to require too much currently.

His mind definitely feels a little hazy and he knows exhaustion is taking over, but he is almost sure he hears the front door open and close. Despite everything, it makes him smile. It helps to know that he isn’t alone.

A few moments pass before he hears the bathroom door crack open, and TK appears to the bathroom. He is carrying a grocery store plastic bag and Carlos is happy to see him again, but his stomach lurches with guilt as he sees the concern shining in his eyes.

“Your beloved car survived without a scratch,” TK tells him, in apparent form of greeting, as he sits right next to him on the floor without any hesitation. He leans against the bathtub and glances at him, but he presses a kiss on his temple.

Carlos flashes him a lopsided and quick smile.

TK’s driving skills are infamous among the 126, even if they let him drive the ambulance nowadays. Judd sent him a lot of pictures of the destroyed traffic cones when he tried to teach TK to drive the ladder truck. TK himself sent him pictures of the battered rear end of the truck.

Despite all of that, Carlos has always let him drive the Camaro when he has needed it, but still TK immediately took it as some sort of highest form of trust. Carlos does trust him, with everything and anything, so it is not unwarranted of him to think that way, but TK has developed the habit of declaring, after every time he has driven, that his car still remains un-crashed.

“And you?” Carlos asks, hoarsely.

“What?”

“I care a lot more if you survived without a scratch,” Carlos points out, kindly. It feels like an obvious thing to say, but he likes to remind him of it, anyway. He has to close his eyes for a moment because the room spins a little.

Any reluctance he might have towards letting him drive is because he only worries that TK will get himself hurt. But he has seen him drive, he isn’t that bad at it. He just has an unorthodox way of reversing.

“I did,” TK confirms with warm laughter, “I mean I only visited pharmacy and the supermarket.”

Carlos had every intention of texting TK that he wasn’t feeling well when he first got home, but he never got around to do it, and when TK arrived back to the apartment from his own shift, he gave him a full check-up before darting to buy some medicine that would make him feel better and stomach-friendly foods.

“You once got kidnapped from a parking lot,” he mumbles. Moving feels awful, but he rests his head against TK’s shoulder because holding his head up on his own feels impossibly tiring.

“True,” TK says, but his voice softens as he continues, “how are you feeling?”

“Like dying.”

It feels like an honest answer. It is only maybe a tiny bit of exaggeration, but he feels miserable. His stomach aches and cramps, and it is hard to focus on anything else except the nausea. Carlos lifts his hand a little, but as soon as he moves it, it starts to shake.

TK’s fingers immediately curl around his shaking hand and it almost makes it stop. He holds it firmly, but still gently and places their intertwined hands at Carlos’ lap.

Logically, he knows that handholding cannot cure nausea, but it almost feels like it. Feeling the touch of his skin helps him to focus on something else. His touch is almost like a concrete proof that he is not alone and that whatever he is feeling will pass, sooner or later.

TK lets out a sympathetic hum, and his hand feels almost too warm against his. “No dying on my watch, but you do look like crap.”

Carlos snorts. “I guess we’re officially out of the honeymoon stage.”

He means it as a joke, even though his voice comes out a little meek. In all honesty, he has no idea where the end or beginning of their honeymoon stage would lie. He still gets goddamn butterflies in his stomach when TK even as much as smiles at him, and he is probably more in love than ever.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” TK replies, and his voice is light and teasing, but it doesn’t sound like a complete joke to his ears, even though it must be.  

Carlos can imagine the way he is looking. He looked pale already in the locker room of the precinct and he knows he is drenched in sweat. Generally, he feels gross. It still feels like a small miracle that TK is willing to sit pressed next to him, kissing his head and holding his hand, without any complaints.

“That’s the spirit,” he manages to crook out before his stomach lurches and he has to puke again.

The sudden movement makes him dizzy and the taste in his mouth is bitter and awful. It sort of feels like he couldn’t breath properly and he is gasping for air, but TK is rubbing his shoulders in a soothing manner and it helps a little to keep the panic at the bay.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, “just breath. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

He isn’t sure if he loathes more the feeling of sickness or the fact that TK has to be there to witness it. If there is ever anyone in front of whom he has allowed himself to feel weak, it is TK, but he still cannot shake the uneasiness of being so helpless and small in front of him. He is also willing to bet that TK sees a lot grosser things at work on weekly basis, but that doesn’t mean he should witness it from him.

Carlos doesn’t really trust his voice to answer, so he just nods. He wants to believe that and as he catches his breath, he, at least temporarily, feels slightly better.

TK is still stroking his back.  “Have you drunk anything?”

“No.”

He didn’t even manage to drink a gulp of water when he ate that damn sandwich before they were sent to another scene.

Carlos turns around again, placing himself back to the familiar spot against the bathtub. TK studies him with his gaze for a moment before he pulls a bottle of water out of the plastic bag. He hands it to him, and the bottle feels lukewarm in his hands.

“Try to drink a little bit, okay? If it feels bad or you cannot keep it down, I can hook you into an IV bag of saline. If you want to.”  

His voice is soft and sincere, and full of concern, and Carlos cannot tell exactly how serious he is with his offer. All he knows that his first-aid kit has gone through a proper upgrade since TK started at his new job and he wouldn’t be that surprised if they had the equipment for simple infusion, too.

“I don’t think a food poisoning requires a paramedic,” he replies, slightly tentatively because he doesn’t want him to take it the wrong way. He opens the water bottle with shaky hands and takes a small sip out of it.

“Too bad that you’re dating one,” he remarks, but he watches him like a hawk as he keeps slowly drinking the water. “If the water’s fine, then you can take some electrolyte pills with it. They should help too.”

He lets out a non-committal grunt. Carlos doesn’t exactly mind that he is taking care of him. He rather likes it, and it makes him feel loved, but he doesn’t want to burden him after the twenty-hour shift he has just pulled off. “No need to bring work to home.”

TK stares at him for a moment. He squints his eyes a little as he tilts his head to the side. He opens his mouth but abruptly closes it again. “You--,” he starts, but he ends up shaking his head. “I’m not taking care of you ‘cause of some oath I’ve taken at work. I want to take care of you ‘cause I love you, and that’s really not work.”

Carlos looks down on his own hands, a little abashedly. It’s nothing he wouldn’t know already, but it is still a different thing to hear him say it. He knows TK loves him, he tells him it often enough and he shows it, too. It is almost a tangible thing that he can feel, and his love surrounds him every day, and he had no real doubts he would be doing any of this out of anything else except love. But he has lived most of his adult life alone, and it is difficult to accept help when he is used to managing on his own. He wants to accept it, but he cannot silence the part of his mind that keeps insisting that he is asking for too much.

He bites his bottom lip as he looks back up to TK. “Yeah, okay. I know. I’m glad you’re here.”

TK gives him a small smile, but it is definitely genuine one. It makes a different kind of warmth to spread in his stomach.

“Are we in the realm of possibility of leaving the bathroom?”

“Not really,” Carlos breathes out. He wants to leave the hard and cold floor, and possibly crash into the bed, but all of that feels like a distant wish. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” TK reassures, sitting back right next to him. “Nothing wrong with a bathroom.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” he points out, softly. He is a grown adult, and he isn’t in any sort of mortal danger. There is no reason why he couldn’t deal with a food poisoning on his own. Knowing that TK is at home would be more than enough.  “This isn’t really how I imagined our anniversary to be.”

“There’s no way I’d leave you alone when you’re feeling this terrible,” he says, without missing a beat, and he sounds determined, “and I brought something.”

TK rummages through the plastic bag and pulls out something small that looks like plastic. He presses something at the bottom of it and orange light appears in the middle of it. Carlos wants to blame his exhausted and dehydrated brain for taking it so long to realise that TK is holding a led candle in the middle of his palm.

He places it on the floor, near his shin. The fake flame flickers a little, but it is dim, and it certainly doesn’t illuminate the bathroom.

“Now it’s an anniversary,” TK remarks, softly, with a tiny sigh.

Carlos is pretty sure his heart clenches with the love he is feeling. The candle itself is a pathetic sight, but it is the thought of it behind it that makes his heart feel too small for all the love it tries to contain.

“That’s—nice,” he says, little lamely, but he appreciates more than he can tell. His mind is still too foggy to form any more coherent sentences and his head suddenly feels a lot heavier than before.

“I had to improvise,” TK laughs, but he stops quickly when he looks at him. “You want to lay down?”

Carlos manages to nod, and suddenly TK’s hands are on his shoulders and he gently and slowly steers him into lying position, but he places his head on his lap. As soon as he settles there, TK’s fingers are already in his hair and he runs them along his scalp.

“You know, I don’t mind that much that our plans got cancelled,” TK says, softly, breaking the silence after a couple of quiet moments.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better.”

He already feels miserable enough lying curled up on the bathroom floor and using his boyfriend’s thighs as a pillow. His self-pity is already covering all the pity he needs, and he knows he brought this on himself by eating the sandwich even when his instincts told there was something odd about it.

“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better,” TK huffs, almost amusedly, “of course I hope you’d be able to stand on your feet and not to puke everything out, but we can have dinner some other time.”

Carlos knows he is right. It is already a small miracle that both of them have the evening off, and he guesses the meaning and idea of the anniversary is more important than celebrating it on the actual day.

“Yeah.”

“It’s just a day,” TK says, almost casually.

It is ridiculous, but it breaks Carlos’ heart a little. He knows it is not TK’s fault if he isn’t bothered by the cancellation or if he doesn’t see their anniversary the same way as he does, but he cannot control the pang of hurt it creates.

Carlos knows he might come off as a reserved person, but he has always liked to make a big deal of any sort of celebrations he has shared with his loved ones. His sisters’ and friends’ birthdays. Their high school graduations. All the holidays. His parents’ anniversaries. TK’s one year of sobriety.

He likes making his loved ones happy and sharing happy moments with them and showing by that how much he loves and appreciates them, and just how proud he is of them. TK has always appreciated everything he has planned for him, and he had gone out and the above with Carlos’ birthday and with that horrendous tumour cake for his dad.

And it had been nice, that he had finally met someone who appreciated that side of him, and matched with him and made the similar effort for him, but he should have guessed that at some point, eventually, he and TK would clash on it, too.

He knows TK loves him, and it is not like he would be second-guessing his feelings or commitment, but it feels stupid and selfish to hope that the day that is supposed to be about the two of them would hold more significance for him.

That it wouldn’t be just a day among the rest of them.

If there is a silver lining, it is that his nonchalant reaction is easier to deal with than plain disappointment of their plans being cancelled.

“It is,” he lies, quietly.

TK lets out a heavy sigh. “That came out wrong.”

“It’s fine,” he rushes to murmur.

It is the truth. It feels worse than it actually is because he is already wallowing self-pity, and he knows it will be fine once he manages to sleep through the night and when he doesn’t feel like his stomach is plotting to kill him.

“It’s not fine,” TK insists, accompanied by another sigh, but it is a lot softer this time. “The anniversary, it’s a big deal. Of course it is and I want it to be a big deal. And I don’t want you thinking that it wouldn’t mean a lot to me, because it does.”

Carlos quietly hums as a response because it sounds like TK has something more to say.

“You mean a lot to me, and I’ve been so—happy during this year and so obviously I want to go all out on the celebrations, but just—all I wanted, really, was to spend the day with you, and while this,” he continues softly and vaguely gestures towards the bathroom “wasn’t the plan, I’m still not disappointed. I get to be with you, and I love you as much here as I’d in some fancy restaurant.”

Carlos is certain he is so dehydrated that there is no possible way for him to tear up, but still, as he listens to his quiet rambling, his eyes start to sting. It definitely awakes a whole another twirl of emotions inside of his heart, but this time it is just raw happiness, love and plain affection.

A tiny bit of embarrassment mixes in with it all, because he misinterpreted his words and demeanour, but he wants to blame that on his own insecurities and the food poisoning clouding his mind. But he is still a little bit of in awe because somehow TK knew exactly what he needed to hear, and all of it is just overwhelming.

“The restaurant would probably smell better,” Carlos ends up deadpanning, because he is still a little speechless.

A surprised laughter escapes from TK’s mouth and he shakes his head, but he scrunches his nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And it means a lot to me, too,” he adds with more serious tone.

Carlos has known since the beginning that they share a connection that is special and profound, somehow, and he has wanted him since he saw him, but he is still a little bit in awe that they have made it so far despite their rocky start.

He wants him to know it, too, even if his mind cannot come up with anything too eloquent.

“I know,” TK replies, simply, “and you’re in no shape to go to work tomorrow, so I took a day off too.”

He sounds almost delighted as he declares it.

“You didn’t really have to do that.”

It feels just a bit unfair that TK has to use one of his day offs to take care of him, and only because he ate something that had gone stale.

TK brushes his thumb across his forehead gently. “The twenty-minute trip to the store was nerve-wracking enough, I’m not going to leave you alone for twenty-something hours. And it hardly is your fault that you got food poisoning, babe. It’s just bad luck.”

“I’m not complaining if I get to have you all for myself,” he murmurs as he shifts a little on the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, but surprisingly the wave of nausea never comes. “I don’t know about the fault, but I cannot have that bad luck, I still ended up with you.”

TK laughs, and he is pleased because that is what he was aiming for. His laughter is beautiful, and he always wants to hear it, but right now it is the most soothing sound he could imagine.

“This has nothing do with luck,” TK says, gently, “but I sure feel lucky.”

Carlos just smiles at him.

“We could do new plans tomorrow,” he continues, running his fingertip along his collarbone. “I think we both have next Thursday off?”

Carlos knows that they have been together for a year and that it shouldn’t be too big of a surprise that TK knows his shifts by heart, but it still fills him with particularly fond warmth because they both have irregular shifts, so he has to learn his rooster, on top of his own, every week, and he does it every time.

“I guess we can celebrate our 371 days together too,” Carlos caves in, and through the exhaustion, he can feel the corner of his mouth twitching into a gradual but affectionate smile.

Carlos was never too caught up on the idea of celebrating the anniversary on the exact day, but it could have been nice. He guesses the anniversary is more about what they make it out to be, because after all, it is theirs. And knowing that TK is at least as much into the idea of it, warms his heart a lot.

“Exactly,” TK chuckles, “it will be the best 371-day anniversary you’ve ever had. And we can have dinner today, too, once you’re ready to depart the toilet. I’ll come up with something.”

“Trying to give me a double food poisoning? That’s cold.”

He tries his best not to smile, but it is impossible, and a grin breaks out on his face quickly. TK pretends to be shocked and offended, but his smile persistently stays visible, too, and the softness of his gaze never fades. He nudges him gently with his elbow.

“Hey, you’re on a strict stomach-friendly diet and just for that, I’ll mix the applesauce with the rice.”

Carlos frowns at the mere thought of that.

“The other option is bananas and toast. Mint tea is supposed to help, too.”

His stomach is wallowing still, but he is rather sure that all of that would sound unappetizing, even if he was feeling perfectly fine. He is also aware that he will at least try to eat whatever monstrosity TK comes up with because it is still made by him.

“Sounds—bland.”

“It’s supposed to be,” he remarks, “it won’t be a mind-blowing culinary experience, but when anything I’ve cooked for you would’ve been. The difference is that this time it’s going to help and make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” Carlos whispers, more seriously and sincerely than the situation probably calls for, especially when TK is cracking jokes about his own cooking skills, but he wants him to know he is grateful. More than those two little words can convey.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, “are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, a little,” he lets out a sound that only half-resembles a chuckle. “I’m still sorry I ruined tonight.”

TK might not blame him, and maybe, despite his own thinking that this would have been preventable, it is one of those uncontrollable things. Yet, he thinks he deserves an apology.

“Nothing’s ruined, really,” TK starts, “and this isn’t a terrible anniversary. Little unconventional for sure, but we’re together, in love and there’s candlelight, so I think we could’ve done a lot worse.”

“I know,” Carlos breathes out, “the candle really saved this.”

It sends TK laughing again. “And if we’re being completely honest, we have a tendency to mess up dinner plans. Especially the big ones.”

“True.”

“I’m willing to bet that if we ever get married, a natural disaster will strike,” TK jokes.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Carlos feels how TK’s muscles tense up, and he goes a little still. His fingers stop moving in his hair, but at least he isn’t pulling his hand away.

Marriage isn’t something they have ever outright discussed. Obviously, they are both in it for the long haul, and he has always assumed that marriage is something they are slowly heading towards to. He knows TK has his own baggage about his failed proposal, but it makes him happier than he could say that TK can make jokes about marriage already.

Because Carlos can definitely imagine himself marrying him. He can more than imagine it, he wants to do it. He knows there is no rush, and that taking their time is a good thing, but he would marry him in a heartbeat or in ten years. Either way, he knows it would be something that will bring immense joy to him.

“Bold of you to assume it would be only one natural disaster,” he comments, a brilliant grin spreading on his face, “it will probably be at least two.”

TK immediately relaxes. He lets out a breath and continues to run his fingers through his hair. “There should be a safety manual for the whole thing.”

“Oh, definitely,” Carlos laughs, still little weakly, “evacuation plans and everything.”

After the active volcano, it feels like nothing that the universe throws at their way would surprise him anymore, and he knows they have had their fair share of weird and ridiculous calls, and that they have survived all of that so far, but a wedding would definitely be the biggest dinner possible, and it seems like tempting fate.

“We’ll send it with the invitations.”

He still feels weak and sick, but the feeling of pure happiness is starting to overpower both of them.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Carlos admits, quietly.

“Yeah, me neither.”