#but then again... i still feel the itch to finish it. i barely recall the plot now but i know i was hmmm either a third thru or abt halfway

[sunmoonjune]

spring tides [like the moon universe]

pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!oc!reader

warnings: vague mentions of eating disorder, death and torture, scars, ptsd, very fluffy! a lot of comfort! not so dark this time xD I did not proofread this :D

word count: 14.1k

a/n: hello y'all :D I have returned with some LTM for you <;3 This is a oneshot for my like the moon universe! You don't necessarily need to read the series to understand this fic but it definitely helps the immersion and understanding some of the plot points! you can find all chapters of ltm on my masterlist <3

Seonghwa remembers something in the spring of your third year with Ateez. As he watches you at Jongho’s side, silently offering the guard slices of fruit as he cleans his claymore, Seonghwa recalls that he doesn’t know when your birthday is. 

Jongho is murmuring something about the design of his blade and the engraving along the handle when Seonghwa stands abruptly. The eldest shifts on his feet, brows furrowed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. His lips purse when Jongho questions him. 

“Hwa?” 

The red-haired guard looks up at his partner with a lilt of concern in his voice, hands halting their motion on his blade. Jongho’s dark eyes glint as the fading sun catches the hickory color of his irises. 

“Is there something wrong?” Jongho continues, already shifting to stand to his feet. “Are you alright?”

You rock on your feet, legs stretching as you prepare to stand with Jongho. Your eyes flicker across camp, scanning for whatever has caught Seonghwa’s attention. There’s two swords still strapped to your back and you can nearly feel the cool metal pressing into your skin – a haunting reminder of the terrible things you’ve done with them. The buzz beneath your skin itches with the beginnings of adrenaline, already prepared to stand and defend the two Ateez members at your sides.

Seonghwa lifts his hands and shakes his head to soothe you and Jongho before you can stand. He softly waves his hands to encourage you to sit back onto the carved log beneath you, a wary smile on his lips. 

“No, it’s nothing,” he murmurs, still gnawing at his lip as he finishes. He offers a barely concealed sigh and shakes his head again. “‘M alright, just remembered something.” 

Jongho doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he settles back onto the floor regardless. His hands return to wiping down his claymore but he doesn’t look away from his partner. 

You share the sentiment, continuing to watch Seonghwa and making note of each creak and scratch that echoes through the camp. You don’t know what startled him, but you’ll be prepared for the next time. The fruit in your hands has made your fingers sticky in the brief moments you spent looking up at Seonghwa rather than cutting the supple treat. 

You don’t mind though. You like slicing fruit for Jongho.  He doesn’t eat enough, you’ve noticed. You’re not quite sure why, but you suppose you don’t quite know how to ask. No matter the reason, it brings you comfort when he continues to take slices of succulent fruit from you as he cleans. He doesn’t look up, simply trusting you to place the pieces into his hands so he can eat without trouble. When you sat beside him that morning with the fruit in your hands, Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention it. You ate the first few slices before offering them to the wine-haired guard, who accepted them with a small smile. Every so often, he turns slightly, ensuring that you’re continuing to eat as much as he does. 

At one point he tilts his head back, looking up at you with those pretty, boba pearl eyes and opens his mouth slightly. Both his hands are occupied, busy with the intricate care his blade necessitates. With your heart thumping quickly in your chest, you place a slice of fruit on Jongho’s waiting lips and try desperately not to linger on the thought of how full and supple they are. 

“Thanks, love,” he murmurs without looking at you, the words sweet and saccharine in the low timber of his voice. 

Seonghwa laughed when Jongho’s cheeks pinkened after that, but you weren’t really sure why. 

Turning his attention to you, Seonghwa looks down at your figure. Sitting with a slight slump in your shoulders, the spymaster smiles faintly. Slouched posture is a good sign, he muses. You’re comfortable. 

When you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning Seonghwa’s thoughts, you reach up to gingerly grasp his fingers. There’s no hesitation. There hasn’t been in a long while. Seonghwa extends his hand in offering when he notices your appendages twitch. His warmth sinks into your palm and you nearly hum at the soothing feeling. 

You squeeze his hand twice before lingering for a longer third.

‘Are you okay?’ you silently question.

Seonghwa’s lips quirk into another gentle smile, but his eyes are distant. It makes your heart tug painfully. The hickory of his near-black irises is muted. You miss the glimmer of those sweet, dark eyes that show when he smiles. 

“Yeah, m’alright, lovebug.” 

Your heart slams into your ribs – a delighted feeling. Lovebug. You like that. 

Seonghwa leans closer to repeat the gesture, squeezing twice and then lingering for an ‘okay.’ His other hand lifts to run over the back of your head with a delicate movement. Fingers carefully scratch against your scalp and you resist the temptation to lean into his hands and exhale softly. 

“I have to go see Joong and Yunho, though. I really did just remember something I wanted to speak to ‘em about,” he whispers. Dragging his nails gently over the nape of your neck once more, Seonghwa smiles when you finally lean into his touch with a quiet rumble. He thinks you look positively cat-like. When one set of lashes flutters against your cheek in a tired, pleased expression, Seonghwa could coo at the endearing look. He withholds only to save you the embarrassment of his mother-hen tendencies. 

Your one eye flickers over his expression once more before you relent and nod your head just once. Seonghwa’s hand begins to pull away from your head, and this time you do make a tiny sound of sadness. The eldest feels his heart squeeze at your reluctance to be parted from him, leaning close to drag his thumb over the stiff material of your mask with a sweet touch before he stands upright once more. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? You and Jongho finish up and join us for dinner soon.” 

You let out a short exhale through your nose, a sound they’ve taken to signify your agreement. Jongho’s lips twitch at the noise, trying to hold back the laugh he wants to let out. 

“Okay,” you whisper softly beneath your breath as you lean back against the back of the log. Seonghwa smiles and finally shifts his stance to leave, only pressing a gentle kiss to Jongho’s brow before walking off. Your head tilts one last time as Seonghwa leaves, wondering if perhaps one day he’ll kiss your head too when he takes his leave. 

The archer finds Yunho before Hongjoong. The tallest of Ateez is easy to collect when Seonghwa gives him a meaningful look. The tension in the eldest’s brow must convince Yunho that there is something important he is needed for because he immediately follows after Seonghwa. The two find themselves in the Captain’s cavern, his and Seonghwa��s really, standing before the long-haired leader with a small frown on the archer’s lips. 

Hongjoong mimics the frown, coming to a stand behind the desk currently holding a plethora of worn maps. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his fists together before he turns to face Yunho with a solemn expression. 

“When’s her birthday?” 

Yunho’s brow quirks at the same time the tension in his shoulders finally loosens a notch. Sighing softly, he licks his lips and answers.

“Tiny’s?” 

Seonghwa nods, the expression on his face unchanging: serious and solemn, as if the situation was as grave as a wake. Hongjoong glances between the two men, his brow now lifted in surprise, but he says nothing. 

“It’s been three years since she’s been with us,” Seonghwa murmurs tersely. “But we haven’t celebrated her birthday. The first year I could understand missing it – I mean, she was still adjusting to Ateez, and even after that she’s still a little apprehensive. Not that I blame her, of course – I just… It’s been three full years and I can’t believe we’ve missed her birthday at least three times.” 

Yunho’s bottom teeth sink into his lip and his eyes suddenly dart towards the floor. He swallows once, shifting on his feet and sighs as he ponders how to answer Seonghwa’s question. The eldest watches his partner with that same, tense look and his eyes glisten with something sad – something understanding, as if he knows Yunho’s answer before he speaks it aloud. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answers quietly. He looks down at his feet, unable to meet his elder’s eyes. His eyes squeeze shut with another sigh that shakes through his shoulders. He repeats himself louder, still just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.” 

Hongjoong steps forward from behind his desk. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” 

“I mean I don’t know,” Yunho whispers sadly. “And she doesn’t either.” 

Seonghwa licks his lips, grasping at strings as he scrambles to find the right words to say. 

“I don’t understand. How can she not know her own birthday?” 

Yunho won’t look up from his feet. His fingers curl into fists and the tips of his nails dig into his palms from the tightness of his grip. He can’t bring himself to loosen his hold. 

“Tiny, uh… After everything that happened with her – with that village, they don’t particularly regard her… fondly, you know?” 

Yunho speaks slowly and methodically, as if trying carefully to pick the right words to say. His tone is terse and cold, the disdain for the village of his past more than evident in his voice. Hongjoong looks up at his partner with a frown still on his lips, his heart pulsing sadly in his chest. 

“But she doesn’t know her own birthday? No one in her village told either of you?”

Yunho sighs again, finally looking up at his Captain with grief plastered across his features in an expression neither man can ignore. Seonghwa is already stepping forward, settling an arm over Yunho’s shoulders and rubbing his thumb across the taller man’s jaw. 

Yunho leans closer to Seonghwa and continues, voice deep and throaty with the weight of his words. “We celebrated it once. Back when we were young – back when… Daia was still around.” 

Hongjoong looks away. 

“But even then,” Yunho continues softly, trying not to think of the bony cage casting shadows of your quivering form. You were so young. Little fingers grasped the cold bars that separated him from you, desperately whispering a plea for him to leave. He should have known your father wouldn’t let you celebrate your birthday like he and the other children did. But the smile on your face was so pure, so genuinely happy that he could never utter the words that may wipe it away. 

 “We didn’t know the exact date – just that she was born in the spring. Her father… well he killed the attendants that assisted her mother through labor. Not that we could prove it, of course. Anyone around for Bug’s birth… isn’t around anymore. And Bug was raised kind of secluded the first few years of her life. No one knows exactly when she was born and her father certainly wouldn’t say.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes continue to glisten with that broken look, and he licks his drying lips before he speaks. His heart throbs painfully, echoing the sadness in his face.. “And… after Daia wasn’t around anymore?” 

Seonghwa hates that he asks. 

Yunho shifts on his feet and looks away again. 

“I, uh… I don’t know much of what happened after Daia…” he trails off for a long moment. “By that time, the village and her father turned their backs on Bug, and I… I was exiled a few years later.” 

Seonghwa thumbs over Yunho’s jaw again, trying to soothe his lover’s agony. Hongjoong steps closer and lays his hand across Seonghwa’s back, their combined sadness near tangible in the cavern hall. 

“Bug’s birthday…” Yunho finally continues. “She’s never seen it as a good thing, you know? Her father and the village certainly didn’t see it that way.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes sadden, the shine of his irises dulling at Yunho’s confession. He turns over his shoulder to look at Hongjoong and presses his lips together, as if regretting bringing up the topic altogether. 

“A good thing?” Hongjoong whispers. 

Yunho shakes his head, his frown dragging down his lips as he breathes softly. “Not something worth celebrating. The day she was born was… the start of everything bad, I guess.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes squeeze shut, the burn of tears forcing pressure to build in the corners. 

“Sometimes I think,” Yunho whispers tiredly, his eyes cloudy and unfocused as he stares into the distance. “I think she might hate it; that she might despise the day of her birth because of all the pain that came after.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to soothe the anguish that swells inside his ribs. There’s grief there, rage too, settling in the pit of his stomach and pushing upwards into his chest and throat. It’s not directed at you – it could never be. It’s towards your father, towards your village, towards anyone that has looked at you with disdain and uttered that foul moniker he knows makes you flinch. 

“I’m sorry, Yun.” 

Yunho shakes his head, leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and looking down at Hongjoong with his eyes glistening with welling tears. He swallows, clearly resisting the urge to cry, and kisses Seonghwa’s thumb when it brushes his mouth. “‘S okay, Seonghwa. I know your intentions were honorable.” 

Seonghwa nods, finally leaning forward until his head rests against Yunho’s collarbone. An arm wraps around the eldest’s shoulders and Hongjoong presses himself against Seonghwa’s back, encasing both him and Yunho. 

“So don’t bring up her birthday, then?” Hongjoong whispers, frown still drawing his lips downward. He speaks the question into Seonghwa’s shoulder blade, his lips grazing the tunic covering his skin. 

Yunho is silent for a long moment. No one speaks and the sounds of their hushed breaths are all that echo through the hollowed cavern. Yunho ponders his Captain’s question in the silence and thinks of your growth in the years you’ve spent in their camp. Would you rather they never mention your birthday again? Or would you appreciate a different kind of memory to replace the shaded pains of the ones long past?

Soon after, Yunho leans forward to bury his face into Seonghwa’s hair before he breathes deeply and pulls back, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. He thinks of you and that youthful grin that used to grace your lips more often as a child. Yunho recalls the mischief in your smile and the wonder that would flash across your eyes, and he begins to twist an idea around his thoughts. It’s that look he wants to see again. He always wants to see it; the mischief, the awe, the teasing grin you used to throw over your shoulder to get him to chase you through the training grounds. He wants that so badly. 

“Actually, Captain…” 

Hongjoong peels his head away from Seonghwa’s shoulder, looking up to meet Yunho’s eyes with a raised brow and a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”

Yunho finally manages a fraction of a smile, stroking his hand over Seonghwa’s shoulders as he speaks. 

“I think there might be a way we can show her that her birth is something worth celebrating. I’ll need your help though.” 

“Anything.” 

“Anything for her,” Seonghwa finishes at the same time Hongjoong speaks. 

Yunho’s heart swells. The soft grin on his features begins to stretch, mirrored by his two elders. Pride begins to surge beneath his skin and it makes him feel fuzzy. 

“What do you need?” Hongjoong whispers into the fraction of space separating their lips. Yunho huffs a smile, leaning closer until his mouth brushes against his leader’s. 

“How do you feel about a little trip, Captain?” 

Time passes easily. About a week goes by after the conversation between you, Jongho and Seonghwa before Hongjoong announces that Ateez will be spending a few nights traveling away from camp. He won’t say where they’re traveling to nor why they’re going, but there’s a mischievous grin on his lips when you tilt your head in suspicion. No one will tell you anything about the adventure other than handing you a cloth pack to gather some things for the trip. 

Mingi helps you clean your blades and slides them into the scabbards on your back for you. Seonghwa packs food away carefully and slides extra servings of dried and cured meats into your pack followed by the fruit he knows you and Jongho love. San and Yeosang sit by your side as you help sort the first aid supplies the camp may need. The inky vines wrapping around Yeosang’s forearms flashes from beneath his sleeves, and you find yourself following the sight of the tattoo each time you peek a glimpse of golden skin covered in leafy shapes. 

San laughs and raises an eyebrow at his lover when he flicks his shirt above his waistband playfully, showcasing the span of scales descending over his hip and up his waist. He giggles when you reach forward to pull his shirt higher over his side, eager to follow the lines of ink up his torso. San pushes your hands away and promises to show you one day. Wooyoung enters the cavern a moment later and exchanges a knowing look with San, as if the same pattern of obsidian scales crawls up the opposite side of his own torso. 

On the morning Hongjoong announced their leave, you pack the last of your things diligently in the cloth pack given to you. There’s something fond rippling through your chest as you slide a hand over the large tunic laid across your bed. 

The sensation seeps all the way down to your toes, a bittersweet happiness that arose from the realization that you’ve never… owned things before. 

In that village, nothing was ever yours. It was always stolen or taken, never owned. 

But now… 

Now there’s all kinds of things in your corner of the medical cavern. There’s the little rope of twine with eight little beads Yeosang gave you to fiddle with so you wouldn’t pick and pull at your nails. There’s the bear-hide blanket Jongho handmade when you started to grow cold in the winter nights. A pile of spare clothes tailored to fit your size sits beneath your bed. A hollowed shell of smooth, rich cream sits beside you, specially made for you by Wooyoung and San when they noticed your scars were particularly aching in the cold weather. There’s a whetstone and cleaning tools beside your swords, left there by Mingi when he noticed your blades were dulling. Seonghwa always leaves a myriad of flowers beside your bed each week, and the dried stems of all his past bouquets hang above your on a piece of twine Joong brought you. There’s armor and chainmail beneath your bed, presented by Hongjoong with a shy smile. He cleans them for you when he thinks you’re not looking, ensuring the armor stays in good shape and protects you well. One of Yunho’s thicker tunics lies at the foot of your bed, a staple of your growing closet of clothes. He knows you like having his scent nearby. There’s books too, ones from the medical cavern and ones from Wooyoung, who you’ve discovered is quite the avid reader. 

There’s just… all sorts of things. 

And you’ve never really owned things before. It’s strange. And quite enjoyable, you decide.

You like owning things. You like being part of Ateez – being part of a family. 

With your lips twitching upwards into a fond smile, you stand with the last of your belongings and slide the straps of your cloth pack over your shoulders. It sits a little strangely on your back but you huff and step out of the cavern anyway. 

The rest of Ateez is already outside, shuffling the last of their belongings into storage and closing up the cave system behind you. A wooden sort of door slides shut behind you and the viny, earthen cover falls over it. It’s perfectly concealed from the wild, appearing just like any other cropping of rocks and stone. You marvel at their ingenuity and turn to find Wooyoung approaching you with a smile on his lips. 

“Good morning, Bug. Are you ready?” 

Your head tilts with a question as Wooyoung’s hands shift upwards to the straps of your pack. He raises a brow once, always asking for permission before he touches, and you shift closer and slide your hands onto his hips with a nod of your head. Wooyoung’s smile seems to widen, if at all possible, and he carefully begins to adjust the straps of your pack so it sits better across your back. Your gaze follows his hands, tracing over the fading scar on his one wrist – the space where a rusty shackle used to sit. Your lips quirk happily at the sight of the missing metal cuff, now long buried in the earth. He hums happily at the feeling of your hands on his waist, and chuckles beneath his breath when he feels your hands attempting to weasel under his shirt – likely another attempt to get a look at the tattoo you know sits there. 

Wooyoung huffs a breath as you skate a gentle hand over his bare hip, focusing on the wavy shape of an oscillating line your draw over his skin. He translates the word as ‘what’ and understands your inquisition to mean ‘Ready for what?’ 

“Can’t tell you,” he laughs, his chest shaking with the motion as you squeeze his hip in retaliation. “Sorry, baby. Captain’s orders; take it up with Hongjoong if you want to know so badly.” 

Your one eye rolls and Wooyoung laughs again, that bright, cackling sound echoing through the trees in a burst of noise that makes your heart flutter. You like Wooyoung’s laugh. 

“C’mon you two!” Hongjoong calls from a distance, already beginning to pace towards the southwest. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s get moving.” 

You respond with a choked hum despite knowing your Captain can’t hear it. Wooyoung grins, finally satisfied with the adjustments he’s made on your pack, and turns over his shoulder to call back, “We’re coming, Captain. Relax a little. It’s barely dawn, we’re on schedule.” 

You don’t need to see Hongjoong to know what expression the Captain has on his face. A tiny smile appears on your lips and when Wooyoung turns back to face you with a hand held out in offering, his grin beams once more. 

“C’mon, baby. You wanna walk with me and Sannie today?” 

Your answering nod is a little too eager, but Wooyoung doesn’t mention it. 

To you, anyway. The smug grin he shoots over his shoulder at Mingi and Yunho is met with a sigh and an eye roll. The vulgar gesture Mingi throws back goes unseen by you too. 

Seonghwa sees it though, and the sound of Mingi’s squawk when he’s slapped across the shoulder by the archer makes Wooyoung laugh again. 

It’s springtime. The forest is filled with bright shades of emerald green and flowers have begun to sprout along patches of sunlight. Lupin tickle at your ankles when you pass and you watch their lilac and lavender petals sway in the wind with a fond expression. Your last bouquet from Seonghwa was fresh Lupin flowers, a growing favorite of yours he has noticed. 

Wooyoung holds your hand as you walk, sometimes shifting to allow San to take his place. They talk happily as you stride through the forest, following Yeosang and Jongho as they lead your band of warriors through the trees. You still don’t know where you’re going nor why you’re going there, but you trust your Captain and you trust your family. 

Eventually, you unlink your hands from San to step ahead and walk besides Mingi and Yunho. San’s resounding pout and soft sigh are lost on you, but Wooyoung slides his hand into his partner’s empty fingers with a grin and a teasing poke to San’s side. Mingi intertwines his fingers with yours with a beaming grin and a happy chuckle, swinging your hands between you as you walk. He points out the flora and fauna he recognizes along the hike, explaining their uses as he recalls Yeosang’s teachings. He mentions the honey-haired healer’s tattoo sleeve of medicinal herbs and shows you some of the plants he recognizes to be inked into Yeosang’s skin. You eagerly categorize the leaves and petals of each plant, hoping that you’ll one day be able to find each one decorating Yeosang’s skin. 

The first night away from camp is spent sleeping beneath the stars. 

Your group of nine lays huddled together in a clearing in the pines, with a small fire burning quietly in the center for warmth. Shifts for watch are assigned and you find yourself curling between Yunho and San that night with a promise to take the final watch with Seonghwa. With cicadas clicking in the distance and a cool breeze rustling the branches above you, you find sleep easy that night. Strangely enough, despite resting out in the open with no cover around, you find you can sleep calmly. Nestled between your Yunho and your San, their body heat keeping you warm even underneath the fur blankets swaddled around you, you feel safe enough to sink into a well-earned sleep. You know the others will wake you if there’s trouble lurking about. They would never let anything happen to their family. 

The next day is spent between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, happily listening to their stories and eagerly nudging the both of them to show you some of the ink decorating their skin. Once you found out about Yeosang’s tattoos, there was nothing holding you back from asking the others about their own. Seonghwa relents with a teasing grin towards Hongjoong, showing you the pattern of large scales that crawl up his forearms. You trace the delicate scales with a happy sound, not noticing the shiver that crawls down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his partner, but he almost wishes to show you the ink decorating his back and spine too. He only waves you away with a laugh when you turn to him with a tilt of your head and a happy question on your lips. 

That night you sleep between Yeosang and Jongho, one of your legs wedged between the youngest’s and your hand clumsily intertwined between the healer’s fingers. This time, the nine of you settle in a cliff alcove, sheltered from the fog and the light drizzle of rain that spatters through the forest around midnight. 

There’s no telling how far you’ve traveled from Ateez’s hollow. It’s been two days of mostly hiking and stopping for breaks and meals, but you’ve long grown used to strenuous labor so the walk is not nearly as difficult as you once thought it to be. You still have little to no knowledge on your destination as your Captain is tight-lipped about the matter. He only gives you soft smiles and quiet laughter when you nag him about where or why you’ve left camp. 

On the third and last day of your long journey, you walk between Yeosang and Jongho at the front of your pack. The two have been leading you for three days, seeming to know the way without needing a map or compass. Every once and a while, Yeosang looks up at the night sky and lifts a hand to palm at the stars. You understand he must be checking your position, ensuring that they’re still on the right path, but you don’t ask. You find Polaris winking down at you each night with a fondness in your chest, and you give her a gentle, barely-there smile each time you see her. 

The healer and his partner pace through the trees with newfound urgency that morning. The two members eagerly shuffle through the trees with beaming grins and an energy that you cannot help but mimic. They’re excited about something – unfathomably so. 

“We’re almost there, honey,” Yeosang encourages you, holding out a hand to help you scale the final boulder before you begin your descent back down the mountainside. “Just another mile or so, I promise.”

You trust him. 

The others have begun to feed on the buzzing atmosphere building in the group. There’s tension simmering, but a good kind, as if there’s something awaiting your family at your destination. You don’t know what it is, but it must be something good if they’re eagerly beginning to quicken the pace. 

Soon after you begin your descent down the small mountain, the dense foliage of pine trees and packed soil gives way to something softer – something you’ve never quite seen or felt before. It’s pliable and squishy beneath your feet, allowing your weight to sink into the material with each step. It leaves footprints in your wake, the ground shifting and moving beneath your feet. 

Sand. 

It’s sand. 

You know it’s sand because Yeosang has some collected in a small jar in the medical cavern. You’ve never seen it before: sand or the sea. You found the tiny bottle of eroded stone once and carefully examined it with a puzzled expression until Yeosang found you. The miniscule grains of rock and shell shifted in the bottle as Yeosang explained where it was from. 

You listened to him for hours that day. 

He talked about the sea and his life as a captain of his own ship from the hour of the sun’s peak until it descended beneath the horizon. You were fascinated. Eagerly hanging onto every single one of his words, you listened to Yeosang with a rapture you couldn’t describe. He spoke of the ocean and the smell of salt in the fresh air, mentioning that there was a particular hint of something so ocean-like in the scent that he couldn't begin to describe. Yeosang described the sand and the shore, detailing how the plush sand like the stuff in his bottle gave way to harder packed ground the closer you grew to the sea. He talked of how it felt to play in the waves and to feel the cool touch of the ocean on his skin. 

You marveled at him for hours, longing desperately to one day know the smell he spoke of, to feel the ocean breeze tickle your skin and to feel its waves brush against your feet. 

It sounded wonderful. 

So when the sand beneath your feet begins to thicken, giving way to clumsier footsteps and the sound of something roaring in the distance, you perk upwards. 

Your entire body slams to a halt, startling San who walks behind you. Jerking upwards, your one eye darts over to Yeosang, who stands with Jongho at his side, already looking at you. There’s this look in their eyes; something fond and gentle – an expression you’ve begun to recognize. They watch you as you begin to piece together the information you’ve gathered of this little trip, smiles on their faces as you realize where they’ve taken you. 

At your side, San begins to bend forward, his hands reaching out to pull at the laces of your boots and chuckling beneath his breath. You reach out to stabilize yourself on his shoulder as you make a sound of confusion. 

‘What’s going on?’ you try to question without speaking.

At your back, Yunho runs a hand down your spine and soothes the tension in your shoulders. You reach back, grasping his hand with a strength that surprises you and draw that oscillating squiggle across the back of his hand with a bewildered expression. 

‘What’s happening?’ 

There’s another word you want to say. One you don’t have a translation for. A word you’ve never spoken or seen. 

Ocean. The sea. 

You don’t have a word for it. 

But you can smell it now. That salty, fresh sort of scent with a hint of something you cannot place. Just like Yeosang described. 

The sea. 

San taps your leg, garnering your attention and helping you lift your foot so you can place it on his knee. He’s kneeling at your feet, one leg propped up to lift your foot and the other in the sand beneath him. The healer pulls at your laces, beginning to untie your shoes and pull them from your feet with a grin. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that low timber that makes you shiver. “Let’s get these off.”

Your held tilts in confusion. Seonghwa chuckles behind you, leaning into Mingi’s side and shooting a look over at Wooyoung. “Gotta take your shoes off unless you want sand in the soles, Bug. It’ll be a pain to walk back with all that in ‘em. I promise you’ll never be able to get it all out.” 

Hongjoong laughs from beside Jongho, the Captain throwing his head back with a knowing grin. “Speaking from experience, huh, darling?” 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores his lover, dropping a hand to intertwine with Wooyoung’s. The younger eagerly locks their fingers together, smiling happily and leaning his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as you process everything. 

The others begin to pull off their own shoes, tying them to their packs or holding the laces in their fingers. Mingi laughs and pushes Wooyoung when he bends over to undo his laces, and when Wooyoung stumbles, he shouts indignantly and lurches upwards for revenge. Seonghwa laughs and tries to settle them, only to end up yanked out of the way by a grinning Yeosang. Wooyoung and Mingi screech at each other, beginning to race down the sand towards the roaring sound that continues to swell in the distance. 

You worriedly look down at San, his dark irises already looking up at you with adoration swirling behind them. The healer pulls off your sock and carefully sets your foot back onto the sand, watching as you marvel at the plush, cool material beneath the soles of your feet. 

“C’mon, tiny,” Yunho laughs behind you, chest rumbling as he speaks. The vibration echoes through your back from how close the warrior is pressed against you. He grins when you shiver pleasantly. “We’ve gotta catch up.” 

San lifts your other foot delicately and places it on his waiting knee, repeating the process of taking off your shoe and sock before he ties the laces together and stores them away in his pack. Before he sets your foot back onto the sand, San’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous.

He leans forward and drags his fingers across the skin of your calf, eyes crinkling as he smiles. You look back down at him with your stomach fluttering pleasantly, watching as San leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your calf. 

Oh. 

His lips skate over the muscle and his hand rests where your thigh connects with the knee. You feel your breathing still. Air catches in your lungs, and some burst of emotion lurches into your throat as you stop and stare down at the healer with one widened eye. You can feel the smile on San’s soft lips as he drags his mouth from your calf to your knee, kissing your skin sweetly as he goes. He drifts over scars both fresh and faded, but does not stop moving as he ascends up your calf. San leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, your skin practically shivering under his touch and lighting ablaze when he pulls away.

Oh. 

You stare open-mouthed at the healer when San finally slides a hand down your leg and deposits it onto the sand. You lick your lips once, trying desperately to come up with words to say, but there’s nothing. Just the trail of blazing heat San left behind and a roaring fire beginning to spread inside your chest. You can practically feel the heat in your face, and you lift a hand to palm at your cheek as San watches with a teasing grin. Your figure practically vibrates as you shiver through the emotion bursting through you. 

“San…” 

Said healer mimics your shiver as you whisper his name, fingers dancing along your calf before he stops. He presses one final kiss to your knee, at the crease of the joint, and this time your eye slides shut with a shiver. The plush feeling of his lips against your skin is ambrosia for your soul and the barest touch of moisture is left behind when he finally pulls away. 

He looks up at you with honey in his irises, hand skating down your calf once more and smiles. 

“C’mon, Bug. We’ve got places to be,” he teases, saccharine timber never failing to make you melt. 

As if he wasn’t the one distracting you. 

Finally, you’re able to squeeze his shoulder thankfully and San beams up at you in the way that makes those sweet little dimples poke out of his cheeks. You nearly lean forward to caress a finger of the indents that make your heart mushy, but still as the cool sand sinks between your toes. 

It’s… soft. 

The sand melts beneath your soles like butter, cradling your heels and caressing your skin like silk. You wiggle your toes and awe at the feeling, watching the sand shift and move with your lips just barely parted in wonder. San watches from your feet, his gentle eyes roaming over your partly-concealed face and grinning at the expression plastered across your features. Your lips are parted, but just barely, taking deep breaths to inhale the fresh air of the sea breeze and one eye dilated with awe. San's heart thumps vibrantly beneath his ribs, a song of your name. It calls out to you sweetly, and San swears that when he runs his hand across the bare skin of your leg, brushing over scars and broken skin, he can hear your heart call his name in return. 

Your one eye darts upwards to meet your Captain’s gaze. 

Hongjoong stares at you with some ineffable softness in his expression. He reaches a hand out to grasp your fingers, helping you step forward away from San. The healer stands from his kneeling position, his own footwear now missing, and joins you at your side. 

“You like it?” Hongjoong whispers as you near. 

The vigorous nod of your head is almost comical, and Hongjoong chuckles beneath his breath. Yes. Yes you like it. 

San beams at your side, unable to stop the mirthful sound of his laughter. It erupts from his chest in that giggling way that you adore. You tilt your head to look at him, your chest swelling and heart thumping with the tumultuous feelings surging within you. San reaches out to run a hand down your arm and you lean close offering a single line of ‘thanks’ across his palm. 

Yunho leans forward and pecks a kiss across your forehead, directly over the mask concealing the right half of your face and then turns to walk after Wooyoung and Mingi, San at his heels. He doesn’t acknowledge the kiss, but your heart jumps into your throat regardless. Your fingers itch to follow him, twitching in an attempt to reach for him, but you turn back to your Captain instead. 

Hongjoong is still looking at you, that ineffable softness still radiating from him. “C’mon, angel. Let’s go see the ocean.” 

You’ve never been more excited. 

Hongjoong begins pulling you in the direction the others have disappeared in, following them over the dunes of sand. At first, he pulls your awestruck figure behind him as you make your way through the deeping sand, turning back to watch you marvel at the grains of white and cream colored grains. Your feet drag, slowing the two of you down as you continue to look down at the sand beneath you. At one point, you can’t resist the temptation and you stop, carefully pulling your hand from Hongjoong’s to bend at the knees and drop into the sand. 

“Woah, angel!” Hongjoong gasps as you let go of his hand and urgently drop into the earth below. “Careful!” 

Dragging your fingers through the silky material, you watch the tiny pieces of sediment cascade back into the hills beneath you as they trail between your fingers. The sand is cool to the touch and gentle as it scratches against your skin. You thought it would be rough, but it’s not. Not this sand anyway. 

Seonghwa chuckles behind you, stopping to drop his hands beneath your shoulders and gently lift you back up to your feet. The others are little specks in the distance, just a few hundred yards away. The eldest carefully sets you on your feet and slides a hand down to intertwine with your own. 

“C'mon, lovebug. We haven’t even reached the good part yet.” 

The good part? You wonder. How could it possibly get any better than this? 

But as the crashing sound gets louder with each step you take and the smell of salt continues to grow stronger, you begin to realize what the good part is. 

Soon after, it becomes you dragging Hongjoong and Seonghwa through the sand dunes. Eagerly tugging them behind you as you race towards the others, you sink into the sand and stumble a few times, only catching yourself when either member scrambles to grab your waist. You push quicker through the deepening sand each time you right yourself, racing through the dunes until you finally see it. 

The sea. 

And you stop moving. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly crash into your back as you freeze, body halting at the top of the sand dune. Your one eye is transfixed on the view before you, mouth parted and body slack with awe. 

Waves are crashing along the shore, breaking into foamy surf as they collide with the cream-colored sand. There are little birds with thin, long legs dancing in the shoreline, pecking at things in the packed sand. You watch with fascination as they rush away in a flock from an oncoming wave. When the foam finally settles, they return to their feeding grounds, continuing to peck away at something beneath the darker sand. The smell of salt fills your senses and there’s a brush of water against your skin as a breeze carries a mist of salt onto the shoreline. 

You’ve never seen so much… color before. 

The ocean is blue. Green too, and teal and dark and bright, and every color in the range you can possibly think of. It’s aquamarine in the peaks of crashing waves and a darker cyan in the deepness of the salty water. There’s pale blue, creamy skies and even paler cream-colored clouds. You nearly wish you could reach out and touch one. 

It’s wonderful. And it’s so much more than you think you deserve. 

With awe on your features and mouth slightly parted, you stare mystified at the sea before you. Hongjoong steps up beside you, the others starting to circle back to stand nearby. They just stand there… watching you for a minute. 

They watch your one pupil dilate and your expression softens into wonderous glee. Their hands intertwine with each other, fingers squeezing one another and hearts thumping happily in their chests. There’s pride there, and affection too, roaring madly beneath their skin and calling out to the sea with a throaty, triumphant call. 

You like it. You like the sea. 

And they like you. 

Hongjoong slides a hand down your arm until he can gently link your scarred fingers with his own. Your attention briefly shifts away from the sea to look over at your captain. 

His soft brown hair rustles as the sea breeze flutters through the strands, and Hongjoong smiles. Eyes scrunching into a beaming grin, the one that you like so much, he offers a squeeze of your palm. The scar crossing his one eye moves with his expression and you adore the way it looks when he smiles. Chocolate brown irises flicker in the brightness of the sunlight and for a moment, you think you much prefer the color of his eyes than the enchanting blue-green of the sea. 

But it’s tough competition, of course. 

Hongjoong squeezes your hand once more, fully drawing your attention back to him, and he leans close to carefully grasp the side of your face. His palm gently cups your mask, stroking his thumb over the tough material with a delicateness you cannot fathom deserving. But he touches you regardless, even if it's the mask instead of your skin. Hongjoong doesn’t care that you continue to wear it. None of them do. It’s a part of you, and they’ll continue to care for you all the same. 

“Are you happy?” The Captain inquires, licking his lips as he watches you. 

The vigor in your nod nearly makes him laugh. His beaming grin only seems to widen and you find yourself stunned at how beautiful he looks happy. 

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy, angel.” 

You want to ask something else. Something about why your little clan has ventured this far or perhaps something else, but you can’t begin to find the words for it. 

You don’t need to though. 

Hongjoong leans closer, his warm, umber eyes scanning your features as he whispers something only for you to hear. 

“Happy birthday, Bug.” 

You barely register the sentiment before your captain leans forward and gently presses his lips to the crown of your head. 

You don’t breathe. Too frightened that any movement will force him to pull away, you stay remarkably still and stare numbly into Hongjoong’s chest. 

His lips linger for a long moment against your hairline, and you feel the warmth of his exhale against your scalp. The feeling makes your stomach flutter pleasantly and suddenly your body feels like you’re going to vibrate out of sheer enjoyment. Another shiver tickles its way up your spine and you finally exhale shakily. Reaching a hand upwards, you clutch onto the hand Hongjoong has still cupping your cheek. 

Her heart finally throbs with a dull ache. 

Your birthday? 

You didn’t even think… 

Hongjoong exhales softly and bends to drop a second kiss onto your mask, just above where your right eye would be. It throbs suddenly, but not so painfully this time. 

Your birthday. 

They came all this way for you? 

All of this… leaving the camp, walking all this way, spending nights on the road, showing you the sea for the first time… they did this to celebrate your birthday? 

Your heart hurts. 

No one has ever done that for you before. 

You suppose Yunho and Daia tried once… but that didn’t end so well. Salt wells behind your one eye and your lip twitches just once, but it's enough for Hongjoong to catch. Your chest aches with the memory of your mother. It’s a hurt you could never quite soothe. 

The Captain’s smile is still bright when he pulls away but there’s a sadness beneath the joy. No, not sadness, you suppose. Something empathetic – something… bittersweet. 

Hongjoong knows. They all do. 

“My birthday?” Your mouth parts to let out the croaked sound. Your voice has gotten better. The deeper, rough tone of your voice has begun to fade after finally learning to use it again. It’s beginning to return to what it used to be – slow and steadily. 

From behind you, Yeosang hums deeply. You recognize the sound without turning to look at him. His voice always carries that undertone of sweet and smooth honey, and you can’t find any other way to describe it. 

“Yeah, honey. You told me you’ve never seen the sea, right? We thought it would make a good birthday present.” 

The healer is standing behind Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung at his sides and the rest of Ateez just beyond. They’re all here. For you. 

You shift on your feet, barely able to restrain the wetness of your one eye as you attempt to face them. Your heart still throbs, but it’s more of a pleasant ache – a good one. A sea breeze rustles your hair. Three silver rings click against your mask; a comforting sound that reminds you of home – of Yunho. The scent of salt in the air fills you with warmth and the silky sand beneath your feet cradles you in the earth’s gentle hands. The world itself seems to wrap around you in its kindness, delicately embracing you as if asking for forgiveness. 

It feels like your mother – like the hugs you can barely remember. 

The burn of tears returns tenfold. 

You’ve never celebrated your birthday before. It was never a day others regarded with joy, so you supposed it was only fair to see it the same way. You don’t even really know what day you were born. Father never told you – he never told anyone. 

But… perhaps this day – the day Ateez has chosen for you – can be your birthday. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore. 

“We wanted to show you something new. Something good. Do you like it?” Wooyoung whispers as you process your feelings. His voice is apprehensive, as if he isn’t quite sure how you’ll respond to celebrating your birthday. You can barely hear him over the roaring sound of waves colliding with the shoreline and birds peeping in the surf. 

You’re already throwing yourself into Wooyoung’s arms before a moment of silence can pass. You crash into his chest with a crooned sound, a desperate cry of joy. 

“Yes!” You finally croak, the word sounding more like a sob than an agreement. “Yes, I like it!”

Wooyoung laughs happily as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a joyful sound. His chest vibrates with his laughter and you love the way it feels against your body. One of your hands slides out from between you and you urgently grasp ahold of Yeosang’s shirt and tug him into your pile with a quick movement. San follows soon after, lured in by Wooyoung’s touch and suddenly you’re buried beneath a mountain of Ateez’s warmth. 

Another wet sob leaves your lips, but it’s much closer to a laugh this time. 

“I love it…” 

And we love you. 

He doesn’t say it aloud, but Wooyoung hopes you hear it anyway. 

Seonghwa lets out a hearty laugh despite it sounding wet with his own tears, and he wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders as he tugs his captain close. The leader’s eyes are watery as he and the archer pile into your embrace. Mingi and Yunho follow quickly after, with the tallest of the two reaching out to snag Jongho’s tunic. The youngest is already moving, sliding beneath Yeosang’s arm to nuzzle into the healer’s side. One of his hands nestles between his lover’s ribs, resting atop your bicep. You push closer into their hands, warm and happy and still softly crying. 

You love it. 

It cannot possibly get any better than this. Not even the comforting breeze of the ocean air brushing over your skin nor the warmth of any roaring campfire could rival this feeling. There’s no warmth in the world that can surmount the heat of Ateez embracing you. Their hands carefully sweeping over skin leaves trails of pleasant heat in their wake, and the throb of your aching heart is only soothed by a soft coo leaving San’s lips. Wooyoung slides a hand over your head, pulling you closer into his neck, and you feel a bigger hand – Yunho’s, you know – scratch gently over your scalp. Another settles onto your hip, rubbing gentle circles into the bone. They’re Seonghwa’s, you recognize the calluses on his two fingers when they brush over the skin of your bare hip. Mingi’s hand settles across your back, resting between your shoulder blades. His firm touch and big hands are easy to decipher. Jongho’s wrap around your arm, strong and steadfast, just like you know him to be. Your captain’s smaller hand finds your fingers, sliding between them as you grip onto San with a fierce grip. 

Hongjoong’s hands tremble when he twists his grip to drag a line down your left ring finger. His gaze finds yours, a watery smile on his lips when your mouth parts in shock and your one eye dilated beyond comprehension. The Captain finishes drawing the line at the tip of your nail, where each of his fingers meets the end of each of yours. Then Hongjoong slides his hand into yours and squeezes three times. 

Yunho must have taught him that one. 

Because no one else has ever uttered those words to you – least of all meant them. 

Your grip tightens fervently, pulling until you can press Hongjoong’s hand into your chest and let him feel the racing pulse of your heart. It slams into your ribs with a thunderous pace, beating in a pattern you hope he can discern. You pull your head from Wooyoung’s neck just slightly. Just enough to lean down and press your lips to Hongjoong’s fingers. 

You hope he knows what it means. 

He does. 

“Happy birthday, tiny,” Yunho murmurs into the shared space between the nine of you. “We’re so happy you’re here.” 

You weep. 

Ateez spends three nights and four days at the beach. 

On the first, you don’t have the courage to venture too far into the shore. The roaring of waves crashing onto the sand is intimidating when you don’t know how to swim. You settle for watching the others splash and wrestle in the shallow sea. Their shouts of glee are enough joy to warm your heart. 

You watch Mingi grapple with Hongjoong on the shoreline, huffing softly with a grin when Mingi inevitably gets the upper hand. The guard lifts Hongjoong over his shoulder and laughs deeply as he storms his way towards the sea. 

“Put me down!” Hongjoong roars, smacking his hand against Mingi’s back. “Mingi!” 

The guard only laughs and spins the two of them in the shallows as he wades deeper into the waves. 

“Don’t you dare!” 

You watch as Mingi laughs brightly once more, calling out a “too late!” as he unceremoniously dumps his captain into the sea.  

Hongjoong dunks beneath the water with a roar, and for a moment you worry he won’t emerge again. He does, however, and lurches from the waves with an undignified shout and lunges towards Mingi as he laughs. 

“Get back here!” 

You grin and watch the two continue to wrestle in the waves. 

Jongho takes you onto the nearby rocks and shows you the wonders of tide pools. He and Yeosang spent years living by the sea, and he murmurs hundreds of little facts about each of the animals he can find. Crouching down by a shallow pool, Jongho reaches into the cool water and ever so carefully lifts a sea star from the water. He cradles it delicately, leaving it half submerged as he pulls you closer with his other hand. 

“This is a sea star,” he whispers, looking up at you and gesturing for you to crouch beside him. “You want to feel? You won’t hurt it.” 

 When you crouch at his side, Jongho pulls your hand towards him with a smile. Bent at the knees, you lean into his side and watch with a bated breath and marvel at the texture of the sea star still carefully held in Jongho’s hands. It’s soft and squishy beneath your delicate touch and you huff a smile as you watch with a mystified expression. 

You watch some of the tiny feet of the sea star wiggle in Jongho’s hand and whip your head over to face him with a question on your lips. 

Jongho is already looking at you, watching you instead of the sea star in his hands. He’s smiling, softly and sweetly, his eyes fixed on your one eye. They drift from your left one to where your right would be if not hidden behind the mask, then he drops them to your lips. Your breath stutters and you swallow shyly before Jongho lifts his eyes back to your own. 

He smiles, as if nothing happened and continues, “See the poky creatures down here? The ones that look like they have needles? Those are urchins. The sea stars will eat those.” 

It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to pull your gaze away from Jongho’s face. 

At another tidal pool, Jongho points out a creature he calls an anemone. The vibrant teal and green color of its shape mystifies you and you lean closer to investigate it. Listening carefully to Jongho’s explanation of the anemone, you look back up at him with a question in your eyes. 

“Yeah, you can touch that one too. Be careful though.” 

You don’t understand his warning but carefully drop your hand into the pool to delicately caress the anemone anyway. The chill waters surround your skin and you lean closer to touch the creature, you let out a startled squeal when its sticky tentacles wrap themselves around your finger. Surprised, you lurch away from the pool, confusion in your face and hands braced on the rock beside you. 

Jongho laughs so hard you think he might choke. 

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows and an upset pout on your lips, a little disgruntled Jongho didn’t tell you that would happen. 

The youngest continues to laugh at the utter confusion in your expression, finally bracing himself against you and apologizing. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Bug. I couldn’t help myself!” 

You frown and push gently at his chest, posing a little miffed at Jongho’s teasing. The youngest snorts and pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“I won’t do it again, I promise,” he laughs. “We should wash your hands though, the stingers on those anemones can leave toxins on your skin. I don’t want you to touch your face without cleaning your hands first.”

You huff and nod, letting him lead you away from the rocks and towards the others. When you find San, you race away from Jongho and bury yourself into his chest with a pretend pout. The healer wraps you up in his embrace without question, turning to look at Jongho with a raised brow. Jongho rolls his eyes and laughs. 

Seonghwa and Wooyoung take you to collect shells in the afternoon. 

Your footprints linger in the sand behind you as you hold the archer’s hand and walk along the shoreline. The sand is packed beneath your feet closer to the shore and you find that there are all sorts of different shells just above the water line. 

You recognize some of the larger, smoother shells Yeosang and San use to store medicine sometimes. They’re scallop-shaped and hollow in the middle, and the healers like to use them for creams or other ointments. Seonghwa helps you carry some back to the healers who gratefully pile your collection into one of their packs. They can always use more shells in the medical cavern. 

Further down the beach, you find a plethora of smaller shells and drop down into the sand to rummage through them. There’s hundreds of them, some twisting into points and others round at the edges. Some are still split into pieces and others are still whole. Some are closed like a locket. Seonghwa tells you to leave those ones alone – there’s still creatures living in those ones. You gasp and carefully set the shell back down into the sand ever so delicately. The archer smiles fondly at your care for the earth and her creatures. 

One of the bigger shells that washes up on the shore catches your attention, and you rush over to the pristine, cream colored object. Yeosang called these conches. When you excitedly turn over the shell, you’re startled to find a spiny looking creature inside. A large claw grazes your hand and your heart lurches. 

You shout in surprise, jerking away from the shell with a gasp. 

“Bug?!” 

Seonghwa is at your side in an instant, hands on your back and pulling you away from the shell. “What happened?” 

 He doesn’t know why you shouted at first, too worried something has hurt you. His hands slide across your shoulders, turning you to face him and urgently scanning you for injuries. But when he looks down at the crab claw emerging from the shell, Seonghwa feels his chest shake with quiet laughter. Your head jerks back to look at the archer.

“It’s alright, darling. You just startled the crab living inside this one. He won’t hurt you, honey.”

Each shell you turn over for the rest of the day is done carefully and gently, and Seonghea feels his heart tug affectionately at how cute you look doing so. You nudge one with a stick to see if any claws come out and Seonghwa has to bury his smile in Wooyoung’s shoulder. 

“She’s so precious,” the warrior murmurs under his breath. 

Seonghwa hums in agreement, his head lifting from his partner’s shoulder to find you waving them over excitedly. 

“We’re coming, sweetheart!” 

Wooyoung settles at your side with a grin and looks down at the smooth stones in your hands. There’s a few rocks mixed in with the more ornate looking shells you’ve gathered, and Wooyoung tilts his head in an attempt to decipher why you’ve called them over. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

Seonghwa’s heart stutters at the beaming smile on your lips. You smile more and this is not the first he’s ever seen, but each time you look up at him with that grin on your face, Seonghwa feels his stomach flutter and pride swell from his gut. He almost bites down on his bottom lip to resist sending you back a grin of his own, but Seonghwa doesn’t. And he’s grateful he does, because the way your one eye crinkles with joy when he smiles down at you makes his cheeks burn and his skin tingle. 

“Look!” You urgently whisper, swallowing around the word to repress how sore your throat is. 

Directing his attention to the dark stones in your hands, Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion. 

“I don’t understand.” 

You lift the stone beside his face, pulling Wooyoung into your side as you do. The two of you face Seonghwa as the archer grows more confused. The dark brown, near ebony-colored stone is lifted just beside his temple and you watch with a marveled expression as you shift your gaze from the rock to his eyes. 

“What is it?” Seonghwa urges. 

Wooyoung grins, his teeth flashing as he laughs sweetly. His two-toned hair ruffles in the breeze and Wooyoung turns to face you, squeezing your hip as he slides an arm around you. 

“That’s a good find, Bug,” he murmurs, looking back up at Seonghwa with honey in his gaze. “The same shade as his eyes. It matches him perfectly.” 

You nearly vibrate with happiness, wiggling a little in Wooyoung’s arms as Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle. “Really?” 

You nod fervently, reaching for his hand and dropping the smooth stone into his hand and curling his fingers around it. Seonghwa holds the rock carefully, not looking away from your one eye as he lifts it to press into his heart. 

“Thank you, darling.” 

You smile again, just a little twitch of your lips and nod. Then you turn to Wooyoung and weasel your way out of his grip to hold another up for him. This stone is a similar shade as Seonghwa’s, but just different enough that Seonghwa can see where you’ve matched this one to the exact hue of Wooyoung’s umber irises. 

You hold it out to Wooyoung with a tilt of your head and Wooyoung has to resist the urge to lean forward and squish your cheeks. He’s rarely seen you so excited – so… at ease. It makes every muscle in his body eager with the urge to hold you close and squeeze you tight. 

“For me?”

You nod excitedly and Wooyoung accepts the stone with a skip of his pulse. “Thank you, baby.” 

He and Seonghwa exchange looks and Wooyoung slips the stone into his pocket, where he knows he’ll keep it safe. 

“Help me?” You whisper softly, gesturing to the plethora of stones and shells beneath you. “For the others.” 

“Of course.” 

The two help you find six more stones, one of each of the other members of Ateez. Each one is the exact shade of their eyes – colors you know by heart. 

Wooyoung cannot tell you that after the trip, the rest of the boys gather to look at the stones and shells you collected for them. He doesn’t tell you that Mingi finds some twine and they braid bands for each other, carefully depositing their gifts onto string and binding them to each other’s wrists. 

On the first night, the nine of you sleep around a bonfire. 

The crackling flames keep you warm from the evening’s cool breeze, but you don’t think you sleep at all. The excitement and pure glee from the day keeps you awake. Adrenaline still roars through your veins and you settle for watching the stars for a moment longer. You find the twinkling shape of Polaris easily, and whisper your thanks up at her, just like you do every night since Jongho pointed her out. 

She winks back. 

The fire continues to crackle and the smell of wood burning soothes your nerves. Eventually, you pull yourself from your bed roll, carefully maneuvering away from Yunho’s warm chest and wrap your blanket around your shoulders. Quietly, you make your way over to the massive piece of driftwood facing the shore. 

Then, you drop silently beside Mingi, who sits and watches the sea. It’s technically his watch, but the guard faces the ocean as if he cannot bring himself to look away. 

Mingi does not startle when you find your place at his side, only shifting slightly to allow you to get comfortable. As you settle, you scooch as close as you can towards Mingi’s broad chest. Your side presses into his as you rest your weight against him and Mingi smiles, still looking at the sea. He easily accommodates your weight and wraps an arm around your shoulder, covering both your forms with his blanket. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck and continue to watch the waves crash against the shore as the moon illuminates their peaks. 

You sit there for hours. Though you cannot sleep, excitement still pumping through your body, you find staying awake with Mingi is just as nice. Far more comforting, you’d even say. Mingi’s body heat keeps you pleasantly warm and his big arm stays wrapped around your waist. Soon after you settle, the guard drops his cheek onto your head and he breathes slow and deep. 

Even when Yeosang relieves him of his shift, taking over his place for watch, Mingi remains still. The two of you stay there until neither of you can keep your slowly fluttering lids open any longer. 

Yunho finds the two of you in the morning, and he kisses Mingi awake with a sweet grin and soft eyes. He brushes a hand through your hair and drops a kiss onto your head, eventually dropping onto your other side where he wraps an arm around both you and Mingi as the three of you watch the sunrise. 

The second day, you finally find the courage to venture into the waves with San and Yunho at your sides. Yeosang stands in the waves, waiting for you. 

San leads the way, walking backwards into the surf and holding both your hands. Yunho stands beside you, one of his arms reaching out to steady you and reassure you that he’s still there. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he winks at you. The honey-haired healer grew up in the sea. You know that if anything goes wrong, Yeosang will know what to do. 

“Let’s go, tiny. You’ve got this,” Yunho encourages, softly nudging you forward as you apprehensively toe the water line. 

You can’t swim. And you’ve never ventured into the sea before. 

It’s a little daunting, but the dimples on San’s cheeks and the smile on his lips encourages you to keep walking. You clutch his hands with a vice grip and gasp as the cold, salty waves cascade over your toes. 

“Sorry, lovebug. It’s a little cold.”

San laughs as you throw him a withering look. That information would have been helpful before you stepped into the sea. Yeosang laughs at your side, rubbing a hand along your waist and watching you shiver at the warmth of his touch. 

No matter how many times they touch you, you cannot help the way it makes you feel. 

“A little further and we can stop,” San murmurs, squeezing your hand when you stumble in the sand and pulling you closer. “C’mon, baby.” 

A few steps further and you stand at Yeosang’s side, digging your toes into the plush sand beneath your feet and marveling at how the waves lap at your knees. It’s cold, but you don’t mind since it’s a reprieve from the midday sun. When you turn your back to the sea, a strong wave pushes you closer to San and he laughs when you stumble into his chest. Water splashes upwards, and you get your first taste of seawater. 

“Woah!” San laughs, steadying you by the waist and watching as you stick your tongue out with an indignant sound. He can’t help the way laughter bubbles from his chest. You look positively betrayed by the ocean, as if the taste of salt on your tongue personally offends you. 

Yunho and Yeosang dissolve into giggles behind San, leaning onto each other to support themselves. Your one eye narrows and you shoot them an angry look, but San thinks you look more like an angry, wet cat than anything scary. Of course, he would never tell you that.

“I’m sorry, Bug!” Yunho laughs. “You just look so funny!” 

San listens to you grumble something under your breath, something that sounds like ‘showing him something funny,’ and then you bend at the waist and splash a mountain of water in his direction. 

Yunho guffaws at the betrayal and San dissolves into his own laughter, bending at the waist and bracing a hand on his chest as he cackles. Your grin is positively menacing, Yeosang decides. He wonders if you’ll become as much of a brat as Wooyoung if this continues. 

Yunho, now drenched in salt water and wet hair dripping into his eyes, enacts revenge and lunges towards you. San, ever the sweetheart, throws himself in between you and Yunho and the two sink into the waves with smiles. 

Eventually, when your skin begins to wrinkle from the time you spend in the waves and the sun begins to set, Yeosang and you step away from the shore to settle against the same piece of driftwood that marks your temporary camp. Yeosang sits atop the log and you lay just below him on the sand. You lean against his leg, just watching the rest of the boys continue to dance and swim in the surf. The sound of their laughter makes your heart happy and their gleaming smiles leave a grin of your own on your lips. 

It’s nice – smiling again, you mean. It’s a gift from Ateez they have not realized they’ve given, but you take care to treasure it regardless. 

You wrap an arm around Yeosang’s tattooed calf, your fingers occasionally dragging along the pattern of thorns that descend from his thigh. They wind around his leg, ending at the bone of his ankle and you’ve seldom been able to keep your hands away from the obsidian ink since he showed you. This, of course, is much to Yeosang’s delight, and the honey-haired healer can barely resist the way he beams so brightly when your delicate hands skim across his tattoos again. He loves it when you touch him. 

Mingi and Seonghwa leave the shoreline after a few minutes. They step away from the water to stoke the bonfire at the center of your makeshift camp. The flickering amber hues dance along burning bark and release a pleasant aroma onto the beach. You inhale deeply and lean further into Yeosang, humming happily when one of his hands reaches out to scratch along your scalp. 

Head scratches have become one of your weaknesses, you suppose. All it takes is for one of them to run their nails along your head and you’ll sink into their embrace with a happy sigh and mushy bones. 

When Mingi is satisfied with the roar of the campfire, he and Seonghwa press kisses to Yeosang’s hair and brush fingers over your hairline as they pace back towards the shore. 

A harmonious shout of glee leaves San’s lips as Jongho tackles him into the shallow surf, and there’s an uproar of laughter from amongst the boys. San shouts something along the lines of being cold and twists in the waves in an attempt to pin Jongho beneath him. Jongho, easily the strongest of the nine of you, maintains his place above San but spits salt water out of his mouth in surprise when his partner douses him with a splash. In revenge, Jongho prepares to dunk San’s head beneath the water, only to be tackled into the sea by Yunho. The youngest lets out a squawk of surprise as he sinks into the water and the laughter begins again. 

You turn your head towards Yeosang, resting your cheek against his knee and looking up at him with your one eye. You nudge him gently with your knuckles, drawing his attention to you. 

“Are you going to join them?” 

The honey-haired healer barely catches your question over the cacophony in the surf, but he smiles at the sound of your voice. He slides a hand deeper into your hair and scratches against the nape of your neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eye flutters shut briefly. 

His eyes, chocolate brown and gleaming with the flicker of flames before you, are warm and strong. They look down at you like you’re the only thing he sees – the only thing he wants to see. 

It’s familiar. This moment is too. 

Shivering gently from the weight of his gaze and bones feeling mushy and warm, you look up at Yeosang and wait patiently for his answer. 

“No, not yet,” he whispers in return, expression soft and eyes tender. “I’m very happy where I am right now.” 

You inhale deeply through your nose, recalling when he spoke the same words so long ago. The exhale that shudders through your lungs is accompanied by the sound of Yeosang’s deep, honey-sweet voice. 

“I‘m happy here with you.” 

He finally has the courage to say it. 

You look away from Yeosang so he doesn’t see the water welling in your lone eye. The stroke of thanks you brush across his skin is enough to let him know what you mean. The swell of electricity zinging beneath your skin leaves you breathless and you lean into Yeosang’s legs to combat the shift in emotion. 

The healer hums sweetly in response, unable to look away from you. He examines you as you watch his partners, lifting his head when another uproar of laughter erupts when Hongjoong overpowers Wooyoung in whatever game they’re playing in the waves. 

But when you glance back at Yeosang shyly, you see it. 

You see the way he looks at you now. 

With stars in his gaze and affection glimmering in the shine of his irises, you see the way Yeosang’s features melt so sweetly as he watches you. He looks at you the way he looks at them; like he’s staring at his very heart and soul – like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather gaze upon than your face warmed by the flicker of roaring flames and your one eye finally staring back into his. No apprehension, this time. No fear or confusion or worry or an amalgamation of all of them together. You just… look back at him. 

Just like how he looks at you. 

When Seonghwa and Mingi rejoin the parade, kicking up salt water and spinning through the shallows, the boys cheer gleefully and begin to dance. It’s chaotic and a mess of stumbling and laughter, but it’s dancing nonetheless. The sound of their joy is infectious and spreads along the beach until it reaches you and Yeosang.

But he’s not listening to them. He’s listening to you. His ears are trained on the sound that erupts from his feet, bubbling from your lips in a noise he’s been praying to hear. 

Laughter. 

You’re laughing. 

There’s this bright, heart-stopping smile spread across your lips as you look up at Yeosang and listen to your family dance on the beach. Your shoulders shake softly with the movement of your laughter, and Yeosang can feel the vibrations of your chest pressed against his leg. It starts as a muffled giggle, barely concealed by your smile, but it deepens into a hearty laugh from deep in your belly. 

He cannot tear his eyes from you. 

You laugh. 

You laugh and you look up at him with stars in your eyes and his heart in your hands, and it takes every fiber of his strength not to lean forward and drown himself in the taste of your lips. It’s all he wants – all he needs, he swears it. One taste of your lips would sate him for life, even though he knows he’d never be able to tear himself away again. 

When you lean upwards, grabbing ahold of his fingers and pulling them towards you, Yeosang’s mouth parts to suck in a breath. 

You kiss his fingers. 

By the Gods, maybe that was a lie. One kiss would never be enough to sate him – there would never be enough of your touch or your kisses that could ever appease his soul. Even if he were immortal and your paths intertwined until the last of the stars burned from the sky, not even then would he have enough of you. 

You laugh again, grinning up at Yeosang with a toothy smile and the corner of your mouth digging into your mask. If he wasn’t already sitting, he swears he would drop to his knees at your side. 

He loves it – the sounds of your laughter. No matter how raw or croaked the sound is, he adores it. The sound of your voice once made his heart race with glee, but this… This is different. 

It’s so much more. 

This is joy. Unbridled and unashamed and so clearly you. It’s your laughter, your glee, your happiness that sinks beneath his sin and lights his nerves on fire. It’s your smile and your giggles that make his heart swell. Yeosang adores it. He adores you. 

He cannot help the way he slides off the driftwood log and into the sand at your side. Yeosang is pulling you into his chest before you can question his actions. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls your head into his neck, pressing you as tight to his chest as he possibly can. 

“You’re laughing…” he whispers as he huffs in disbelief. “Bug! You’re laughing!” 

The second time Yeosang utters the phrase, it’s shouted cheerfully as he squeezes you tight into his chest. His heart thumps brazenly beneath his ribs, and he can feel the pulse of yours against his own. You giggle again, wiggling to readjust yourself as you sink into the honey of his embrace. Yeosang’s heart trills excitedly again. 

Yunho’s head darts upwards from the beach, startled by Yeosang’s call. 

“What?” 

San hears Yunho’s whispered disbelief and stands from the surf, attention drawn over towards you and Yeosang. “What did he just say?” 

“It’s Bug,” Hongjoong answers, standing behind Yunho with his eyes blown wide. His heart stutters once in his chest as he takes in the sight of your shoulders shaking gently with your giggles. He can’t hear the sound of them, but Gods does he wish he could. “Bug’s laughing.” 

“Holy shit…” 

Yunho takes off from the beach without another word. He doesn’t even hear who curses.

Sand kicks up from his feet as he sprints towards you and Yeosang with his heart in his throat and a watery grin on his lips. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that San is the one on his heels. Yunho knows the sound of San’s muffled sobs just as well as he knows the beat of his heart. Wooyoung is not far behind, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips and a chain missing from his wrist. Nothing binds him to that place anymore. You set him free. 

Hongjoong and Mingi chase after the others, and the Captain manages to get some revenge for the day before as he shoves his guard into the surf on the way. Hongjoong’s mirthful chuckles as Mingi shouts are heard when Jongho pulls Seonghwa behind him, urging the archer to move faster. 

“Bug!” 

Your head pulls from Yeosang’s neck, that toothy grin still on your face just as Yunho collides with you and the honey-haired healer. The two of you sway as Yunho’s weight sinks into your figures, but Yeosang sets an arm down into the sand to support you. The black and white strands of San and Wooyoung’s hair drip with salt water as they throw themselves onto Yunho’s lap with a shout. Mingi follows just after, likely having passed Hongjoong on the beach with the length of his strides. He shakes his wet hair as he clings onto Yunho’s back and Wooyoung complains despite the fact that he’s already soaking wet. The giggly sound of Mingi’s laughter makes you chuckle again.

You laugh, as if it’s as easy as breathing. 

Yeosang watches, his eyes welling with happy tears as he continues to cling onto you with one hand. He watches you giggle and the others pile into your space and listens to his new favorite sound. 

Gods, he adores you. He adores them – this family. 

Yunho is crying, his lip wobbling as he buries his head into your hair. He’s at your back, chest shaking with the sound of his watery sobs. 

“Tiny…” he cries, but it’s a happy weep. You reach around to cling onto one of his hands. Yunho squeezes you tight, stealing the air right from your lungs, but you don’t need it. You would happily breathe in the pure euphoria of this moment instead. “Tiny, you’re laughing.” 

San buries his wet hair into your lap with a joyful sound and the giggles commence again. The healer’s heart throbs so strongly but so pleasantly he thinks it will burst. You have a laugh that makes others laugh with you. Just like Wooyoung, he realizes. 

Your other hand drops from Yeosang’s back to brush through San’s hair once and the healer looks up at you with glimmering half-moon eyes and a dimple poking out of his cheek. You allow your finger to poke the sweet little spot this time. His cheek muscles ache from how big his smile is. San nuzzles closer to your stomach and you let yourself shiver pleasantly, far too happy to deny yourself the joy of this moment. 

You’re pretty, San thinks to himself. So pretty. Especially when you laugh. 

Wooyoung melts into Hongjoong’s side and the Captain wraps an arm around his shoulder. They stand just behind Yunho, burying their happy tears into each other as Seonghwa pulls them close. Mingi and Jongho sink into the sand behind Yunho and pull each other tight. The taller guard squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into Jongho’s forehead, desperately hoping all his adoration is conveyed through the kiss. Jongho reaches out to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder and rests his weight against his elder’s back. 

“I know,” you finally whisper into the space that separates you and Yunho. “I’m happy.” 

One hand lifts to pull the mask away from your face. Without a moment’s hesitation, your nimble fingers detangle the knot from behind you, and you drop the obsidian mask into the sand. A hand wraps around your fingers when you finally let it go. Someone draws a line along the length of your left ring finger and twines their fingers with your own. They squeeze three times. 

You repeat the gesture, tracing a finger down the fourth finger on their left hand, right over the thin, dark band you know is tattooed there. You squeeze their hand three times. This sign needs no translation. 

You open both eyes. 

“I’m so happy.” 

bonus:

stranger: so who would you choose; ateez or–

reader: ateez.

stranger: you didn't even let me finish, ateez or–

reader, not missing a beat: ateez. I choose ateez.

a/n: This currently takes place sometime after the main storyline (probably xD) so it accounts for the boys knowing parts of Bug’s past (not revealed but it’s mentioned they know). For now, I won't consider these oneshots canon simply because I won’t know where it fits in the timeline HAHA xD this is essentially just a little bit of fluffy comfort for those who have been missing Bug and the boys! I’m catching up on their story but I hope you enjoy this filler for now <33 ALSO disclaimer, don’t pick stuff out of tide pools! my marine biologist family is screaming at me for including that xD just leave the creatures alone in their habitats!

sorry if bug seems a little ooc here! Loren and I have decided that bug goes from black cat energy to golden retriever after enough time with atz :’))) This is supposed to take place sometime in the future where she’s healed a little more and is a little more curious and open. There are a lot of references to things that have yet to happen in ltm so this is kind of a teaser for those xD 

also shoutout to the loml @eightmakesonebraincell for the majority of the ideas in this :D she's a real one xD

taglist: *If you don't see your name on this taglist, you may have been removed if your tag doesn't work :( let me know if you don't see your name and I'll try to see what we can do to fix it :D

@verseoks @smallfrye @istgcyj @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @chittaphonstar @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @ddeonghwva @sophxom @khjcoo @sunukissed @becauseiloveyunho @atinymonbebestay @goldenstarmermaid @simplyaghostsworld @multifandomizer @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @revehosh @mysticfire0435 @side-angel @taestrwbrry @billboard-singer @jenseok17 @parkthothwa8 @jcngh0-hq @dream-in-progress @dees-writing-corner @frankenstein852 @darkdayelixer @ateezkeepmysoul @maruskz @ahhhhhhhhhghh @honeyhotteoks @simeonswhore @jxxngieteez

#ateez x reader #like the moon #poly!ateez x reader #poly ateez #ot8 x reader #ateez au #ateez x oc #poly ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x female reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #mingi x reader #choi san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #woosan x reader

[bluebellhairpin]

Tamed.

Kenny Ackerman X Reader

Summary: Working as a bartender you meet a lot of different people. Kenny Ackerman just happens to be one of your regulars. Maybe a friend. Perhaps more.

Warnings: Swearing. Kinda Perv Kenny (but he's a good Uncle so it cancels out ig). Canon Character Death. Reader; drinks alcohol, is called 'sweetheart', refers to themselves as ' the mothering type', otherwise is g/n.

Listening to: 'More Than a Feeling' by Boston - "So many people have come and gone. Their faces fade as the years go by yet I still recall as I wander on, as clear as the sun in the summer sky - it's more than a feeling."

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Slice of Life Collab

You’d been working at The Lake for two years. They would’ve been quite a pleasant two years working the local watering hole, if not for your own personal demon leering over your shoulder most nights. 

Kenny Ackerman. 

It wasn’t that he was an awful guy. His more sleazy words and looks were only ever that, words and looks. He dared never lay such sleazy hands on anyone - which was half the reason he had never been kicked out. It was mostly due to his endearing quality of how quick he was to throw hands with other patrons - the rowdy ones who deserved to be thrown out to begin with - and he almost loved doing the honours of telling people not to come back too much. 

Either way, he was more annoying than anything else. Plain old annoying. 

Kenny was so closed off that - even after two years of shifts that ended at 1AM where you stumbled out from exhaustion after closing, and he stumbled out beside you from one too many beers - you couldn’t even say you knew his favourite colour. But… 

You did know he rode a Harley Davidson which roared into the parking lot almost every night you worked. He’d tempted you with a ride home on it multiple times, and you’d yet to agree - and as much as you itched to take him up on the offer, the unspoken cat and mouse game you’d started wasn’t going to be ended by you. 

You knew he had a tattoo that stretched over the back of his shoulders - thanks to a New Year's bet that he wouldn’t completely strip and jump off the jetty into the lake (the one the bar was named after). He won over a hundred dollars that night, and promptly shouted everyone their next drink. The tattoo read ‘Ripper’ in big gothic block letters. Not that you remembered on purpose - anyone would remember a tattoo like that, you told yourself. 

You knew he had a sister - he didn’t talk about her much, but he brought a woman in with him once and told you “not to worry your pretty head” about it. She was a pretty little thing, with dark hair and eyes that matched his. She had a manner to her that spoke of a kind soul with thick skin. You liked her, but you’d yet to see her again. 

And you knew he was one of the only patrons of The Lake who could pull off a greasy mullet. Or sing Redgum karaoke while barely being able to stand and still make it sound good. Hell, that somehow made it sound more real, the guy had you almost pouring a martini through tears. 

You had guessed that tonight would be just like any other. 

It wasn’t. 

Thursday’s were about as uninhabited as The Lake got. On a night so humid, and with no reason to get out of the house, no one was around. A storm was smelt in the air, one evening spent at home wasn’t a worry for anyone, if only to save themselves from being caught in the rain. 

Hearing Kenny’s bike rumble into his usual spot was no difficult feat on a night so quiet. You’d just finished fishing out a new box of beer bottles for a fridge behind the bar that was lacking when he walked in. What had you stopping mid-step with your mouth open wide enough to catch flies was who he had with him. 

“Whose fucking kid is that Kenny?” 

Nothing but the sound of The Rolling Stones answered your question. “I could not foresee this thing happening to you.” The jukebox sang. 

Yet the state of the child whose bicep was in a vice grip between Kenny’s fingers only raised even more questions. His face wall sunken in, and eyes blown wide as if taking in the world for the first time. He looked awful. 

Kenny walked over to the bar, dragging the poor boy beside him and pulling him up onto a bar stool before sliding onto one himself. You sat the box down on the floor, looking at Kenny expectantly.

“What food you got?” 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” Kenny looked down at the boy, pointing vaguely. 

“Hasn't eaten in,” they both shared a quiet look, “A while.” 

“M’kay.” You ducked into the back room, telling your chef/manager/accountant/boss that an actual meal was needed tonight, then returned with a pre-made peanut bowl. You slid it down in front of the kid, turning again behind the bar to make up a glass of water and passing it to him also. 

Then you turned to Kenny. 

“I know you don’t like telling people stuff, but for that kid’s sake I’m gonna have to ask you what you’re doing with him.” You said, eyeing the boy as he plunged his hand into the bowl of peanuts. “You don’t really give off ‘dad’ vibes, deadbeat or otherwise, and I really hope you didn’t kidnap him.” He just scoffed. 

“Can I get a whiskey.” he said, looking up at you, “Or are you just good for not minding your business and looking pretty?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not doing bad guy shit. I can let the lewd comments slide, but if you’re doing stuff with a kid you’re not supposed to I’m gonna call the cops.” you said, “No need to be rude about it.” 

You turned to grab the top shelf whiskey as he lifted a hand to push back his hair. He sighed deeply and hunched over as you placed a glass in front of him. 

“He’s my sister’s.” Kenny admitted quietly. “She’s… Died. I’ve got him for tonight. At least.” His words sent a cold but quick shock down your spine. “One step better than government housing or wherever.” You recovered quickly even though his openness had left you grasping at straws for what to say next. It wasn’t like him to give away so much information. 

“I’m sorry.” you’d said, resting your hands on your workbench, then after a few long moments added, “What’s his name?” 

“Levi.” 

The boy lifted his eyes at the sound of his name, but otherwise didn’t move from his now highly converted bowl of nuts. From the way his hands cradled the bowl, it didn’t look like he’d be sharing them anytime soon. You looked at him, properly, and saw nothing but how sad he must be feeling. 

You didn’t know Kenny well, but you knew him. Enough to know that he was not someone friendly enough for some kid who just lost his mum - whether he was their uncle or not. But could you do about it? You weren’t exactly the mothering type either. 

Thunder cracked in the not-too-far distance as you poured the boy another glass of water.

You hadn’t seen Kenny for a week. 

That was unusual mostly because the longest he’d gone without frequenting your bar was about three days. If you’d known his address, you would’ve visited just to make sure he hadn’t died while looking after his nephew. 

When he finally showed up, you almost didn’t notice him. If it wasn’t for him tapping the bar - a way of asking for a whiskey on the rocks that only he used - he would’ve completely flown under your radar on that busy Saturday night. 

“And where’ve you been?” you’d asked during a moment's calm while the other bartender poured drinks. 

He looked up at you, slighting his hat up with a pointed finger so he could meet your eyes. He had been so quiet - and he looked so tired. It was no wonder you barely noticed him when he was so out of character. 

“What, missed me didcha?” But the snark didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

“At home.” he mumbled into his glass, tipping it up and drinking half in one go. When he met your eyes again you raised an eyebrow. “Not alone - I’m not that stupid sweetheart.” 

“I’m five minutes from the end of my shift. Buy me a drink.” 

“No thanks.” He scoffed at you. 

“That wasn’t a question.” You said, starting to turn away, “Kahlua with vodka, thanks.” 

Going back to work, you kept an eye on him. Watching as he downed the rest of his drink in (again) one go. He got the attention of the other bartender, ordering another whiskey, and a kahlua with vodka. 

When you returned to the front of the bar after ditching your apron, you found Kenny sitting with his back towards you at a table near a window, with both drinks before him. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me asking for a drink.” you said, patting his shoulder as you came around to sit at the seat across. He smiled a little - but it was nothing like the wide wolfish grins you normally saw. 

“You weren’t askin’, remember?” 

“You didn’t have to listen.” you said, sipping on your drink and taking a proper moment to look him over. “You look horrible by the way.” 

“Jesus, thanks sweetheart.” he said into his glass - but took a much smaller mouthful of his drink compared to before, “You know how to make an old man’s night.” 

“The kid’s been putting you through the ringer, huh?” His eyes met yours and you saw his shoulders slump - barely. 

“That obvious?” he asked. When you nodded he sighed, slumping back in his seat with his hands ruling over his face and into his hair under his hat - his gangly legs stretched so far under the table that they slid between yours. “He’s a downright brat. It’s ridiculous. Karma has it out for me, I can see it now.” 

“It surely isn’t that bad, you might just need to get used to it - it’s barely been a week -” 

“I found him standing behind me in the kitchen holding a bread knife.” Kenny said, leaning forward on his elbows to whisper. “I think he wants to kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t be the first.” you said, taking your turn to speak into your glass while you drank. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” you scoffed, setting the glass down again, “But after two years, I think I don’t want that so much - just give him time.” 

“You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me doesn’t want me dead?” 

“‘You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me does want you dead’? Listen to yourself Kenny.” You said, mocking him, but making him think seriously at once. “He’s lost his mum, you’re not so cold to think a boy would want to lose another relative again so quickly.” 

You felt his legs shift between yours - they pulled away, but not enough. You could still feel the warmth of his calf press against yours. “Anyways, with how you wave your pocket knife around so - he might’ve just been trying to copy you.” 

“Right,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips and casting a long glance out the window. “Kids do that, don’t they?” The conversation entered a lull as you both took turns sipping your drinks and staring at the lake lapping at the jetty. A comfortable silence if you ever knew one. 

The air around you changed as the jukebox started a familiar riff of AC/DC. “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I ever seen.” 

Kenny looked at you, downed his drink, then spoke. 

“Wanna take me up on that ride tonight?” he asked. You broke out in a grin. 

It was still warm outside, and the gravel car park crunched under your feet as Kenny led you to his bike. 

There was a thrill sitting hot and heavy in your gut. The fact you had said yes to Kenny to a ride home - perhaps more. Did you want more? He was attractive, in an older man sort of way, and despite all the gross things he could say sometimes he was still a nice enough guy.

Heaven knows you could both use a chance to get laid.  

“I was starting to wonder how much longer I had to work on you before you finally said yes.” he said, breaking away from your slide to throw a leg over the seat with a grin. His hand outstretched to offer help to get on behind him. “Lucky for you, I'm a patient man.” 

As you slid your hand into his, you climbed on - soon finding that in order to be comfortable you needed to be pressed quite close to his back. But you were feeling like being a tease too. 

“Maybe I’ve liked making you wait.” you hummed, chin pressed to his shoulder as you spoke into his ear. You felt him chuckle under your palms as he kicked the engine into gear. 

“Maybe I’ve liked waiting.” he said over the machine’s roar. 

#modern au #kenny ackerman x reader #kenny ackerman x you #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot x you #snk x you #attack on titan x reader

[chelseeebe]

haunt // bed

summary: you find comfort in the arms of steve harrington when your dad dies. can this arrangement really work when he begins to fall in love?

a/n: so this started off so good n then i left it n now i hate it :D but hey, it’s finished and i do not ever have to think about it again

hopper!reader x steve, basically starts as smut w a plot line n then gets mushy

steve could do casual sex.

steve was the king of casual sex.

it was just sex, right?

he’d practically invented it.

so why did this feel so different.. difficult almost. like something was itching at his brain.

maybe it was the fact he had always had a little crush on you? or because he knew you were still grieving, not in your right mind and maybe he should take a step back.

it didn’t stop him.

you were only supposed to go over to his to talk.

he was there at the mall when it happened and you’d wanted to know every single detail. what your dad had said before the basement of starcourt mall had exploded and he was ultimately caught in the eruption.

they’d combed the ruins for his body but to no avail. strange government agents reassuring you that it would have been totally painless and the blast would have meant there were little to no remains.

unsurprisingly, it offered no comfort.

steve had offered an ear, a shoulder to cry on. he understood. having been wrapped up in this otherworldly shit for years now, and still having to come to terms with his own experiences.

‘treat me like an old friend.’

you recalled the moment you pulled up outside the mall, how the flame’s encapsulated the entire building and joyce byers gave you that teary-eyed look. how you’d just known.

you tell him about the feel of your knees hitting the concrete as they buckled from beneath you, in the moment the pain was numbed but your legs were still black and blue from the impact.

the tears rolled down your cheeks, hugging onto your knees like a small child, feeling minuscule on his gigantic sofa.

then you leant over, sodden cheeks and planted your salty, tear stained lips on his, he was taken aback. only briefly, as he chased the feeling of your lips, cradling your cheek.

‘d-do you think we should? i mean-,’ he mumbles against your lips.

you stop him with a finger on his lips and nod, ‘i want to.. i need to,’ eyes still blurred and unfocused.

he pauses, but only for a second, ‘if you must then,’ smirking slyly.

there’s no hesitation to the second kiss, you were just aching to feel something, anything and steve could provide that.

you clamber on top of him, knees either side of his legs and tug on the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head, discarding the fabric on his living room floor.

he moves underneath you, gripping onto your fleshy hips as he got more comfortable, his lips moving down to place small, gentle kisses to the skin of your neck.

‘off,’ he breathes against your neck, lifting your shirt up.

you oblige, lifting your arms up to make it easier.

you shuffle around as his fingers tug down your worn sweatpants, it’s awkward and quite frankly difficult to get them off and you lean forward, connecting your lips once more to fill the space he had created.

he fumbles with his own jeans and you lift yourself up as he pulls them down around his thighs, boxers shortly after and you can feel how hard he is beneath you.

your fingers entangle into his long hair, his eyes gaze up at you, blown out pupils and wet lips.

‘y-you’re sure?’ he reiterates and you nod, reaching down between your bodies, positioning his cock to your slick entrance.

your breath hitches as you move down onto him, pausing for just a moment to adjust to the fullness of him inside of you.

his fingers dig marks into the fat of your waist, top teeth biting down onto his lip as you begin to slowly move your hips, a low groan in your throat.

you reposition your hands, gripping onto his bare shoulders, nails leaving small indentations in the skin.

the rough feel of denim brushes against you as you bounce, his length sliding out of your pussy.

his head falls back, a deep moan falls out of his parted lips, only encouraging your hips to rock faster.

‘ho-holy shit,’ he sighs, glossy eyed as he watches your face, enjoying the sight of pleasure painted on your face.

you slow your rhythm, rolling your hips against his and tilting your head down, burying your sweaty forehead in his shoulder.

steve wraps his arms around your waist, knees bent, digging his heels into the soft sofa as he starts to buck his hips upwards, slamming into you from below.

‘oh my god,’ you whimper into his neck, leaning forward to allow him to continue thrusting up.

it’s a filthy sound, his balls slapping into the backs of your thighs, only turning you on more as he quickens his pace.

his carefully designed living room full of skin-on-skin and both of your moans and groans.

the familiar feeling in your stomach heightens and you pull your head out of his neck, pressing your forehead to his.

‘i’m gonna come,’ you whimper, nodding against him, eyes planted firmly on his as he falters, breathing heavier as his own orgasm builds.

you bounce against him, hitting the indescribable angle as your knees weaken and the coil snaps, white-hot pleasure searing all over your body.

your eyes clamp shut, a show of white stars flood your vision as he grunts, pumping in and out for the final time as he erupts, meeting a similar orgasm.

he pants, open mouth pressed against your cheek when he slides out of you, arms going slack around your waist.

you catch your breath, still on his lap and clear your throat, watching him come back down to earth.

you move off his legs and onto the couch, reaching down to get your shirt, throwing it over your body.

steve’s eyes follow you, shocked at your nonchalance after what was arguably the best sex of his life.

he sighs, knowing that for you, it was truly nothing.. a way to cope with your grief.

you wipe your moist face and look back at him, a slight smile on your lips, ‘well.. definitely needed that,’ you chuckle.

he returns the smile, wriggling his jeans back up. his eyes fall to your still exposed thighs, trying to memorise every last part of your body incase this was the last time.

‘yeah..’ he nods, completely enamoured as you redress, jumping into your sweatpants again.

you stand, running a hand through your tangled hair, ‘you don’t sound too thrilled.. was it that bad?’

‘no no, god no.. i was just..’ falling in love with you, ‘trying to remember how to breathe,’ he jokes, trying to change the subject.

you let out a breathy laugh, ‘well thank you.. i needed that,’ you comb through your hair with your fingers and spin to find your discarded shoes.

‘you going?’ he questions, sitting up on the couch. not wanting you to leave his sight again.

‘yeah.. said i’d have dinner with el.. i’m actually already late,’ you slide your shoes on and fling the discarded jacket over your shoulders.

he stands, following you over to his front door, ‘well.. i’m here anytime.. remember that,’ he nods assuringly, brushing a hand against your arm.

you grin back, ‘oh, i will,’ exiting his house and walking over to your car, flashing a short wave to the still-shirtless boy.

he closes the door and leans back against the wood, letting his head bang against it as he exhales.

there was no way this could ever just be sex. not with the way his heart was aching after you’d only been gone mere moments.

-

well, it is just sex. at least you keep telling yourself it is.

but over the weeks, your sporadic hookups eventually turn into staying over.

and you call him when nights at the cabin are too much. when the silence echoes just a bit too loud and you know you’ll combust if his hands aren’t all over you soon.

he becomes a sort of crutch for you to lean on.

this sensation was new to steve, finally seeing the other side of the situation.

see, he had been the user many, many times. but never the used. and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

sure, there were moments of tenderness, moments that two people not in a relationship probably should not share.

like the nights when he’d stay over, cooking for both of you and just rotting away in your bed, a soft cocoon of gentle kisses and shared laughter.

and then there were the other times when you’d get dressed straight after sex, using him for that sweet release and leaving him alone, pining for more.

you weren’t exactly thinking about it too much. steve was more than willing to be whatever you needed him to be, even if just for a moment.

-

‘it’s just sex,’ you shrug to the two girls, picking at the fries in front of you.

you weren’t even sure if you believed your own words.

they glance at each other and you clock, furrowing your brows.

‘what?’

robin sighs, pushing the empty plate away from her, ‘is it?’

you shake your head, not understanding her question.

‘is it just sex?’ nancy takes over, eyes wide and full of concern.

‘yeah? i don’t- what are you trying to say?’ you push back, unappreciative of their lack of understanding.

robin bites down onto her bottom lip, shaking her head.

nancy pouts, contemplating whether it was wise to explain.

‘i’ll i’m going to say is.. maybe steve doesn’t see it as just sex..’ robin blurts out.

you shake your head again, letting out a breathless laugh, ‘what? he does.’

they look at each other again and robin exhales, ‘no.. he doesn’t.. he knows you do but he wants.. more,’ she stumbles through her words.

she’d never really been good at articulating herself and was even worse in sensitive situations.

‘don’t take this the wrong way,’ nancy speaks up, ‘but maybe.. maybe it’s not such a healthy way of dealing with things.. we all just want the best for you,’ she nods, giving a flat-lipped smile.

you frown, standing up from the table, the chair making a terrible screeching sound along the wooden floor as you do.

‘i don’t recall ever asking for your opinion on how i deal with my dad dying.. but i’ll make sure to take that on board,’ the tears brim in your eyes as you storm out of the diner, sniffing as the door slams shut behind you.

nancy sighs, watching as you storm out of the building. she knows you don’t mean it, you’re angry. hell, you’re a lot of things but not one of them okay.

-

the temptation to call steve was becoming too much.

you sit on the couch, knees to your chest as some old timey movie blares on the tv, the volume entirely too high in an attempt to drown out the awful silence.

it was one you’d used to watch with your dad and then eventually with el, turning into some sorts of a family tradition.

the byers had very kindly taken el into their home, with the offer of you joining her if you’d wanted. it was tempting but you knew how much joyce had struggled and giving her a whole other human being to look after was too much.

besides, you were old enough now to live on your own.

though, she would make sure to come down to the cabin every few days just to check up on you, having jonathan and will bring you home cooked meals and little care packages she’d curated.

it meant more to you than she’d ever know, especially on days like today where your heart sank into your stomach, the cabin walls closing in.

robin’s words bouncing around the inside of your mind.

maybe it wasn’t just sex.

would two people just having sex hold each other the way you do?

would they stroke your hair as you slept the way steve did to you?

steve had been there through a lot of the uncomfortable times, dressing in his nicest suit to accompany you to the funeral, gripping onto your hand as they lowered the empty coffin into the ground.

the funeral itself had taken a lot longer than anticipated to happen, with owen’s having to scour the entire crumbling down mall and conduct their own reports.

there were only a handful of attendees that knew that your dad wasn’t actually in there. owen’s had told you that unfortunately there was no trace of his body, but trying to assure you that it would’ve been painless.. and no body was better than the alternative or him being dust on the floor.

you turn the tv off, trying to shake the thoughts of your dad in that basement, now sat in uncomfortable silence as your hand twitches, finding itself on the plastic receiver, already dialling steve’s number.

it rings a few times and you will for him to pickup, honestly just wanting to hear his voice on the other line.

‘hello?’ he breathes into the phone.

you exhale a small sigh of relief at the sound of him, ‘i need you.’

he sighs, already knowing who was on the other side.

‘please.’

‘i’m coming,’ he assures and you can hear a brief scuffle as he grabs his car keys.

you squeeze your eyes shut, falling back onto the sofa, wishing he could just be here immediately.

‘i’m leaving now, okay?’

‘okay,’ you nod, placing the receiver down.

you stay in that exact position on the couch, waiting for steve to arrive.

there’s a small knock on the cabin door and you shoot up, rushing over to let him in.

you swing the door open, wet eyes meeting his as you let out an unexpected cry.

he steps forward, throwing his arms around your body, pulling you into his warm chest.

‘hey..hey, it’s okay,’ he coos, rubbing your back, attempting to console you as he had done a multitude of times before.

he guides you over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind him and sitting back on the soft cushions, your body falling on top of him.

you cling onto him, wriggling around to face him, his hands still holding onto your back.

his hand comes up to wipe the tears from your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours.

you look at him through glossy eyes, arms slung around his neck, ‘thank you,’ you breath.

he shakes his head against yours, ‘don’t.. of course i’d come, did something happen?’

‘no.. i just wanted you,’ you sniff, finally consoled as he rocks slowly back and forth.

he smiles, meeting your gaze, ‘have you eaten?’

‘not yet.. not really hungry,’ you let go of him slightly, moving one hand to hold onto his stubbly cheek.

‘what do you want? you need to eat something..’

‘hmm.. pasta?’

‘now how’d i know you were gonna say that?’ he chuckles, booping his thump on your nose.

this was definitely not a casual sex relationship.

your heart skipped a beat as he placed you onto the sofa, walking off to make the pair of you dinner.

maybe you’d finally realised exactly what you wanted.

-

‘i think el’s going to california.. joyce is selling up and moving them all out there..’ you say quietly, looking up at him.

‘oh?’

you nod, trying to gauge his reaction.

‘yeah.. she asked if i would want to go.. dad uh-,’ you clear your throat, but the lump sits firm, ‘he left some money.. there’s more than enough to get me a place out there..’

his mouth falls open, you’d mentioned joyce’s plan to leave hawkins before.. but he’d never have assumed that included you too.

‘are you gonna go..?’ he mumbles, trying not to make it obvious about how much he hated that idea.

you bite your lip, placing the empty bowl on the table and sitting back against his chest, ‘i don’t know.. i’ve been thinking about it.. hawkin’s just doesn’t feel like home anymore..’

only when i’m with you.

his heart sinks, surprised that you couldn’t feel it travelling down his sternum. how could he tell you that he’d probably keel over and die if you left him here alone if he hadn’t even told you how he truly felt?

‘oh.. that.. that makes sense, being there with el..’ he tried to mask the disappointment in his voice but fails incredibly.

your fingers twist around his, bringing his hand to your chest.

‘i don’t know though.. i wouldn’t want to leave you all on your own,’ you chuckle slightly, picking up on his glum tone.

he smiles slightly but you don’t see, ‘i wouldn’t be completely on my own..’ his mind flashes to robin and how much closer they’d grown over this summer.

shared trauma and all that.

‘no.. hey.. i saw rob and nancy the other day and- can i ask you something?’ you move off of his chest, turning to face him.

he looks back at you, puzzled, ‘what did she say? i told her not to say anything about.. what happened, she’s not exactly great with words,’ he shakes his head.

‘no no.. it’s okay, it was about you actually,’ your lips twitch into a smile as his cheeks turn red.

he’d told her practically everything about you and him, they were like gossiping old friends, but now his mind flashes to the multitude of things he had confided in her and can’t think of which would be most embarrassing.

‘oh.. i think that’s even worse,’ he mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes.

‘shh.. i just wanted to know.. well, she basically said that.. with us,’ you gesture between both of you, ‘well that you wanted.. more, and i just wanted to know if that was true.’

he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to come out of your mouth, but it definitely wasn’t that.

words fail to come out of his mouth, feeling slightly exposed by his supposed best friend.

he tries to read your face, determining how you felt but you weren’t giving much away, staring back at him and awaiting an answer.

he shrugs slightly, ‘i.. i’m happy with whatever is going on here..’ his attempt at brushing this off had not worked.

‘so you don’t want anything else from this?’ you grill him further.

you hadn’t even really thought about that possibility until robin had bought it up and with the decision looming over about whether you were going with the byers to lenora or staying here.. the thought of being in a relationship with him was now something you’d actually considered.. wanted.

you’d thought back to all those times, all the shared laughter and his glowing eyes, how they’d make you feel whole again.

how you’d began to crave his attention in more than a sexual manner, wanting to see him smile just because it made you smile.

‘i.. might have mentioned something to rob.. just talking about how sometimes it feels like we’re in a relationship, it was stupid-,’

‘steve, can you please just answer my question,’ you stop his rambling.

he closes his eyes briefly and breathes in, ‘i do.. i want you to be my girlfriend, but.. i’m okay with that not happening especially if you’re moving.. i don’t wanna pressure you,’ he goes on, words tumbling out of his mouth a mile a minute.

you put your hand on his knee to calm him down, widening your eyes at him as you try to stifle your laughter at his word vomit.

‘it’s okay.. you can breathe,’ you nod, reassuring him, ‘so.. if i stay here in hawkins, i think it’d probably be a good idea if things were maybe.. more official between us?’

he looks back to you, slightly confused, ‘really? don’t feel like you have to.. i know you’re still going through stuff, i don’t want you to feel pressured, that’s all.’

you shake your head, squeezing his knee, ‘i don’t, i just hadn’t really thought about it like that until robin mentioned it.. and i realised i actually wanted that.’

he smiles, ‘okay.. so,’ he looks bashful, suddenly coy, ‘what are you like.. my girlfriend or something now?’

you laugh, a real guttural laugh, one that only steve had gotten out of you over the past few months, shrugging, ‘i think so.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

[reidsnose]

Young and Beautiful

overview: spencer and reader spend the day together and feel like little kids again

genre: fluff

a/n: ok i think this concept is so cute but i feel like i wrote it dumb LMAO but its fine i'm excited tho lmk if y'all like it at all :)

masterlist

-

the setting sun peaked through the trees as you and Spencer walked around aimlessly. it wasn't often that you had days off, let alone enough to spend together. and the city was curiously empty, the usual bustle of the day having died down by evening. most people are itching to go home on a random Wednesday night.

"i really don't like the look of those clouds y/n." Spencer warned, pointing towards a large, dark gray cloud.

"i already told you i checked the weather and they said no rain!" you countered, though you had to admit the cloud looked pretty hefty. "it will probably just pass us over."

he hummed a hesitant agreement and carried on with the conversation you two were having. you looked around as the two of you talked, taking in the peace of the moment. the light breeze, the the hum of distant cars as you neared a park, the way the sunlight sparkled in Spencer's eyes as he talked, a golden tint covering the world around you.

he watched you soaking up the beauty around you, wondering if you ever saw your own. you were truly the most beautiful person alive. inside and out. he smiled to himself as your eyes lingering on the empty playground.

"you wanna go to the playground?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"is that weird? like were fully adults why is that twisty slide calling my name?" you giggled.

in a surge of confidence, he grabbed your hand and started running towards the playground with you, the rouge on your cheeks masked by the flush of a quick run. when he was around you, he felt like a kid again. you did too.

you tried not to think about how your hand tingled from holding his. it was only a couple of seconds and probably meant nothing, but you couldn't shed that wonderful feeling.

you guys raced to the slide, giggling like a bunch of school kids at recess. he beat you to the twisty slide, climbing quickly to the top and sliding down head first right off the end. you followed immediately after, arms stretched in front of you like superman and landing on the floor next to him.

"God, this reminds me of making a 'best friend' every time i went to the playground as a kid," you laughed, standing up and offering him a hand.

"cant say i relate to that," he chuckled, grabbing your outstretched hand and hoisting himself off the ground, sending a surge of electricity through his veins.

"oh come on! you never met another kid at the park and you two swore to be best friends forever and then never saw each other again?"

"nope," he replied, popping the p, "i didn't go to the playground much when i was little, nor was i the most sociable kid."

"hmm..." you hummed, "well i think you need to experience that."

he chuckled, but this time it was your turn to grab his hand and lead him somewhere. you two ran to get under the jungle gym, his long legs struggling to fit underneath.

"what are we doing under here?" he laughed, grunting as he pulled on his legs so he could sit criss cross.

"you're making your first ever playground best friend." you answered simply, sticking out your pinky. "do you...state your full name.."

"Spencer Walter Reid." he laughed, looping his pinky with yours.

"do you Spencer Walter Reid pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" you asked, trying hard to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

"i do." he answered, shaking your intertwined pinkies up and down after he was met with silence.

"ok now ask me," you whispered.

"do you...state your full name.." he echoed.

"y/f/n." you giggled.

"do you y/f/n pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" he asked, stifling a smile.

"i do." you answered, pinkies still linked in front of you.

"ok now what?" he whispered.

"by the power vested in me by this playground, i now pronounce us best friends forever. we may now kiss our thumbs." you announced.

he laughed confused and you both leaned in, pecking your own thumbs on the pinky promise hand, only the distance of your linked hands between your lips.

he blurted a fact on the history of kissing, how it was used in the olden days to seal the deal. he also mentioned how all the pinky promises he's ever done never involved him kissing his thumb, you laughed and said that it must be a Vegas thing.

you two used just about every piece of playground equipment, truly feeling like little kids again. giggling and screaming and being immature, your inner children completely taking over.

a clap of thunder interrupted you two while taking turns jumping off of the swings. your eyes grew wide as you looked at each other, recalling how you swore it wasn't going to rain.

just as you opened your mouth to say it still might not rain, it started absolutely pouring. the both of you were drenched in seconds, grabbing haphazardly onto eachothers hands and breaking out into a sprint, running as fast as both of you could in the direction of Spencer's apartment (which was much closer than yours).

but he did not have the long distance endurance, and to be honest neither did you and after a few minutes of running, you guys were still about half a mile away, huffing and puffing and soaking wet.

Spencer wasn't sure if most of his breath was lost from running, or from holding onto you this long. maybe a mix of both?

"lets just walk! were soaked already so who cares!" he shouted over the pitter patter of the storm, still hand and hand with you.

"who are you and what have you done with Spencer," you laughed, lifting your joined hands above you and twirling underneath.

he only chuckled a response, this time he lifted your intertwined hands allowing you to twirl again, humming a classical piece horribly off key.

the two of you started dancing down the sidewalk, spinning and jumping and swaying and leaping and laughing til you could barely stand. his lanky limbs flying left and right as you took turns humming different styles of music, even opting for an Irish jig at one point. and all in the pouring rain.

this was arguably the most fun either of you had ever had and we all know what happens to time when you're enjoying yourself. before you knew it you guys had arrived at his apartment.

water dripped from the both of you as you ran up the stairs, slipping and sliding all over the place.

"let me give you some of my clothes to change into so you don't have to drive home all soaked," he offered, unlocking the door and beckoning you to come inside.

"thanks bestie," you giggled, suppressing a shiver as you stepped inside.

he grabbed two towels, handing you one as you followed him into his room and watched him searching his dresser for something to give you.

he gave you a pair of sweatpants and told you to pick any sweater you wanted, causing you both to turn a deep shade of red as you realized you were sharing clothes.

he grabbed some clothes for himself and went to go change in the bathroom, letting you use his bedroom for more privacy. it was always the little things he did for you that made your heart burst.

you pulled his sweater over your head, taking in the smell of him that lingered on it. you smiled to yourself as you did, realizing you're already close enough with him to recognize it.

you finished changing and walked out of his room, seeing him reading on his couch, lounging in comfy clothes.

the sight of you in his clothes left him speechless, he imagined if you two were dating this might be a common occurrence. he shook his head of the thought and stood up as you offered him a smile, grabbing your keys off of the counter.

"thank you for today Spencer, it was.." you looked up at him trying not to get lost in his eyes, "..so much fun."

"thank you for making me feel like a kid again, there aren't many people who can do that. i don't know what i would do without you" he smiled, stepping slightly closer to you.

you couldn't believe your ears, or what was about to come toppling out of your mouth. he was just being so sweet and sentimental, your brain short circuited.

"love you forever." you blurted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

to your surprise (and delight), he stuck out his pinky, which you gladly looped with your own.

"love you more." he professed, leaning in to kiss his thumb.

him admitting this gave you an incredible rush of confidence and as you both went in to seal the deal of the pinky promise, you tightened your pinky with his and pulled your hands down, pecking his lips with your own.

it was a quick kiss but you still felt like you were on top of the world.

Spencer barely had time to process what had happened before it was already over. he couldn't believe it. the perfect kiss with the most perfect girl and he nearly missed it.

he pulled you back for one more, slightly longer kiss, just to make sure. you both smiled into it, floating around on cloud nine.

you pulled away and smiled widely at his lovesick face before giving a small wave and walking out the door, scampering down the stairs and out to your parked car.

he snapped out of his daze and ran to the window, waving goodbye to you with the worlds dopiest smile on his face. it dropped suddenly as he realized he never truly asked you out on a date.

"y/n!" he called from the window. you looked back up at him and waved, "do you wanna go out this weekend?"

you laughed before calling back at him, "its a date!"

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid comfort #bau reader #bau #behavioral analysis unit #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #bau fluff #spencer reid cute

[tamaki-kisses]

♡ Just A Taste.

ORDER #2 : rimming , praise , anal fingering

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

HUNGRY FOR MORE? : buffet entrance

you gaze up the length of tamaki’s jawline to eventually meet his eyes, your own filled with an impish sparkle. that shine shifts to something more earnest as you quirk your brows in question.

he simply blinks before nodding, the slight movement still allowing his bangs to nearly fall in his face more than they already are.

your hand continues to travel down his lower back and you keep your gaze locked on his until-

“-oh!”

tamaki emits a startled squeak when your lithe fingers finally go through with the bold move of grabbing and squeezing what’s contained by your boyfriend’s dark washed jeans.

excitement spurts up in your belly and spreads through your body, but you take a deep breath and release the handful and take a good look at tamaki’s tomato stained cheeks.

“was that okay?”

“… yeah.”

if you could possibly pinpoint the beginning of this, er, certain fixation of yours, that might have been it.

that’s how it started; the partially innocent brushing against his rear with your fingers, subtle yet focused pinching of his cheek, and even the occasional playful smack on his lovely ass.

and now you had your tamaki laid out on the bed in front of you, settled on his front with a pillow under his belly and stripped down to his boxers. the delectably thin material stretches across his ass, the muscles of his thighs, and you merely enjoy the sight for a moment before getting ready to finally initiate this.

“you think you’re ready, honey?”

your eager hands rest on the sharpness of his bare shoulder blades as you wait patiently for his answer. if you’re being completely honest, you could almost be satisfied just admiring his nearly naked form and basking in the intimacy that comes along with that.

he trembles just slightly under your touch, a couple steps up from ‘public speaking nervous’, you’d assume. “mm, yeah.”

his answer prompts you to let your fingertips travel down now, teasingly tracing down smooth skin until you’re resting on his lower back.

you’re taking your time working up to the main course as you know that’ll yield the best results for the both of you.

after lightly grazing his skin with your nails for a few peaceful minutes, you move lower.

tamaki’s breath audibly quickens when you simply place your hands on the tight space where his thighs end in the shadow of the modest round curve of his ass. the skin down there is somewhat sticky with nerve induced perspiration.

“okay?”

“mm…” he nods to further validate his approving hum, leading you to catch the adorable redness that’s glowing in the very tips of his ears.

you begin to rub small circles with your thumbs on the plump surface of tamaki’s ass and thighs. the shape has enviable firmness from hero work and his own workouts, but yet it’s so soft.

recalling the afternoon when you took a short but sweet nap on this very spot makes you smile to yourself as you continue to knead tamaki’s backside.

“tamaki.” you speak softly, your aroused curiosity bringing you to your next question. “when did you… start touching yourself down here?”

before he answers, tamaki tenses a little, you can feel it.

“um. well, it was before we were even together and i had seen it in, you know… porn. i-i just wanted to try it-“

“-and then you liked it, huh?”

you finish for him and give one of his cheeks a few encouraging pats.

he nods again, flush on the points of his ears spreading down to the lobes now. “mm…”

“i’m going to take these off now, alright?” your fingertips settle on the waistband of his underwear, just itching to peel them away.

“yeah, that’s fine.” tamaki tells you despite the fact that he’s obviously clenching his rear now that you’ve stopped your massage.

“just relax for me, tams.”

you wait for him to relax his tightened muscles at least a little bit before you finally start to slide his boxers over the hump of his ass and scoot them down his thighs.

you’re holding your breath when you finish stripping tamaki and don’t exhale until you’ve finally discarded the single piece of clothing.

now it’s your face that goes hot as you stare down at your boyfriend’s bare ass. it’s far from the first time you’ve seen it, of course, but this is much different considering what you’re only moments away from doing.

“just tell me if you need me to stop.”

you start by lowering your face down in between his thighs, your lips brushing against the sparse field of downy dark hair that starts here and goes down his legs. tamaki lets out a gasp, a subdued noise that you almost don’t catch, as you confidently plant a kiss against those soft hairs.

one lingering kiss turns into many; some light as a feather and others less fleeting and more greedy.

above you, tamaki continuously makes the smallest quivering sigh-like sounds. they’re distinct in their own unassuming way, you could easily pick them out of a haystack of noises if needed.

then you turn your attention to his cock, a background character in this saga, and are pleased to feel that he’s more than half hard. his manhood is deliciously hot in your hand and throbs in turn with your own pattering heart.

“you excited?” you mumble more so to yourself when tamaki squirms, squeezing your thighs together as tingling anticipation grows in your belly.

“ohh-“

tamaki gave a low sounding groan at the very moment you took a hold of his cock and he does it again when you let go to gently jostle his balls instead.

you run your thumb over the soft dimpled tissue, watching the way tamaki shivers to know when to apply strategic pressure. a flood of thoughts pour through your head as you rub and tug at his balls, just trying to work up the courage to get a taste of what’s so close.

“i’m… i’m gonna start now… okay?”

“okay.”

tamaki answers sooner than you were prepared for and you falter while merely staring at his ass. you have to remind yourself that you’re supposed to be the one in charge here…

it’s like the pulse pounding moment right before you took him in your mouth for the first time as you timidly place your hands on his cheeks.

you spread them apart slowly rather than just ripping off the bandaid and tamaki’s breathing is quick like a rabbit’s the entire time.

and there you have it, teasingly pink as it looks back at you.

“you’re so pretty, tamaki.” you coo and reach down to pet one of his cheeks, hoping to soothe his jitters somewhat.

“… is embarrassing.” he murmurs back and you know there’s not a chance that he’ll turn his head back so you can glance at his sweet face.

you take a final deep breath and lower your mouth.

first, you lightly lick a stripe down that neglected spot under his hole like you would down his thick shaft before blowing him.

it’s definitely foreign feeling, but you nearly melt inside when tamaki makes a mewling noise as a result.

you keep going, flicking your tongue on that bit of skin and even sneaking down to taste his balls some. they get a tickling kiss from you before you finally move back up.

“oh my god-“ tamaki exclaims in a strained manner when your lips press against his hole. you kiss him there too before pulling away, blowing air on the sensitive muscle as you part ways.

he squirms instantly, but you watch as his asshole practically flutters from the delicate sensation.

most of your nerves quickly start to fade as you suddenly can’t get enough.

your tongue works especially hard as you lick and kiss the star of the show all while tamaki shakes like a leaf beneath you. so cute.

“i think you’re ready.” you say when your mouth finally gets the opportunity to speak. “where’s your-?”

tamaki makes a frantic gesture towards his bedside table and you quickly go for the drawer, giggling when you find the half empty bottle of lube stashed next to some condoms.

“you’re doing so good.” you tell him as you keep him spread while getting your finger nice and slick.

“… thank you.” is how tamaki responds with a voice so shaky you’re afraid it might break. “m ready.”

you smile softly and leave one more kiss on his hole before plunging your finger in with precise and gentle patience. a surprised breath leaves you as you get used to the feeling of tamaki squeezing your finger like this.

and you don’t waste much time before curling your digit in just the right way.

the beautiful sound that tamaki emits is angelic and debauched all at once and pride jolts through you at the thought that you’re the one who’s pulled it out of him.

while your boyfriend whimpers and moans sweetly, you’re sighing with content while fucking him with your finger and groping his balls.

this is a meal you could never get tired of.

#kisses4tamaki #suneaters🍽buffet #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki smut #bnha smut #kinktober

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Mine (Alec Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: GORE!

You had to stay clear. Heidi was bringing in the tours and Demetri was around to make sure all would run smoothly, no one being left behind. Whilst you could only smile at a few of the tourists who locked eyes with you. You figured it wouldn't hurt, they'd go one way and you'd go the other, completely clear of what would happen next. Suddenly you heard your name. 

The voice was familiar but before you could recall who it was, they stepped out of the line of tourists, walking up to you with a smile. You felt your stomach drop. It was your ex boyfriend. Heidi and Demetri both looked at him but said nothing. "Well I'll be damned, I never thought I'd see you here." Your ex smiled. "It's good to see you." You said politely. Although you found it difficult to mask your unease. "Do you work here?" He asked. "Yeah." You nodded. "How have you been?" It was clear he was determined to get a conversation to you reluctantly gave in. "I've been good. Working mostly." You smiled gesturing to the room. "How have you been?" “I've been great. Travelling with friends. Partying. You know me." He winked. You hummed in 'amusement'. 

"Well hello there." Heidi glided up to you both. Your ex looked her up and down and smirked. "Hey." "(Y/N)'s considered new around her and doesn't know anyone." Heidi smiled, pulling you into her side. She rubbed your arm slightly. Although you were uncertain if that was her way to say she had your back. "So who's your friend?" She smiled wider, showing her teeth. "Oh he isn't my-" You began but your ex interrupted. "I'm an old friend. (Y/N) and I have quite a history together." He replied sending you a teasing flirtatious smile. "This is my ex boyfriend." You finished. "Oh I see. Well, you only have a couple of minutes, the tour is about to start and you..." She lightly tapped your nose with her free arm. "...have to get back to work." She broke away but kept at a close distance. Supposedly not paying attention anymore but you knew she was keeping close for you. 

"How long have you been here?" Your ex asked. "I've been here for nearly a year now."  "Wow. No one told me you'd left. Your mum told me when I went looking for you but she had no idea where you went. She said you had just up and left." You wanted to kick yourself and groan. This wasn't going to be easy. "Why...why did you speak to my mum?" You asked. "I was looking for you. I went to your house but your mum said you had been gone for months." "Yeah, I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I needed the space and time to build a new life here. My...my life back there was pretty much ruined." Thanks to him. "Ah, yes, that wasn't my finest moment." He said quieter. "It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. The way I see it, it would have been worse if I stayed." "In my eyes, the worst thing I've ever done is what I did to you." He responded. You were certain that your ex had cheated on you. If he hadn't then it would be a matter of waiting until he did. Waiting for your heartbreak. Not to mention he wasn't exactly apologetic for the flirting with others, and generally tiptoeing the line of cheating. 

When you ended things with him, he was determined to ruin your reputation with rumours about you such as being controlling. You saw the storm he was itching to give you. So you figured if you left, you'd be rid of him and any damage he caused, as well as he'd have no choice but to pick someone else or be his own downfall thanks to that oncoming storm. 

You shrugged. "Hey...can we talk? A little more privately?" He asked softly. "I don't think I can. I really need to get back to work-" "It'll only be just a minute." He said quickly. "Alright everyone, the tour is starting, if you could all please stick together and not wander. This place is very big and who knows if we'll find you again!" Heidi's voice rang out. The last sentence received a couple of chuckles. "Enjoy the tour. It was nice to see you again." You took a step back. "Please, it's important." He said hurriedly. You didn't know how to answer.  "One moment everyone!" Heidi smiled brightly as Demetri placed a hand on her back and guided her towards the corner in hushed chatter. 

"Make it quick." You said flatly. "I've been thinking about us. How we left things and I've really missed you." You sighed. "I know- I know we had our issues but if we try we can work through them." "No. I think the past is in the past and I want to leave it there." You responded. "If you didn't care you wouldn't have left everything behind." He said. "You know, I have more reasons to leave than you making up stories about me whilst you play around with others feelings." You frowned slightly. "I don't blame you." He answered. "I don't care and I don't need your validation. You made your choices and I made mine."  "You're just not thinking straight. You left your family. They don't even know where you are." He said. "That is none of your business." You said firmly. "Would you stop acting so entitled and being overdramatic and listen to me? It's no wonder we broke up. You do this every time!" 

"Excuse me, I think that's enough now." Demetri interrupted calmly. "The tour is about to start." "Buddy... you're really not involved in this and we're having a conversation so mind your business." Your ex said through gritted teeth. Before Demetri could respond, you jumped to his defence. "Don't speak to him like that! You can speak to me like that but don't speak to him like that!" "No, he can't speak to you that way." Heidi said, sending him a pointed gaze. Her hands on her hips. Your ex looked at her. Knowing him, he wanted to snap at her like he had Demetri but as soon as his eyes landed on her, they softened and he said nothing. He wore the same look he had back then. "You know that's why I'd get to angry with you." You said softly. "You always tried to convince me that I was crazy but even now, you have a wandering eye." "What? You'd want me to blind myself? Is that what would make you happy?" He said with snark and you didn't respond. Demetri nodded to Heidi . "Are we done here?" You asked him. "No." Your ex said flatly. You sighed before turning to Heidi. She was about to speak up but you cut her off. "It's okay Heidi. I can handle this." "You make it sound like I'm the problem here." Your ex frowned. "If your colleagues didn't hover around you then perhaps we wouldn't be disagreeing right now." "It's alright, Heidi." Demetri said as he put a hand on her shoulder. "You go ahead with the group. I'll make sure he catches up." Heidi thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Very well." With a flick of her hair she moved towards the front of the group. "As I said everyone! Stay together!" She began to walk down the corridor, heading towards the throne room. 

You knew at this point your ex was just shutting down. He knew that wasn't what you meant but everything he'd say from that moment forward was out of pure spite. "You do this every time!" He said in anger. "I don't want to fight with you! I'm trying to talk to you." "There's nothing to talk about. What you and I had is over." "No, it's not." He responded quickly and confidently. "You can't do that. You can't just speak to me like we just shared a ride home." He said, stepping closer. "You and I are more than that, we always have been." "We aren't anything. I've moved on and I'm happy." You responded, standing your ground. "Moved on?" He laughed. "No. No, I don't believe that. You're still standing here and we both know that when you're done with someone that you don't give them the time of day." "I'm trying to be civil and not make a scene." He laughed again, completely convinced. "Alright. Where is my replacement then, hm? Is it him?" Your ex nodded behind him towards Demetri. "No and I don't want you meeting him." You folded your arms. "Or I won't because you're lying." Your ex smirked. "You don't have to be like this babe. We can start again. We can have that happy life together we talked about. Laugh about all of this later. You and I were solid and we can be like that again." You shook your head. "No. I already told you I'm with someone else." "And do they love you like I do?" He asked. You paused. You knew Alec loved you. He just didn't tell it or show it all the time. Not in the way your previous relationships had. Alec wasn't like other people and sometimes that had challenges but you'd take that. You'd rather someone loved you and barely told you rather than someone constantly telling you they loved you merely because they loved the idea of you and wanted to keep you around. "My guess is that he loves me more." You answered quietly. It had been a long time since you had to deal with how your ex was treating you and you couldn't help but wonder if you were losing. Your ex hummed in amusement. "You tell yourself that a lot, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. Well let me tell you babe, loving you is easy." He moved closer, his voice lowering. "I promise you, I loved you more than anyone ever has and I still do. You're hurt. I get that. I hurt you but I can fix it just as easily. Just as easily as you light up my world with that beautiful face of yours. Come on, you and me." He took your arms and you shook your head. "No." You said quickly. Demetri stepped forward but you shook your head at him. "It's fine, Demetri. I can handle this." You said hurriedly. "In fact, don't you have somewhere else to be?" Your ex sneered at Demetri behind him. His grip on you tightened. "Stop it. You're getting angry at him for no reason." You said hurriedly. "Yes, I am because this dude doesn't know when to take a hint and clear off." Your ex said sharply. Demetri's eyes narrowed on your ex before turning on his heel and briskly heading down the corridors, the same way the rest of the tourists had. 

"Come on, you and me." Your ex said quieter and softly. "We had amazing times together and we should never have ended things the way we did." "You're not listening to me. It is over." You emphasized. "No, it's not." He said simply. Before you could pull back, your ex pulled you in by your arms and kissed you. You immediately pulled your head away. "You can't do that!" You cried out. However you cry was drowned out by a very loud scream of rage. 

Alec was in front of you both in moments and looked absolutely livid. With inhuman speed he grabbed your ex, throwing him to the ground. Alec was moving so fast that you couldn't see anything but a blur. Your ex screamed in terror as Alec dragged him by the legs, down a different corridor behind you. "Alec!?" You cried out but before you could move, Demetri held you back as Felix and Jane stepped around you, heading after Alec. Demetri forcibly made you turn in the other direction. 

You thought he was taking you to the throne room but her turned a sharp corner and instead led you to the kitchen. You could only say Demetri's name, unable to form a coherent sentence. You wanted to ask him a million questions but nothing came to mind. "Your arms..." Demetri said quickly closing the gap between you to inspect your arms. You looked down to see red scratches down your fore arms. "Do these hurt?" He asked. 

Now that you were aware of them, you acknowledged the burning sensation they left but you weren't even remotely concerned about that. You were worried about Alec. "No!" You said hurriedly. "I'm more concerned about Alec. He was- where did he go? What just happened!?" Demetri didn't answer, simply staring into your eyes. "Let us deal with this, understand the situation better so I can be accurate, alright? Just, let me take you to his room and be patient.” You let him, taking a glass of water with you for Demetri's peace of mind. 

Jane turned around to see Demetri approaching. "How bad is it?" He asked. Alec's screams of rage and the sound of breaking furniture very loud despite the door being shut. "Bad." Felix responded. "The human is basically soup in there." "The humans final minutes were nothing less of excruciating." Jane smiled darkly. "Is the human in pieces?" Demetri said in somewhat horror. Not because he suddenly had a concern for humans. More so because humans are basically bags of fluid and if your ex had been even slightly ripped open, blood and everything else would utterly destroy the very old carpets, rugs and walls. Not to mention Alec was currently destroying everything in sight. "Friend, I'm going to say this as delicately as I can." Felix said to Demetri. "That human was very much alive when Alec ripped him apparent and tore out his organs. He then threw the organs all over the room and has since been stamping on every bone. That human is a puddle of mush and then rest of him is across the room." "How lovely..." Demetri trailed off. Although he wasn't surprised. This was Alec after all. "He needs to calm down soon. (Y/N) is worried about him." "They'll need to wait." Jane responded flatly. "It's been a long time since he's been this angry." Jane spoke of it like talking about the weather and not that her brother was completely destroying a room whilst creating a gruesome scene. "I'm surprised you're not in there and helping him." Felix said to Jane. "He wouldn't let me get close. He wanted the human to himself." Jane smiled proudly as she thought fondly of her brother. "That human was in just as much pain if I got to him." Felix blinked. "Alright, what's the plan?" "You and I go to (Y/N) and explain the situation, then we go and inform Aro. Jane will stay here with Alec until he calms down. Jane, do not let him go to his room afterwards, (Y/N) is in there and they can't see him like that." Demetri said and Jane nodded as Felix moved towards Demetri. 

"Okay you're telling me not to worry but now there are two of you and you won't tell me what's happening." Your eyes narrowed on the two. "It's complicated and we don't know how to explain without crossing a line." Demetri responded. "Wait, Demetri, can we even tell them? Is it our place to tell?" Felix asked. "I don't think we have much of a choice. Do you think Alec will?" Demetri turned to Felix. You looked between the two. "If you don't tell me what's going on then I will scream." You warned them. The two simply looked at you, seemingly unconvinced that you would. You inhaled a deep breath. "Wait! Wait, hold on little human!" Felix said quickly raising his arms. "We'll tell you just don't do that." Demetri said quickly. Neither of the two wanted to find out what you screaming would do when Alec is already off the rails. It could be those two next for all they knew if you did. 

Before Felix could talk, Demetri cut him off. "I'll tell them. You are awful at breaking news to anyone." Felix huffed, annoyed he couldn't but at the same time slightly offended with the lack of faith his friend had in him. Although Felix knew his friend was right. He really was the worst at that. "You know that Alec can be temperamental and is very driven by his emotions when he wants to be." Demetri began. "You also know that sometimes be can be so aggravated that he has..." Demetri trailed off. "Tantrums." Felix said flatly. Demetri sent him a pointed look. "What else can you call this? We'll be here all day if we want to look at this with rose tinted glasses. It's tantrums." Felix continued in his defence and Demetri sighed. "Just as Jane does. You know of this but haven't ever experienced it for yourself. This is one of those times. Alec has disposed of the human and is currently on a uncontrollable rampage of destruction. All we can do is wait for him to calm on his own." "Why...why has this provoked such a reaction?" You asked. "Well-" Demetri was cut off again by Felix. "Because the twins do this every time they don't get their own way or something happens they don't like... usually the first one." "Felix!" Demetri scolded him. "It's true! (Y/N) lives here, they might as well know that when the twins don't get what they want, this is what happens!" Felix said to defend himself again. "What I was going to say is," Demetri said as he narrowed his eyes on Felix in warning. "Alec is very... protective of you." "Yeah but also possessive." Felix interrupted again. "Felix, I swear-" "I'm just telling the truth!" Demetri quietly growled in slight frustration. "Alec doesn't really know how to channel his emotions and his past has very much to do with that. He can't express himself correctly and so sometimes the twins have all this pent up emotion that they don't know what to do with it and...this happens." You blinked. "I can't do anything to help him?" "Darling, there is no reasoning with Alec right now in these states. It's best you leave him be and when he's ready he'll come to you." You sighed sitting on Alec's bed. "Might I speak with you about something for a moment? Something that has caused some concern?" Demetri asked. You nodded. "What's up?" You asked quietly. Demetri moved closer to you. "The way that human spoke to you. You know that isn't okay, right?" Demetri asked. You could see concern matching in both Felix and Demetri's eyes. "No one who ever claims to love you should ever treat you like that. You know that, don't you?" You nodded slowly. "I know." You said quietly. "I couldn't make excuses for him after some time and I know that when someone treats you like that... it'll only get worse. So I left. I told myself I deserved better and that I'd never go back." "Right on." Felix smirked softly from the doorway. "Did Alec hear?" You asked. Slowly, Demetri nodded. “He heard the human doubting him, shall we say? Although he was under control. He was approaching when I left when the human kissed you, Alec lost control.” You recalled the rage filled scream that rang through your ears. That must have been Alec. "Do you think he was worried? That I'd go back?" You asked. Demetri thought about it for a moment. "I think he doubts himself. How deserving he is of you. That being said, he'd hold you to him regardless." Demetri cracked a smile and you couldn't help but giggle. That sounded like Alec. "As I said, he's protective of you. You mean everything to him and when someone disrespects you. He will take that very personally." Demetri assured you before stepping back. "Give him some time. Maybe a couple of hours. He'll calm down and come back to you." "What did he do to him? My ex?" You asked. "I think it best that you don't think about that. It's better if you don't know." Demetri responded. 

Once Demetri closed Alec's door, Felix let out a sigh of relief. "They nearly screamed when we didn't tell them. Can you imagine if Alec heard them scream right now in this state? You and I would be done for!" "Now we'll be screaming next if the twins over heard what you said about them." Demetri's eyes narrowed. "We'll both get Jane's gift for that." "It was nothing but the truth!" Felix said. Demetri sighed, walking with more purpose. "(Y/N) is with us now, they'd figure that out eventually! Demetri, don't walk away from me!" Felix strode after his friend. 

After an hour of worrying, Alec returned to his room. He stood in his open door way, staring you down. "Are you okay?" You asked before you could even think. "You shouldn't have seen that." He said lowly. "Alec..." You trailed off with worry. After a moment of staring you down, he marched towards you. 

Alec collided with you so hard that you fell back upon his bed. His lips were on yours before you knew it as he climbed further on top of you. You pulled back and hurriedly said his name before he moved back in for another kiss. "Alec! Alec!" You said hurriedly, taking his face into your hands. His eyes were a deep red, an improvement from the pitch black ones that met your gaze before but it was clear that Alec was still very much upset, even as his control was gradually returning. "Are you okay?" You asked. Alec swallowed, his stare intense. "Sweetheart, everything is okay." You said weakly, feeling tears begin to build in your throat. "You're the only one that matters." You assured him, stroking his cheek his your thumb. 

You needed him to be sure that only Alec mattered to you. Unable to stand even the thought that Alec doubted that. Alec caught sight of your arm and a quiet sound that resembled a whine escaped him. The red marks that streaked down from your elbow to your wrist. Alec began to grow irate, unable to tear his eyes from your arm as he immediately pulled back from you and your hold to grasp your arm. You knew Alec was trying to figure out if he had done that but you couldn't tell him. You didn't know if it had been Alec or your ex when Alec grabbed him with such speed, tearing him from you. 

"It's okay." You said to him softly. "I-I didn't even feel it. It was so quick and with everything going on, I didn't even realise what had happened." "Does it hurt?" Alec asked. His voice made it clear that he was grasping at every straw of control he had. All the while his voice tone was slightly higher, almost like whine he was trying to hold back. "It stings a little every now and then but it's honestly just a scratch." That Alec knew. There wasn't any bleeding or even a break of the skin. However that didn't make him any happier about the situation. He exhaled and you barely heard the small whine before Alec pulled your arm to his cold lips, pressing kisses against the scratch. "I'm more concerned about you and if you're okay." You said to him. Whilst you had been told about how angry Alec could get, this had been the first time you had ever witnessed it. Alec's gaze met yours once more. "Kiss me." He said lowly before pressing his lips against yours.  You returned the kiss, without any further questions. When he was ready and if he wanted to, he'd say what's on his mind. "Come here." You said to him quietly and he leaned back slightly, allowing you to move up to the pillows on his bed. He followed and you pulled him into your chest.  "I'm not going anywhere." You whispered as Alec's eyes fluttered shut, surrounded my your scent. One hand played with his hair, the other across his back. Alec wrapped his own arms around you sliding under your back. Every so often he'd squeeze you that little bit closer to him.

#request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #alec volturi #oneshot #one shot

[wrenhyperfixates]

Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.  

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n

[glimmerglanger]

maybe not the most inspiring of prompts, but for a potential spicy sunday, could we see some codywan with Obi-Wan’s manhandling kink in full force? I know you’ve mentioned it a few times but I’d love to see Cody pick him up and hold/pull/twist/carry Obi-Wan around in all kinds of ways without breaking a sweat 🥵

!!!!!!!!!!! I am so very, very weak for Obi-Wan’s manhandling kink. ALSO this decided to be about a lot of FEELINGS in addition to the spicy.

Have some post-war (everyone lives, nobody dies) Codywan fic this fine Tuesday morning. NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. Very Spicy. Happy domestic times. Soft and sweet, for all the spicy.

~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan knew he was heavier than he looked. Years of training - of war - had turned him mostly to muscle and bone. Which made it something of a surprise, the first time Cody bodily hauled him along in the middle of a fight, without any apparent signs of difficulty.

Obi-Wan had gone down hard when a shell detonated only a few feet away; he’d been more worried about deflecting the force of the blast away from his men than remaining on his feet. He’d been prepared to scramble up when Cody just grabbed him - hands gripping tight at his arms - and yanked him back to his feet, dragging him along until Obi-Wan’s legs started working again.

And that was...interesting, he registered through the dizzy haze in his head.

But there hadn’t been time to consider it more than that. And he didn’t allow himself to consider it, later, after the campaign, when he was back in his quarters on the Negotiator. That would have been...inappropriate.

He didn’t allow himself to think about it, even though it kept happening. As the war progressed, Cody developed a habit of shoving or pulling him out of the way of a hazard, as though that were - somehow - simpler than just yelling at him to move. 

It grew more difficult to ignore after Ventress threw Obi-Wan off of a building and Cody - somehow - caught him on the way down, yanking him out of a freefall with little more than a grunt and setting him down again.

But ignore it and set it aside Obi-Wan did, focusing on keeping his voice steady and his heart from racing inappropriately, clear through his defeat of Grievous, through receiving word from Coruscant that Anakin had discovered that Palpatine was a Sith lord, and fought him, and--

And the end of the war.

And it was a surprise - a delightful one, to be sure - when Cody showed up at Obi-Wan’s quarters in the Temple, one evening, after the Senate declared the war over and said, “General, Obi-Wan--I wanted to--”

Cody kissed him soft instead of finishing the thought. Unsure, that first time. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure that Cody had ever kissed anyone before and eased into it. They went slowly. They had no reason to go quickly, and, afterwards, Cody asked, “Should I...go?”

And Obi-Wan tugged him back to the bed and said, “You should stay.”

They fell asleep like that, woke up like that, and Obi-Wan expected, when they woke, that perhaps Cody would pull him closer and--

And Cody pressed close, indeed, after he woke up. But he was ever so careful with each movement. He handled Obi-Wan as though his bones were wrought of spun glass, as though the thought of leaving a bruise or a mark was not even to be considered.

Obi-Wan felt his warm joy, his pleasure, his contentment, and so he ignored any of the itching little desires that had lived in his head for years, by then. He, too, felt overfull of joy, leaning closer and kissing Cody’s mouth, taking him apart and putting him together again.

#

Perhaps they would have gone on like that indefinitely, if Obi-Wan never took an injury while handling a simple mission on Ryloth. He was still hurt by the time he made it back to the Temple, aching all down his left side, even after the healers looked him over and released him.

Cody was waiting for him, outside the door to the healer’s wing, a frown on his face. He said, “I let you go on one mission alone, and look what happens,” tone full of worry and chiding concern.

Obi-Wan gave him a smile and said, “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” 

Cody flashed him a disbelieving look and dragged one of Obi-Wan’s arms over his shoulders - soft and strong and warm - turning him towards their quarters without another word about it, and Obi-Wan’s gut kicked over, hard.

He felt like he was buzzing in his bones by the time they made it back to their rooms. Part of it had to be the pain-killers the healers had given him. It didn’t help that he missed Cody terribly. They’d been apart for the better part of two weeks.

Obi-Wan had gotten used to waking up beside him, going to bed curled against him.

It made his breath catch when Cody tugged him through the door and said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned off,” and just headed for the fresher. 

Obi-Wan had been perfectly willing to pass out in his current condition. But he said nothing in complaint when Cody brought him into the fresher and then leaned him against a wall, reaching for his belts with a determined look on his face.

“You’re quiet,” Cody said, after a beat, shoving Obi-Wan’s outer tunic down, dark eyes glancing up, some worry reflecting in them.

Obi-Wan shrugged, shivering when Cody’s hands skimmed over his skin, over bruises and aches. He said, half out of his head, “Just thinking I need to get banged around more often.”

Cody went still, hands on Obi-Wan’s belt, expression freezing into place. He said, confusion making his voice gruffer, “What -- why?” 

Obi-Wan hummed. He was beginning to think that, perhaps, the healers had missed a concussion. It happened, sometimes. He felt as though he were floating and had definitely lost some measure of control over keeping his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. “So you drag me around,” he said, breezy, and Cody just--stared at him, before something darkened in his eyes.

Cody looked to the side after a beat, hands still so close to Obi-Wan’s cock. Obi-Wan wished he could enjoy that state of affairs properly, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get hard. Not with the way his head felt. Cody cleared his throat, while Obi-Wan was thinking about things they could do even if he weren’t hard, and said, “You want to be dragged around, Obi-Wan?”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan said, leaning against the wall and feeling content to stay there as long as Cody desired. “Yes. But don’t worry. You don’t have to.”

Cody sucked in a little breath, held it, and then swore quietly before shaking himself. “You need to get to sleep,” he said, and started moving again, dragging down Obi-Wan’s slacks and turning on the fresher.

Obi-Wan groaned softly when Cody tugged him into the fresher. He let Obi-Wan lean against him as the hot water came down, as he rinsed off Obi-Wan’s skin, and, eventually, dried him off. And, somehow, they ended up curled up on their bed. Obi-Wan was starting to fade out, losing track of time, but that was alright.

Cody was there to keep track of it, for him. He could just...ease down into sleep. 

He was almost there when Cody asked, soft against his shoulder, “Why?”

“Why what, darling?” Obi-Wan asked, so drowsy the words blended together, nearly a slur.

“Why do you want dragged around?”

Obi-Wan hummed, pushing back a little against Cody’s warm, welcoming form. He almost shrugged but lacked the energy for it. “Just like it,” he said, yawning so wide that his jaw popped and then closing his eyes. “The way you do it.” And he didn’t know if Cody asked any further questions, because he fell asleep.

#

By morning, Obi-Wan vaguely remembered that Cody had insisted he take a shower and that they had spoken about….something. The details were a smeared blur, but he was used to that sensation. There were entire days he barely recalled, his memories all faded away from injury or exhaustion.

He noted it when Cody pulled him close to kiss him, before they left their quarters. It put a shiver down his back, but they had things to do, and so he set that aside. Cody watched him, though, gaze searching Obi-Wan’s expression before they stepped from the room.

And, later, when they were finally finished and able to snag some time to themselves, Cody tugged him through the door to their quarters, kissing him, hands everywhere. Obi-Wan groaned, pleasure jolting down into his gut, falling into the embrace.

And he groaned, unintentionally loud, when Cody pushed him a step back and then another, until his shoulders hit the wall. Cody made a thick sound in response, pulling his clothes off, and sliding down.

Obi-Wan swore, already hard by the time Cody tugged down his pants and stroked a touch over his cock. He bit his bottom lip, staring down, and then made a strange, ragged sound when Cody purposefully licked across his cock and slid his hands out to Obi-Wan’s hips, pressing him hard against the wall, staring up the entire time.

Obi-Wan shifted, as best he could, and gasped when Cody just tightened his grip, holding him just so. He could have used the Force to pry Cody off, if he wanted. But, fuck, he didn’t want. He wanted to just - just be held tight, to squirm fruitlessly while Cody bobbed his head and sucked and rolled his tongue and--

And swallowed, when he brought Obi-Wan over the edge.

Obi-Wan clenched fingers into his hair, breathing hard, groaning when Cody slid his mouth off slowly. “Like that?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan jerked out a nod, pleasure still throbbing within him, feeling Cody’s desire still pulsing in the Force.

“Good,” Cody said, and shifted, and Obi-Wan made a startled sound when Cody put a shoulder against his hips, wrapped an arm around his legs, and just stood, hefting Obi-Wan over a shoulder as though he weighed nothing.

Obi-Wan gasped, “What?” because it was so - so unnecessary. Their bed was hardly a dozen steps away. Muscle shifted under him as Cody crossed the floor, one of his hands closed on the back of Obi-Wan’s thigh, before they stepped through the bedroom door and--

And Cody dumped him down onto the mattress, so hard he bounced, gut getting tight again despite the fact that he’d just come, because, Force--

He started to reach for Cody, wanting him closer, immediately. Cody’s eyes were so dark. He was radiating lust through the Force, so thick that it made Obi-Wan shiver. He brushed a hand over Cody’s side, and then Cody was leaning over him, grabbing his shoulder and yanking and--

And rasping, “This what you want?” as he pulled Obi-Wan over onto his stomach and crawled onto the bed, pressing down over him, solid and warm and steadying, sliding his hand down Obi-Wan’s body to grip his thigh, pulling his leg to one side.

Cody settled closer against him, and Obi-Wan gasped back, “It’s very nice,” unthinking.

He had no idea what had brought any of this on, but that was a puzzle to solve at a later date. Sometime when Cody wasn’t humming and shifting, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hips and pulling them up, just moving him where - where Cody wanted him to be, his voice thick when he said, “Oh, I think we’ve got to do better than ‘very nice.’” He heard the click of a bottle opening and shivered down his back, his cock twitching already, Force-- 

“Cody--” Obi-Wan strangled off when Cody brushed slick fingers over him - once - and then pressed the tips of two fingers inside of him. He jolted, groaning, and Cody tightened his other hand on Obi-Wan’s hip, gripping hard and sure.

“Fuck,” Cody panted out, working his fingers in and out, going a little deeper each time, spreading them inside, stretching-- “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to - to hold you just like this? To just--” He twisted his fingers, pulled them out, came back with a third--

“How--” Obi-Wan gasped, looking for enough air to speak, feeling -- dizzy and good and -- “How long--?”

“You were--” Cody broke off, swearing, fucking his fingers in only once, perhaps twice, before dragging them out, his hand making a slick, wet sound when he stroked himself. Obi-Wan made a ragged sound in anticipation, trying to shift his hips to be more encouraging, and Cody tightened his grip again, panting out, “You were--on the bridge of the Negotiator. Bent over. Some star chart. And I wanted to - to push you forward--”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan panted out, wondering, fleetingly, exactly how long ago that had been, it could have been at any point during the war. It could have been the first time they met, that had been on the bridge of the Negotiator, but surely--

“And hold you, just like this,” Cody went on, leaning forward, the head of his cock pressed slick against Obi-Wan’s body, and-- “Get my cock in you,” he panted, rocking forward, Obi-Wan just stretched enough that it didn’t hurt but, oh, fuck, it ached. He felt it, each inch driving into him. “Just like this,” Cody panted, bottoming out, as Obi-Wan’s cock twitched against his stomach, hard so fast against it almost hurt.

“You want -- want me to fuck you like this?” Cody asked, apparently deciding to wait for an answer, buried so deep, holding Obi-Wan just so, letting him feel how full he was, how-- “However I want?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan gasped out, trying to shift forward enough to fuck back on Cody’s cock, and Cody grunted, putting his other hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, pressing down, holding him, and--

And Cody didn’t make him wait, after that, fucking into him hard and deep, breath punching out across Obi-Wan’s back and shoulders. Holding him just so, just how Cody wanted, and Obi-Wan was stuttering out nonsense words by the time Cody finally lost his rhythm and swore.

Obi-Wan expected Cody to fuck him harder, to shove him down, to come like that.

Instead, Cody leaned over him, curled an arm around his chest, and - with a grunt - rocked back onto his heels, dragging Obi-Wan along and--

And it drove his cock in deep. Obi-Wan felt speared open, crying out dazedly, Cody’s arm a band around his chest, Cody’s other hand sliding down his stomach, fingers curling around his aching cock, Cody grinding out against his ear, “Give it up for me, then, come on.”

Obi-Wan yelled something - it might have been Cody’s name - when he came, head dropping back on Cody’s shoulder, feeling his body squeeze around Cody’s cock and shivering when that was what brought Cody off, feeling the hot spill of him and hearing the noise he made as they sagged there together in the middle of the sheets.

“Force,” Obi-Wan rasped out, eventually, boneless in Cody’s hold. Cody made a thick sound against his shoulder and nodded, shifting so they collapsed sideways onto the mattress, just holding one another as their heart rates slowed down.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #codywan #spicy #not safe for wizards #seriously #obi-wan's manhandling kink #is a kink cody very much enjoys #post war au where everything is happy

[asterroidd]

cotton sweatshirt

↬  College AU

↬  Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Reader

↬  Word count: 2.6k

↬  Synopsis:  Fatigue was slowly consuming you, luckily your roommate is there to save the day

↬  Notes: Thank you so much for the request anon! I apologize it took so long before I wrote it. Anw, I hope you enjoy it!

↬  no proofread whatsoever, capn’

5th and 12th prompts: “Give me back my keys! I’m fine!” and “Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

    It was too much. All too much; the endless tasks, the studying, and numerous all-nighters that you had pulled by now.

    It was so taxing that your body couldn't keep up; eyes blood shot red from restless staring at the laptop screen, sunken cheeks due to the insufficient meal you are getting, and dark bags under your eyes that are evidently visible even from afar. If one would see you in such a state, one would assume you are a zombie or the living dead.

    Chewing your bottom lip, fingers anxiously taped against the wooden desk. Drained yes boring into the laptop screen as you tried your best to understand the text displayed in it. Your professor just had to be missing in action that week due to health reasons and as such couldn't attend most of the classroom session to teach. The replacement is just as worse—having no mastery over the lesson at hand that it only made it more confusing than before. So, you had to self-study for the sole sake of having a passing grade this semester. Finals weeks is looming around the corner and it's best that you understands the lessons beforehand so that you wouldn't have difficulty in studying once again later on.

    Your study session was supposed to be done before noon, yet here you are still hunched over the desk. A pencil at hand in attempt to take notes in the filler notebook. Your other hand curled up a fist full of hair, then ever so often tugging it in frustration. True, you did try to search online for other readings and videos that could potentially help you in your dilemma. Alas, you find yourself scratching your scalp and pulling your hair in frustration as you failed, yet again, to grasp the concept of the topic.

    Perhaps a book, you thought to yourself. There is a local library nearby—suppose a ten minute walk, could be even seven if you walked fast enough. For sure there are a handful of books there that could finally help you in understanding the lesson. And so with a drained sigh, you closed the lid of the laptop and stood up.

    You took in your surroundings; which was an utter mess. Eraser shards littered on top of your desk that some even fell to the floor due to you hastily sweeping them off. Mountains of books scattered around—some opened with a random item on top to act as a makeshift paper weight. Sticky notes plastered all over the walls and stacks upon stacks of paper everywhere. In short, your room looks like a battleground.

     Which it is; an academic battleground, that is.

    That said, you swiftly stuffed a handful of notebooks and pens into a small backpack so you could continue the study session at the library. Perhaps a change in environment would ease you off and clear your mind. When you exited from your room, you were surprised to see Levi lounging off the living room. A bowl of popcorn on his lap whilst lazily popping one in his mouth every so often. His eyes glued to the TV screen as it played a series, The Confession Tapes you presumed. Ever since you showed him the first episode a few days ago, he was so intrigued and thus became so hook with the story line.

    Oh, to have freedom and time for leisure activities like Levi. You would willingly kill just to have that.

    "I'll be heading off to the library for a while," you uttered under your breath. Levi turned his head towards your direction, slowly munching on the popcorn. "I might come home late so I'll bring the keys with me."

    He paused the movie momentarily to narrow his eyes at you. Levi looked at you from top to bottom, assessing and processing the current state you are in. Which was hell. You looked like a vampire that crawled out of your coffin after decades of isolation. Of all the years he and you had been roommate, Levi had practically memorised most of your mannerism and behaviour so much. And at the moment, he knew all to well that you would be, yet again, working yourself to the grave.

    With a sigh, Levi placed the bowl of popcorn on top of the coffee table before approaching you. "Can't you see yourself, idiot?"

    You scrunched up your nose in confusion. What does he mean by that?

    "When was the last time you ate?"

    You racked your brain for answers. When was it truly that last time you had a proper meal besides energy bars that you bought from the convenience store. You went silent for a moment, eyes cascading down.

    "I had instant noodles I think? Last night," you answered after a pregnant pause.

    "Then that means you have not eaten anything since this morning?"

    You only nodded in response, all too tired to argue back with him. All you wanted to do was to finally leave the apartment and resume your study session in the library. Where, in hopes, you could finally progress in.

    Levi clicked his tongue. No wonder you look like a living dead. You are barely getting any nutrition in your body at all! Being studious is a great thing—but being all too unforgiving and torturing one's body too much is an unacceptable habit.

    As swift as a fox, he snagged the keys from your hands. You, in your drained state, reacted poorly and sluggishly. Though, you gave him one ferocious glare.

    "Give it back, Levi." You held out your hand.

    "No. You should rest. You look like shit."

    "Give me back my keys. I'm fine!"

    Levi, much to your surprise, had a hint of worry in his eyes. Silence fell between you and him, eyes focused on each other. You thought of kicking him on the shin, then took the chance to grab the keys. But you find yourself unable to as your body slowly slumped over.

    You let out one tired sigh, eyes closing every now and then in drowsiness, but you can't give in. Not now. Not at least you'd finally understand and finish writing your notes. Still, exams is a couple of weeks away. Surely a brief break wouldn't hurt?

   You groaned, the floor beneath your feet swaying as you struggled to keep yourself upright. It was only then did you notice the ever growing itch in your throat which signifies tonsillitis, mucus flooding your nasal passages, and increased body temperature.

     "I'm fine. . ." you inhaled sharply. "Just—" you continued but was caught short when your knees buckled under your weight, causing you to lean forward. Luckily enough, Levi caught you just in the nick of time before you fell face first into the wooden floor.

     "Tch. Look at what you got yourself into," he huffed, palm pressing against your forehead. "You also have a fever, dumbass."

    Did you now? You let your head rest into his touch, relishing his cool touch against your flushed ones. Maybe you really need a rest.

   "How about you take a seat on the couch while I brew you a cup of tea?"

    "Sounds good. . ." you uttered under your breath.

    That said, Levi practically dragged your body towards the couch and helped you settle on it. Making sure that you are comfortable enough by placing pillows behind your head. The male crouched down to your level, bringing a hand up once again to your forehead to properly estimate your temperature this time.

    "Looks like a bad one. . ." he muttered.

    "You tell me. I feel like shit," you've managed to crack a joke despite your conditions. Levi rose his brow at you, shaking his head at your idiocy. Then you watched him as he removed his cotton sweatshirt that hung loosely on his figure. Suffice to say, you were beyond perplexed when Levi placed the article of clothing on top of your lap.

    "You're cold aren't you?" he shrugged his shoulders. "Wear that for the time being to keep you warm."

    That said, he soon disappeared inside the kitchen to perhaps brew you a cup of tea much to your delight. It is practically known that the male had an immense skill in brewing and perfecting the art of tea. And as his roommate, Levi practically forced you to learn how to brew yourself; mainly because he doesn't want you wasting precious tea leaves that are far too expensive to be wasted. You recalled the time spent with him, hours upon hours inside the kitchen while trying your best to not burn your hands as you, yet again, try to perfect boiling tea. Levi stood beside you, a scowl present on his face as he frowned at your blend.

    Do it again, he snarled. The temperature is not right.

    It was little moments such as those reminds you of how much of a stuck up bitch Levi is. Nonetheless, the male still have a special place in your heart as your roommate and perhaps crush.

    Gingerly holding his sweater in your hands, you took one deep whiff of his scent—despite mucus flooding your nose—relishing the soft floral scent of the detergent that he bought about a week ago. Yet, Levi's natural aroma gradually overflows your nasal cavity; refreshing and clean with a hint of musky scent. It was pure heaven.

    Blood rushed to your cheeks as you let his sweatshirt hug your body, encompassing you more with his scent. Truth to be told, it was your long time dream to wear one of Levi's clothing. Suppose it was the thought of you in his clothes that brings butterflies to your stomachs, or the pure concept of his smell flooding your senses. Either way, you liked it.

    "Hey. . ." Levi's voice boomed which slightly startled you. The male placed a mug full of tea on the coffee table before kneeling down and opening a pack of fever patch.

    "What flavor did you brew?" you mumbled.

    "Chamomile," Levi replied, brushing your hair away from your forehead. For a brief moment, he stopped to stare at your glossy eyes due to the fever. Small patches of sweat that peppered your skin that glistened slightly under the light. Not to mention your lips that he oh so long to get a taste of for months—but he wouldn't tell you that out loud. Red dusted his cheeks ever so lightly that you would've missed if it weren't for your keen attention to detail.

    Levi bit the insides of his cheeks, slapping himself internally to focus at the task at hand which it to place a fever patch on your forehead. That said, he carefully set it against your temples. Making sure that it is adhered on firmly as to not fall in case you tossed and turn in your sleep. A smile adorned your features as soon as the cool hydrogel rested against your skin. You mumbled a quick gratitude towards the male before snuggling deep into his sweatshirt.

    "Levi. . ." you started to which he hummed in response, helping you sit up. Then, the male gave you the mug with hot tea. Its heavenly aroma making you sigh in relax. "Come sit with me?" you asked, patting the space next to you.

    The male opened his mouth to argue; to refuse your request because he doesn't want to catch your germs and be sick himself. Though, with one look at your puppy-dog eyes and pouting lips, Levi knew that he wouldn't be able to resist you. "Fine. . ." he begrudgingly replied.

    You let out a small cheer of victory. Placing your head on top of his shoulder the minute he sat beside you. Even for just a moment—just for this day—you want to delve into your fantasies and revel in the company of the male. Levi looked at you from the corner of his eye, admiring how his sweatshirt that embraces your form. Due to him being quite short in stature, his clothes were not too big. So, naturally, most of his wardrobe would probably fit you. Which he has no complaints about.

    "Can we watch Kitchen nightmares?" you asked, taking one small sip of tea as to not burn your tongue.

    Levi shrugged, "Why not?" That said, he adhered to your request. Playing that one episode in the series that he knew you enjoyed watching despite the countless times you've already seen it.

    You relaxed back into the couch, letting more of your weight press against Levi as your hands cupped the warm mug in between. The brutal and fierce howls of criticism of Gordon Ramsey brings a small smile to your lips, and oddly enough, as well as Levi's. Watching Kitchen's Nightmares (as well as other shows that the iconic chef starred in) was a guilty pleasure, so to say, of both yours and the male's. There is just something so satisfying how the chef makes people humble down and admit their mistakes.

    One great thing that comes from watching his series was that Levi could learn a thing or two in cooking. Even though he was already great from the start. The male picks up a recipe or two just by watching the series, much to your satisfaction. Between you and Levi, he is the mother of the household, if you will. While you're just one lazy couch potato who would receive an ear full of scolding every now and then.

    Soon enough, you felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, yet you fought to keep them open. It was getting into the good part—the climax—of the episode and you didn't want to sleep through it. Though, you find yourself giving in and finally letting your eyes rest for once. You exhaled, rubbing your cheeks against Levi's shoulder blades in attempts to get more comfortable. The male shifted on the couch, allowing you to be cozy and warm with him beside you.

    In your dazed state, you swore that Levi slowly rest his head on top of yours. Nevertheless, you couldn't conclude if it was true since the sweet embrace of sleep consumed you. For the first time in that week, you finally had a good night's rest.

    Levi relaxed under your touch, finally relieved that you gave in and let your body get the rest it deserves after days upon days of continuous work. He contemplated whether to turn off the television so that the noise wouldn't bother you in your sleep, or keep it open since a part of him wants to finish the episode. Though, his thoughts were caught short when you murmured.

    "Levi. . ." you mumbled in your sleep, hands gripping his sweatshirt.

    "What?" he humored, despite knowing that you are in deep slumber and is probably sleep-talking.

    Then to his surprise, you whispered a phrase that he never anticipated would slip past your lips.

    "I love you. . ."

    He was taken a back, eyes wide while his mouth slightly hung open. Levi blinked once, then twice, trying to process if what he heard was real or was his imagination deceiving him.

    "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Levi said, testing to see if you were truly asleep or was just toying with him. When he concluded that you were—in fact—knocked out and catching some Z's, he breathed lowly the three words he oh so wanted to tell you for months.

    "I love you, too. Brat." He snaked his hand around yours, intertwining his fingers around your hand.

    Little did Levi know, you were half-awake during his confession.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot #aot x reader #snk #snk x reader #reader insert #asters fics

[thisisawonderfulusername]

let's save the world

season two, episode eight

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you have one final idea to get back to twenty-nineteen: finding yourselves

warnings: cursing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this took for fucking ever but i'm not even gonna apologize at this point because i'm ninety percent sure it will happen again. sorry in advanced. just be glad i did it, alright? anyways, please enjoy episode eight, i loved writing it, i don't know why i put it off for so long

“we were that close.” you whisper to yourself as you go up the stairs, “so close.”

the door to one of the rooms slams behind you as you quickly look through the cabinets, before finding a bottle of whiskey. the only thing you need right now.

you twist the cap off, tossing it to the side as you sit on the couch with a heavy sigh.

you can hear luther speaking as he presumably follows five up the steps, but you don’t focus too much on what he’s saying. something about making a new plan, which almost makes you laugh. no other plan would ever work, if this one didn’t. his family would never let that happen.

the door opens once again as five enters, slamming it shut and locking it before luther can come in behind him. “five!” the big man shouts outside of the door, knocking on it, “come to what?” a sigh follows shortly after, and you hear his steps recede, apparently giving up.

you look to five, holding the bottle out, “want some?”

when he takes it, you expect him to take a drink, not find the cap and twist it back on, “what are you doing?” he questions.

“what are you doing?” you shoot the question back, reaching for the bottle, “if you didn’t want any, you didn’t have to take it.”

he looks at you incredulously, holding it out of your reach, “we still have an apocalypse to stop! you can’t just be sitting in here drinking!”

at that, you let out a loud laugh, yet nothing about this is funny. “you’re kidding, right?” you raise an eyebrow, sinking into the cushions, “i’m done with that.”

setting the booze on the coffee table, his eyebrows furrow at you, “what do you mean? you can’t be done with it. we don’t have much time!”

“don’t you get it, five?” you lean forward as you look up at him, “we can’t stop this. no matter how hard we try, we’ll never be able to. there’s always something that gets in the way when we get seconds away from actually doing it. let’s face it, the world is against us, and this apocalypse is happening.” you sound defeated, and you hate hearing it. you never wanted to give up, to let the world get the best of you. it tried to before, and you persevered. but none of that matters anymore, because soon enough, you'll be nuked and your existence won't have mattered.

he’s shaking his head in disbelief, “no. no, it isn’t. you’re supposed to be the one helping me, y/n! we can still do it.”

“and what’s your plan this time? do you even have one?” you can feel the tears brimming your eyes, and you hate feeling this weak in front of him, but there was no stopping it now.

“i do.” he states, “but i need you to help me.”

sitting on the couch next to you, turned in your direction, he gently guides your eyes to his, his hand resting on your cheek. "i can't do this without you. i can't save the world if i don't have you to help me."

a tear escapes and you quickly wipe it away, sniffling as you gather yourself before you break down completely. "fine." you breathe.

-

you were currently in the kitchen, chugging down as much water as you could from a pitcher before passing it along to five. This plan was so, so stupid. he began to drink from it as well, and luther, who had been napping on the couch, entered.

“five, what…” he glances between the two of you, you putting baby powder anywhere on your body you deemed necessary, and to him, taking in a breath as he flipped the top closed on the pitcher. “are you guys okay?” he questions in confusion.

“we need to be hydrated.” he breathes out, and you hand him the baby powder once you were finished.

if it was possible, luther’s confusion grew, “what’s with the baby powder?”

“it’ll help with the itching.” you state, giving no further explanation.

“what itching? there’s itching? what the hell is going on here?” as five puts some of the powder in his pants, realization dawns on his face, “you do have a plan.”

grabbing his blazer, five sighs, “well, it’s a desperation move, but… since our brain-dead siblings are incapable of meeting a simple deadline, well- we have no choice.”

“no choice about what?” you follow him into the living room, flipping the watch you stole from the formerly sleeping man- since he no longer needed it- open.

“we have to find ourselves.”

luther is so stunned, trying to process it, that he doesn’t speak. “we just arrived in dallas fifteen minutes ago.” you state, closing the watch and sticking it back in your pocket.

“should i be worried about you guys?” luther finally asks, his eyebrows furrowing at the two of you.

“luther, if you recall,” five speaks as he begins to stretch, “we were sent to nineteen sixty-three on a job by the commission to make sure the president was assassinated.”

“oh!” luther starts to understand, “so, wait, your old self is out there.”

“precisely.”

“what, just walking around dallas?”

“walking around dallas with a briefcase that can get us home.” you tell him with a smile. now, if this plan didn’t work, you were truly screwed. of course, the older looking versions of yourselves won’t give up the briefcase so easily, but you know for a fact you can do it. and with that briefcase, there wouldn’t be a time limit. you could gather all of the siblings together and finally be rid of the apocalypse. maybe, just maybe, it will be the last that you have to deal with.

“oh, my god.” luther’s hands come together in front of him, “you are geniuses.”

“however, there are two significant problems with this plan.” five tells him, you nodding along, “problem number one: we are two trained assassins, arguably the most dangerous assassins in the space-time continuum. If we know ourselves, we’re not going to react kindly to bumping into us.”

you knew it sounded like you were giving yourselves a pat on the back, but he wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t true. and it definitely was.

“problem number two,” he paces, “this is the real fly in the ointment here: you’re not supposed to exist in close proximity to yourself in the same timeline. the side effects can be disastrous.”

luther seems as if he’s trying to process all of this, “side effects? what sort of side effects?”

“well, according to commission handbook chapter twenty-seven, subsection three-b, the seven stages in paradox psychosis are…”

“stage one: denial.” you begin counting off on your fingers,

“two: itching.” five looks to his brother,

“three: extreme thirst and urination,”

“four: excessive gas,”

“five: acute paranoia,”

“six: uncontrolled perspiration,”

“and seven:” you pause for a moment, dropping your hands, “homicidal rage.”

“homicidal rage?” luther questions, to which both of you confirm, “jeez, i don’t know. this maybe isn’t such a good idea.”

five begins to pace again, throwing his arms to the side, “it’s a hail mary. but what choice do we got, luther?”

leaning against the door frame, the large man shrugs, “i don’t know, you already seem a bit squirrely if i’m being honest.”

“listen luther, we’re gonna need you to help us get through this one, alright?” you stand in front of him, “we need… a spotter.”

“a spotter?”

“yeah,” you breathe out.

his eyebrows furrow, “what is that, like a wingman?”

“in case the paradox psychosis gets too severe,” five strides over, “we need you to help us stay on task, alright? so whatever happens, whatever we say, we need to get that briefcase. okay?”

“okay,” luther breathes.

“okay.” your shoulders relax.

both you and five turn and make your way to the steps, and you barely realize that luther is still at the doorway, staring in front of him. “luther, come on!”

“right.”

-

there’s an irish jig playing as you enter the bar, and chatter fills the air between the people inside, sitting at tables and at the stools along the bar countertop. you look around, skimming over all of the people, until you see them. or- you and five. it’s weird, seeing the older looking woman who sat next to the older looking five. you barely recognized them, since you had been looking at your thirteen year old selves for a while now.

“there we are.” five has spotted them as well. sitting at the bar, the briefcase on the raised wood that acted as a footrest between the two older versions of you.

“why don’t we just grab the briefcase and run?” luther asks.

“luther, we would never let that happen.” you tell him, looking up at him for a second, “we’re trained to guard those briefcases with our lives.”

“right.”

“plus, it’s the inherent paradox where this gets tricky.” five adds in. “we’re endangering our existence just being in the same room with ourselves.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

you roll your eyes, “luther, keep up. if our old selves don’t travel back to twenty-nineteen like we’re supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. we cease to exist. got it?”

“i… got it.” he doesn’t seem to, but you decide not to try to explain further and confuse him even more.

“so our best chance is to talk with them, to reason with them.” five rolls his shoulders back, “they’ll understand. trust me. i know us better than… better than i know us.” the sentence is confusing, but the point gets across.

as five reaches up to scratch his neck, luther is quick to point it out, “that’s stage two of paradox psychosis.” he whispers urgently.

“no, i didn’t.” five states, “i didn’t itch my neck.”

“denial is stage one.” the large man points out.

“let’s stay on task, shall we?” you wave towards the two of you sitting at the bar, and as you’re about to step forward, luther reaches his hand out to stop you.

“wait!” you look at him in a mix of confusion and annoyance, “maybe i should go first.”

“why?” five asks him, also confused.

“well, you’ll freak them out.” he motions at the two of you, “bumping into your own tiny doppelganger? they’ll lose their shit.” he looks to the older versions of you, “just, let me break the ice.”

five glances around, sighing, “okay.”

“okay.” luther breathes out slowly, and you watch as he approaches the two older yous. you’re not sure if you can trust him one hundred percent.

as he begins to speak, the two of you very quickly get confused and on guard. meanwhile, you unconsciously grab hold of five’s hand to approach. “nope! don’t freak out. no freak-outs. alright.”

as the large man slowly steps to the side, you see yourself- your old self- tense up at the sight of younger looking you. “hey there, stranger.” your five speaks up, and the two older yous are almost shaking in their shoes from the shock and confusion.

you swear you see fear in your own eyes. it’s a look you remember seeing when you first landed back in twenty-nineteen and looked in the mirror at the you that had gotten stuck in the apocalypse. the you that was stuck alone for years until the commission brought you back to five. it was jarring to you as well, at first.

you remember staring into your own eyes. the little girl who had held five’s hand as he discovered the full extent of his powers, until it disappeared from her grasp and she was left in a smoldering, crumbling world.

-

the five of you had gotten a table, and you sat across from your older self, gaze unwavering. out of the corner of your eye, you could see the two fives glaring at each other.

“well, isn’t this nice?” luther breaks the silent tension, “the five of us, together like this.”

“no.” all four of you speak in unison, and luther is clearly uncomfortable, almost squirming in his seat.

the old five doesn’t look away from himself as he begins to speak, “somebody explain to me how it is i’m having a pint of guinness with my younger self.”

“older, actually.” the five sitting next to you states, “i’m you, just fourteen days older.”

“i have pubic hair smarter than you.” the other you says coldly, her fingers laced together on the table in front of her, “how’s that possible?”

“i can explain,” the younger seeming boy responds, “you see, one hour from now, on the grassy knoll, before the president is killed, you break your contract with the commission.” he leans forward slightly, “i already know you’re thinking about it. all those years in the apocalypse, we never stopped worrying about our family. well today, you’re going to do something about it.” he sits up straighter.

“today, you are going to attempt to time travel back to twenty-nineteen. however, you are going to screw up the jump, and end up in this twip of a body.” he points to himself with his two thumbs. “trapped forever, small, pubescent.”

“okay.” the older one finally breaks his stare, shaking in his seat, “even if i was to believe you, what am i supposed to do, not jump?”

“no, no.” you break away from the eyes of yourself, “we need you to jump. if you don’t jump, we cease to exist.” you motion between yourself and your five, “what we need is for you to jump correctly.”

“i’m listening.”

“the first time through, i got the calculation wrong. that’s how we ended up in these bodies.” five begins to explain, “but now, i know the correct calculation.”

the other is almost on the edge of his seat in anticipation, “what is it?”

“he’ll tell you.” you tell him, causing his gaze to turn to you instead, “in exchange for the briefcase you’re holding under the table.”

“yeah, yeah.” luther speaks up from where he’s sitting, “so now, you go back to twenty-nineteen, as planned, but this time with the right math, so you remain a full grown man. in exchange for that briefcase that you no longer need.” he points to the space between the older yous where it rests, a smile on his face.

“timeline restored, paradox resolved.” five speaks, “everyone goes on, existing happily ever after.”

the older you finally breaks her silence, “that’s quite a bit to take in.”

everyone’s heads turn towards her, “what do you think?” five asks, glancing between the two of them.

“i think,” older five says, “i need to piss.” he promptly states, standing from his seat and grabbing the briefcase, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. older you quickly looks between all of you, before also standing up and heading in that direction as well. you have a feeling that they’ll be discussing the situation at hand.

once they disappear down the hall where the bathrooms are, luther breaks the short silence that fell between the three of you. “well, besides the flop sweat, i think that went pretty well, right?” you had barely noticed, but there was, in fact, beads of sweat on your face, and you grabbed one of the napkins to wipe it away while luther patted one to five’s face.

“no, there’s something…” five fidgets in his seat, “something doesn’t feel right about this.”

luther is confused, which you’ve noticed happens a lot. “what… what do you mean?”

agreeing with five’s sentiment, you shake your head, “i don’t trust them.”

“but… they’re you.” he states in confusion.

“exactly.” the two of you speak in unison.

“well… i’m going to go to the bathroom too… maybe talk to him?” it’s more of a question as he stands up before quickly scurrying away.

“they’re planning something.” you state, leaning back in your seat as you scratch the back of your neck.

nodding, five takes a drink from his glass, “we have to be ready for whatever it is. we’re dangerous.”

“very.”

-

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs @andreasworlsboring101​ @lunylovelovegood

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

let’s save the world: @aspiringwriter1 @thetrashypanda423 @lilacs-lavender @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @bts-chub @theoriginalkat @flowertoty @whenyouwantdeath @ot7purple @purblerain @megasimpleplan4ever @whenyouregrungeaff @dumdumsun @malfovs @hxney-lemcn @frnks-stuff @imwaytootires @avovada @badwolf00593 @dumdumsun @zero2461

#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five #five hargreeves #number five #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader

[ola-elaina]

OUT FOR BLOOD

Summary: arvin gets revenge for y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: murder. implied sexual abuse. angst.

Arvin craned his neck, pulling his cap further down his eyes as he watched Deborah and Dennis, the sextons, lock up the front of the church.

He heaved a deep sigh, coming out of his hiding spot as his eyes trailed their figures walking up to their quarters then landed to the direction leading to the preacher’s room at the back of the building.

His mind was made up. It had to stop. The rumors were not just rumors. The nasty things that the preacher has been doing behind the townspeople’s back were terrorizing. And the townspeople turning a blind eye to it were revolting.

No more victims, Arvin thought to himself. His finger grazing on the cold metal in his hand.

No one else deserves to have the same fate as you did. You did not deserve it. Not you. Not his dearest Y/N.

Anger burned in Arvin’s chest as the image of your horrified eyes staring back at him popped up in his mind. He trudged straight to the back door of the church like a man on a mission.

“No Y/N today?” Mr. O’Connor asked but his eyes on his wife coming out of the backdoor of the bake shop kitchen. He wiped his motor oil-stained hands with a rug as his eyes travelled to Arvin who slid out under the pick-up truck they were working on.

The two of you became close to the old couple after you met them during a drive organized by the church. They also had a bake shop that supplies the town’s bread consumption. Mrs. O’Connor makes the best bread and pastries. You didn’t know anybody in town that hasn't tried her baked goods.

The O’Connors were lovely. Always ready to lend a hand.

You and Arvin would come to the O’Connor’s every weekend. Arvin helps George with his work in the automobile repair shop while you join Teresa bake in the kitchen.

“No.” Arvin replied as he sat up. Mrs. O’Connor reached the two of them, handing them each a cup of water.

“I missed her today.” She remarked. A frown appeared on her face as she attempted to wrap an arm around her husband’s waist. But he moved away, the smile of his face contrasting to his wife’s. He immediately gestured to his stained clothes.

A grin crept up on Arvin’s face as he gazed at the couple in front of him — shifting on the car creeper he was sitting on.

“She volunteered with Lenora and Melissa for general cleaning of the church.”

“Oh, what a sweetheart.” She cooed. “Does that girl ever stop helping?”

“Guess not. It’s what keeps her perpetuating.”

The couple chuckled.

“Her mother ordered some pies. Hand these to her if you don’t mind.” Mrs. O’Connor handed Arvin the box as he stood up.

“‘Course not.”

“And here, for you and your grandmother.” She placed another box on top of the pie.

“You didn’t have to bother.”

 She shook her head. “None sense. I heard she felt quite ill these past few days. I hope her favorite pastry would help her feel better.”

Arvin beamed. “Thank you.” He bowed his head in gratitude, letting him catch a glance at his watch.

6:10. It reads.

“I better get going.” Arvin added. “I promised Y/N I’d go by their house at 6.”

“Well, it’s already a little after 6. You better get going.”

Arvin nodded. Gathering his stuff as he readied himself to leave.

“Thanks for the goods Mrs. O’Connor!” He waved them goodbye which the couple returned. “I’ll make sure to bring Y/N next time!”

Ding. Diiiing.

The sound of the doorbell rang in Arvin’s ear as he stood outside your house.

Ding. Diiiing.

He rang again. No answer.

Arvin was about to ring it again when it swung open. Revealing a worried Mrs. L/N, a phone in her hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh, Arvin! It’s you!” She remarked in relief.

“Good afternoon, Y/M/N. Is Y/N there?”

The glee in her face suddenly dropped. “She’s not with you?”

He shook his head ‘no’.

Her brow knitted tight. “I called Deborah, but she said she hasn’t seen Y/N since three hours ago.”

“Hmmm. She told me to meet her here. Maybe she’s at Melissa’s. Don’t worry about it, Y/M/N. I’ll go see.” He wondered. “By the way, Mrs. O’Connor wanted to give these to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Arvin!”

Arvin bobbed his head. “I’ll head to the Hall’s now.”

“Be safe!” She called out.

“Hey, Russell!”

Arvin’s hair was blowing with the wind as he rode his bike on his way to the Hall’s when he heard his name being called.

Travis.

A boy he had shared a number of classes with last year. His hair was a mop of golden-brown hair, freckles littered his cheeks, lanky and stood a few inches over Arvin.

“Hey.” He stopped in front of him. “Did you happen to see Y/N today?”

“Y/N?”

Arvin nodded.

“I saw her pass by an hour ago.” His brows furrowed, trying to recall seeing you. “I called out to her, but she ignored me. Hmm, she probably didn’t hear me. She was walking on the other side of the road.” He pointed, making Arvin look back to its direction.

“But then she was walking really slow. I kept calling her name, but she never turned to me once. She seemed sad, preoccupied.” Travis continued to ramble.

“Was she alone?”

“Uhuh.”

“Did you see where she went?”

“She was heading to the lake's direction.”

“Alright, thanks!” Without thinking twice, Arvin quickly pedaled on his bike leaving Trevor behind.

A sigh of relief left Arvin’s lips when he saw your figure sitting against the oak tree, facing the lake. The sun setting in front of you, it’s orange rays hitting reflecting on your skin.

He smiled, making a beeline towards you.

“Hey, Y/N—“

Arvin’s greeting was cut short when he saw your shoulder shake. Your white dress was sopping, skin almost see through. Your knees were pressed up against your chest, face resting on them as you bawled your eyes out.

As he got closer, your sobs became clearer. Worry stirred in Arvin’s chest, running towards you — he dropped a knee to the ground covered with wilted leaves, beside you.

“Hey... Y/N, what happen—“

You jumped as you felt his hand touch your damp bare arms. You forced it out of his hold which took him aback. When your red-rimmed tear-filled eyes met with his wide ones, you relaxed a bit. Dropping your gaze to the ground.

“Are you... okay?” Arvin took his jacket off and wrapped it around you. He guided your face gently in his hand to look back up at him.

“What’s the matter?” He queried again.

Shame washed over you as the events that unfolded hours ago evoked in your mind. You shook your head furiously Body shivering as you remembered... the preacher.

You felt scared. Helpless. Dirty.

You went to the lake in hopes to take it away. You wanted to wash it off. Submerging yourself in water as you broke down, fingertips rubbing against your skin red — leaving scratches — until it felt numb.

The memory... the feeling... was so vivid in your mind.

He earned your trust. Made you believe you could trust him. Wooed you.

And you fell straight into his trap.

How can you be so stupid?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The word echoed in your mind repeatedly. You only cried harder as Arvin took you in his arms.

“I resisted...” You muttered but mostly to yourself, voice coming out little.

“What?” Arvin pulled his head back to look at you, but you buried your head on the crook of his neck.

“I resisted! I resisted, Arvin. I—I—“ You moved away but his hands remained around you securely — still confused as to what you were talking about.

“Calm down, Y/N. Tell me what happened.”

Your hands balled into fists, collecting the front of his shirt. Pulling him closer to you. “I didn’t want it to happen.” Shaking your head violently. “I wanted to stop him! I tried to stop him!” You cried.

“What are you talking about Y/N?”

“...the preacher.” You whispered.

Arvin knocked on a dark wooden door then slid his free hand in his jean pocket while the other went behind his back. A slow shuffling sound was heard from the other side.

His hand shook as his thumb fiddled.

Seconds later, the door opened revealing the preacher. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants; his hair was a mess. Eyelids droopy, showing he was disturbed from his sleep.

A ghost of a smirk flashed on the preacher’s face. Arvin’s hand gripped tighter around the revolver behind his back. Finger itching to pull the trigger.

The preacher rubbed his right eye before saying, “Good evening, Arvin. What can I do for yo—“

But before he could finish his remark, Arvin pulled out the gun from behind his back. Shooting the preacher point blank.

A/N: thanks for reading! for requests, taglists + updated masterlist, check out my pinned post <3

permanent taglist:

@dummiesshort​ / @ladykxxx08​ / @perspectiveparker​ / @dreamofaprilsblog​

#arvin russell #tom holland #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell angst #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tdatt #the devil all the time

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 XVI

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence/death, trauma, allusions to torture.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king proves himself and the reader must accept her fate.

Note: Welcome back, King Loki. Y’all better be ready because our little mouse will never stop suffering.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You felt like you were suffocating, slowly under a heap of rocks. Your return to the palace was a blur. You barely recalled the ride in the carriage or the flights of stairs between you and the chambers. 

You were entirely consumed by your memories and their voices; Magnus, broken before the court, confessing his crimes. Thor, angry and brutal as ever, shouting back at the people as they cried out at their traitorous prince. Neither gave you peace; they were only trapped animals waiting to break free and lash out again.

Hal was a spot in your vision. His voice tickled your ears but you couldn’t answer him as you laid across the bed, clutching a pillow as you rocked frantically. As you calmed, spent from your fit, you rested on your side and quivered every now and then. The sobs would not come, only rattling breaths that seized your whole body.

Time slaked away like layers of ice melting into a puddle. The curtains were drawn back and revealed the shift of sunlight. A pale grey darkened to a dull slate and cast shadows around you, looming over you like the monsters in your mind.

You flinched as you heard the door, the hinges creaked and your fingers sank deep into the feather pillow. Hal greeted the king and firm footsteps marched across the floorboards. Loki’s figure appeared at the edge of your sight as you laid with your back to the hearth. He sighed as he came up behind you and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“You left rather suddenly,” he said as his hand settled on your side. You winced and hugged the pillow tighter. You hid your face against it, the feathers poking through and causing your cheeks to itch. “Mouse…”

You whimpered and curled your legs up. What had this man done to you that was any different than those two savages? You still bore the scars of his switch across your back and your only shield was the life growing in your stomach. It was him who had brought you to this; who had sentenced you to live as a piece of a flesh; who had exposed you to the barbarity of his kin and kith.

“Why?” You asked softly as you turned your head against the pillow.

“I thought… I thought you would want to see vengeance done.” He said sternly. “To see that I’ve brought those beasts to justice.”

You sniffed and shook your head. “I never wanted to see them again… I…” You shrugged and exhaled weakly. 

“I did it for you, Mouse. I dragged that animal, Magnus, down to my dungeons and cut his flesh until he did confess. I watched his blood weep from his flesh and reminded him of what he'd done to you. I made him tremble at my hands. For you.” He sneered. “I’d do it again.”

“You did it for you. For your pride.” You uttered. “You’ve never done anything for me or any other. It is all for you. They humiliated you, took your plaything, kept from you your pleasures. It isn’t about me, it is about what I can do for you.” You wiggled away from his touch, “Do not lie to me, it not only makes me a fool, but you as well.”

“Do not presume to know my will,” he snarled, “Do not talk to me as if I am your subject and not the other way around. And look at me--” He grabbed your chin and forced you onto your back, “When you speak to me, mouse.”

You blinked as a lump lodged in your throat and let the pillow fall away from you. You braced yourself for what he would do next. You remembered the noise of the hinges, the heavy footsteps, the metal against your wrists, the stony touch of loveless beings, the violent claims to your body. 

You grabbed the king’s arm and began to flail. “No, no, no,” You exclaimed, “Please--”

“Gods,” Loki said in exasperation, “Hal! Hal!” You heard softer soles on the boards, “Fetch Birger. Now.”

Loki wriggled his arm from your grasp and grabbed your shoulders. He pinned you down as you kicked out and clawed at the air. “Mouse, shhhh. Mouse!”

“No! No! No!” Your hand flew up and struck Loki’s jaw. He grunted and shook away the jolt.

He struggled with you until the door sounded again and there was a clatter of footsteps across the front chamber. Loki climbed over you as the physician appeared and touched your forehead.

“I don’t know what has come over her.” Loki said, “She has these… episodes.”

“Ah, well she is with child and only just returned from an immense situation. Her nerves are split.” Birgir rubbed your cheek calmingly, “Dear, tell me five things you can see.”

“No, no, no,” you chanted.

“Five things, dear. Five things you can see.” He urged.

“The-- The bedpost…” You wisped, “Y-Your cap… Hal… The ceiling… A chair…”

“Very well, dear, and five thing, “Three things you can feel.”

“Y-Y-Your hand,” you touched the back of his hand, “The bed…” Your eyes flicked back and forth, “The fire.”

“Great, great,” he took your hand gently, “One thing you can smell.”

“The wood. Burning wood.” You gulped.

Birger nodded and smiled at you gently. “Hal, my boy, bring my chest.”

“What is wrong with her?” The king knelt on the mattress beside you.

“I told you. It is stress.” Birger said staunchly and squinted at the king, “Have you…”

“Not in the last days.” Loki admitted.

“But since her return?” The physician prodded. The king rolled his eyes and glanced away tellingly. “And you expect you to be as she was after all that? Do you even know all that happened to her?”

“She does not speak of it.” The king huffed.

“And why should she? To you?”

“You tread a dangerous path, Birger,” Loki warned.

Birger tutted and caressed the back of your hand. “Alright, I’ll do what I can.”

“You have something which can restrain her,” Loki said, “That can calm her.”

“As her condition stands, not much.” Birger stood as Hal approached with his chest, “It is better if she is kept calm. You can burn lavender--”

“No, you will sedate her so she will sleep,” Loki ordered, “I’ve pressing matters and little energy or time for this nonsense.”

“With respect, your majesty, this nonsense is as much to do with you as it is your brother or his accomplice,” Birger insisted, “It will persist.”

“So be it,” Loki pushed himself off the bed, “Find one of your vials and do your duty. She needs sleep, not quackery.” Birger let out a long breath and tapped his fingers on the lip of the chest. “Well, you’ve something else to say?” The king challenged.

“No, your majesty,” Birger looked into his chest and stirred through the contents, “Boy, bring some milk for the woman.”

Your body was limp across the bed, suddenly without strength as you listened to the argument. It was your fault. All of it. If you could just control yourself. If you weren’t so weak and stupid.

“When you finish, you will go.” Loki neared the door. “And do not bother me on your exit.”

The king disappeared through the doorway and you looked up at Birger as he pulled out a glass vial. You saw the irritation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Why?” He asked bluntly, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

You clamped your lips shut and stared at the top of the bedpost. Hal returned and handed a cup of milk to Birger. The physician mixed in drops of the tincture and sat to hand it to you. You pushed yourself up and took it from him.

“Perhaps it is better you sleep for a time,” Birger said. “Are you eating well?”

“Yes, a lot,” you assured him and sipped the thick milk.

“Well, you make sure you keep on. Rest as much as you can.” He looked to Hal, “See if the boy is permitted to take you on walks. You must keep active as you can.”

You nodded and swallowed the milk tainted with the odd flavour of the medicine.

“Is the king rough with you? As he was before?”

You shook your head as you offered the empty cup. “Not since…” You nodded to your stomach.

“Good, good,” Birger set the cup aside and packed up his chest. “Take care, dear. I will be look in as I can.” He hauled his chest up and clapped Hal’s shoulder, “And boy, you will keep her well in my absence.”

“On my honour,” Hal promised and followed the physician to the door.

You felt heavy as you laid back and listened to Birger’s departure. The king was just in the next chamber and you heard the flutter of pages. Hal’s figure lingered as your eyelids shut and you sank down into the abyss. You were smothered by a sleep deeper than any you’d known in months.

🐍

You weren’t certain how long you slept. You woke in a fog. It was dark but for the glow of the fire and the shapes around you, the furniture shroud in grey, seemed distant and yet close. You felt light and airy and your body felt detached from your thoughts.

You lifted your head and peered around, trying to focus on the chair before the hearth. A wraith sat in it and as you sat up, you realised it was the king. You giggled and let the blankets fall away from your shoulders. He glanced over at you and tilted his head as the firelight limned his features.

“Mouse?” He said quizzically.

“Looookiiiii,” you sang as you turned your legs over the edge. He was visibly aghast at your use of his name. You only laughed again as you stood and wobbled. “Such an odd name.”

“Is it?” He lowered his brows and carefully stood to face you, “You should stay, mouse.”

“No, I’m not tired,” you argued and gave a long yawn. “I feel alive!”

“You can barely stay on your feet,” he rushed forward as you stumbled and caught you. “Come on, to bed with you.”

“Wouldn’t you like that!” You snapped and wriggled in his grasp. “But I’m hungry.”

“You’re deluded,” he rebuked.

You laughed and continued to struggle with him. “I’m perfectly well,” you slapped his chest, “I’m just…” You looked down as your stomach brushed against him and your mouth fell open. “Oh, gods…” You rubbed your middle, “I’ve already eaten too much!”

“No, mouse,” you heard a sliver of amusement in his tone, “You… you are just fine.”

“I’m fat!” You pouted and glared up at him. “Why am I so fat?”

He barely withheld a snicker and took your hand daintily. “I have some biscuits. Would you like one?”

“I couldn’t…” You shook your head as you felt your stomach. “I’m already-- but I am hungry. Just one, just one.”

“Well, you must sit if you want one,” he chided. “Understood, mouse?”

“Mouse! Mouse!” You mocked. “I hate that name. I am not a mouse.”

“Alright,” he nudged you back to the bed and you sat heavily, “Then what are you?”

“Hungry. I told you.” You crossed your arms. “Who are you?”

He grinned and looked around as if confused. “It is me, Loki.”

“Your nose is big,” you said sharply. 

“Thank you,” he said rigidly. “Just wait here.”

He left you and returned with a small box. He took out a biscuit with currants baked into it and held it out. He set the box aside and sat beside you as you eyed the treat.

“What is it?”

“It’s a biscuit,” he said curtly. “Like I said.”

“Sure, sure,” you smelled it and cautiously took a bite, “Suppose it tastes like a biscuit.”

He was quiet. You flinched as you felt his hand on your back suddenly. He rubbed a circle there as you chewed and you clapped the crumbs from your hands as you finished.

“Good?” He asked.

“I told you,” you grabbed his arm and shoved it away. “No.”

He dropped his arm and nodded. He watched you as you balled your hands in fists. You stood and stomped like a child around the room.

“As good as it feels, no, no, no!” You swept your finger through the air. “But perhaps…” You stopped and thought for a moment, “No! No!” You sneered at him. “I don’t want your royal cock tonight, sir!”

At last he chuckled and you were startled by the noise. His features contorted in his mirth and you watched him with wide eyes. He stood and neared you slowly. He reached out tentatively and touched your arms.

“Fine. Not tonight.” He assured you. “But you must lay back down.”

“Why?” You quivered and looked at your body again, “Are my legs broken?”

He smirked and shook his head. “No, because it is the middle of the night.”

You frowned. “Oh.”

“So, bed?” He asked.

“Wait!” You stopped him.

“What is it now?” He sniffed.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. 

“Right,” he said and calmly led you back to the bed. “Time to sleep, mouse.”

“Hmmpf,” you grumbled at the pet name and let him lay you across the bed. “I’m not tired.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He taunted as you yawned again into your hand.

“No,” you argued and your eyes closed. “Not at all.”

“Not at all,” he echoed as he pulled the blankets over you.

He sat with you until you drifted off again though you were barely aware of him. You fell back into the warmth of the bed and the haze of your mind. The peculiar scene blending in with your senseless dreams.

🐍

You awoke facing the king. He slumbered beside you, his pale features unmarred by his waking thoughts. Your head was fuzzy and your limbs heavy. You sat up slowly and wiped the sleep from your eyes. The events of the days before slowly came back to you but did not hit you with the same force. You were anxious to think of Thor and Magnus but not terrified.

Loki groaned and reached out to touch your leg, as if assuring himself of your presence, as he stirred. You watched his long fingers as he squeezed you through the blankets and opened his eyes.

“Mouse,” he voice was hoarse as he retracted his hand and swept his dark hair back. “Is there something the matter?”

You shook your head and looked around. You didn’t like how comfortable you felt. You recalled his callous words the day before during your panic and all those times before he had been unkind. How could he sleep beside you as he would a wife? A wife…

You turned your back to him and evaded his reach again as you stood. You hugged yourself as you neared the dwindling fire and shivered. You heard the mattress move beneath him but he did not rise. You looked to the ceiling as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“Why won’t you give me an answer?” You asked.

“Excuse me?”

“What is to become of me when your wife is here?” You spun back to face him. He sprawled across the mattress as his shoulders and chest were bare above them. “I know this… will change. And I know once this babe is born, you will be done with me or cruel as you were before.”

His face darkened but he made no move to rise. He exhaled, a low growl, and rubbed his forehead.

“I needn’t tell you anything more than you need to know.” He sneered. “I will do whatever is best at the time.”

You gritted your teeth in frustration. You hated his riddles. You weren’t going to get an answer.

“My wife will do whatever I wish of her. And when I have a child on her, then you and the bastard will be of little bother.” He uttered. “And when you are ready, you will return to your original duty.”

Your chest knotted and your stomach grumbled painfully. Your anxiety mixed with your hunger and made your core a pit.

“And the child? I am to carry it to some unknown fate?”

“My child. I shall keep it safe.”

“And me?”

“You are its mother. But you are mine, first and foremost.” He bent his arms behind his head. “You will serve me before the child.”

You scowled in disgust but said nothing. He watched you and slipped his hand beneath the blankets.

“I will have a nursemaid for you. You needn’t worry for the child’s health.” He cooed.

“And my own? Do you care?”

He scoffed. “I’ve provided you with shelter, with sustenance, with a physician for your ailments. I’ve seen you well and I ask little in return.” He declared. “Remind yourself again that you are not my wife.”

“Yes, I am your whore. I am aware.” You hissed. “But you do seem to forget yourself.”

“I forget myself?” He sat up. “Oh, let us put things straight.”

You staggered backwards as he was off the bed in an instant. He seized your arm and you struggled with him as he tried to drag you back with him. 

“The child!” You cried.

“Will be well,” he snarled as he grabbed a hank of your hair and twisted your neck painfully. “Come on, mouse, you want things to be as they were.”

“Stop! I only--”

He sat and you lurched against him. He pushed you back and forced you down to your knees and drew you between his own. His cock twitched and hardened slowly as he clung to you. You pushed on his thighs and wrestled with him as he gripped your jaw.

“My patience for you is spent,” he spat as he shoved your head into his lap. “Open up, whore.”

“Please--”

“Let me give you your answer.” He bit out. “When you have born my bastard, I will use those parts of you unruined by its passage.” He squeezed until you gasped and forced his tip into your mouth. “I shall have my wife’s cunt and your mouth.”

You gurgled as he pushed against the back of your throat and slid down it. You gagged and he pulled you back. 

“Breathe,” he warned, “You don’t want to hurt the child.”

He forced you back down and you clawed at his sides. He moved your head steadily, up and down his length until he was entirely hard. You were dizzy and helpless against him. His groans and grunts added to the noise of you in his mouth and he clutched your head tighter.

He fucked your mouth until you were gasping and gulping around him. He wrenched you off of him suddenly and stroked himself to his climax, his seed stringing across your face. He released you and you fell back in a heap. He stood and stepped around you without concern.

“That is what you will be. Always.” He barked as he crossed the room. “Mine. To do with as I please.”

🐍

The days that followed were frigid and fraught. You could not forget that morning as the king’s former disposition returned fully. He left you in the morning without disturbance and you bided the hours silently, barely aware of Hal as he tried to cheer you. When Loki returned, the boy was sent away. He didn’t speak, only sat and stewed in whatever blight had angered him that day.

And when he wanted you, he had you. Hand, mouth, or cunt. You bore it and hid yourself under the covers when it was done. 

Another week gone and Hal announced that the verdict had been dealt. Loki hadn’t said and you hadn’t dared to ask. You listened as the boy explained how the jury and judges had found Thor guilty and condemned him to death by the sword. Magnus, however, was to be hung like a common criminal.

But that did not mean you would be without a villain. Loki’s moods assured you that nothing had changed at all. It assured you that your life would be as it ever was. That the fate he’d promised you down in that dungeon would come to pass. You would never escape him and perhaps, though you’d not realised it, your time with Thor and Magnus could have been your only hope at an eventual end to the agony.

You sat in limbo. You could hardly believe that they would die and yet, you feared the future beyond. For all the certainty of their sentences, yours was still frightfully abstract. You could not decide if you were appeased by their demise or envious of it.

Your inner strife was interrupted as Hal stood suddenly and you turned to watch the door open. The boy bowed to the king as he entered, clothed in fur and his horned crown. You stood and the king looked between the two of you. He raised his chin and looked down his nose.

“Get her a cloak and boots,” he demanded, “You will accompany us to the green.”

“The green? Why--”

“Gird your tongue, woman,” Loki demanded. “Haven’t you asked enough questions?”

Hal glanced at you wistfully but did as he was told. He helped you into the fur-trimmed cloak and you pulled the hood up as he helped you step into the boots and laced them tightly. Hal snatched up his own cap as he followed you and the king into the corridor.

You walked behind Loki and his guards, Hal was at your side and foreboding set deep in your stomach. You could guess at the event on the green though you hoped it wasn’t as you expected.

You came out into the blustery winter light and a crowd gathered around a stage erected over the white yard. Just before the walls of Boulder Tower, housed tight within the borders of the palace, a platform stood awaiting the executioner and his victim. You stopped short and Hal quickly caught your elbow and urged you on. The king peered over his shoulder in a wordless reproach.

The people parted as the monarch approached and you were diverted into the crowd of onlookers by another armored man. You went unnoticed as the king passed to the front of the audience and you stood alone with the steely sentinel.

A hush went over the crowd as the king stood with his head high. The hooded executioner came out onto the stage and waited by the lever. Armor clinked and announced the arrival of the criminal before he appeared. Magnus had only rags wrapped around his feet and shreds of clothing barely hanging from his form.

He twitched nervously but showed little emotion as he was herded up the steps. The hooded man came forward to wrap the noose around his neck and a holy man offered muttered prayers to the condemned.

You froze as you gaped up at the scene. It felt like a horrid nightmare. The prisoner shrugged away the holy man and strained against the rope. He looked across the green and his eyes narrowed at the king stood among the masses.

“Fuck the king!” He shouted and the lever was pulled suddenly.

The heavy body plummeted downward and all could hear the crack of his neck above their gasps. It was a sickly sound that made your legs weak. You saw Hal, close to the king’s shoulder, lower his head and a few onlookers swayed before they fainted. You felt queasy but did not waver.

You only remained as you were as slowly, those who still had sense, roused those in shock and dispersed. Those who had fallen were carried away by their companions and you still did not move. It was only as the king’s figure retreated that you were woken from your trance.

“Shall I have his skull boiled and brought to you?” He asked as he neared with his guards in tow. You shook your head and looked away from him. Your eyes stung. “Do not act as if I’m the same as they were,” he lowered his voice as he leaned in. “They would’ve killed you and the child. Where do you think they were taking you?”

You shivered and pulled your hood low to hide your distress. Loki let out a breath that clouded before him in the cold. Snow crunched as an unseen figure neared and another armoured man came up breathlessly. You peeked from beneath your cloak and king frowned at the guard’s frantic energy.

“What is it now?” He poked the guard’s breastplate harshly.

“Your majesty,” the man caught his breath in rasps, “The prince--”

“What of my brother?” Loki tensed and fidgeted as he glared at the guard.

“He is gone. He has escaped.” The guard announced. “He--”

“What do you mean he is gone?!” Loki seized the guard by the mail that poked up around his cowl. “How could he be gone?”

“It seems there was a plot. Lord Fandral and his ilk--”

“Fuck!” Loki shoved away the man and punched his palm. “Fuck!!!” He shouted and looked around at the liveried guards, “Well, you fools, go find them!”

#loki #dark!loki #dark loki #loki x reader #the bitch is back #series #by the king's hand #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #au #medieval au #magnus #dark!thor #dark thor #thro #king!loki

[dearkusuo]

Ch. 3 ☆ Last Christmas

Synopsis: You were intent on avoiding your ex-boyfriend all of winter break, however, your mom and her best friend had other plans lined up for you.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x reader

Tags: college au, fluff, angst

Word Count: 1.5k

m.list ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 2 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 3 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 4

Your state of consciousness was hurriedly slipping from your body as you slouched tiredly on your neighbour’s couch. A week had already passed since you went to the mall with Kusuo and every day since then, your mother would drag you to accompany her to the house next door. She also made it her mission to get you out of bed at ungodly hours that were too early for your liking.

"You look like you just woke up," Kuusuke remarked. He took a seat beside you, observing your eyes fluttering shut as you stifled a yawn. Probably because you did.

“It’s always a pleasure talking with you, Kuusuke,” you snarked.

"If you like me that much, then why don't you visit more often?” he asked, laughing gaudily at your sarcastic retort, “You don't even come by during college breaks."

"I don't use the school dorms anymore since I rent an apartment now. There’s no need for me to come back here unless there’s a special occasion," you pointed out. Although you were thinking about visiting a lot less if it meant you wouldn’t have to see the blond-haired man as much.

"But still, you should return home more frequently otherwise, Kusuo will get sad again.”

"What does he have to do with any of this?" you wondered. The sluggishness abruptly left your system as you sat up straight, not bothering to hide the curiosity in your tone. Kuusuke grinned slyly as you visibly perked up at the mention of his brother. You shouldn’t have been so excited to talk about him.

"The last time I visited was around summertime. I could guess pretty easily that he was disappointed you weren't coming back for the break."

You couldn’t even bring yourself to pay attention to the rest of Kuusuke’s mindless chatter. The corners of your lips twitched up the slightest bit. You shouldn’t have been happy that he wanted to see you.

A flash of pink hair reached the corner of your eye. Kusuo approached you two, focusing his gaze on his older brother as he thought out, ‘You need to stop harassing people.’ 

“Kusuo, you need to be more open with your feelings or else people won’t know what you want,” Kuusuke advised.

He only glared at his older brother in response. The red tint on the tips of his ears was barely noticeable that you almost missed it.

“Kuusuke, can you help us out?” Mrs. Saiki called out, gesturing to your mom and herself. “We’re going out to buy some groceries for the food we’re cooking tomorrow.”

Your mother commanded you to help set up the rest of the decorations while they were gone after the blond man agreed. The two women left hurriedly, rushing Kuusuke out with them and leaving you alone with your ex.

Kusuo was already lifting and hooking up the decorations on the walls and over the furniture when you glanced at him. You stood up from the couch, ready to help out where needed, even if he could finish faster by himself.

‘You don’t have to help if you know I can do this alone.’ 

You shook your head in refusal, stating, “I’d feel bad if you did everything.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that it was fondness gleaming in his eyes. Neither one of you said anything else, choosing to work in a comfortable silence you learned to grow used to again since the end of your relationship. It took at least an hour to finish the setup, leaving you tired from the constant moving.

There were still a lot of things that had to be done for the party, you noted, sitting back on the couch with Kusuo beside you. You haven’t even wrapped up the presents you meant to give away.

Your eyes widened in realization as you remembered the gift you meant to throw out, stored in your desk drawer. You tapped a finger to your chin as you deliberated on what to do with it. It seemed like a waste to just discard it. Besides, Kusuo probably already knew what you were thinking about, so you might as well hand it over to him.

Kusuo turned his head around expectantly as he waited for you to voice out your thoughts, but you panicked, deciding to ask him a different question instead, "What were you gonna get me last year?" You were curious to know what he would have given you if you didn’t break up.

A few seconds passed before he responded, 'I bought two tickets for a trip to Okinawa. One for you and one for me.'

You tilted your head to one side, wondering if you heard him right. To say you were shocked would have been an understatement. You couldn’t recall him ever making a gesture as grand as that.

"Why?"

'I thought it would make you happy because we didn't get to spend much time together last year.'

You felt a lump growing in your throat, touched that he cared about your happiness. Kusuo was much more considerate towards you during the last few days that passed, less indifferent than he used to be and more open. He changed a lot- no, he’s always been very caring in his own way. You just failed to see it until now.

Your complexion hardened as you regained your composure. “What’s taking them so long?” you wondered, changing the subject before you could let your emotions get to you.

‘They’re doing it on purpose.’ Kusuo thought.

“Doing what on purpose?”

‘Leaving us alone.’

You figured it was strange that you almost always ended up alone with Kusuo, but your mother would constantly deny your suspicions whenever you asked her. “And why would they do that?” At the back of your mind, you had a vague guess of what their intentions were.

‘They want us to get back together.’

You snorted, throwing your head back against the head of the couch. How typical of your meddling mother. What good was that gonna do?

‘That’s all you have to say about it?’

“What else should I say?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at Kusuo with your arms crossed over your chest.

He leaned over your slumped form, his shoulder barely brushing against yours. ‘If I asked you right now, would you consider giving me another chance?’ You stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Do you want to get back together?’ 

Silence enveloped you, save for the heavy beating of your heart. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as he leaned in closer to you, gazing at you like a man finding solace after a lifetime of pain. He already knew what you were going to say. You took a shaky breath, your answer tumbling out of your lips unthinkingly, “Y-”

The lock on the front door clicked resoundingly around the room, alarming you of your mother and neighbours’ return. You pulled away from Kusuo as the sound of shuffling feet echoed.

“We’re back. Are you guys done?” your mother beamed, walking into the living room with Kuusuke and Mrs. Saiki trailing behind her.

“Uh, I’m actually feeling pretty tired, so I’m gonna head back.” Standing from your seat, you politely excused yourself out of the house before anyone can protest. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back as you shut the door, ignoring the erratic thumping in your chest.

The marathon of Christmas movies proved to be rather effective in distracting you from the events that happened in the afternoon. You hardly even thought about Kusuo as you laid down on your couch, limbs sprawled all over.

The creak of the front door opening caused you to sit up from your position. Your mother barged in the house, plopping down to take a seat beside you.

 A quick glance at the clock indicated it was already early in the evening. “Took you long enough,” you muttered.

“Well, things might have gone faster if you stayed to help out,” she retorted, causing you to roll your eyes at her playfully. “Did something happen to you and Kusuo while we were gone?”

Suddenly, all you could think about was the look of longing in Kusuo’s violet eyes overflowing into your orbs. You avoided your mother’s question, choosing to confront her instead, “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What do you mean?” she queried.

“You’re trying to set us up.” Her face fell into an expression of guilt. “And it’s not gonna work,” you continued. She flinched back at the iciness in your tone.

“Why not? Don’t you want to get back together?”

Months ago, you would have agreed in a heartbeat. Even a few hours ago, one year later, you were hopeful that you would be able to rekindle your relationship. You wanted to tell him yes so badly that the word burned on your tongue, itching for you to give in to what your heart wanted.

But you couldn’t just ignore all the times you hid your hurt feelings by his seeming indifference when you were together or belittle the times you spent crying over him after your break up. 

Your lip quivered, mouth going dry as you struggled to give an explanation, “I don’t want the same thing to happen again.”

You didn’t tell her what happened earlier, how Kusuo asked you if you would give him another chance and how you were ready to take him back.

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki no psi nan

[kvj-novels]

Senku x fem named!reader

Hello! I’m currently obsessed with Dr. Stone and in love with a leek-haired man sO i kinda wanted to write a fanfic and in literally 12 hours I’ve written 10k+ words and I’m not even done yet oops

Rating: this chapter is E for everyone though there is some mild language

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN THE CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS.

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Chapter One

The first thing I felt was a cracking, like my skin was peeling off. My mind was waking up from a deep slumber as this feeling continued. I desperately wanted to scratch but my limbs wouldn’t move.  A crack of sunlight blinded me and all at once I felt my body release from some  kind of shell. The cracking and itching stopped. I opened my eyes. 

Two kind faces stared at me. 

The second thing I felt was the cold breeze on my skin. I looked around for a moment, noting the forest of trees before settling back on the kind faces.  The last thing I felt before I suddenly felt everything all at once, was the need to vomit. I turned, doubling over on to my hands and knees and hurled at the ground behind me. 

“Oh my,” a woman spoke. “take it easy.” She put a hand on my back. “You’ve been asleep for a long time. This reaction is common so don’t be scared.” A cloth came into my view, I took it and wiped my mouth, then turned back to the two people.  A woman with blonde hair and green eyes.  A man with black hair and brown eyes. He grinned at me, apparently unphased by my horrible first impression.  “I’m Chrome.” He said, then pointed to the woman. “This is Ruri.” She smiled and waved. “I know this all probably seems much different from what you last remember, do you have any questions?” I stared blankly. “Where...am I?” My throat burned as I spoke. The acid from the vomit still lining my throat.  “You’re in Japan.” She said. “Though it has been 3,700 years from the last time you saw it.” “Do you have a name?” The man named Chrome asked.  I opened my mouth to spit out my name because of course I had one.

Didn’t I?

I closed my mouth, my teeth clamping together. I couldn’t remember.  The smiles on the two strangers faces faded. Ruri put a hand on my shoulder.  “Do you remember what happened to you?” She asked.  I looked down to think. A pile of rock surrounded my feet and a vague memory of a green light crawled into my head. Nothing more.  I shook my head.  “We should go back,” Ruri said to the man.  “Oh, but we have two more on schedule to wake up.” Chrome responded.  “But we’ve never encountered something like this, Chrome. Senku would know what to do and I don’t want to frighten her any more.” Chrome thought for a moment. “You’re right. Let’s head back to camp for the others and we’ll leave for home from there.” Ruri turned back to me, her kind smile lighting up her face again. “Will you trust us? We’ll take you home and have our friend help you. He’ll cure your mind I promise.” I didn’t see why I couldn’t trust them. I shook my head and took the woman’s hand when she offered it to me.  “What would you like us to call you until you can remember your real name?” She asked. They walked together and I followed, my bare feet stumbling over the forest floor.  “I..I don’t know.” “Mm, I say we call you Emerald.” Chrome said, a hand on his chin. I looked over at him confused.  “Your eyes,” he clarified. “they’re a very deep green like an emerald.” Then he smiled. “Emmy for short if you like.” I nodded. “Emerald is fine, it’s kinda pretty.” I gave a half hearted smile. We walked together for a while until we made it to a camp. Chrome was enthusiastically telling me about their adventures. Unpetrifying people. Fighting off villains.  It all sounded a bit ridiculous. But Ruri confirmed everything. And with a much more solemn attitude. Only because of her did I actually think Chrome’s tales were true.  At the camp a handful of people sat around a fire. Some food was cooking over the flame.  “These are people that we unpetrified just before you. They only just woke up themselves. One only since this morning.” Ruri said quietly, stopping a few yards away from the camp. “Do they all remember?” She shook her head. “We’ve not had anyone who didn’t remember.” I frowned a bit.  “Don’t worry!” She said in a voice that was desperate to keep someone happy. “I’m sure Senku can give you the cure all drug to help.” She brushed a strand of my hair back behind my ear and led me into the camp.  “Emerald!” A woman called out. “Chrome says that’s your name right?” I gave a tentative nod. “Come sit with me, we’ve got dinner cooked.” I sat by the fire with her, definitely grateful for some food. She handed me a bowl and looking down at it, the sight filled me with a warmth.  I smiled, almost crying.  “What’s wrong?” The woman asked.  “I know this food...” I said softly. “Ramen...I remember it.” “That’s great, Emerald!” Ruri said as she sat down with us. “Maybe things will come back slowly, just give it time.” “What’s the matter?” The woman asked, still confused.  “Emerald doesn’t remember what happened to her and nor does she know her real name.” Ruri said.  “Amnesia?” The woman said. “Damn...that’s gonna be rough.” I sat quietly and ate the ramen, listening to the people talk. They all introduced themselves differently throughout dinner.  The men were Hiro, Benni and Jackson. The woman who offered me food was Hinata.  Once dinner was finished, Chrome announced that we would be leaving for home once we got everything packed up. He said we weren’t too far and if we could manage, we’d be there by morning.  The group agreed.  “What’s the hurry for?” Hiro asked.  “We need to get Emerald to Senku.” He simply said. I did my best to help everyone pack up but I had no clue what went where. And my body seemed pretty sluggish. Ruri had the most patience with me. She only smiled and said it was alright.  We set out very shortly after eating. Everything was packed tightly into backpacks that the men carried. Chrome was leading the party through the forest. He never faltered even as the sun set and night time creeped in.  Several hours into the journey we came to a small clearing in the forest. Chrome stopped. “Grab the blankets and take a bit of a break.” He said. “It’s getting pretty cold tonight so rest up and warm up for a few hours. We’ll begin again after that.” The men passed out the blankets but kept everything else packed. Chrome started a small fire to help everyone warm up a bit. I sat by the fire with the blanket. My body was tired but my brain was running at a thousand miles per hour. I wanted to sleep but every time I closed my eyes I remembered the darkness that I was only just brought out of and without even realizing, my eyes would be open again. Staring at the flames.  Some time went by and Chrome woke from his nap. He woke everyone else, put out the fire and we began again. 

With the moon setting in the horizon I saw a village in the distance lit up by small flames on a tall pole. We were close.

*********

Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes Please DM me if you like to be added to the tag list!

#smut #fanfic #dr stone #senku x fem #dr stone fanfic #ishigami senku #taiju oki #senku x reader #one shots

[7spaceace7]

These Thoughts We Carry

No one really knows about Sooga’s past. No one knows where he came from, or what burdens he carries. But Hylia damn them all, Master Kohga doesn’t let anybody go through that shit alone, especially when he knows what it’s like to deal with nightmares all the time. Especially when it’s the one he loves most.

 Master Kohga x Sooga hurt/comfort fic that I churned out after like two days and a bad set of nightmares. I hope you enjoy! I’ll post it on AO3 as well!

Warnings: Implied physical abuse 

Word count:  2387

In a desert, it is easy to forget that the sky can change. From early morning, it seems the sun is always burning down your back, clutching you in its comforting, yet suffocating, grasp. You almost forget that dusk is just hours away. The unclouded blue skies seem to go on forever. 

Though, every resident of Hyrule knows that the desert night is even more unforgiving than the daytime’s blistering heat. You are placed at a disadvantage amongst your foes. Lizalfos and bokoblins settle in for unsuspecting prey wandering about the sands. Anyone who has the wit about them could surprise you, if you are unlucky. And of course, the frozen winds bring a chill that digs deep into bone when just moments before you might have been begging for such relief. 

But none of those things were the reason Sooga hated the nights of Gerudo Desert. No, Sooga despised them for their unending silence. The vast emptiness. The endless searching for something besides your thoughts. Desert nights used this loneliness to stir up a past better left forgotten, and that is what Sooga hated most of all. 

He stood at the entrance of the Yiga Clan hideout, just before the land dipped and delved into its rugged formations of rock. The inverted eye statues stood through the whistling winds. Their cloth counterparts strung up above blew with a disheveled intensity. This nuisance of a noise was the only sound Sooga could hear rustling through the valley. Well, that and perhaps his restless mind. 

His thoughts were always loudest when he was trying to sleep, and often woke him up in the middle of the night. Tonight happened to be such a night where they were too loud to be kept inside the hideout. Certainly, they were too loud to continue resting next to Master Kohga, lest he wake him unnecessarily. Sooga would never dare to do this. Instead, he would resign himself to the chilled desert air at the beginning of the hideout when the memories became painful enough. If he could not sleep, at least he could be useful and take a nightwatch shift. His one good eye settled right on the valley’s opening.

Focus, Sooga. Do not let your mind drift. 

But his memories would not be silenced. He remembered a broken picture frame from his dream that night. The frame once held a family of three, but had broken into a family of only cracks after a bout of rage from a man he once called a father. It might have meant nothing to anyone else, but to Sooga...the screaming of the drunken bastard entered his ears at the simple sight of it. Sooga tried desperately to shake it from his mind, but his memories of the nightmare shoved through.

A broken picture frame, pieces splintered around thatchwood floor. A broken picture frame, having been thrown at his person when he hadn’t the skill to protect himself. A broken picture frame, among other airborne objects, that he narrowly avoided by the miracle of perhaps Hylia herself.

The Yiga warrior let a shaky breath escape his masked lips. Fists clenched tightly, as if that man would be right behind him if only he found courage to look. A quick glance told him nothing was there, but his heart was not at ease. 

Logically, Sooga knew there was nothing. He knew his father had left this world long ago. Sooga knew it so firmly because it was his own hands that finished him off. Simple strangulation, soon after he had only turned eighteen years of age. The warrior had made sure there was none of his father left in this world to haunt him ever again.

Yet here he was. Years later, still scared by ghosts he’d conjured up himself. The uniformed man sighed, and in a moment of weakness, pried off his white mask. Sooga was careful not to deepen the crack as his palm gingerly encased the object. Perhaps the cold air against his bare skin would be of use to his intruding thoughts. At least, he thought, it was nice to feel fresh air.

“There you are!” Came a familiar voice from behind his post. Sooga jumped and smacked the mask back onto his face in a panic. He blinked once from surprise, and once more from the shock he just gave his facial nerves.

“M-Master Kohga,” Sooga got to his feet and bowed automatically, hoping his pounding heartbeat wasn’t able to be heard by his superior. “I had not thought you were awake at this hour.”

“I wasn’t, but then I rolled over and realized you up and vanished,” Kohga yawned, scratching an itch at his neck. He was without his uniform, but still donned a type of mask. This one was specifically for sleep, and made of soft, red fabric that held a sewn pattern of the inverted eye, closed instead of open. For now, this mask rested atop his forehead. “Yunno, for a big guy, you’re real hard to find. Took me forever to figure out where you went.”

“My apologies, Master Kohga.” 

“Eh, don’t sweat it, I was only a little worried,” This of course was a blatant lie, as Master Kohga had quickly woken up in a cold sweat after his hand fell upon an empty spot next to him in bed. He had grabbed only his robe in his haste to find where Sooga had gone. But of course, a dignified leader such as he would never have done a thing like that. Kohga took a spot next to Sooga’s post and sat down. “So what’re you doin’ way out here so late?”

Sooga was silent for a moment as he sat down next to his master. He contemplated brushing off the comment with a vague answer, but...something compelled him to confide instead. 

“A dream demon made its attempt on my subconscious,” Sooga spoke. He hoped to retain at least a bit of dignity by acting professionally, but the facade was lost on Kohga. “I did not want to wake you with it.”

“Nightmares gettin’ to ya again, I see.” 

Again? Had Kohga somehow already known of his recent night difficulties?

“Don’t look so surprised, we’ve been sleeping toge-- er, bunking --for a while now, and you get kinda squirmy when you aren’t dreaming well.”

Sooga hadn’t any idea of this happening. Shame sat upon his masked features and settled its way down to his throat. His tongue searched for something to say. An apology, perhaps? That was all he knew to do in a moment like this. Apologize for the inconvenience, apologize for the worries he must have induced, apologize for the disturbance of his master’s rest, apologize, apologize, apolo-

“You don’t have to feel bad, Sooga, I know you put all that pressure on yourself,” Master Kohga said. Sooga’s head turned towards the unmasked man beside him in utter surprise. Had he suddenly learned a new technique for mind-reading? “Nightmares suck. Real bad. I get it.”

Rather than questioning how he knew such an appropriate response, Sooga nodded, and dared to ask a different question. 

“What...happens? When you are brought to notice I am not resting well, that is,” Sooga asked quietly, head turning away once more. It was no surprise that Sooga was soft-spoken, but that was out of his own self-discipline. His day-to-day tone was based on leadership and careful thought, but this...this was a tone Kohga had never heard from his friend before. This was laced with fear. 

“Well, ah,” Kohga started. His brown eyes softened as he recalled one night waking to Sooga thrashing about their shared covers, murmuring something like a cry for help. To another night where Sooga had begun shaking uncontrollably. To a night just last week when he unmistakably heard a pleading for someone to stop. Stop what, Kohga didn’t know, and he knew even less of who it could be about. Even his best attempts to wake his second-in-command went without fruition. “Sometimes you say stuff. Sleep-talker nonsense, yunno, I usually don’t have a clue what you’re going on about. But you always seem so...scared.”

I always hold you when they get bad like that, Kohga wanted to say. The words were right there, threatening to spill out of him all at once in a jumble of messy worries and care that the Yiga master so desperately wanted to confess. But this wasn’t the time. 

Kohga left out the part where he’d always wrap his arms around a nightmare-stricken Sooga to calm his shakes and trembles. He left out the part where he’d draped a hand across Sooga’s chest and gently adjusted his mask enough to wipe away the hidden tears. He left out the part where he’d discovered that nuzzling his face into Sooga’s neck would cause the larger man to remember he was safe and briefly find relief. At least, Kohga hoped he did.

“I am sorry you have seen me in such weakness, Master Kohga..” Sooga finally replied, bringing Kohga back to the present moment. Kohga was right next to him, but still, the man seemed so far away.

“Being afraid isn’t weakness. Everybody gets scared of stuff, even me,” Kohga nudged Sooga’s side in a lighthearted gesture, as they both knew just how terrified the ‘fearless leader of the Yiga Clan’ could really get. “This world’s full of some scary shit. You’re allowed to get scared, no matter how strong you are. And you’re, like, the strongest guy I know, besides me of course.”

“You truly believe that?”

“Course I do! I mean look atcha, you’re twice my size and a badass,  dual-wielding blademaster. There’s no one in the world cooler than you and me, big guy.”

Sooga cracked a smile at that.

“My point is,” Kohga continued, “You don’t have to save face with me. Dream demons get to me too, yunno, that’s why I’ve got my big strong bodyguard next to me every night. That’s what makes me not so scared anymore. I know that nothin’s gonna get to me because if it tries, I’ve got you.”

Kohga paused, eyes drifting over to where Sooga’s own eye would be. “So, I wanna help you feel protected from ‘em, too.”

“But that is my job-” Sooga tried to protest, turning back to face his master.

“You deserve to feel safe, too, Sooga.”

Sooga was silent at this. They sat in the silence for a while, just simply staring at each other. Master Kohga’s brow furrowed in the rare serious manner that it did. He was determined to get Sooga to see how much he cared. He would do anything to help him, if only Sooga would allow it.

The warrior next to him saw that determination in his chocolate brown eyes, paired with another feeling he couldn’t quite pin. Whatever it was, it was inviting. Sooga couldn’t help but want to see it more. He wanted to share moments like this more, where it was just the two of them and neither put on a show. Moments where he could see the bouncing curls that framed Kohga’s chubby cheeks up close, and feel the warmth from his gaze. Perhaps one day, even, Sooga could let go of his own mask.

Kohga sighed, which led to a loud, long yawn overtaking his features. The plump clan master gave a little stretch and sat back against the wall. If Sooga didn’t want to, he wouldn’t bring it up again.

“I’m not gonna force you or anything, I just-”

“I would like to feel safe with you,” The words tumbled out of Sooga’s mouth before he had the notion to stop them. Somewhere along the lines, his hand had grabbed Kohga’s and was now clutching it tight. He hardly knew what he was doing, but didn’t back down. It felt right. “There are many things I must atone for. I do not know how to achieve this peace just yet, but…”

Kohga squeezed his hand back, trying to ignore the blatant blush dusting his cheeks. If not for the dark, surely Sooga would have seen and fretted over his health, as he often did, but Kohga wouldn’t mind. He never minded. 

“I’ll be here the whole time,” He assured. And he meant it. Whatever Sooga needed, Kohga would offer help. It was obvious that the masked man was holding onto something painful, and Kohga would offer his support in any way that he could. Even if it interrupted his sleeping schedule.

Another yawn bubbled up from Kohga’s chest, and when he tried to stifle it, it forced out as a hiccup anyway. 

Way to ruin a moment, Kohga thought.

Cute, Sooga chuckled to himself.

“Perhaps we should return to bed, and continue this in the morning,” Sooga offered. Master Kohga’s shoulders visibly relaxed in relief as he slumped his face into Sooga’s chest. It felt like two muscular pillows smushing against his cheeks, a blessing from Hylia probably. Er, Ganon. Totally meant Ganon.

“Yes please,” He whined pitifully. Another chuckle rumbled through Sooga’s chest, vibrating Kohga’s whole head. 

This time, Sooga took to reading his master’s mind. His strong arms effortlessly picked up the stouter man and cradled him against his chest, as if Kohga were a bride. The night air brought a chill, after all, and Kohga had only dressed his robe over his undergarments. He looked down to the half-lidded face against him.

“I do appreciate your words, Master Kohga. I will always remember your kindness,” Sooga whispered above the wind. He looked down at the bundle of a man for a response, but only found soft snoring instead. 

The stupendous chief of the Yiga Clan was asleep before his sentence was finished. 

Sooga’s smile was soft. The winds of the desert night rolled behind him deep in the valley, and Sooga turned away from them feeling slightly freer. If any dream demons dared test his patience this night again, this time they would be answering to the courageous man in his arms.

#Master Kohga #Sooga #hwaoc #loz botw #age of calamity #yiga husbands #yiga clan #Master Kohga x Sooga #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #pre-calamity #Fanfics

[ansksosns]

Here is the continuation of my first post, Sealed Fates! This one is fluffier, and a lot more dialogue based. It’s a bit more of a comedy relief, because the last part was just....so much angst. and other parts, if I go forward, HAVE SO MUCH ANGST. 

Anyways, Thank you for reading! 

Word count: 3328

Tobirama is the first to wake the following morning; he is always awake early enough to catch the sunrise, though it is never for that exact purpose. He is often up late into the evenings—sometimes the early morning—to finish his work. When he does finally sleep, it is not particularly good, nor is it long, but enough to keep the man going about his days. 

He realizes as he lays in bed, allowing his mind to catch up and make its way through the haze, that he had slept rather soundly through the night. The seemingly never ending aches that lives in his bones, and the constant throbbing behind his eyes that has become so common to his day to day life that he considers it a part of his very being—is gone.

He studies you closely, as he begins to recall the events of last night more clearly.

Tobirama shifts slightly, the sheets on his bed itching against his exposed skin. He stops very suddenly, realizing that there is a weight dipping the bed on the other side of him.

There, beside him, is you.  You are wrapped up under the blanket, with one arm extended out towards him, as though you had been holding him before he woke.

Your eyes closed and lips parted, he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. Your hair is usually tied up whenever he sees you, but now it is splayed over your shoulders and pillows, looking like a silk curtain. Tobirama has to resist the urge to run his fingers through it, so as not to disturb your sleep. 

He had practically confessed his love to you in an effort to clear his conscience—but then you had declared yours for him, and he had not expected that. 

This is something you have always been good at; doing the unexpected, and succeeding without so much of an effort. Nothing surprises Tobirama anymore, yet here you are, still proving to him that he truly does not know everything. 

Tobirama had stopped himself in the past from acting on instinct with you; most notably the way he’d almost kissed you when you awoke in the hospital last month. You had been in a near death state when he brought you in—your heartbeat had practically stopped. 

He was not yet ready to lose you then. 

And he is not yet ready to lose you now. 

When you looked at him the way you did—like he was a man truly worthy of your love—he did not resist the urge he felt then to kiss you. 

So he did. He kissed you, again and, again, until the two of you could no longer breathe; no longer able to tell up from down. Tobirama had been so bold to take you to his bed, afraid all of it was some sick joke, where he would wake up the next morning to discover he’d been trapped in some ridiculous genjutsu. 

But you are still here, laying beside him.  You are real, you are alive, and you love him, just as he loves you. 

Tobirama notes the red, slightly purple marks that are littered on your neck and down your collar bone, some along your chest.  His face grows warm at the sight of his aggressive markings on you, but he has too much pride now to be embarrassed; He is yours now, for as long as you will have him. His heart skips a beat in his chest, and because you are asleep, Tobirama allows the smile that is creeping up on him, to come out. 

He will protect you, no matter what. He will not lose another loved one. 

With one last glance, Tobirama carefully shifts out of his bed, careful not to disturb you. He changes into some pants, before slipping away. 

xxx

Tobirama is gone when you wake up—his side of the bed is empty, and cold. The sun is hanging in the sky, just a touch over the mountains. The morning has only just begun, but Tobirama being gone makes it feel like you are getting a late start to your day. 

Sighing deeply, you roll out of the bed and stretch your limbs and crack your joints. 

You had slept well—you would be surprised if you hadn’t. Not after all you were put through last night. 

You ghost your fingers over your neck, recalling the way Tobirama’s lips felt against you. He was gentle with you, despite the overwhelming evidence left upon your skin. The thought of him instantly makes you smile, and you feel like a child. 

The door is slightly ajar—something he rarely does when others are present in his home. The door being closed means no interruptions; the door open meant...well, there isn’t anyone around to interrupt. 

You walk around the room, collecting your discarded clothes in your hands before putting them all back on again. As you slip the sweater over your head, you realize it is two sizes too big on you. You must have grabbed Tobirama’s instead of yours. You consider changing out of it, and finding your own shirt but decide against it. The two of you entered a new territory last night, and now you want to see what other things you can get away with.

After doing up your pants, you make your way to the only place Tobirama would go so early in the morning—his office. 

New territory. 

You open the door quietly, trying your best not to disturb him. 

He is behind the oak desk again, focusing intently on the scroll in front of him, scribbling furiously. You almost feel bad for intruding, but you have done this many times before as his assistant. Though, his lack of shirt was new. 

“Good morning.” You say. 

Tobirama stops, and looks up at you briefly, eyes scanning the entirety of your body.  He then looks over his shoulder to the window behind him, and back to you. His focused stare falters. 

“Good morning.” He replies. “I am sorry. I intended to rejoin you after a few notes, but it seems time has escaped me yet again.” 

He is speaking to you calmly, casually. It makes your heart soar at how domestic it all feels. 

You walk up to him as he speaks, enjoying the view of him working in comfort behind the desk. 

“It’s okay,” You say to him softly. You stand behind his chair now and very slowly, place both of your hands on his bare shoulders. 

For a split second, you think you’ve crossed a line when you realize how stiff he is. Your worries immediately wash away as he relaxes, melting back into your palms. 

You slowly begin to massage the muscles, trying to get the tension out that had been caused by him being hunched over his desk for so long. 

His shoulders are strong, you note. They have to be, as he holds what feels like the weight of the world on them. 

“I enjoyed having the bed to myself anyways. You can be a bit of a bed hog.” You say playfully, leaning your forehead down to the crown of his head. 

Tobirama grunts in response. He puts his pen down and turns the chair around, grabbing your hands from his shoulders, and holding them in his. He looks up at you longingly. 

“Is there a reason you are wearing my clothing?” He asks, eyes skimming over you again. 

You shrug, and sit down in his lap, straddling him. “I figured it would look better on me.” 

You remove your hands from his, and lock your arms around his neck. 

He is so warm compared to you; like his skin was taming a fire that is burning inside of him. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and smile softly as his arms wrap around you. You feel safe here—truly safe, for the first time in a long time. 

You did not think Tobirama would let you stay for long, as he has work to finish before meeting at the Hokage mansion. But he still hugs you, tracing your skin aimlessly with his nails. You take note of the position the sun is in. You have to leave soon, and that thought breaks your heart, because you are not sure when or if you will ever be with him like this again. 

Tobirama says your name gently, but it is still a command. He knows too, that if neither of you make the first move, you will both be late. You pull your face away from his neck, and look at him with pleading eyes. His ruby ones are soft, as they flick from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes again. This time, it is him who cradles your face in his palm, his thumb gently swiping beneath the corner of your eye. You lean into his touch, placing a soft kiss to his calloused palm. 

“Will you come back, tonight?” He asks in a near whisper. 

You nod. “If you would like me to.” 

He looks as though he wants to say something, but decides against it. You decide not to call him on it, and pull yourself off of him. You straighten out your clothes and clear your throat as you stand straight. 

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, alright?” You say, moving towards the door. “I’ve done enough of that now.” 

His eyes follow you through the room, nodding at your request. You offer him one last soft smile before seeing yourself out. 

xxx

You quickly pick up your pace as you see the stairs to the Hokage mansion just off in the distance. You are running behind, thanks to this morning. You had to get creative as you changed clothes, to hide most of the marks on your skin; it took more time than you wanted it to. You are sure that Tobirama will still lecture about being late, even though in part, your tardiness was also his fault. 

When you arrive at the bottom of the staircase, you are greeted with a familiar face. 

“Madara,” You say, surprised he is not already inside with Hashirama. “What are you doing out here?” 

He smirks at you. “Tobirama hasn’t shown up yet. I figured my face is the first one he would like to see during such a historical moment.” 

You stop in your tracks beside him. “He’s late?” You gasp.

Could Tobirama not have just used his Hiraishin seal to arrive in the mansion, and prevent this? None would be the wiser to it if he had. 

Madara cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.  His eyes go a bit wider, as though he has come to a revelation. If he did, he does not share this revelation with you. 

“I’m sure that is not true. Come, Hashirama is waiting for us.” 

You usher the Uchiha up the stairs with no resistance. 

The two of you enter Hokage's office. Hashirama looks up at the door, his eyes twinkling brightly as he greets you. 

The first thing you notice is the lack of Tobirama in the room. Hashirama looks behind you, no doubt looking for his younger brother, then slumping in his chair when he realizes that Tobirama is not with the two of you.  He does not vocalize his disappointment before collecting himself again. 

“Nice of you to join us,” Hashirama says to you.

You give him a curt nod. “My apologies,” you counter. “I lost track of time.” 

Madara stifles a laugh, and you shoot him a glare. Hashirama catches on to this, shooting a look between Madara and yourself. 

“I have never known you to have ‘lost track of time’.” He says skeptically. 

You offer a shrug. “I am only human, Lord Hokage.” 

He lets out a booming laugh, nodding his head in agreement. “That we are.” 

You relax, knowing your half truth has passed, and you can now continue about your day with ease. 

But before the meeting can continue, the office door opens abruptly. Tobirama, half dressed in his armour barrels through. He looks out of breath for half a moment, red eyes wild, looking as though he’d been caught in the middle of a taboo act. His eyes meet with Hashirama’s, and then yours. His eyes go wider as he realizes you made it to the meeting before him. 

He stops struggling to get the rest of his armour on, opting to leave it open as he tries his best to compose himself. 

Hashirama beams at his brother, happy to see him finally but his mood is quick to sour. 

“Tobirama!” He exclaims. “Where have you been?”

Tobirama’s eyes flick to yours quickly, before rolling his eyes at his brother. 

“I lost track of time, elder brother.”  He groans, a deep, agitated sigh escaping from him. 

You tense at his words, a sudden sinking feeling in your gut. 

Hashirama pauses at his words, considering them, but Madara is quick to act, just as he always is when it comes to humiliating the youngest Senju brother. 

“Oh?” Madara questions, a playful edge to his tone. 

Tobirama’s body flinches at the sound of his voice.  You suppose, in all of Tobirama’s haste, he had forgotten that Madara was part of today’s meeting. 

You sigh internally to yourself. There is hardly a moment when the youngest Senju and the Uchiha are not at each other's throats. While Tobirama takes a practical approach to his distaste for the man such as voice his concerns and doubts of Madara’s capabilities, the Uchiha does his best to make Tobirama’s day to day life a living hell. He critiques Tobirama on anything he does, whether or not it needs it. 

Today is the perfect day for it. 

“You are not one to make excuses, Tobirama.”  Madara says with a grin.

Tobirama glares at him, kunai's practically shooting their way across the room. His chakra is building, the pressure of it coming off in small waves. You look at Hashirama with pleading eyes, knowing he has the ability to settle their disputes without damage being done to the building, or each other.  After last night, Tobirama’s temper tantrum is the last thing she wanted. 

Hashirama only matches your gaze, and stays silent. You grit your teeth.

“You are late every other day, Uchiha. I will not listen to reprimands from someone who shows little respect to the Hokage and company.” Tobirama states, folding his arms over his chest. 

Madara chuckles, making his way to the space between yourself and Tobirama. 

“I simply find it strange that the both of you arrived late today, using the same excuse.” 

You are taken aback by Madara’s words. Through the years, the two of you have been friends, working together closely before your days as Tobirama’s assistant. The two of you often went on missions together, and trained together when you both had time to spare. For him to drag you into his war with Tobirama like this, it was unusual. 

You want to hit him. 

“You weren’t home this morning when I came by for our weekly sparring session.” Madara says to you, his tone mischievous.  He looks at you with a knowing smile, and the blood boils in your veins. 

How could you have forgotten all about your sparring session with Madara? It is the same day, the same time, every week, right down to the second. You feel yourself getting more frustrated as you think, but unsure now if it is with Madara, or yourself for being so careless.

First, you end up in the hospital due to your own mistake. Now, you forget the simplest of activities. Each passing day, you are slacking in your expertise.  This thought only angers you further, and as it stands, Madara will be the one to face your wrath if he is not careful. 

“And now...well,” Madara continues, motioning to both yourself and Tobirama and smiling at the Hokage. “Quite a coincidence, if I do say so myself—too much of one, really.” 

He turns to you, a wicked glint in his eyes. 

“Did you perhaps spend the night at Tobi—”

Madara does not get to finish his sentence. Tobirama’s chakra explodes, and he moves in to grab the Uchiha with an unrecognizable force. Madara watches with the look of an absolute madman, challenging Tobirama to do his worst. 

But Hashirama is much faster than his brother; his wood jutsu grasps both Madara and Tobirama individually, and stops the sudden eruption of anger. 

“That is enough, Madara.” Hashirama booms. He looks to Tobirama, and yourself. 

“I expect better from you two. He is instigating, and you are letting him.” 

Madara chuckles, so Hashirama tightens the wood around him just a little more. 

“And you,” The Hokage thunders. “What the two of them do in their own time is nothing for you to make speculations about.” 

Everyone in the room is silent for a while, allowing Hashirama’s words to sink in. Once he is satisfied with that, he releases the jutsu. He sighs, and pouts. 

“You two are dismissed.” Hashirama says, pointing to both you and Madara. 

“I’d like to discuss important matters with my brother, privately.” 

Madara brushes dirt off of his shoulder, peeking through his bangs at you. 

“Shall we make up for that sparring session?” He asks.

“Gladly.” You growl, shooting a glare at him.

He clasps his hands together. “Wonderful! Perhaps you can tell me all about your late night escapade while we are at it.” 

Tobirama’s fingers flex at his sides, and the tips of his ears burn red. 

“Leave.” 

Madara complies, but not without slapping a hand down on Tobirama’s shoulder as he passes him, patting it.

You can feel the anger radiating off of Tobirama—no sensory skills needed.

Once Madara has left the room, your shoulders relax and you let out a very deep, much needed sigh.

“You ought to control him more, elder brother.” Tobirama states, fiddling with his armour once again.

“I’m sorry—if I had not forgotten about our sparring session—”

Tobirama shoots you a look. It is not too harsh that you feel as though you’ve upset him, but it is enough to stop you from rambling on about what you could have done differently, if given the chance. 

“You should leave, before he comes back.” Tobirama says, trying to keep the sharp edge out of his tone. 

You silently appreciate the way Tobirama is trying not to take his frustrations out on you. For a quick moment, you recall the times many years ago when Tobirama would snap at you and everyone around him if caught in the wrong mood. 

Of course, you would all find out later that his sensory skills are much more sensitive than that of a normal person, especially without proper training. 

“Okay.” You reply to him, before looking at his brother. “Please do not lay into him too much, Hashirama.” 

He gives you a curt nod, and you turn to leave. 

Before you get too far, Tobirama has grabbed your hand in his with a stern grip. You stop, meeting his eyes. You want to crumble right then and there, as he looks at you so softly. He gives you a small squeeze; everything he wants to say translating just through that action. 

You know he will not say what he is thinking in front of his brother, therefore you do not say anything to him. You only squeeze his hand back as a reassurance that you understand all that he is meaning to say. 

Hashirama looks on, the pout on his face from before completely gone. You feel bad for whatever happens next when you leave the room. 

You let go of Tobirama’s hand, and leave to catch up with Madara. 

“Tobirama! My dear, sweet brother, now a man! I am so happy for you!” 

“Shut up, elder brother!” 

#Tobirama Senju x reader #senju tobirama x you #senju tobirama #Tobirama Senju #senju hashirama #hashirama senju #uchiha madara #madara uchiha #Naruto #Naruto fanfiction #naruto shippuden #fanfic #reader insert #writing #no beta we die like men #I don't think this one holds up as well as the first part but #some times we need fluff and happier moments #uhhh if ur reading the tags im impressed and ily #go live ur hoebirama dreams #oh uhhhh #nidaime hokage #fluff