#if you don’t wanna reach out directly feel free to like this and I’ll arrive at your doorstep

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 ao3

When the doorbell rings, it isn’t Lucas. It’s Erica.

“Lucas is coming,” she says, hopping off her bike and picking up a plastic bag that’s looped around the handlebars. “I told him to give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Eddie says. He tips from concern into something approaching bemusement as Erica throws the bag at him; when he catches it, he feels the coldness of it, opens it up to find two tubs of ice-cream.

Erica side-steps him into the hall, calls over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Eddie, or it’s gonna melt.”

Eddie laughs. “Hi to you, too.”

When he reaches the kitchen, Erica has already opened the freezer to clear a space, Steve watching her from the counter with a look of benign amusement.

“I’d better be compensated for this,” Erica is saying. She points at the space she’s made, and Eddie dutifully slots the tubs inside. “This goes against the you supplying me with free ice-cream for life deal.”

“You literally ate my ice-cream,” Steve says. “Besides, I kinda figured that contract was null and void when Scoops went kaput.”

Erica shuts the freezer door. “I didn’t have a contract with Scoops, I had one with you.”

And she stops. “Have,” she corrects quietly.

No longer able to focus on putting the ice-cream away, her hands fall to her sides. Her little smile drops, and all at once, Eddie is reminded that she’s just eleven years old.

Steve’s face softens. “Why’re you really here, Erica?”

“Lucas,” Erica starts, then pauses—but that’s an answer all of its own, Eddie thinks. She collects herself, looks Steve directly in the eye. “He might not… get it all out.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve says.

“He was…” Erica glances down. “I don’t wanna see him like that. Ever again.”

“Hey, look at me.” Steve’s tone is gentle. “I’m sorry.”

Erica sighs loudly; Eddie can hear the frustration and hurt in it, but mostly the love. “You don’t have to—that’s not why I’m telling you,” she says. “I don’t…” Her eyes widen a little. “I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

Steve smiles at her, lifts up one arm in offering. He makes a beckoning gesture. “Help a guy out? I don’t have travelling by bar stool down yet.”

“Was that meant to be funny? Pathetic,” Erica replies, but she’s heading over to him as she says it, lets herself be pulled into a hug.

Steve whispers something in her ear—Eddie half-hears it as a crack about her ice-cream preferences, and she giggles a bit, does a more dramatic sigh and says, “Nothing can cure your poor taste, Steve.”

She settles into the hug.

Eddie thinks of the slip up she made. Had, have. Past, present. Hates that she was forced into thinking of Steve in the past tense—for even a second is a second too long.

As Erica heads out, she turns to Dustin, who’s sitting out on the driveway, waiting for Lucas to show up.

“Look after him,” she says with an intensity that might’ve been funny if Eddie hadn’t known all that had caused it.

Dustin chuckles slightly. He jerks his head back to the house, where Eddie stands at the front doormat. “Which one?”

Erica grins, looks a little lighter. “I meant Lucas, but guess you’ve got your hands full. You’re the babysitter now.”

As she gets back on her bike, Eddie calls after her. “What, don’t I get any orders?”

She glances at him over her shoulder, one foot on the pedal. Her gaze lingers for a couple of beats, and he thinks of her staring him down at Hellfire, sharp and analytical. But now there’s a softness there, too.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, I suppose,” she says, and her lips twitch into a smile that’s just pretending to be sardonic, and Eddie feels his heart swell.

-

Dustin sits with him on the stairs. When Lucas arrived, he barely said a word, not even to Dustin, instead heading through the hallway like someone marching towards the gallows.

They stay put, giving a semi-illusion of privacy—voices can travel far in this damn house—but they can hardly hear anything right now, just the soft rumble of speech, the rise and fall of a question, then silence.

“Can I tell you something?” Dustin mumbles haltingly.

“Sure,” Eddie says, and means Of course you fucking can. Always.

“It was my fault,” Dustin says into his knees, “with… Max. When I was—Lucas, he came to get me when you, um. When you drove away.”

Eddie doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he feels a pang of guilt which Dustin must notice, because he nudges Eddie’s forearm.

“I was kinda… freaking out. A lot, actually. By the time we got to the house, Max, she—she’d already stopped listening to her tape. I… I gave her time to think about it, you know? If we were quicker, we might’ve…”

Stopped it. Eddie’s all too familiar with that sentiment.

“You know, like with Steve. He… he must’ve thought about—about it for ages when he…” Dustin clears his throat. “When he saw the clock.”

Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Steve had made his decision in a split-second, like it was inevitable; like he’d already committed to it long ago, stared that awful option down and came to the conclusion easily, if it meant everyone else would be safe.

-

“This is stupid,” Dustin announces after another five minutes have passed without them overhearing anything, not even the whisper of a voice.

He’s down the stairs before Eddie can even think about stopping him. Even if he had been quick enough, he’s not sure if he would’ve decided to stop him in the first place. Shit, he’s not all that sure about anything; there’s no guidebook for this.

He follows Dustin into the kitchen, sees him standing by the fridge; Lucas is sitting at the counter, holding a glass of water Steve must’ve instructed him to take.

Steve is speaking with a quiet urgency, his eyes pleading as he considers Lucas searchingly. “You don’t—don’t need to be nice to me or anything, dude. I can take it. Don’t, like… tread on eggshells on my account.”

“It was my fault,” Dustin interrupts.

Lucas frowns, shakes his head.

And Eddie and Steve speak in unison, a firm rebuttal: “Dustin.”

They jolt in surprise, glance at each other—and then Dustin snorts and says, “Holy shit, that was like a sitcom. Did you, like, practice that or are you just losers?”

And that makes Lucas laugh into his glass of water.

And then… maybe it helps, the echo of laughter in a room, even if it’s only for a moment.

Because suddenly Lucas just launches right into it: how he ran back inside, Dustin in tow and, still catching his breath, it had taken him a few seconds to realise that he couldn’t hear Max’s tape playing.

“Erica noticed first,” he stays, staring into the glass of water. “Her voice went all strange and—I’d never heard her like—like that before. Then she pointed, and I saw… Max had taken her headphones off.”

He grips the glass tightly. The back of his hand dashes away the tears at first, but then he just lets them fall—slow and sluggish tracks, like he’s not even aware that he’s crying anymore.

“Steve, she was… She was begging. For—for him to…”

Steve breathes out, passes a hand across his face. “Jesus, Sinclair, I’m—”

“I love her so much,” Lucas whispers with a certainty that’s much greater than his years, “but I c-couldn’t reach her. It was like she—the only thing that stopped her was…”

“When everything went to shit,” Dustin says when it’s clear Lucas can’t go on.

And it’s like Eddie can hear it, suddenly—that oppressive silence. Feeling like there was no air left to breathe, that there never would be again.

“Steve? Steve.”

Steve’s eyes, glassy and gone, no light behind them. The awful stillness of his chest.

The world ripping apart.

Eddie presses a finger hard to the inner corner of one eye, a vain attempt to block out the image. He thinks of the kids being thrown to their knees with the force of it, a window shattering—and as the rest of Hawkins screamed with no understanding, they would know exactly what it meant.

Lucas and Dustin look like they’re reliving it, too, their faces drawn.

Eddie thinks back to the RV, when Nancy first laid out the apocalyptic vision that had been forced upon her. Eddie, once again a silent watcher in the crowd, his eyes drifting over them all, noticing every twitch, every grim set to their mouth—a horrifying sense of resignation. Eddie thinking yet again that Jesus, they’re used to this.

He had thought that he’d reached his breaking point with Chrissy’s death, and then…

But the others, they’ve had years of this, stretched thin like elastic. Eddie remembers as they began the drive back to Hawkins, as the rest of them gradually dropped off to sleep. Remembers thinking, right before he caught Steve’s whisper, How much more can they take?

It’s Steve’s voice that brings him back. He starts a little at the sound.

“Lucas, you… you would’ve reached her, okay? You’d have brought her back, I know that you…”

There’s a look that passes between the three of them, Steve, Dustin and Lucas: some shared understanding. They’d barely talked about what happened when Vecna’s curse took hold of Max, apart from the song that saved her. The most Eddie is aware of is that it happened in the graveyard.

The rest is not for him to know, he thinks.

“Look, I’m not—I’m not in her head, but I don’t think she wanted to—to—” Steve says, and he stumbles a bit over the words, voice growing a little thick with emotion. “She was… scared. Really scared. And that’s—that’s on me, man.”

For barely a second, Steve’s eyes flicker over to Eddie’s. Then he looks away.

“I’ll talk to her,” Steve says, and it sounds like I’ll fix it, I’m sorry, I swear. His shoulders tense, and Eddie can practically feel it, another load this fucking selfless boy takes on like it’s as natural as breathing, and he kind of wants to cry.

He doesn’t.

-

Max doesn’t ring the doorbell, opens the front door so quietly that Eddie only notices when a gust of wind shuts it behind her.

After a grateful phone call from Steve, Claudia Henderson had given Lucas and Dustin a ride home; the emptiness of the house is now all too apparent as Max stares Eddie down in the hallway.

“Hey, Red,” Eddie says, aims to be soft enough to soothe, not too much for fear that it’ll get her hackles up. He can feel the tension within her, can almost hear the grinding of her teeth. He can’t fuck this up. One wrong move, and she’ll run.

He gestures through to the living room. She clips him with her shoulder as she barges past him, and that’s fine; if it makes it hurt a little less for her, he’ll take more than that.

She stands in front of the couch where Steve sits. She wraps one arm around herself, a move Eddie recognises. Unconscious self-defence. He thinks of her voice over the walkie, still managing to laugh at Steve’s movies. Marvels in a horrified sort of way at how long she’s been pushing everything down.

“I’m sorry,” Max says. She looks down at the floor.

Eddie moves slowly, stands at the end of the couch, not too close to Max. Steve turns to him very slightly, eyes flitting between the two of them.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear it to know what Steve means. Be careful.

Eddie barely moves his head in a nod. I know.

“I’m not staying long, so just.” Max raises her chin, and her eyes are burning—and people who didn’t know any better might call that defiance. Eddie doesn’t. “Just tell me.”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. He glances down at the coffee table, where the cracked tape still lies.

“Tell you what, Max?” he asks, so quiet, so worried—like he’s scared that with just one word, he’ll ruin everything.

“What I did wrong,” Max says. She scrubs at her eyes, blinks up at the ceiling, and Steve’s face falls.

“You didn’t—”

Max sighs harshly. “I’m not stupid. You can—” She turns to Eddie, and he watches in horror as she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing herself, like Eddie might crack first, might give her the judgement she’s desperately searching for. “You can say it.”

“Max,” Steve says.

“I fucked up the plan. It was meant to be me. There—there must’ve been a reason that he—”

“No,” Steve says, and the word is strong, his resolve clear. “Max, listen to me. No.”

But Max shakes her head. “I must’ve done something, I know I did, I made him get in your head—”

“That’s not how it works,” Steve says, kind but firm. “Max, it was—nothing is worth you—”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” Max whispers. “I was marked already, asshole, he was coming back to claim—”

“Oh my god, no,” Steve repeats. “Max, what? He had no claim on you, you never deserved—”

“And you did?” Max challenges. Her lips are trembling.

“No,” Steve says, gentle. “But… hey, listen, it. It would’ve been—”

“No, it wouldn’t have been!” Max explodes, and she’s shaking where she stands, like she might break apart. “It wouldn’t have been worth it or okay or whatever bullshit you were about to—”

“All right, all right—”

“You would’ve been gone.” And all at once, she goes very still. “You were gone.”

She pinches the skin on the back of her hand, hard enough to hurt, and Eddie thinks that’s enough.

He walks over, as slowly as he can. He doesn’t touch her, but he stands close enough that she could reach out if she wanted to.

God, Red. Please let me help you.

Max snarls as he lifts one hand in offering. “Fuck off,” she breathes, and she strikes out, hits him in the chest. It’s hard enough for him to have to bite back a gasp, but that’s fine; as far as he’s concerned, she can hit him all she likes.

But that doesn’t last long. At some point, her hand clenches around his shirt, and she just holds on.

Hardly daring to breathe, he slowly reaches out and steadies her, both hands around her elbows.

“Easy, I’ve got you. You wanna… walk with me? That’s it, there you—”

Eddie only lets go after he leads her to Steve. She sobs, once, twice, then the dam breaks as Steve sits up, pulls her close.

“Max, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It wasn’t fucking fair. Shh, hey, hey, there was nothing you could’ve—oh, baby.” His voice fades away for a moment, the barely held back tears audible. He kisses her temple. “Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I’m here, okay? Shh, shh. Hey, we made it, huh? We’re gonna be all right.”

She cries it out for a while—eventually, all Eddie can hear is her stuttering breaths, slowly evening out.

“Oh,” Steve sighs shakily, and he strokes Max’s hair off her face, catches Eddie’s eye and mouths over the top of her head: She’s asleep.

Eddie gets a blanket from the arm of the couch, tucks it around her—knows that Steve won’t be moving one inch, not even when the angle he’s sitting at is bound to make his leg ache.

“I’ll call her… mom?” Eddie says, cautiously.

Steve thinks about it, then nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs, presses another kiss to Max’s temple when her chin dips down in sleep. “That should be… Lucas said that they’re both staying with his folks for a bit.”

As Steve’s speaking, a tear falls down his cheek. You’d never have known, Eddie thinks, not unless you were looking for it.

On impulse, he runs a hand through Steve’s hair before heading to the phone, and hopes that it says enough.

-

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Steve says dully. He’s fiddling with one of his pills, rolling it back and forth on the counter.

Eddie pauses, mid-taking a can of Coke out of the fridge. It’s just the two of them again, an exhausted Max picked up by her mother, who somehow barely batted an eye when Eddie answered the door and led her to her still sleeping daughter; Dustin picking up schoolwork—of all things—from his house.

“Like what?”

Steve swallows the pill dry, which makes Eddie inwardly wince.

“I hoped it wouldn’t be like this,” he corrects, not answering the question.

Eddie leans against the counter with his hip, opens the can. Waits.

“It’s just… I spent some time thinking about it, you know? Well.” Steve laughs humourlessly. “Not like I had that much time to… weigh it all up, but…” He sighs. “I thought they’d be okay, if…”

Eddie sets down the can before his hand can shake.

“It’s just. Like. I know you weren’t there for it all, but I guess I kinda… got used to them bouncing back? Sort of. Um, we all needed to.” He swallows. “I had to think that they’d be okay,” he whispers. “That was, like, one of the only thoughts that kept me from…” Steve shakes his head, eyes far-off again, and for a moment they’re in the RV, and Steve is saying, gaze fixed determinedly ahead, Listen, I can see a clock in the middle of the goddamn road, okay?

“From losing it,” Steve finishes.

There’s a tremor to Steve’s fingers as they drum on the counter, uneasy taps.

Eddie reaches over, gently stills him—two of his fingers resting on Steve’s knuckles.

“They bounced back from monsters, Steve,” he says slowly. “Not from… not from losing people.” From losing you.

Steve covers his eyes with the hand Eddie isn’t touching. Breathes in and out. Shudders.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, choked. “Just… ignore me for a second, Eddie.”

At first, Eddie tries to, because that’s what Steve had asked, but then Steve’s hand moves on the counter, until he’s gripping onto Eddie’s hand tightly; and Eddie holds on as Steve’s tremor moves up through his arm, his chest, until it’s all of him.

Do you see the gaping hole you would have left? Eddie thinks. Bites down on his lip to keep from crying, because this isn’t about him. Do you see how much they would have missed you?

Do you get it now, how much they love you?

But as Steve weeps for his family, for himself, Eddie can’t hold back the thought, as inevitable as the tide going out.

I would have fucking mourned you forever.

-

Sometimes in between the afternoon and evening doses of medicine, Steve drifts off into a kind of waking sleep—he’s still there enough to be roused if someone asks him a question, but his head nods sleepily more often than not, half-caught in a dream.

In the quiet, Dustin returns, finds a gap in the couch so he can sit next to Steve without jostling him—then sets about doing homework, and Eddie can’t begin to imagine how he’s focusing on it. But then again, Dustin has the kind of mind that once wanted to solve a Russian code for kicks in the summer vacation.

It’s peaceful.

Peaceful until Steve’s head jerks up with a ragged gasp.

And before Eddie can even say anything, Steve grips Dustin by the shoulders.

“Oh, you’re—” Steve exhales, chest catching on it. “Oh.”

His eyes are wild, darting all over Dustin, face cracked open with a vulnerability he’d never show if he was fully awake. His hand reaches up, moves through Dustin’s hair, searching, searching.

“Steve,” Dustin says, but it’s not a question. Like he kind of knows, understands just enough without being told.

And as Steve cups the back of Dustin’s head, Eddie gets it. He’s looking for blood.

“It wasn’t real, Steve,” Dustin says, with a clarity and kindness that makes Eddie think oh, I fucking love you, Dustin Henderson. “We’re good. Okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve answers, hooks his chin over Dustin’s head and hugs him. -

When the phone rings, Eddie picks up quickly; Dustin and Steve are both fast asleep, heads lolling onto the back of the couch.

It’s Wayne—and he doesn’t sound all that surprised to hear Eddie answer.

“How’d you know I was still here?” Eddie asks.

“Made an educated guess,” Wayne says. He sounds fond. “That and Joyce Byers called.”

Oh, Eddie thinks. And then, of course she did.

“We’re on the list,” Wayne says, “to get re-housed. S’going quicker than expected. Reckon that they,” he stresses the word like it’s a capital They, “don’t wanna give folks too much time to complain.”

He says it with such ease, and Eddie’s suddenly thrown back to him arriving at the trailer, small and angry and afraid, and Wayne just looking at him, saying gently, “Well, kid, we’ll make it work.”

Eddie sighs into the receiver. “I’m sorry—”

“Ed, shut the hell up,” Wayne says through an obvious smile, and Eddie chokes out a laugh that’s slightly wet around the edges.

-

The phone rings again, and this time it’s Jim Hopper.

“Look alive, Munson. Got a number for you.”

“Oh, uh.” Eddie runs about for a notepad and pen. “Okay?”

Hopper fires off a number which Eddie copies down and underlines, just because it feels like that’s the kind of thing he should do.

“That’s a private number, got it? Ring if there’s any trouble.”

“Um, sure,” Eddie says. “I’ll, uh. I’ll tell Steve.”

“No, kid, that’s for you,” Hopper says before abruptly hanging up.

When Eddie sets the phone down, Steve is sitting up, Dustin stirring and grumbling a complaint. He hears Steve laugh under his breath: “That’s what you get for trying to do math right now, dude.”

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor in front of them. Thinking.

“You okay?” Steve asks.

“Jim Hopper’s fuckin’ weird,” Eddie says distantly.

Steve snorts. “Wow. And that’s coming from you.”

Dustin giggles himself awake as Eddie flips him the bird.

-

Jonathan Byers comes round just as Dustin heads upstairs to use the shower which—okay, sure. Eddie’s getting used to the whole people coming and going thing, and in theory he knows that obviously Jonathan’s been around for this since the beginning, but it’s another thing to see it in person.

It’s like an annoyingly stubborn part of his brain is still stuck on high school, looking at Jonathan and Steve in the same room, whining: But that’s not right—your kind don’t mix.

Jonathan’s polite, Eddie will give him that, but it’s obvious from the outset that he’s just here to speak to Steve.

Eddie leaves them to it in the living room, but it’s hard not to overhear, even when he’s doing his best to concentrate on the hum of the microwave as he heats through casserole.

“She’s staying in her room a lot, and you know what her mom’s like, Steve, she won’t—”

“Yeah, Robin said she tried to call, got no answer.”

“The most I could get her to talk was when she was with Holly. It’s like she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Yeah, I… God, I don’t know. Wish I knew how to…”

“Me, too. But you’ll… you’ll call right, if she…? Fuck, it scares me sometimes, she’s so quiet. Don’t know if she’ll even turn to anyone.”

“Yeah, Jonathan, ‘course I’ll… Look, it’s just. It’s just been a lot, man. For all of us. She just needs some time, I think.”

“Yeah, I—sorry. I just worry.”

“Me, too.”

Eddie punches the buttons, sets the microwave on again before it can screech at him.

Jonathan leaves soon after that, gives Eddie a slightly awkward but sincere smile, bids goodbye to Steve with a, “Look after yourself, Steve.”

There’s a weight behind those words.

“Wheeler okay?” Eddie asks, once the front door has shut.

Steve sighs. “Hope so.”

The silence is heavy, and because Eddie can’t leave well enough alone, and apparently has a compulsion to put his foot in his mouth when it comes to this pair, blurts out, “Yeah, I kinda thought you two were a sure thing, man.”

Steve gives him a sideways look that Eddie can’t quite read. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

Steve shrugs. “Like… imagine other people’s futures.”

It’s not said, but Eddie can hear the instead of your own loud and clear.

The embarrassment is expected. What isn’t is how he strangely welcomes it—no-one’s seen him like that before, cut right down to the core of him.

It’s his turn to shrug. “Kind of? It’s… you know what this town’s like, man. People and, like, how it’s all gonna turn out… some folks’ lives are easier to imagine than, uh. Others.”  

It was a bit like solving a simple puzzle piece: it had been easy to imagine Nancy and Steve together, to picture them as they were back then, young and sweet in the school corridors… using the belief in them as a sure thing to try and keep himself from losing it in a world turned (literally) upside down.

Steve’s lips twitch at the corners into a little smile. “Thought your whole thing was how people can defy expectations, or whatever.”

“Yeah, well. Even I’m not immune to hypocrisy, Harrington.”

Steve huffs a laugh. Hums. “I think I was always meant to love her,” he says, slow and thoughtful, “just… not in that way.”

“…Oh.”

Steve’s smile shifts into something melancholy. “I think we were both lonely, y’know? And, like… too similar. We both got trapped in our heads whenever shit went sideways. So if we needed, like, help or just… we couldn’t… couldn’t reach each other. Does that make sense?”

Eddie nods faintly.

“Eddie, can you promise me something?”

Eddie nods again, holds Steve’s gaze. Anything.

“Nance, if she—if she comes to you, just… be there for her?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but Steve keeps talking.

“I mean, ‘cause, you’re a good listener, man. And you’re kind. You can… see people.”

And Eddie suddenly has to hold his breath. He knows what Steve is referring to, thinks of how he recounted his meeting with Chrissy in the woods, as the group hiked from Skull Rock. I don’t know, man, I just knew something was up with her. Like, something was really wrong.

But the way Steve speaks to him—there’s more underneath the words. Kind of sounds like You can see me, too.

Eddie swallows through the burning in his throat. “I will,” he promises.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steve and erica #steve and lucas #steve and max #steve and dustin #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #eddie and erica #steve and nancy #eddie and nancy #eddie and max #steve and jonathan

[oomisluvr]

wisdom teeth removal, a drabble

synopsis: kiyoomi gets his wisdom teeth removed and wants nothing more than to be with you. sakusa is very whiny and you indulge him in his requests. mild suggestiveness, heavy fluff. beware.

"alright, everything went smoothly. just make sure he doesn't touch his mouth too much and be sure ice his face to lessen the swelling. other than that, you guys are set! you're free to go home whenever." the nurse spoke clearly and professionally, moving to hand you the painkillers kiyoomi would need in a few hours. you reach out your hand and take it.

"thank you so much. i hope he didn't give you too much trouble." both you and the nurse look over kiyoomi's state. he practically unconsious, barely able to life his head and breathing slowly.

"he did just fine. it's funny really; when we had him count down from ten when we administered the anesthetic, he passed before he could even begin counting. most people don't knock out until five or less."

"that sounds like him. absolutely zero tolerance for drugs. not so fun at parties," you joke. putting the medicine into your bag you approach him, speaking gently, "hey big guy, it's time to go home now." he jerks his head up and looks at you wide eyed.

"we can't go yet, i have to have surgery!" he mumbles through the gauze in him mouth, writhing in his chair to showcase his discomfort. dazed and confused, he reaches his hands to dig into his mouth. you reach out and stop him. his eyes get impossible wider, "they took my teeth already?"

"mhm, you're all good to go. now you get to go home."

"with you?"

"yes, baby."

"really?"

"yep, and komori is waiting outside to take us home."

he giggles, his hands grabbing yours to snuggle his face into them, "I get to go home with you, I get to go home with you," you remove his face from your hands and interlock your fingers with his, gently pulling his body so he could stand. he's smiling the whole time, "what do we get to do when we get home?"

you send him a sharp look, finally pulling him to his feet. he puts an arm over your shoulder and puts nearly all his body weight on you, "oomi, don't get any ideas. you need to rest when we get home."

he frowns, "no, i don't have practice for like the next week," he pouts, "rest with me."

"if you don't give me a hard time, we can stay in bed all day, alright baby?" he nods his head

"i won't be difficult, i promise."

---

it took all but eight minutes for sakusa to forget his promise. you've managed to sit him inside the passenger seat of the car, but he's throwing a tantrum because he also want to sit with you. the realization that he can't have both brings him to the verge of tears.

"no! the backseat makes me car sick, i wanna stay here!" kiyoomi whines, very distressed. you squat down to his eye level while he sits inside the car. you've been going back and forth for the past five minutes.

"okay, you can stay up here then, but i'll have to sit in the backseat since komori is driving." you hold his hands and slowly rub your thumb over his hand, trying to calm him down.

"no! i want you to sit with me."

"okay baby, if I sit with you, then you'll have to sit in the backseat." he shakes his head so violently, you thought gauze was going to fly out his mouth. his eyes look glassy.

"no, sit in the front with me! please?"

"kiyoomi, baby, that's illegal. if we do that, then komori will get in trouble. you don't want your cousin to get in trouble do you?" he sighs.

"no, i down want that to happen." he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

"alright, then it's your choice: the backseat with me or the passenger seat by yourself."

"i don't want to be by myself. i want to go with you."

"okay then. if you get motion sick, i'll take care of you. alright, baby? don't worry about it."

"yes, that's alright. please take care of me."

"then what are he doing here? c'mon, come with me."

"okay." he smiles softly.

clumsily, you two maneuver to the back seat. komori looks very amused at Sakusa's state. he shoots you a look that says 'damn, you're whipped' and you respond with a 'shut the fuck up' in your glare. both you and kiyoomi manage to get into the backseat after more whining, but luckily he's still feeling fine.

suddenly, he throws an arm over his eyes and groans loudly. you and komori share a look of panic.

"baby, what's wrong? are you feeling alright?"

"no," he doesn't meet your eyes, "i feel carsick." komori struggles to hide his laugh. you decide to entertain kiyoomi.

"already, omi? but the car isn't moving?" you feign shock.

"yes, i'm a very serious case."

"i'm sorry to hear that," you frown, faking pity, "is there something I can do to make it better?" he nods his head.

"you could sit on my lap." kiyoomi suggests. komori fucking loses it in the drivers seat, howling with laughter. you can't help but smile at his antics. who are you to deny him? especially in his state.

"poor baby," you coddle, maneuvering yourself to sit on his lap, legs thrown over his and an arm wrapped around his neck. your head rests on the window. "do you feel better yet, omi?"

he nods and wraps his arms around your torso, closing his eyes, "yes, i feel much better now."

komori meets you eyes in the rear-view, doing a poor job of masking his amusement, "ready to go?"

"yes," you sigh, "ready to go."

he puts the car in reverse, backing out of the parking lot before speeding away. the ride was mostly peaceful, until kiyoomi claims he's carsick again and demands that you kiss him to get rid of his nausea. the conversation you're having with komori gets interrupted nearly every two minutes. sakusa tries to count your eyelashes and pokes your eyebell several times. he pulls at the hair on the nape of your neck. he sticks his fingers in your belly button. he pinches and pokes at your face to get your attention. komori doesn't seem to mind.

upon arriving at your apartment, komori turns on the hazard lights and moves to open the car door for you and sakusa. kiyoomi, for the up tenth time that day, begins to whine very loudly."

"no!" he hugs you tighter, "i don't wanna get out. i wanna stay here."

"why don't you want to go home, my love?" you ask, softly stroking his cheekbone.

"i like when you're on my lap. we can't leave yet."

"i can sit on your lap when we get home," your voice drops an active and you lean to speak directly in his ear, "actually, i can do more than sit on your lap when we get home." komori gags. kiyoomi's eyes widen like he's having a heart attack. he acts like you don't keep him well fed.

"we need to get inside."

"mhm, that's what I thought. c'mon kiyo."

komori graciously helps you out the car, sending you a soft look you can't quite read. you don't focus on it for now, prioritizing the task of getting kiyoomi out of the car. it isn't that hard; he basically jumps out. he doesn't even look for your help anymore, stumbling towards the door to the complex. you move to chase after him, but komori stops you.

"y/n!" you look over your shoulder.

"yeah?"

"thank you," he leans on the car, "thank you for taking care of him. he's the best version of himself when he's with you." you both move to look at sakusa, pulling on a door clearly labeled push, accompanied with even more loud whining. you smile.

"there isn't anything else I'd rather be doing. the pleasure is all mine. drive safe, komori!" you wave him off. he nods and gets back into the driver seat, turning off the hazards and driving away.

"y/n! i think they locked us out!"

—————————

feedback is always appreciated <33

#kiyoomi sakusa #kiyoomi #msby sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #msby sakusa #sakusa #sakusa scenarios #sakusa drabble #sakusa oneshot #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #msby jackals #msby #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Pretty Boys (Levi Ackerman X Eren Yaegar x Jean Kirstein x Reader)

Description: Why want one when you could have them all? The boys fight over you, so in your frustration you give them an ultimatum, one they really can't refuse.

Character(s): y/n, Eren, Jean, Levi, Mikasa, Armin, Hanje

POV: 2nd person

Warning(s): fluff, angst, cursing, you're a sexy queen

A/n: hello! New year's is coming up so as a new year's gift I give you this. I couldn't decide if I wanted to do smut for this or if I wanted to do a sequel of some sort but I think unless it's requested this'll do. This will be my last work for Attack on Titan. Again, feel free to request anything abt it though.

Word count:

Song: nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex

*none of the gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker.

You tugged your hair back, fingers nimbly working to tie the strands of your hair back into a proper pony tail. Sweat dripped from your neck, the summer weather taking a toll on your body and your work. You fanned yourself, huffing out a sigh.

"Taking a break?" You turned, coming face to face with Jean. He had the reigns of his horse in his right hand, leading the animal to where you stood, by the training area. He smiled, seemingly unfazed by the sweltering heat.

"I should ask you the same thing. Where have you been?" You crossed your arms, getting yourself prepared for whatever lackluster answer Jean was about to provide. Jean simply handed you the reigns, gently taking your hand and pressing the reigns into your palms.

"I've been taking care of the horses, believe it or not they like to bathe too." You huffed at his answer, but looked up at him and raised the reigns questionably. "What is this?" The brown eyed boy smiled again, crossing his arms. He leaned against the animal causally, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "This is Ren. She's new and needs a rider. So, I was thinking..."

You broke out into a wide smile. During the last mission, a particularly brutal one, you'd lost your horse. You loved that animal- he'd gotten you out of serious trouble in the past. Always faithful until the end...that had nearly torn you apart, as nothing was more villainess to you than to kill an innocent animal.

Before you could stop yourself you practically tackled the blonde, pulling him into a tight hug.

You and Jean had been close since the battle for trost, the two of you working side by side after being assigned the same squad. After giving pleasantries neither of you seemed focused on maintaining a friendship beyond just surviving- that was until you'd lost him.

Jean had gone missing in the chaos, you searching roof tops and buildings until finally you found his figure, hunched over.

You remember how badly he shook, tears streaming from his brown eyes. "Jean?" He hadn't spoken a word to you, but he hadn't needed to. You took his face in your hands and forced him to look at you.

You delivered a breathing technique that you'd taught yourself when you got nightmares after the wall fell. You waited until his breathing evened out and he seemed to be in a better headspace before you hugged him, gently.

Your kindness caught him off guard- especially for someone going the scouts- but he never forgot it.

Your grip tightened around him, practically squeezing the life out of him. "Oh Jean! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You couldn't see it but his cheeks were as red as cherries and his eyes were as wide as saucers. "Uh, yeah. No- no problem."

"Oi, what the hell are you two doing?" The sound of your captains voice rang through the field and you gently let go of your comrade. "Jean got me a new horse!" You squealed at your stone faced commander, who's eyes were narrowed at a still blushing Jean.

"That's very kind of him. Especially since I wasn't aware he was able to give away our horses." Jean straightened, his eyes still wide. "Well, no not technically, I just- the horse needed- needed an owner and since...ya know, I figured." Levi just stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "Tch, you are an bumbling idiot, but as long as y/n's happy with it?" You nodded empathically.

"Uh, thank you, sir." Jean stuttered again, and Levi rolled his eyes. "Shut up." "Right, right. I better go...clean something." Jean cast one last glance in your direction before he left, leaving the horse in your care.

Levi watched him go as you turned to Ren, softly petting her snout.

Gently a hand reached out beside you, joining in in stroking the horse. "She is very lovely, I'll give him that." You smiled at Levi's words.

"Maybe someday I'll let you ride her." You laughed, turning suddenly. You hadn't realized though how close the two of you had gotten when he reached over your shoulder to pet Ren, and suddenly the two of you were mere inches from one another's faces.

Your eyes widened at the degree of closeness, until Levi's own gaze flickered to meet yours. You smiled at him and his lips upturned the slightest. You opened your mouth to speak but once more you were interrupted with the arrival of a cadet. "Captain Levi, sir! Commander Erwin requested your presence for a meeting about-"

Levi waved him off. "Tch, save it, I'm coming." Levi turned back to you but jumped a little when the cadet spoke again, obviously having figured he'd be leaving. "Captain Levi, I was told to escort you." Levi's expression was tense, but his voice remained eerily calm. "Do you want a gold star, brat? I said I was coming." Levi began his way to the cadet, who seemed much less sure of himself.

"Oh, captain Levi!" You yelled after him, waving your right arm in the air. The two paused both turning in your direction. "Don't forget I'll see you tonight to help you finish the paperwork over the last scouting mission." Levi nodded, his face less tense.

At their leave you also turned, bringing your new horse with you and heading to the stables.

--------------------------------------------------

Your clutched your tray, dodging around the people who stood and talked in the lunchroom. You searched for Eren, and found him, the boy waving his hand into the air to catch your attention in the crowded room. You smiled, making your way over and putting your tray down directly beside him.

Armin and Mikasa were already there, talking about something that happened on a recent mission. Eren grinned at you when you say down, his green eyes brightly shining in the lunchroom a light.

"How was training today, y/n?" Eren asked as he handed you his piece of bread. The two of you often shared food, and by now it had become second nature to do so.

You met when you were especially young, living only a few houses down from each other. You'd play, daydream, and defend Armin together. Although you were much more mild mannered- something Eren teased you about- you got along quite well. The two of you brought out an especially different side of one another.

But there was something the two of you shared deeply to your core and it was the need to protect. You'd both do whatever you could to protect those you cared about. It showed, but just in different ways. Armin often joked that you were the mother figure of the group and Eren the father.

You never noticed how bright Eren's cheeks turned.

"It went really well. Jean got me a new horse." You took a bite of bred, missing the way something dark passed over Eren's eyes.

Damn him.

Eren kept his smile as he leaned into you a bit, remaining his usual self. "Oh? Then you'll be back to riding with us soon." You shared his smile. "Yeah, as long as Levi approves. I'll be ready to kill some Titan's." Your enthusiasm caused Eren to blush, and he looked down at his watery soup. "Good, good."

He brought his spoon to his mouth, about to eat when Jean's voice thundered behind him. Immediately he straightened, but kept his body still for the main part. "Y/n, how are you liking Ren?"

Jean arrived behind you, tray in hand, and a sly smile on his face. Instantly you tapped the empty seat on the other side of you, wordlessly inviting him to sit down. He did so, and you turned away from Eren who noticably tensed.

"Yes! She's so lovely. I really can't thank you enough, Jean." As you spoke you placed your hand on his knee, Jean watching your movements intensely. His cheeks blushed as he met your kind eyes, an aw shucks expression on his blushing face. Meanwhile, Eren rolled his eyes on the other side of you, clearly finding this act overdone.

"Y/n," Eren caught your attention again, and you shifted from Jean back to your green eyes friend. "Since tomorrow's our day off, I was wondering if you'd like to practice some new techniques before you start going on missions again."

You opened your mouth to respond but before you could do so, Jean interjected. "You really think y/n would want to spend her day off training? Especially with a titan?" Eren answered him, but kept his eyes on you. "Spending the day training together is a great use of time, especially since she hasn't been in the field for a bit. Regardless of whether or not I'm a titan- the two of us still share the same goal-"

Jean laughed bitterly. "Oh can it, Titan boy. You just wanna spend the day alone with y/n." Now it was your turn to blush. "Uhh...guys."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Well at least I'm man enough to ask her to spend the day with me, unlike you, who'll just follow her around like a dog on a leash." Immediately the two stood up, bringing their faces inches apart. "Did you just call me a dog, Yaeger?" "You called me Titan boy."

You stood, turning to Mikasa and Armin who were watching with confusion as Jean and Eren engaged in a heated argument, in which neither were completely sure what it was about. "I'm gonna go, but if they calm down please tell them I'm open to spending my day off with both of them." "Sure thing, y/n." "Yeah, of course."

You side stepped the two boys and left the lunchroom, deciding that now was as good of a time as ever to go work with Levi to finish paperwork.

You left the lunchroom, making your way to Levi's office. You cast one last glance at Eren and Jean's figures. Biting your lip you hummed, and moved on, a dangerous new gleam in your eye.

--------------------------------------------------

"Why you little-" "Hey, where did y/n go?" The two boys pulled apart, casting wide glances around them. Eren found Mikasa. "She left a little bit ago, Ereh." Jean spun around. "You scared her off!" Eren glared at the blonde. "I scared her off? You're the one who-" Mikasa continued, "She did say that she wanted the spend her day off with both you, though."

Jean frowned and Eren's brow furrowed. The two shared a new type of look- one of confusion. Then they separated, still carrying the same tense jealousy as before but now it was dulled by confusion and a strange satisfaction. "Fine by me." "Sure, whatever."

--------------------------------------------------

You stopped in front of Levi's office door. Calmly, you knocked and waited for the captain to call out to you.

"tch, come in brat."

You opened the door, smiling gently at Levi's tired expression. He had stacks in front of him and it reminded you fo the first time you started helping him finish paperwork.

One night you were sent by Hanje to deliver some files to the scout leader, and you had knocked several times, none gave you an answer. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you and you let yourself in.

Levi was asleep over his desk, hair covering his face. He had to have been out cold, and it had absolutely surprised you, since you knew Levi barely ever slept let alone in the middle of doing something important. But there he was, dead asleep in front of you.

You first smiled, noticing how pretty he looked when he wasn't stressed or tense. Peaceful had been a good look on him.

You wouldn't dare wake him up as any other "brat" would've, instead your slipped some papers out from under him and began working.

You were driven by efficiency, and often if you wanted something done you wanted it done now, so it was easy to get through the paperwork- each answer meticulous and to Levi's liking.

After he woke up several hours later to you working quietly beside him, the two of you enjoyed quiet nights of paperwork, working side by side and talking in between.

Today, Levi was awake, but looked exhausted as he sat at his desk. He was illuminated by a single candle, and two cups of tea placed side by side claimed the edge of the table.

Your captain nodded to them. "Don't worry, I made the tea this time. I'm never trusting Hanje with the pot ever again." You snorted, carefully picking up a cup and sitting in front of Levi. "It wasn't that bad."

"tch, it wasn't even black." You hummed, taking a sip. He handed you stack, making sure you had enough room to work. "you, know, there's this bakery in town I think you'll really like. They have the best bread. It'd go so well with your tea."

You spoke while you worked, filling in each blank efficiently. "In town?" You nodded. Levi didn't like going out often, the thought was quite unappealing, unless... "Tomorrow's a day off, isn't it?" You hummed.

"tch, take me there tomorrow then." You looked up. "I don't know if I'll be able to, I have plans with Jean and Eren." Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They'll be busy tomorrow." You frowned. "What? But tomorrow-" "They have stable duty all day tomorrow."

You stopped working and Levi looked up to meet your gaze. "What? What for?" Levi's face remained expressionless as he explained, giving you a long shpeal about them needing to learn to work together better and that the best way to do that was for them to spend that day cleaning.

Satisfied with himself Levi moved on, going back to work. You were still stunned. "Where in town is this bakery?" When you didn't reply he looked up, gently tapping your forehead. "Oi, pay attention, brat." You blinked away your confusion before rejoining in conversation with Levi.

Before long you two had switched to several different subjects and when you finally finished working the tea pot had become completely empty.

You stretched out your arms as Levi rubbed his eyes. "Well, that's all of it." Your breathed, crossing your arms over your chest. "tch," Levi laughed without humor. "For tonight." You smiled and lifted yourself up. "For tonight." You got to the door, before turning back to Levi.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" In the darkness of the room you could've sworn you saw Levi smile. "Tomorrow."

The door opened and closed softly and Levi waited until he could no longer hear the soft padding of your feet before he lifted himself up from his desk and carried his tired body to his room.

--------------------------------------------------

Eren was practically stomping when he left his room. Another cadet had delivered the news of his punishment, and each step Eren took seemed angrier than the last.

Eren loved you- loved you since you two had met outside of your home, just a few doors down from his own. You seemed less edgy than he- less angry and more gentle. It shocked him, but it also lured him into your caress.

For a long time you were his best secret, and it was definitely selfish of him- but...the thought of losing you caused his fists to clench.

Losing you to titans was one thing- and losing you to Jean Kirstein was a completely different thing. Improbable, impossible, and definitely not happening.

Eren entered the stable and saw that he had beat Jean there. He grabbed a broom and immediately began sweeping, hoping to burn off some steam before the arrival of Jean and Levi.

Jean was slow in every single movement. It was his day off, goddamnit and instead of spending it with you, he was spending it with Eren. He scoffed in disgust. Captain Levi's plan to somehow teach them team work was definitely going to give someone a black eye- and Jean just knew it was going to be him.

He just wanted to spend some time with you- and maybe Eren was right- he did follow you around like a puppy, but that was because he really really really liked you. Okay he kind of loved you.

You've always been there for him, especially when Marco died. You've even met his mother before. Jean doesn't allow many people into his private life let alone share the parts of him he's buried deep under a shell of heat and anger.

But somehow you were able to worm your way in.

Jean sighed at the door of the stable. He opened it and directly in his eyeline stood Eren, who had already begun sweeping.

They stared at each other.

"Where's the mop at?"

Levi had been having a pretty fair day- which was saying a lot. He was going to met you at the front part of building but before then he'd figure he'd check up on the two brats he'd put on stable duty.

Sure, maybe the reason he sent them on stable duty was for more selfish reasons then helpful ones. But Eren and Jean's apprehension to one another annoyed the hell out of him, not to mention he enjoyed causing a little innocent chaos where his cadets were concerned.

At the root though was you. Those brats saw you day and night, 24/7. He had noticed they way they looked at you, the way Eren refused to be with any other squad or person unless you were there, the way Jean seemed to follow you around.

That also annoyed the hell out of him. Of course boys in love was something he'd seen many times before.

However he'd never experienced it himself- that was until you came.

He quickly understood that it was your nature to be caring, gentle, and protective. That wasn't what caught his attention, actually.

What caught his attention was the way you worked- your focus, attention, drive. It was all surpremely attractive to him. He'd seen gentle and caring people die too often. Their nature being the reason for it.

But you held yourself differently. You had something more calculated driving you, and you weren't just another person Levi had to worry about.

That combination of skill and personality made Levi comfortable and much less tense.

He walked into the stable, seeing the two men begrudgingly work to clean the floor.

"Oi, brats, you missed a spot."

At the sound of his voice they turned, jumping to salute him.

"I'll be back around five, so that should be enough time for this shithole to be spotless."

"Yes, sir."

"No problem, Captain Levi."

He turned.

"Wait, captain!" Eren's voice caused him to turn back around albeit a bit threateningly. "What, brat?"

"Where are you going?" Eren was well aware that Levi rarely left- if ever during a day off so the Captain's sudden departure worried him- was there a titan problem he should know about?

Levi smiled to the shock of his cadets.

"Oh, I'm going on a date."

He turned.

"With y/n."

He left, the door swinging close behind him.

Jean and Eren watched him go, frozen in place at his words.

"You've got to be kidding me."

--------------------------------------------------

A/n: thanks for reading! Remember requests are open and criticism is always welcome.

--------------------------------------------------

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #eren x reader #eren aot #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yaegar #eren jäger #eren yaegar imagines #eren yaegar x reader #eren jaegar x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #aot imagines #aot headcanons #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x reader

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

#cr fic #critical role fic #essek thelyss #jester lavorre #some shadowgast gossip #ficlet #critical role essek #critical role jester #critical role #modern au

[zodiakuroo]

Envy

EreMika is the villa’s top couple. Reader is hoping to turn one of their heads.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ characters, a good ol' fashioned love triangle, possessive behaviour, dom/sub dynamics, lil angst + lotsa pining, threesome, the sex is kinda messy but so is everything else

Word count: 10.5k (yes it's proofread but it's also kinda not)

Notes: For @doinmybesthere’s love island collab! happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

Lush, mediterranean forests, thick with leaves and the wonder of adventure hidden inside.

Snow white, sandy beaches

Cerulean waters that sparkle in the sunlight and stretch to the edge of the horizon

The view from the infinity pool really is magnificent.

“You and Armin look good together.”

“You think so?” You murmur nonchalantly. The dark shades that cover your eyes dim your surroundings, making it all the more easy for you to see the brilliant figure in front of you.

“You don’t?” Mikasa cocks her head to the side, jet black bangs sweeping across her forehead.

“Armin’s a great guy. He’s my type on paper but… I dunno… I guess I wanna keep my options open.” You chew on your bottom lip, hoping she’ll change the subject. You can’t help the guilt that sits heavy on your heart.

The ‘you’ on the outside would never do something like this. Lead on some poor, innocent soul so you can stay close to the true object of your affections, biding your time until you can confess. Only when you’re certain that said love interest is free to be yours.

“Well, I still think you should lock him down before the recoupling. I don’t want you to get sent home.” Her gentle voice chases away any shame, kind eyes reminding you how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Oh you’d miss me?” You adjust your sunglasses, propping them atop your head, slowly wading towards her

“Of course you idiot.” She deadpans, kicking at the water, splashing in your face a little. You squeak in surprise and retreat a little. “You’re my best friend in the villa.”

If guilt is gnawing at you from one end, on the other end is bitterness, frustration slowly building towards a fever pitch.

Still, you don’t want to think about that now. You’ll only sour this moment for yourself. It’s rare that you get her full attention like this these days.

In the beginning, you two were inseparable almost from the jump. Both of you were a little more on the reserved side, especially stepping into such unusual circumstances. Naturally, you gravitated toward each other. Simply being in each other’s presence was enough to bring both of you out of your respective shells. That was the chemistry between you and Mikasa.

But when he dug his claws into her, your crush became one half of the strongest couple in the villa, leaving you behind to bury your own feelings.

Normally he’s stuck to her like a leech with his arms hanging around her like chains as if he’s afraid she’ll make a break for it any second. Like he’s afraid she’ll realise she’s too good to be catering to his every whim, too good to put up with his moodiness and too smart to fall for his charming front.

“Are you hoping someone new will come into the villa?” Someone ‘more your type’?” She uses air quotations to copy your words.

“Not exactly.” You start, distracted by the way she adjusts her bikini top, the soft flesh bouncing ever so slightly underneath her red bikini. The skin on her nose and on the apples of her cheeks are branded a similar shade thanks to the summer sun.

Your heart thrums against the ungiving wall of your chest, as you drift slowly towards her again, this time until you’re so close you feel her feet, drifting underwater at your waist. “I already have my eye on someone.” You answer as truthfully as possible.

“Are you gonna tell me who?” She furrows her brows curiously as you wrap your fingers around her ankles, slowly moving them up to rest on her calves. You use the position to pull yourself closer to her, until your chin rests on her knees. She leans down, as though she expects you to whisper the name of your crush into her ear.

You press yourself on to tip toes, to meet her halfway. Time seems to slow as you try to figure out what to do.

Lie? Confess? Kiss her?

But time doesn’t slow and-

SPLASH

You don’t get a chance to respond after your moment is ruined with an icy splash from behind you.

“Fucking hell!” You scream swatting water in his direction.

Right on cue.

“Eren what the fuck!” Mikasa scowls at him, clearly not amused either.

“I was just messing with you guys.” The sound of his cheery laugh may as well be nails on a chalkboard to you. “Sorry babe.” He pouts.

He takes up your spot by nudging you out of the way ever so subtly. Except it’s not really subtle. Not to you anyways. It’s pretty reminiscent of when he pushed you to the side when the two of them got together. He’s telling you to remember your place.

“Grow up Jaeger.” You roll your eyes.

With his arrival, discomfort sets into your bones. She accepts his apology almost instantly as always, easily placated with simple kisses. Innocent enough at first, starting over her knees but bit by bit his lips move further and further up her thigh, until she’s pushing him away murmuring “Not here.” As if he cared…

Watching them together, the picture of lovestruck, from a distance is nauseating enough, today you don’t have the willpower to experience it firsthand as a third wheel.

You’re about to excuse yourself when you hear Sasha yell from the opposite end of the pool. “Hey guys! I’ve got a text!”

Everyone shuffles closer, awaiting the message with quiet apprehension. When Sasha opens the message she gasps before reading it, making everyone’s anxiety grow tenfold.

“You don’t have to be a math genius to know that 1+1+1 = a crowd. It’s time to simplify the equation. Eren and ______ , get ready for a date! #LoveTriangle”

All eyes are on you in an instant and you resist the urge to duck down under the water to hide from the cameras. You wonder briefly if it would be easier to breathe down there, rather than up here where the tension is suffocating. Your fellow islanders are murmuring amongst each other but the words are indiscernible, muffled by the blood rushing to your head, face burning hot with embarrassment.

Everyone around you is wearing variations of the same expression; confusion. Sure they all had theories about you and Mikasa. Not that you were exactly subtle about it. Often touches that would linger for just a little bit too long, you would always lean in just a little too close when helping her with her makeup and many a time you’d been caught staring at her from afar. It’s just a little too intimate to be completely platonic but not intimate enough to be considered anything but a friendship. Then again, you never even had a chance to take it further because the only person who didn’t seem to notice was the ever oblivious Mikasa, not when she couldn’t see past the brunette boy with the striking jade eyes.

Now, looking at those very eyes you notice how they’ve lost their usual playfulness. As the exception to the bewildered expressions around you, he looks cold and unreadable. Then the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes but big enough for him to flash his sharp white canines at you.

Mikasa has her eyes fixed to her hands in her lap, picking at her nails (a nervous habit she once told you). She refuses to look at neither you nor Eren.

You want to explain but the right words are nowhere to be found. Right here and now, in front of everyone (including the person she’s currently coupled up with) is not how you wanted her to find out. But you have to say something, anything to take away the melancholy that is so obviously weighing her down, but the words are stuck in your throat and before you can swallow that lump, he interjects.

“I wanna talk to Mikasa real quick.” He addresses you directly. “Why don’t you go ahead and get ready?” He phrases it as a suggestion but it’s more of an order. And just like that, your emotions flip to irritation. Who is he to tell you what to do? Even now, he wants a monopoly of her time and attention. As if your relationship (even just as a friend) might not also be damaged because of this.

And it’s not fair. You have to speak to her as well. You need to tell her that-

“It’s fine.” Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, being mindful of the cameras. It’s obviously not genuine, you can tell but you also know that she’s not one to show her true feelings, especially not publicly like this. But this feels too much for her and that brave face has never been more transparent.

Still, her slate gray irises meet yours. “I’ll be inside to help you get ready in a minute.”

You give an equally artificial smile and then swim across to the other side of the pool, where Sasha lends you her hand to pull you out of the water.

_

The car ride was awkward at best, insufferable at worst. You and Eren weren’t on friendly terms to begin with. Aside from the fact that he was coupled up with your crush, it was safe to say that being alone with him is not something you would ever have done willingly.

Where you found him loud and obnoxious, Mikasa found him excitable and bubbly. Where you saw him as stubborn, Mikasa saw him as driven and headstrong. Where you thought him impulsive and reckless, Mikasa thought him brave and spontaneous. When you said that he was rude and crass, Mikasa would say he was opinionated and outspoken.

It wasn’t as though she couldn’t see the bad sides of Eren but it was that she cared for him in spite of those things. Loyal to a fault she was. You let out a heavy sigh, thinking how much worse that makes all this. She must feel as though the loyalty she felt towards both you and Eren had been spat back into her face.

Silently you stare out the window, head turned away from him. A rare moment when you don’t feel the presence of camera lenses watching your every move.

Your brain is constantly replaying the last conversation you had with Mikasa. True to her word, she did help you choose an outfit and style your hair. But that natural comfort was gone.

No. That’s not true. The bond may be strained but it’s not broken. You can still do something to fix it. But neither of you were willing to address the elephant in the room.

Well, that's not exactly it.

It’s that neither of you knew how to.

Stood in front of the full length mirror, you took one last look at yourself, smoothing out the front of your sundress, but caught her sad gaze in the reflection behind you.

“Hey ____. Earlier, when you said you had your eye on someone. Were you talking about Eren?” Her voice was hushed but you feel it in your viscera, like a sharp kick that leaves you winded

You know what she’s thinking. What everyone is thinking. That you were going to swoop in and steal your best friend’s partner. And you can’t blame her because that’s exactly what it looks like.

But you didn’t betray her, you would never.

You want her. Not him.

It’s almost as though you’ll never get a chance to set the record straight. Before you could even try you were being shooed out the door.

Now at the table, you fiddle with the stem of your glass, resisting your body’s command to down the whole thing. Sitting here in silence with him for 2 hours may as well be torture if you were completely sober but it sure as hell would be better than talking to him.

Eren doesn’t seem to share your sentiments and is the first to break the silence.

“I know you don’t like me.” He says before taking a sip of his drink. “All this bullshit about a love triangle is ‘cause you like my girlfriend. Right?”

He flashes you his signature cocky smirk, one of the many things about Eren Jaeger that seem to irk you to no end.

“I mean she’s technically not your girlfriend.” You say as a feeble retort.

You are right. She’s not his girlfriend because he’s never asked her. Life in the villa was harsh like that. If your relationship wasn’t official, anyone was fair game. Really the only thing that had stopped you from making your move was the painful gnaw of your insecurity. The deep-rooted belief that she would never choose you over him. Just the idea of public rejection, in front of your friends, family and god-knows how many other people, puts the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.

“Like that fucking matters.” He leans back in his chair, long legs spread wide. At least you didn’t bother denying it, he thinks. But why would you, Eren is many things but he isn’t stupid. The way you stare at Mikasa all dreamy eyed, following her around like a stray puppy. When you two are together, he doesn’t like how you sit so close, always whispering and giggling at god knows what. You’re entirely too comfortable, letting her lay her head in your lap while you play with her hair. Small things like that add up, it’s not hard to fingers out what you true intentions are.

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Why would he be jealous of someone who doesn’t even have the balls to go after what they want? You just… bother him. You could have your pick of literally anyone in the villa but no. Instead, you’re always hovering around, waiting for him to fuck up so you can play the role of comforting best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Extra bravado backs your voice. You know this act. He’s trying to intimidate you. You always thought Eren saw himself as untouchable but the way his jaw ticks makes you wonder for a brief moment, is he threatened by you?

“Scared of a little competition? I think you’re on the wrong show.”

“Oh please.” He scoffs before picking up his glass again. “You’re no competition sweetheart.”

“Famous last words.” You hum condescendingly, before bringing your fork to your mouth, letting the food pass your lips.

He clenches his jaw tighter. Being able to push his buttons in this way is something you’re very proud of right now.

He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and says. “You know. I actually had my eye on you in the beginning.”

The bite of food seems to lodge itself in your throat, eyes bugging out of your head. You cough and sputter, quickly gulping down your drink to try and move the lump into your stomach.

“Surprised?” His voice takes on a much deeper tone.

You don’t reply, too busy fumbling for a napkin to wipe down the edges of your mouth so he continues. “Yeah. You’re hot, obviously. But also real feisty. Fun to tease and ease to get a rise out of. My type. But Mikasa…. I could tell she wanted me from the start and if I wanted to stay in this competition, I couldn’t waste any time grafting on someone who was playing so hard to get.”

“So this is all a game to you then?” You say through gritted teeth, both hands squeezing tightly around the cutlery you’re holding. All your anger is bundled up by a thin thread, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

“I think you’re a little confused. Isn’t that exactly what this is?” He rests his chin on his palm, wearing that same chilling smile from earlier.

“You’re a real piece of shit. You know that?” You don’t want to lose your temper. Doing that means that you’ve given the upper hand back to him. Too bad you’re doing a terrible job of keeping it under control.

“Oh come on.” He laughs as if any of this is funny. “Its not like I’m leading her on.” Sharp as a dagger, those words jab themselves right in your gut. They’re a painful reminder that you don’t deserve to take the moral high ground. Thinking about what you’ve done to Armin, you may even be worse than he is.

“If I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t be bringing her tea in the morning, or making sure she ate.” Eren leans across the table, voice low and gravely. “Or making her cream all over my fingers every night while you and everyone else are fast asleep.”

You pick up the wine glass with the intention of covering his smarmy face in the blood red liquid.

Eren quirks brow at you, watching and waiting to see if you have the nerve. Because he knows that you don’t. If you did, you would have told Mikasa how you feel already. If you did, you would haven’t have latched on to the sweetest person in the villa as a fail safe. If you did, his pristine white shirt would have been stained burgundy by now.

Eren thinks you’re a coward and there’s nothing he hates more than that.

“Could have been you.” He sits back again. “Sorry I beat you to it.”

-

Your reception upon return to the villa is fairly mixed. Everyone is already dolled up with a drink in hand, the party in full swing.

Some people are glad to see you guys back, eagerly asking questions about the date. They might be genuinely curious as to how it went, interested in the development of new relationships or the survival of the villa’s power couple in the face of this challenge

Or they might just be in it for the drama, looking for gossip fodder. Wanting to know the details so they can go to the confessional booth and talk about how terrible of a person you are and how they would “never do anything like that to a friend”.

Other people greet you with disdain, people who would have been friendly with you mere hours ago. Armin is well liked in the villa, boyishly handsome with a kind heart. He’s a bit of a flirt at times but has never done anything with bad intentions. Of course everyone is fond of him. It’s only natural that you would look like the villain for stringing him along all this time, while he was developing genuine feelings for you.

Armin himself was angry of course, but it’s nothing if not deserved. You thought he would rage at you, call you selfish and cruel but he didn’t. Because Armin is a better person than you. You wanted to explain to him that you never meant to hurt him, but that wouldn’t mean anything because you did. In fact it would probably upset him more to hear that he was just an accidental casualty. A meek “I’m sorry” was the best you could offer. A nod and an impassive expression is all he offered in return, walking away to join Jean and some others on the daybed.

As for your date, you can feel his glare from all the way behind you as you make your way across the lawn to the bar. Mikasa is sitting on one of the stools with Sasha.

“Hey.” You interrupt Sasha’s animated chatter.

“Oh hey.” She turns to face you. While you’ve been gone she’s had time to build her defences up again, appearing stunningly neutral, not a hint of listlessness she couldn’t hide earlier. “How was the date?”

The first thing you think is She looks gorgeous tonight. But she always does.

The second thing you think is It’s time to grow a pair. Now or never.

You can still remember the sad look in her eyes from this afternoon. The thought still has your heart sitting in the pit of your stomach. The idea that it was a hurt you caused makes you want to throw it back up.

“It was…” You pause to find the right word. “Fine.” you decide on. You could have lied and said it was good but that’s probably not what she wants to hear. You could have been honest and said you would have had a better time removing your own wisdom teeth with a butter knife but that’s not the point. The date was irrelevant anyways, simple misunderstanding that you need to clear up right now. “But actually, I was wondering if I could pull you for a chat?”

Sasha hops off her chair, wobbling a bit as she lands. “Why don’t you guys stay here? I'm gonna go find Connie.” She places her hand on your shoulder, her own way of giving you a little courage.

You mouth a thank you that she meets with a wink before leaving.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the front of your dress, taking the seat across from her. Your mouth is dry and once again you can’t find the words to tell her how you feel.

Why can’t you just say it?

“So Armin is pretty mad at me. I’ll probably crash on the daybed tonight.”

You colossal idiot! You scream internally.

Once again you’re dancing around what you truly want to say.

Mikasa digs her clipped fingernails into her palm, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, dam threatening to break at any second. After everything, that’s what you came here to say? She knows it’s not your fault that you two didn’t get to talk before you left but you don’t think she deserves an explanation now?

At least Eren had the decency to come to her after. He didn’t say much except reassured her that nothing happened and he wasn’t interested in coupling up with anyone else.

Still, it didn’t quell Mikasa’s insecurity.

She’s never been jealous before in her life but this must be it. It feels like someone has dug into her chest and is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until her poor heart is nothing but a crumpled mess.

If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have hurt less. Now she’s so afraid that she's losing you to Eren and she's losing Eren to you and in the end, she’s the one left with nothing.

“Yeah he was pretty upset when you left.” With her elbow on the counter top, she rests her chin in her palm. You’re used to her stoic expression because you know if you look long enough, carefully enough you’ll see how soft she is. But this is different. There is nothing but cold, hard steel behind her eyes.

“I deserve it though. I shouldn’t have strung him along like that.”

“Yeah I’d be mad too.” The bitter edge to her voice is one that you’ve never heard her use towards you. You try hard not to take it personally, she’s only mad because she doesn’t understand. You have to set the record straight.

Now or never right?

“Mikasa look. I have to tell you something. I-”

“I’VE GOT A TEXT!” Jean announces, getting in the way of your confession.

“For fuck’s sake.” You mutter under your breath.

It’s pretty obvious at this point that the producers have you on their hit list but as Jean reads aloud the message, it only becomes clearer that they must have some personal vendetta against you.

“Eren, you get to spend the night in the hideaway with the islander of your choice. #DecisionsDecisons”

It’s an easy decision so Eren doesn’t give it much deliberation.

But his choice shocks everyone.

“_____. It’s you and me tonight.”

Even after what transpired this afternoon, your relationship with Mikasa was salvageable but this… you don’t think it will survive

Without a word, she hops off her seat, storming into the villa without sparing a glance at anyone else.

It might have been the final nail in the coffin for his relationship with her as well.

-

Alone in the hideaway, you nervously tug at the silk sheets, bunching the fabric between your fingers.

You’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes, sat in your pyjamas, a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts. The possibility that Eren would stand you up becomes more and more likely. Why he would do all this instead of just choosing Mikasa is beyond you but you know better than to waste precious brain cells trying to figure out Eren Jaeger. If he did plan on leaving you alone here for the night, it was probably for the best. At least you could sleep in a room by yourself for the first time in ages. A small consolation.

Just as you start to contemplate turning off the lights and calling it a night, you hear the door of the room creak open.

Eren walks in still dressed in his jeans and white linen shirt and kicks off his shoes.

“Look Jaeger. I don’t know what you want from me but I’m not interested in playing your games. I-“

The rest of your sentence evaporates when Mikasa appears from behind him. You jump to your feet, fully prepared to leave. Did he bring you here just to humiliate you? If that’s the case then he’s had more than his fill, you won’t let him have any more fun at your expense.

“Not interested you say?” Eren raises his eyebrow, as he gently nudges Mikasa forward.

You should go but your feet just won’t move when she stands square with you. “What’s going on?” You ask, as your chest grows tighter, with every second that ticks by.

“Do you-” she pauses, after a silence that dragged on for much too long. “Do you like me?”

Everything about it is innocent; question, the tone, the way she looks at you. But now your heart is beating so ridiculously loud that you can’t think straight. She asks you so bluntly that you feel stupid for how long you’ve spent agonising over how you would confess. Unlike you, she’s never struggled to get to the point.

Behind her, Eren wears a poorly concealed smile and that’s confirmation of the obvious. You don’t know what he told her but it’s obvious she knows this much. There’s no reason to deny it now.

“Yeah.”

You had rehearsed it countless times, thought about all the flowery words you would use to tell her how you feel. Yeah is not as eloquent as what you had in mind but it would have to do.

“Oh.” Her blush deepens, blending perfectly with the red and pink hues of the dimly lit room.

Mikasa is still shocked, she didn’t really believe Eren when he told her. Granted, at the time she wasn’t really interested in what he had to say seeing as he had just publicly humiliated her. Hearing you say it now makes her rethink everything, from those early days up until now.

She’s seen people chop and change partners with every new face that comes in and out of the villa but that was never her. To her, she already had Eren so there was no need to consider anyone else. But now that she knows how you feel, things are different.

“Hmm. Oh.” You mimic followed by a dry chuckle.

It’s not the response you had dreamed about but what did you expect? Yes you’ve confessed but this wasn’t your moment. It wasn’t the one you’d been waiting weeks for. Ultimately, that moment never came and maybe that was a sign that you and Mikasa just weren’t meant to be.

The big room now feels too small for three people. There's not enough space. There’s not enough air. You need to leave. You need to-

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” She steps closer to you. There is no malice in her tone. A simple question with a simple answer but you can’t pick up if this is a rejection or not.

“I didn’t know if you liked girls.” You mumble, taking a step back.

It’s not the reason. Maybe it’s one of them but you just needed the space to think. To breathe. But the back of your legs hit the bed and once again your backside is on the soft cushion of the mattress.

She moves even closer until her knees knock against yours.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” She shakes her head and cups your face with both hands so you look at her face, her smile (even though it’s only slight) alleviates the tension in your chest. “If I like someone, I like them and… I think I like you.

The relief that you feel meets an untimely demise when Eren approaches the bed. He pulls her body flush against his chest.

You truly were something. Here he was making it easy for you but you still can’t say what you want. A coward.

He whispers something inaudible into her ear and now you have both of them looking down at you. This is the smallest you’ve ever felt, wanting to shrink even further under their scrutinising gaze. Still, you feel a familiar tingle just buzzing in your lower belly as they size you up.

She tilts her head to the side, granting Eren access to her neck which he accepts. He plants soft wet kisses across the expanse of pale skin. Pink tongue and white teeth appear every now and then as he leaves bruises and bite marks on the, once flawless, canvas. Her eyes fall closed as she writhes in his hold, grinding her rear on to his crotch. His hands wander, underneath the hem of her short dress, exposing more of her milky thighs, black lace panties just barely visible. She hums, finally opening her eyes, to look at you, her thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks.

You can’t imagine how you look right now but you know how you feel. Your head is spinning from the erotic scene in front of you, clenching your thighs to alleviate some of the heat you feel, breathing heavily even though all you’re doing is watch, sitting there in your cartoon pajamas.

Mikasa gasps as he digs his teeth into her neck especially hard, leaving behind the dents of his incisors.

“Focus.” He murmurs into the crook of her neck.

You don’t know what he means but you can’t exactly blame her. If there were hands squeezing and clawing up your thighs, never reaching where you actually need them. If there was a tongue sliding over the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth raking over the same sore spots over and over again before soothing them with featherlight kisses and kitten licks. If you were in her place, you wouldn’t be able to focus either.

“I- I’ve never been with a girl though.”

Your mouth dries up at the promise of her words. There’s no way she means….

“But Eren said he’d help.”

Help?

There’s no chance for you to stop and question once he unzips her dress, letting it fall off her body, leaving her in her underwear in front of you. You can’t stop yourself from shamelessly raking your eyes over her body.

Yes, you’ve spent days with her, lounging around in swimsuits but this feels new. Maybe it’s the way the black lace cups the curves of her breasts, budding nipples just barely visible through the sheer fabric. Or maybe it’s the way the matching fabric only just covers her pussy, that’s just mere inches from your face. She’s so close you can practically smell her. Your tongue dips out to moisten your lips, practically dying to taste her.

Perhaps the biggest difference comes in the smouldering way she looks down at you, it’s the same desire you’ve had in your eyes for weeks, finally being reflected back at you.

Your hands twitch atop your thighs, itching to do something.

Touch her.

Touch yourself.

Anything.

She tugs at the sleeve of your shirt and that's all the instruction you need. You pull your shirt over your head, perhaps with a little more eagerness than necessary. While Eren unhooks the other woman’s bra, flinging it across the room. You feel your nipples harden instantly but you can’t be sure if it’s because it’s due to the cold air of the room or the heat of her stare on your chest.

Mikasa straddles you, stepping free from Eren’s hold. From the corner of your eye you see him unbutton his shirt but you can’t focus on him for too long. Not when your bare chests are pressed together. Both of you shudder as your nipples graze against each other and you feel the heat of her cunt radiate onto yours. You hear the sound of heavy breathing, you can’t tell if it’s hers or yours. You can smell her perfume, intoxicatingly sweet jasmine and amber. Her pupils are already blown wide, only a thin grey ring that lines the pitch black of her iris. You see your reflection of yourself in them and you can only imagine that she is seeing something similar. Mikasa has literally taken over all of your senses, all except for one.

She’s so close to you, she must be able to tell that your heart is racing. Her nose bumps against yours ever so softly. You’re almost too scared to even move. Everything about this moment feels like a dream, what if you close that millimeter gap and it ends?

But you know it's real when her petal soft lips press against yours. It can’t be anything but real when she kisses you, gently as though you might break. You can’t help but want more, slipping your tongue past her lips. And finally you taste her and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You swallow all the sounds she makes as you lick the inside of her mouth, lips sliding against each other. Every whimper makes you hungry for more so you kiss her deeper, massaging her tongue with yours.

Puffs of air escape through your nose, but both of you are much too desperate to stop the kiss for something as trivial as breathing. It’s not worth losing the feeling of her mouth on yours.

Before long, your hands are wandering, trailing over the curve of her ass, rubbing over thin fabric that moulds to her body, tracing the intricate patterns of the lace. Her hand glides up your torso gripping the soft breast in her palms, making you moan into her mouth. She smiles into the kiss, rolling your nipple between her fingertips, sending small shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You maneuver her body, rocking her back and forth on your lap. It’s not nearly enough friction. You’re dying to get rid of the fabric that separates you. You want to feel skin to skin how wet she is for you. You want her to know how unbelievably wet you are for her. You fiddle around trying to adjust the position, trying to get her closer to where you need her.

“Baby.” A deep voice cuts through the tension in the room. For a moment you’d forgotten he was there at all.

Much to your chagrin, Mikasa pulls away from the kiss. You’re both left panting with your lips swollen. Your heart sinks as you come to the realisation that this is as far as everything would go. One searingly passionate kiss and nothing more. You couldn’t imagine a crueler fate.

Mikasa looks over her shoulder for Eren’s instruction.

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, toned muscles rippling with the motion, and stalks over to the bed. “On your knees.”

Obediently, she sinks to the floor, kneeling in front of you with Eren directly behind her. Yes, you just made out with his girlfriend right in front of him but suddenly you’re self-conscious being half naked in front of him.

He’s staring at you and not in the ‘ogling your tits kind of way’. It’s like he’s sizing you up, breaking you down with just his eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

You blink down Mikasa, not believing your ears but you heard the words yourself, clear as day. Eren does nothing but stare, expression unreadable. The room is quiet as they wait for you to answer.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod hesitantly.

Mikasa helps you shuffle out of your shorts and panties in one go, leaving you fully naked. Your legs are already shaking, resisting the urge to snap shut out of embarrassment. You can’t hide anything, not when she holds your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy to herself and Eren.

“Look how pretty she is, Eren.” Her voice is breathy. You’ve never heard her sound like this.

It’s because she’s in awe. Day in, day out you two would lounge around in swimsuits and not once did she picture this is how you would underneath them. Perhaps it’s better that she didn’t, because the thought would drive her crazy.

“Real pretty.” He hums in agreement. He can admit, your little display had him rock solid already. But god seeing you puffy cunt, lips already shiny and slick just from making out has him aching.

Mikasa slips two fingers between your folds, barely grazing your clit.

She pulls her fingers away admiring the way your slick webs between them. She holds her hand up for Eren to see. “Real wet too.”

It proves too tempting for him to resist. Eren leans down to suck on her fingers, cleaning them of your arousal.

You wish you could deny how much it turns you on when you hear him moan at the taste of you on her fingers. But it does and you can only hope they didn't notice how you flinched at the sound.

“You wanna taste her?” He teases when he notices her pout. He’s speaking to her but looking directly at you, pinning you under his gaze. “Then ask.”

“Can I eat you out?” She doesn’t miss a beat.

That tilts your whole world. Are you really sure you’re not dreaming? You nod, not trusting your own voice right now. Mikasa spreads your legs even wider but Eren stops her, firmly grasping the back of her neck.

“Nah. Don’t make it so easy on her. She has to use her big girl words.”

If you weren’t willing to take what you wanted, then he would give it to you. Eren is a nice guy like that. But he’s not that nice. If you wanted it, you were gonna have to say so.

“Right.” She agrees. “I’ll ask again. You gonna let me taste this pretty cunt?”

Eren’s throbbing behind his zipper. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk like that. It’s not a monster, more of a little green pest that buzzes around his brain asking him why she’s never said those kinds of things to him.

“Yes… please.” you answer hastily but neither of the two seem to share your urgency.

Mikasa’s touch returns, spreading your lips apart, only for her gawk at your dripping entrance, so close you feel her exhales on your skin.

The buzz in his head goes quiet because she’s waiting for his permission. She’s still his.

“Go on. Taste.” Eren whispers in her ear.

With one broad stroke, she drags her tongue across your cunt making your hips cant up towards her face, both of you searching for what the other has to give.

You will your eyes to stay open, hoping to brand the image of her between your thighs like this into the recesses of your brain. You don’t know if this will ever happen again and in case it doesn’t, you’ll have this memory.

Her tongue laps at your hole with the kind of excitement you can only hope to reciprocate by grabbing on to her silky hair, pushing her tongue further inside you. Not too hard, just enough to guide her in the direction.

She’s close. Right ther-

“Oi.” A smack echoes throughout the room. Eren is now knelt behind Mikasa, massaging the now sore flesh that was reddened by his hand.

Eren hated that you were a coward and he wanted you to take what you wanted but he’d forgotten that what you wanted was his.

Her attention is on him once again and the familiar jealousy starts to crackle in your belly. When Mikasa said that Eren would “help out” you didn’t think it meant him interrupting you two everytime you were starting to enjoy yourself. Of course it was naive of you to think that Eren would let you enjoy anything tonight. Maybe he did bring you here just to mess with you.

You hoist up your upper body to rest on your elbows just in time to see Eren take out his cock. Or rather he makes sure you see it. Gives you an excellent view in fact. It’s fully erect, bobbing against his abdomen while he gropes the flesh of her ass, giving her one more spank for good measure.

“You said you wanted to top right? Stop bein’ a fucking pushover.” He growls.

Her panties are pulled to the side, letting him press the fat, drooling head past her lips. You feel her breath come out in quick puffs against your thighs as she tries to accommodate his impressive girth. Inch by inch he’s filling her up until his hips press up right against her plush cheeks where he rests for a moment .

You look down to where her head rests on your thigh. Her face is scrunched up in either pleasure or pain, you can’t discern which.

Then Eren starts moving, slow and shallow at first and finally her eyelids flutter open. “I’m not done.” She digs her nails into your skin, making you wince. “Put that pussy back on my face.”

Eren lets out a satisfied noise. He really doesn’t know where she learned to talk like that. Even though she’s talking to you, he still feels it so he rewards her by snapping his hips faster, pulling out almost completely before ramming himself back in.

You don’t need to be told twice. Soon you’re back where you were a minute ago, Mikasa hopes to do the same, dipping her head low, already missing the taste of you on her tongue.

Sure she knows her way around her own body but she’s never eaten anyone out. She wonders if everyone tastes this sweet. Doubtful. She’s so eager for more wanting her tongue as close to the source as possible.

But before she can get there Eren chimes in.

“Nuh-uh baby. Go for the clit.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue because she knows that he’s helping her in the right direction. She can’t vouch for his skills, having had first hand experience. If she could learn to eat pussy half as good as Eren that would be enough to brag about.

She parts your slippery folds ever so delicately until she finds the swollen bud, that’s just throbbing for attention.

Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, tentatively flicking against it. She watches your face intently, taking careful note of your reaction. And what a reaction it is. Your thighs twitch beside her head, threatening to trap her between your thighs while you moan something that definitely sounds like her name.

She wants to hear it again to be sure.

“Spit on it.” He instructs her again.

You don’t think she will. The Mikasa you know would never do something so-

She doesn’t question his orders, cheeks hollowing out to collect her saliva that she allows to mix with your juices.

“See how messy she is? Fuckin’ sloppy.”

“So sexy.” She murmurs before diving for your clit again. Her tongue flicks at it haphazardly, she can’t get a good reach because of the way Eren’s thrusts shake her body. It feels good but you need more, shuffling down the bed until she can wrap her lips around the bundle of nerves. Everytime Eren hits just the right spot inside of her she moans against you, and you can feel the vibrations radiate from your pelvis up your spine.

While you’re so entranced by your own pleasure you don’t notice Eren’s lascivious stare. Mikasa being so eager to make you feel good should enrage him. He shouldn’t be this turned on, watching his girlfriend get on her knees for someone else, especially not you. But seeing the way, you’re so desperately trying to keep yourself from rutting against her face, nearly drawing blood from your bottom lip to try and keep yourself quiet. It’s adorable. But Mikasa has been too easy on you in his opinion and he doesn’t think you deserve ‘easy’. He wants to see your attitude breakdown bit by bit.

“Fingers. Use your fingers baby.” He prompts while slowing his thrusts, giving Mikasa more room to work.

One slender finger slides into your dripping cunt, feeling near no resistance on its way. Noticing how easily you take her, she’s quick to add a second, scissoring her fingers to stretch you out. High pitched ah ah ahs fall from your lips matching the rhythm of the drag of her fingers against your walls, the rhythm of Eren’s thrusts into her. It’s agonisingly slow, so she can enjoy the sight of you sucking her back in every time her fingers attempt to leave and admire the way your sticky arousal drips down her knuckles, onto the satin sheets.

Once Eren decides he’s had enough of that he picks up the pace again, meaning Mikasa has no choice but to follow suit. While her fingers pump in and out of you, she crooks them ever so slightly to try and find your g-spot.

When she prods at the spongy spot you go limp for just a second “Mikasa. Oh my god!” You squeal.

“Oho. She likes it.” Eren remarks, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Keep doing that.”

Mikasa is nothing if not diligent. She consistently aims for that spot while her tongue stimulates your clit, stroking it over and over again. You’re practically rushing towards an orgasm, stomach muscles already tightening up and white spots already clouding your vision.

“G-gonna. Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.” You stammer, teetering on the edge.

“You hear that baby?” Eren asks. “She wants to come for you.”

Eren tugs on her hair, pulling up her head so she can answer him, but all she can manage is a string of needy whimpers.

“What do you say? Hm?” He pulls harder, not satisfied with her response.

“Mm-ah. No.” She slips her fingers out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothings.

“Atta girl.” He praises her, beginning to fuck her in earnest now.

All you can do is watch as Eren fucks her stupid on his cock, driving her closer and closer to her peak while you feel your own pleasure dissapate into nothing.

A hazy fog has descended over her eyes, she’s looking at you but she’s so far gone that she may as well be looking past you.

Eren’s hair is messy, chocolatey strands framing his face, skin dewy with sweat. The heavy plap plap plap of his hips ramming into her ass is deafening. He catches you staring and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed although you do regret inflating his already sizeable ego.

“Tell her how it feels.” He hooks his middle finger into her cheek “Tell her how good my cock feels inside you.”

He has no issue with admitting he’s being petty but he wants you to see what he does to her.

No, scratch that.

He wants you to feel it. That deep hunger you have for Mikasa? He wants a share in it too. He wants you hungry like that for him too.

“Feelsh shhho good. Eren’shh cock feelsh sshoo good.” Her words are barely coherent, drool seeping from the corners of her mouth.

“Hmm. Ask her if she wants it.” He grunts.

“You want him to fuck you?” She slurs, words distorted by the obstructing force of his finger.

Do you?

Before you would swear up and down that you hated Eren. You still do. But Mikasa has gone delirious on his cock, mouth hanging open with her tongue lolling out, whining muffled “Eren Eren Eren”s even with him fish hooking her, and you can’t deny that it has you curious. It doesn’t help that you’re still desperate, from being left high and dry, poor empty pussy just begging for attention.

You shake your head yes and Mikasa’s hand comes down hard on your sore puffy clit. “Words.”

“Yes please.” You mewl. Tears prickle at your eyes from the sting between your legs. “Please. I want Eren to fuck me.”

“So well behaved.” Eren mocks you. “Hm?” He stops moving, still balls deep inside her.

“Good girl.” Mikasa practically purrs, lifting her head up once more. The small praise makes you feel flustered, desperate for more.

“Yeah?” His palm comes down hard on her ass. She almost sounds delighted at the pain. “What are you gonna do for your good girl?”

“I’m gonna make her cum on my tongue.” With that she’s back into your pussy, face first, suckling on your clit with quick pulses and pumping into you with three of her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for her to bring you back to that peak. Maybe because she left you on the edge just a moment ago only to let you watch her get fucked within an inch of her life. Maybe it’s you’ve been wanting this, fantasizing about this for weeks. Or maybe it’s because (as per usual), Eren Jaeger doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, a string of filthy words falling from his lips.

“You're doing so well baby.” He still hasn’t moved, more focused watching Mikasa fuck you open on her fingers. She’s so focused on making you cum, he wonders if she’s even listening but he knows that you are. “Gonna make that sloppy pussy cum so good. Let her make a mess all over your face.”

That’s the catalyst. It’s then that you’re falling into the abyss of pleasure, legs shaking as you writhe on the bed, while Mikasa’s fingers ride you through your high, gradually coming to halt as everything subsides.

When you finally feel grounded again, you open your eyes in time to see Eren pull Mikasa’s face towards him. Tonguing at her mouth, licking inside and around it to clean off the remnants of your orgasm. You watch longly from the bed as their tongues tangle together, tasting the mixture of you and each other.

When Eren has had enough, Mikasa turns to you, spit-slicked face gleaming under the dim lights. “My turn right?” She asks you, still slightly breathless.

Eren answers in your stead. “Yeah, take these off.” He stretches the elastic of her underwear so it can flick back against her skin. He’s trying very hard to sound indifferent because he’d be mortified if you knew how eager he was to see Mikasa rut against your face until she cums.

“Move up.” The instruction is for you this time, Eren patting your knees that still dangle over the edge of the bed. You clamber up until your head lands on the soft, downy pillows, body sprawled on the length of the mattress now. Eren crawls on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. Mikasa sits next to your head, now sans panties.

He nudges against your tender pussy with the bulbous head of his cock, spreading your lips apart ever so slightly.

You don’t expect a ceremony, closing your eyes in anticipation for the burn you know is coming. It never does.

“Beg for it.”

Your eyes fly open, face immediately moulding into a scowl. He looks down at you with unabashed cockiness, clearly amused at your frustration.

“You fucking bastard! I-“

“_____. “ Mikasa trails her hand down your neck, grazing over your sternum and tracing the underside of your breast and circling your areola. Your nipples stiffen under the light touch. “He said ‘beg’.”

“But I already said it, didn’t I!?” Your irritation simmers when you address her, still deep down you cringe at how petulant you sound.

Eren’s hand comes down hard against your pussy and you let out a loud cry on impact. His hands are bigger, stronger and harder than Mikasa’s and that one spank leaves your whole pussy aching.

“Told you babe. You were being too soft.” He slides his tip through your folds while you twitch underneath the two of them, spreading is pre-cum around, mixing it with your juices. “Now she thinks she can get whatever she wants.”

She takes your nipple between her fingers, tugging on it gently. “Is that true?” She twists it hard, making you wince. “ I thought you were a good girl.”

She soothes the sore nipple by laving her tongue across it but the reprieve doesn’t last long as she sinks her teeth into the hardened nub.

“I’ll be good!” You whimper.

You're dizzy from the teasing; Mikasa playing with your tits, mouth around one nipple while her hand gropes the other one and the torturous drag of the full length of Eren’s cock up and down your pussy. It’s slow enough for you to feel every ridge and vein around him, always stopping to tease your entrance, but never giving you the stretch you’re craving.

“P-please.” Your voice is hoarse. “Please Eren fuck me. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He’s content with that; hearing you beg for him. He would never admit out loud that he’s jealous but there is a certain envy that sits heavy in his bones knowing that you want his girlfriend and she wants you just as bad. That's why it helps to know that, at the same time, you want him and he wants you too, just in a different way. It's messy and twisted, perhaps a little too complicated to unravel now. Because right now he wants to fuck you until you cry.

Yeah, that’s the way he wants you

In one quick, smooth motion he enters. You let silent scream and just as you feel full enough to burst, he reaches his hilt.

Mikasa lets go of your nipple with a pop and murmurs, “There’s my good girl.” Against the shell of your ear.

Without warning, Eren starts to move, impossibly deep thrusts, moulding your walls to the shape of him. He prods against a spot inside you that has your back bowing off the bed but he holds you down by planting one of his large hands firmly on your stomach.

Soon, he’s fucking you hard and fast. He can’t help it. The loud sound of your sopping wet cunt squelching every time he slides home, dripping down his hefty balls as they slap against your ass with each brutal thrust, was just egging him on.

That, combined with the sweet-sounding quiet moans of his girlfriend with her hand between her thighs, rubbing quick, quick circles while she’s seemingly unable to take her eyes off of the both of you.

She perches up on her knees to get a better look. Wanting to see exactly where he enters you, wanting to see your pussy stretched out way more than her slim fingers could do.

The creamy ring that encircles the base of Eren’s cock makes her shudder. She feels a sense of pride, knowing that translucent strands of your cum was because of her. Part of why you’re so sex-drunk right now is because of her.

“Eren.” She purrs. “You’re fucking her so good. Making her feel so good.” She uses her free hand to tweak at her nipples, eyes flitting frantically between you and him.

“F-fuck!” You cry out as Eren bottoms out and stays there. He leans over you, face hovering just above yours, the strands of his hair brushing over your cheeks. His pelvis is against your clit, providing delicious pressure but not much else.

“Open.”

It takes a moment for you to process that he’s giving you an instruction. But then, you slacken your jaw, lips parting.

“Looks like you can listen huh?” He sneers. “Stick out your tongue.”

And you do.

It’s all so Eren can drop a glob of spit from his mouth into yours. He makes sure he does it slowly, so that the string of saliva can stretch and stretch and stretch until it plops unceremoniously on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow. Keep it there.”

He gives you another one, coating your tongue in his spit while your own begins to pool in your mouth.

“Hey babe. You didn’t get to cum.” He addresses Mikasa. He gives you one shallow thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Yeah?” She perks up, catching the meaning behind his words.

“Yeah.” He grunts, one more of those thrusts that puts him so deep you feel like he’s fucking the air out of your lungs.

She leans over you too now. Two pairs of eyes, look down on you from above. You blink your eyes shut, trying to escape their scrutiny.

“Open your eyes, sweet girl.” Mikasa coaxes you out of your sheepishness. She purses her baby pink lips, as if considering her next words. “Make me cum. Can you do that for me?”

For the third time that night, you have to question if you’re dreaming or not.

You nod your head a yes, feeling your own saliva pool in your mouth.

“So, so good.” Mikasa tells you.

“Shit.” Eren’s hips jerk against you, when. you squeeze tight around him when she tells you that. “Say that again.” He grits out.

Mikasa is positioning herself, facing Eren with her knees next to your ears, soaking wet pussy just an inch or so above your face.

“What?”

Their conversation is nothing but a faint buzz in the back of your mind, how could you focus on anything except what was right in front of you. Her pretty pink pussy, all wet just for you. The smell of her is heady, rich and sweet. The kind of thing you would get addicted to. God if she would only….

“——, you're such a good girl.” She sighs as she finally sinks down, resting directly on your face.

You moan involuntarily, finally getting to taste what your mouth has been watering for. You let your tongue stay still, letting her grind herself down on it. She tries to roll her hips in fluid motions but they stutter every time her clit rolls over your tongue as she lets out the most melodic moans.

You know that you’re being greedy now, but you can’t help it, the more she gives you, the more you want. Your hands fly up to her thighs and hold her in place. The tip of your tongue catches the rim of her leaking hole, trying to draw more of the sweet honey.

Eren clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “There you go again, letting her do whatever she wants.”

She pays him no mind, slipping her hand between her thighs to play with her clit, while your tongue massages the inside of her walls. “You’re just mean. She just wants to make me feel g-good r- ah right?” She rubs Her other hand tweaks one of your nipples, signalling to you that she wants an answer.

You moan a yes, muffled by the weight of her. You’re darting your tongue in and out of her pussy, unintentionally matching the pace of Eren’s unyielding thrusts.

She rolls the pulsing numb under her fingers, round and round. Her breathing quickens as she tries to bounces on your face; shallow up and down movements.

You can tell she’s close and briefly lament the fact that you won’t be able to see her face when she cums. You wish you could see what she looks like when that wave of pleasure finally crests. But when her knees dig into the mattress beneath her and rooting her firmly against your face, moaning your name as the waves of an orgasm rock her body, you can’t bring yourself to regret a thing. You’d let Eren have that. Getting to swallow down every drop that spills from her is more than a fair trade-off.

You clamp down on Eren’s cock, quickly approaching another orgasm of your own. Mikasa rides out hers by rutting against your tongue, her moans gradually fading into gasps.

“Make her real cum real hard okay ‘Ren?” She still hasn’t fully regained her bearings before she climbs off your face, (much to your dismay). “She really earned it.” She sighs giddy with bliss, plopping down beside you, turning her body to face you.

Eren huffs. “Your wish is my command.” His reaches your raw clit, rubbing it in harsh circles, setting your nerves alight like a livewire. There’s no way you could have held off your orgasm. Your muscles pull taut as you cum around his cock while he pummels your g-spot throughout your climax. As soon as you’ve come down, he pulls out of you. You whine, despite yourself, disappointed at the abrupt emptiness.

Eren mutters various expletives as he strokes himself over you. He’s coated in your cum and it makes the most obscene noise with every flick of his wrist. He releases onto your stomach hot, white ropes of cum shooting out, streaking from your belly button right down to the mound of your pussy. He milks his cock, desperate to get out every last drop, jolting his hips with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He collapses on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the couple.

For a moment the room is filled just with heavy breathing, the three of you recovering from your recent activities.

Mikasa drags her fingers across your torso, smearing Eren’s cum over your skin.

Your body is sticky all over, a mess of sweat and sex. All of you are. But you’re not able to get your muscles to move, just yet.

As the lust that fogs your brain clears, nagging questions start to rear their head.

‘What does this mean for us now?’ being the most pertinent.

You roll over, to face Mikasa.

Perhaps now isn’t the time to ask, but you’ve learned your lesson about waiting until the right time. It’s in everyone’s best interest to clear it all up as soon as possible.

“So um- agh!” you choke around a sudden intrusion and a salty taste spreads across your taste buds.

“Not now.” Mikasa gags you with two of her digits that are coated in Eren’s cum.

“Yeah.” Eren jostles behind you. His sinewy arm snakes around your waist pulling you into his chest. At the small of your back you can feel his dick pressed up against you, already at half mast. “We’ll talk later.”

#love island collab #dyk it’s mandatory for islanders to go to therapy after the show #i think my subconscious took that info and ran #CAUSE THEY ARE ALL SO BAD AT FEELINGS??? #and have 0 communication skills #eren yaeger smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #eren yaeger x reader #mikasa x eren #mikasa x eren smut #tw spitting

[nagipops]

A BYAKUGAN NEW YEAR

FEATURING: neji hyuuga!

SUMMARY: in which you and neji attend a new year’s festival, and a familiar messenger arrives with a humorous confession, initiating a wild goose chase…

Walking through the warmly lit streets of the annual New Year’s festival, you inhaled the various scents flowing through the crisp winter air. Savory notes from Ichiraku Ramen, where Naruto and Hinata shared a meal. A floral scent from Ino’s flower shop, where Sai was browsing the various aisles. Lee was on one knee... seemingly proposing to Sakura?

You turned to your side, gazing up at Neji, who was accompanying you on your stroll through the street.

“Don’t you usually hate this kind of stuff?” you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the bustling crowd. “Aren’t there too many people for your taste?”

Neji leaned down to hear you and narrowed his eyes slightly before replying, “I don’t want you to get lost here. It’s dangerous.”

“Neji!” you snorted. “That’s just your fear of people!”

“Tch.” He gestured out to the vast sea of people hustling back and forth around you. “Look at all these people. You never know who could be hiding among them.”

You bit back a grin at how protective your friend was of you. He wasn’t this caring about most people, but you were something special to him. Just as he was to you. “Finee, only because you’re being so sweet. Plus, I like spending time with you,” you teased, poking his cheek, which earned a deep blush from him.

He turned every shade of crimson, coughing softly. “(Y/N),” he warned, lightly elbowing you.

You gave him a cheeky wink before turning back to the busy street, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by people you know and love.

“NEJIIIIIII!” a familiar voice cried out, nearing closer and closer. Rapid footsteps pounded on the asphalt, earning shrieks and cries from the surrounding citizens. A flash of green appeared before your eyes, and a familiar boy in a jumpsuit kneeled on the ground below you, his arms frozen in a perpendicular running pose with his black head of hair bowed down. “Neji.”

“Lee!” Neji cried, his face flushing once again as citygoers stared at him in shock. Whispers and giggles soon ensued as Neji’s eyes grew frantic. “Lee, what are you doing?” he hissed.

A scroll of parchment materialized out of thin air into Lee’s hand, which he offered to Neji with both palms outstretched. “For you, Neji-sama.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Neji stared incredulously at Lee’s ridiculous nickname. He narrowed his lavender eyes at the scroll before turning to you with an inquisitive look. “What is this?”

Shrugging innocently, you ushered him to take the parchment. “Go on, read it! I wanna know too.”

You could practically see the gears turning in Neji’s head as he continued to narrow his eyes at you. After a few moments, he reached for the scroll resting in Lee’s palms.

An idea sparking in your head, you blocked Neji’s hands from the scroll. “Wait!” His pale hands retracted immediately, while Lee remained unfazed, his head still bowed.

You tapped the top of Lee’s head. “Oi, Lee, aren’t you supposed to be a page?”

The messenger’s head trembled as his gaze remained downcast. “Y-yes.”

“Why don’t you read the scroll then?” You tapped his head once again, a little harder this time, before casting a teasing glance over your shoulder at Neji. “Since I’m sure Neji would be too embarrassed to read it aloud himself.”

Neji’s brow furrowed as his face flushed once again. “I would not.”

You turned back to Lee, who was still kneeling one one knee. “Lee!”

The black-haired boy immediately shot up, his palms slapped to his sides in an attention position. “Yes ma’am!” He held the scroll directly in front of him as it unfurled with a whoosh, creating an even greater scene as passerby continued to point and giggle while Neji stared daggers at anyone who lingered for more than a second. “Just get it over with,” he muttered as the bystanders began to go about their day.

“Ahem!” Lee cleared his throat before reciting the scroll. “Sharingan is red, Rasengan is blue, I wish that you would use your Byakugan on me too. Sincerely, (Y/N).”

Neji’s eyes widened in fear as his face turned beet red. You swore you could see smoke coming out of his ears.

Your chest racked from your suppressed titters. “P-pf! N-Neji!” You snorted, failing to contain your laughter as your explosive giggles finally escaped, ringing throughout the streets. “Pfffahaha! Neji!”

Neji’s body started to tremble as his complexion continued to darken. “(Y/N)...” He turned to you with murderous eyes.

“Eep!” You shrunk into yourself, still giggling.

He took a slow step towards you, his chilled gaze fixated on yours. “Uh oh.” You immediately turned on your heel and dashed into the crowd, awkwardly weaving through citizens and friends, having to stop behind slow-moving crowds in between mad dashes.

“Oi! (Y/N)!” A familiar loud voice called out as a furred hood popped up above the crowd at a nearby market stand. Damn Kiba and his stupid noisy voice! “Heyy! Wait, that’s her, right?”

Biting your lip in frustration, you maneuevered through the sea of people until you made your way to the other side. “Kiba!” you hissed. “Be quiet!”

His dark eyes widened at your sour tone, but he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Whoa there, what’s wrong?”

“I’m hiding from Neji. No time to explain, but if he asks, you never saw me.” Your eyes darted around the stand behind Kiba, where various thick furs and coats hung upon racks and hooks. Grabbing the nearest one off of a rack, you threw it across your shoulders and started to dash off again. “Thanks, I’ll pay you back sometime!”

“Hey—!“ But you were already back on your way, weaving through the crowds once again with the furry cloak draped around your head and shoulders, shielding you from being spotted.

As you reached the outer skirts of the festival, you noticed that the crowd had started to thin and frantically searched for a place to hide. Spotting a nearby alleyway that was hidden away from the main street, your gaze flitted back and forth before you darted into the dark and cool retreat.

Placing a hand on your heaving chest and feeling your thumping heart against the wall, you sighed heavily to catch your breath. You carefully peered around the corner, looking for any sign of your pursuer, Ne—

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

“AHHHHHHH!!” you shrieked, nearly jumping out of your skin as you dove to the ground.

Turning around to face your attacker, you found—

“Neji?!” The taller boy was staring down at you, arms folded in front of him. “How did you—“ You noticed the veins around his eyes starting to retract into his face.

Byakugan. Touché.

“Hmph,” Neji huffed, glaring down at your body on the ground for a few moments. Then a few moments longer...

Realization dawned on you as you protectively covered your body with your hands. “NEJI!” you cried, driving your foot into his shin. “YOU CREEP!”

“Ow!” Neji barked, hopping on one foot and rubbing his leg to soothe the pain. You rushed to your feet, grabbing his collar and pinning him against the concrete wall. “Let me— go!” he groaned in pain.

“You perv!” you growled, pushing him further up the wall as he struggled against your grip.

Neji’s strained face slipped into a smug grin before he disappeared from your hold. “Wha—“ Your back suddenly hit the wall, and you looked up to see Neji pinning you against it, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Did you really think that would restrain me?”

Your shocked expression dissolved into a teasing grin. “Mmm, no, but this makes up for it. You know I was just joking about that scroll though, right?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he held you steadily against the wall. “Of course. My Byakugan was already gone by the time I found you.” He averted his gaze to the side, looking abashed. “I could never look at you like that.”

“Yet here you are, pinning me against a damn wall.” You giggled quietly before reaching for his collar again, softly this time. “Neji...”

He hummed softly, leaning down closer to you. Slowly, holding onto his collar, you pulled him towards you until your noses were nearly touching. You stared into his mesmerizing lavender eyes, loving the way his dark hair fell in front of his face, savoring the closeness of him. “You...”

You pressed your lips to his.

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#neji hyuga #neji hyuuga #neji #neji hyuuga imagine #neji hyuuga x reader #neji imagines #neji x reader #neji imagine #neji headcanons #naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #anime imagines #sasuke uchiha #itachi uchiha #kakashi hatake #og

[katieraven]

sleep is so tough

Summary: your attempt at dealing with losing Bucky is unsuccessful and results in a sleepless night - for several reasons.

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/female reader

Warnings: angst!!, happy ending (because I can't write sad endings for the life of me), a lot of metaphors, thoughts about death, loss and grieving, a tiny description of a panic attack

Word count: 3227

Notes: @babycap you wonderful human! 600 followers is huge and i am very happy about this fic. the prompt was: "I wanna be in your touch / Sleep is so tough" - James Bay, Chew On My Heart and I wrote a lil something that i'm kinda happy with. do enjoy!

love,

katie

It’s the same nightmare. You recognise it from the last three weeks, you’ve been here before. Doesn’t make it easier to shake out of it. You watch him convulse, face torn and twisted somewhere between pain and the desperate attempt to keep his free will. The fight against the venomous words the HYDRA agent hurls at him. They’re like daggers, needles stuck into his brain, rewiring him. And all you can do is watch. You are frozen in place in the torture your subconsciousness puts you through. Again. And again. And again.

You can’t will your eyes to tear away from him. He snarls like a cornered animal at the agents around him. Then the final words. “грузовой вагон“. Freight car. You don’t know Russian, but those ten phrases have been burned into your brain. You could recite them in your sleep.

Bucky stills. He slowly stands up from his crouched position, cold stare fixed onto the speaking agent. “Я готов отвечить“.

You startle awake, the nightmare finally loosening its grasp on your consciousness. Immediately, your hands fly to the other side of the bed. It is cold and empty and your stomach drops when realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

This is not a nightmare. At least not entirely, no. It is a memory. Because you saw the footage. You saw Bucky convulse and bend and snap and straighten. And you saw Steve, heard his scream as Sam pulled him away, forcing him to leave his best friend in the hands of his torturers. Steve knows it was the right thing to do. You do, too. The thought of Bucky being all alone behind enemy lines still makes your breath hitch in your throat, though.

They didn’t want you to see the footage, it wasn’t supposed to be something you get confronted with. But you slipped into the room, originally meaning to talk to Natasha about some software to try out in the next mission. They didn’t notice you entering, eyes trained on a screen, FRIDAY running facial recognition in the background. They kept playing the footage over, and over, and over, and again, looking for any kind of clue as to where they could find him, until your knees gave out under you and you fell with a whimper leaving your throat. Natasha was the first to understand the situation. Steve let out a string of colourful curses you would have never stopped teasing him about, hadn’t you been trying to wrap your mind around what you just saw.

If you had known they were back already, you would have noticed him missing and asked. But you didn’t even know they were back. And then he was gone.

You finally open your eyes. The New York night tints the white ceiling a blueish sort of grey and you feel like someone painted the inside of your heart onto the concrete. A perfect replica. Grey inside. Empty. Broken and alone, left to try and fail to put yourself back together.

Your fingers curl into a fist around the cold and empty bedsheets. They have been empty for three weeks now, and your body has no tears left to give. So you lie there, silent sobs violently breaking free from the void that is your chest. Sometimes you don’t know if your heart is beating, still, and your hands can’t find it in them to check. It wouldn’t be so bad to die, you think. There’s not much keeping you here.

Steve visits every few days. He carries the same hollow look in his eyes, like someone snuffed out the light behind them and carelessly forgot to turn it back on. With the sole difference that he is better at hiding it. It is only when he thinks nobody is watching that the sticky navy blue ink that is grief seeps into his face and turns his eyes empty and his face pale. You don’t mention it.

You know it’s supposed to help, sharing grief. Which is why you open the door when he visits, and don’t turn him away. He needs it, too, you suppose. So you sit on your sofa in front of the tv and watch something stupid and mindless that none of you pay attention to and both of you pretend to find acutely intriguing whenever the other is looking.

It’s all a giant game of pretend. SHIELD is feigning confidence in finding him. Everyone else oozes positivity whenever they talk about the mission. But it’s false, and hollow, and the truth of it sneers at you through translucent optimism.

You turn your head to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4:36 a.m. That means you slept an astonishing three hours. That’s two more than yesterday. You’re not afraid of the nightmares anymore. You know they will come. The terror shaking you night after night has become a companion, just as the grief following closely in everything you do. It looms over you at night, hides in the shadows behind the furniture in your living room, joined by Steve’s whenever he’s there.

You were afraid to fall asleep, yes. Pulled two all-nighters in the first days after. By now you have learned to read the signs your body so openly presents you with and you know you will not fall asleep again tonight. So you lie there, hand splayed over the empty right side of the bed, eyes staring through the ceiling.

Fuck, you miss him. It rolls over you unexpectedly and your body seizes, curling up into a fetal position as your obviously alive and beating heart pumps sharp agony through your veins. He is gone. You know, of course, you understood before and this feeling is familiar, but for the first time, it truly settles inside you. Bucky is gone.

The man you imagined a future with, who handed you his broken and bruised heart and trusted you to fix it, is gone. The charming wooden home near the sea you always talked about when his nightmares were too much and too real slowly turns to dust between your grasping fingers. You feel it slip. The bell-like high pitched laughter of a young child evaporating in your mind.

You feel your heart break. There has been a dull ache in your chest for weeks. You’ve gotten used to it, embraced it into your menagerie of demons and ghosts, grief and loss. But it betrays you, right now, as you feel your heart pound against the cage of your ribs, and it burns. You still lie curled into yourself, blanket tangled between your legs. You will explode. You feel it with a new certainty, this will kill you. You breathe in and out, you know you do, but none of the air arrives in your lungs. It leaves you desperately gasping for oxygen.

Until you realise none of it is real. Because your heart is not here in your room with you, your heart lies in the mismatched hands of a broken soldier somewhere between here and the sea. It can’t kill you here, because there is an organ-sized hole in your chest and the coldness of the world tears at your exposed ribcage with icy shrapnel-sharp claws. Does it bleed? If so, you can’t feel the warmth. Blood is warm, right? Bucky always said it is.

You exhale slowly. Will your seizing muscles to relax, to let you go. To your surprise they do, and you inhale again, cold night air. It doesn’t yet escape through the wound in your chest. The hole hasn’t reached your lungs yet. But you know it will consume you, leave no part of you untouched, unbroken, will rip you apart for all your demons to finally feast on what is left of you.

Maybe he will find you first, you muse. Maybe HYDRA will find the last bit of mercy in them and send him after you, to cut his strings. You know you will not fight when he does. It would be a sweet oblivion with his eyes the last thing you see. Grey irises like molten silver when the sunlight hits just right.

Your arms fold against your chest. The skin is whole, not a scratch, no bleeding wound. You know it can’t be true. It is simply your minds way of processing this pain. Your imagination fixed the hole but you know it’s still there, still gaping. You can feel the edges burning where the hole ends and the marred skin starts. But you live. Still this broken body carries you on, one day after another.

You sit up in your sheets, hair plastered against your forehead by the thin film of sweat covering your body. As your back straightens, the metallic clinking of dog tags root you into this reality and you pull them out from under one of Bucky’s black shirts you’re wearing.

“Keep these,” he murmurs and presses something hard into your open palm. You look down and see the two thin pieces of metal piled on top of each other, embossed letters spelling his name, his full name. Your stunned eyes flicker back up into his and you open your mouth to protest, but he shushes you with a finger.

“It’s not like I need them. If I die, this thing” – he gestures to his arm – “will tell everyone who I am. But I want you to have these.”

Your thumb smoothes over the plates, shoving them against each other. “I mean … I won’t complain, but why do you …?”

He shrugs, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. “I don’t know, I guess it feels like a part of me stays with you, y’know? A physical part. So that you have something real to hold onto until I’m back.”

It hits you, then, that he’s leaving. He picks the tags up and puts them around your neck and you reach for his hands, fingers closing around his forearms. “Don’t leave me, Bucky. Please, I can’t lose you –“

He puts his hands on either side of your face and kisses your nose, before looking directly at you. “You won’t lose me, you hear? I’ll always be with you. Always.”

But now he’s gone, and you close your fist around the metal tags until they push into your palms, and harder until they cut the delicate skin. You want to be angry at him but you can’t. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault he couldn’t keep his promise.

You steady your breathing. Eyes wander to the red numbers on your alarm. 5:23. No use trying to sleep anymore, you decide, and sit up. Might as well make coffee. Maybe you can get something done today. Clean the laundry up at least, so Steve doesn’t have this awfully concerned look on his face next time he visits.

It takes you a couple of minutes to actually, physically, move. In your mind you’re already in the kitchen, filling the coffee maker with water and watching the coffee slowly dribble into the pot below. It has something therapeutic, one drop at a time. Almost meditative.

But, well, you do have to walk over into the kitchen to reach this point of short-lived meditative oblivion. So you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, and your eyes fall onto the covered mirror in the corner. It’s floor-length, and you used to love being able to admire your whole outfit in there without having to stand on your tiptoes.

Like that one time before one of Tony’s extravagant galas, when you tried to get a good look at yourself and the glamourous dress that, as Natasha had pointed out, would look amazing on your figure. She had been right – naturally. But the tiny mirror in your bathroom hadn’t shown the whole thing and so you were leaning over the sink to try and look. Which was exactly the moment Bucky chose to walk into the room, only to promptly wear an affectionately amused smirk on his face, assuring you of your otherworldly beauty (“Oh come on, Buck, don’t mock me – “ “I’m not, you are otherworldly, doll, dazzling even!”) and pointing out that you were in desperate need of a floor-length mirror.

In the first few days of Bucky’s absence, you hung a bedsheet over it because you couldn’t bear the memory. In fact, you can’t recall the last time you actually looked at yourself. With utmost certainty, though, you can say that your skin must be grey and sunken and the darkened circles under your eyes a deeper shade of purple than when you were knee-deep in college finals. God, that time seems ages away. If you hadn’t gone to college then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation – you would have certainly never ended up at SHIELD. For a second you wish you hadn’t. This pain would not be part of your reality, then.

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him at all. And as much as this, right now, hurts, you wouldn’t trade it with any reality in the universe if it meant not knowing him. Not loving him. Not knowing his deepest, darkest secrets that he only opened up about after one particularly bad nightmare, with his head in your lap, not daring to meet your eyes.

No, if this pain is the price for his love then you will take it. You will let it eat at you until there is nothing left except your hollowed shell of a body because it will have been worth it.

You walk past the covered mirror and open the door, bare feet against the cold kitchen floor. You go to reach for the coffee maker when something registers with you. Something out of place, a slight inconsistency in your regulated, never-changing surroundings. You barely see it in your periphery.

Your movements still and your head slowly turns toward what is undoubtedly someone sitting in your living room. The moonlight glints on his left shoulder and you realise, within the smallest fractions of a second, who it is.

The hollow excuse for a heart that sits in your chest sputters and stills, before springing back into action twice as fast. He came back.

A steady stillness settles over you as you understand the situation. They sent him. Loose ends and all. Yet you’re not afraid, this death will be quick and quiet. It gives you an odd sensation of peace, to know that his will be the last face you see – even if it is the Winter Soldier’s face. But they’re still Bucky’s eyes.

“It’s okay”, you whisper.

His intent gaze never leaves you as you slowly, deliberately walk towards him, step by step. You know that Bucky is in there, too, and you need him to understand that you accept this. That it is not his fault. That you are ready to die if it is at his hands.

There is an unusual uncertainty in the Soldier’s eyes. You have seen footage of him, cold expression, a sort of stone-hearted efficiency about his movements, never a step too much. He has not moved yet. You feel every bit of skin on your feet connecting to the wooden floor as you move towards him, slowly, but steadily. If this is how you are meant to go, then you will.

You’re only three feet away from him as you stop. His eyes followed you all the way there. Now they start to flicker over your face, your body, confusion slowly but definitely showing in the crinkles on his forehead. He opens his mouth and you hold your breath.

“I –“, it comes out croaky, like he hasn’t used his voice in forever, so he clears his throat and starts again.

“I know you.”

Your lungs deflate, shakily. He hasn’t killed you yet. If he hasn’t killed you yet, why is he here? The Winter Soldier doesn’t hesitate. The uncertainty in his face sparks something deep, deep inside of you that you thought dead by now. Hope.

His eyes find their way back to your face and he is searching it now, not the stoic, cold mask of the Winter Soldier. You don’t dare speak. The fingers of his left hand flex with an electric whirr.

“I know you, but …” he trails off.

His right fist opens, fingers seemingly involuntarily reaching out. You step closer and lower yourself down, bare knees on the wood flooring, eyes not leaving his.

“I remember you.”

His voice is steadier now, more confident that he does, in fact, know you. That there is something inside his brain, something more than just the Soldier. More than just the missions. Just the trigger.

His hand, the real one, reaches towards your face and you close your eyes upon contact, a shaky breath leaving your lips. His index and middle finger trail across your cheekbone. Follow the curve of your lips. Trace your eyebrows. Your eyes flicker open and your breath gets caught in your throat because there he is, there he is, his eyes his own.

“Bucky –“

His name leaves your lips, a choked sob partially escaping. He blinks. Still, his eyes are his own. His lips part and then he whispers your name and you are certain this is a dream. A change of pace from the violent nightmares of late, but still a dream, because this can’t be true. How could it be.

But the hardwood floor is rough against your knees and his hand is warm against your cheek and he is there. He slides off the chair onto the ground before you and you feel hot tears spill from your open, disbelieving eyes. His other hand reaches for your face and then he’s holding you there, so unbelievably gentle, his eyes tortured and lined in purple but undeniably his own.

“You came back”, is the first real thing you say to him.

His thumb smoothes over the dark bruise under your eye, proof of sleepless nights and tired days.

“I’m so sorry”, is the first thing he says to you in his own voice.

You close your eyes, lids pushing tears over the edge and you let them drip down onto your bare thighs as you shake your head, a soft smile on your lips.

“There is nothing you need to be sorry about. None of this was your fault.”

“I – you’re hurt”, he states, matter-of-factly, and your eyes open again.

You try and put everything into your eyes, everything you feel, the hope, the relief, the love. Most of all the love.

“But you’re back. That’s all that matters. Do you hear me?”

His grey irises swim with regret and pain and fear and yet you see love in them. You gently touch your forehead to his and he sighs, eyelids fluttering closed.

“I love you, and you’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

The cold seeps into your body from the floor, your knees scraping against the hardwood. Neither of you dares to move, the calm of the situation too delicate, neither sure if this is real or just a particularly cruel dream. But it is too beautiful to disturb and so both of you remain where you are, hands gently touching the other. Thankful for this moment of peace.

**

Forgot my taglist consisting of one wonderful person: @mannien

[honeymoonjin]

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DAY SIXTEEN

The realisation of the decision you have to make hits you like a truck the moment you wake up.

You hadn’t lied to Yoongi last night. Chatting with him about it was helpful, and you’re insanely grateful for his attentiveness and the fact that you can be honest with him about things like that. But it doesn’t mean you’re any closer to knowing who you want to be eliminated.

You’ve barely been awake and coherent for a minute before your phone buzzes noisily on your nightstand. Blinking blearily at the screen, a message from Taehyung lights it up. Bunkroom, please.

He’d sent it two minutes ago, your phone giving you that 2min reminder. It must have been what woke you. Your sleepy fingers manage to type out a quick coming now before you force yourself out from the cosiness of the covers and heading down.

Jimin is already there when you arrive, arms crossed to preserve the warmth of his body and perched on the foot of Taehyung’s bed. The masseuse had picked the two-set of bunks, directly across from the door, and he sits wrapped up in blankets, cross-legged and leaning against the far wall. He pats the mattress with a covered hand and you sit between the two, Jimin naturally scooting up to sandwich you between the two.

“Is this an intervention?” you joke weakly, voice still croaky from sleep.

“Not really.” You feel the pressure of Taehyung’s head on your shoulder. “Do you know who you’re voting out yet?”

You let out a self-deprecating scoff. “I do not.”

Taehyung goes silent for a moment. “Well… I have an idea.”

Jimin turns to face him, clearly just as in the dark as you are. “About who to vote out?”

“Kinda,” Taehyung murmurs. The only light in the room is what sneaks in through the crack of the doorway. You let your eyes slip shut as Taehyung winds his fingers into yours. “I want you to vote out me.”

Both you and Jimin go stiff, protesting at the same time. “Tae…”

“No,” the older man to your left says harshly. “Why would you want that?”

Taehyung seems to similarly shrink away and lean in closer, making himself small. “It would be easier on Y/n,” he states in an equally small voice.

Your eyes snap open even though you can only see grey-scale versions of the boys. “Tae, that’s not how this is meant to be. I’m a big girl; I’ll live.”

“You don’t get it,” Taehyung insists, sitting up and untangling himself from you so he can face you full-on. “I know the decision is hard on you. But it’s really hard on us too, and I realised last night that it’s not because I’m worried about getting voted out, it’s because I hate seeing you so upset. We’ve already made a promise to each other. I’ve seen more of you and shared more with you than most of the other guys, and I just think… You know, fuck the competition. You and Jimin both mean more to me than the game, and so I think I’d be happy to take that hit to make things easier on all of us.” His gaze drops, fingers picking at the thread of the blanket. “And, you know, maybe we’d be able to keep us a secret longer if the others saw you vote me out.”

While you sit stunned into silence, Jimin burst into action, gripping your thigh gently but emphatically. “It should be me, then. You’ve been nothing less than a sweetheart this entire time, Tae, you don’t deserve last place. Let Y/n vote me.”

Taehyung chuckles, no sadness or resentment in his voice. “Nobody would believe that Y/n would vote you out, Minnie,” he quips, his teeth gleaming in the dim room. “You’re too good at what you do.”

“I’ve been an asshole. I got in a fight the other day. I don’t think it’s hard to believe at all.” Taehyung makes a noise of protest in his throat, so Jimin cuts back in before he can voice it. “At least let’s flip a coin for it. Leave it up to chance.”

Your body goes lax against the wall with a silent sob of miserable irony. Just yesterday Taehyung had jauntily suggested you could choose who to vote off with a coin toss, and now he was rifling through his bag for one, to see if he or Jimin would be the one to leave. “I haven’t even said yes,” you point out lowly, “I haven’t said I want this. That I’m happy for one of you to leave.”

Jimin lets out a quiet sigh, his face cast in the warm hallway light as Taehyung opens the door wider to see more. “But would you be happier if you made one of them seventh place? Had them think they’re the worst in the house?”

“At least this way we won’t be offended or mad at you,” Taehyung assures as he returns, running his thumb over the engravings on a 50 won coin. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

They’re waiting for you. You bite down on your tongue and force yourself to think. To picture the faces of the others, of how they might react. Hoseok if he was on the chopping block for the second time in a row. Namjoon if he felt like his inexperience was his downfall. Jungkook thinking the fight yesterday was the nail in his coffin, or Jin seeing your elimination as a rejection of him and his feelings. Yoongi after letting you confide in him only to send him figuratively packing.

You’d have to eliminate them eventually. All but one of the guys on this show would face that goodbye at some point. Was it selfish of you to push it off for one more week?

“You can flip it,” you decide after a moment, your stomach sinking immediately. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin’s grip on your thigh squeezes once comfortingly, and Taehyung rubs your shoulder, before he turns to his elder. “Min, heads or tails?”

“Heads,” Jimin picks without hesitation.

Taehyung, however, does hesitate. “Doesn’t heads come up more often?” he questions warily.

Jimin grits his teeth and nods. “It should be me.”

The masseuse frowns, his black curls like a dark halo as he steadies the coin on his thumb. “Whoever’s comes up gets eliminated?”

Jimin nods again. “Flip it, Tae.”

The second he flicks his thumb and the coin rises, you squeeze your eyes shut, not even breathing. Hoping that the moment where both of them are going to stay in could last a little longer.

The two boys go silent. You feel their eyes on you, then their hands, both slipping into yours just seconds apart from each other. Feeling your eyes prickle, you clear your throat. “Who is it?”

Without a word, your right side becomes heavy as Taehyung buries his face into your shoulder, free arm wrapping tightly around your waist.

You begin to cry before you can even think to stop it, leaning back into him as much as you can with both your hands occupied. Opening your eyes, they remain too blurry to really see out of, but you feel the two of them shift, fingers wiping under your cheeks and cupping your jaw.

“Hey, shh, don’t cry, petal,” Taehyung voice croons, smooth like velvet. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

You sniff shudderingly, detaching your hands from theirs so you can press over your eyes, composing yourself. “Sorry,” you mumble in a thick voice, “I’ll just miss you.”

You blink away the last of your tears so that his face comes into focus, lips curving slightly, eyes swimming with emotion and with tears of his own. “Hey,” he soothes again, “I’m not going anywhere. All this means is that I can’t have sex with you. It’s not like sex is the only valuable thing about you, the only thing I like about you, you know? I can still hold your hand, I can still be beside you, I can still make you smile. I wanna see that pretty smile again, petal.”

Even though you probably look like a mess, and your heart is fizzy with mangled emotion, you can’t fight the smile that stretches across your lips. Taehyung brightens at the sight, praising you softly as you reach out and shove him playfully. “You sap,” you whine petulantly, heart settling nonetheless.

Having let the two of you share that moment together, Jimin finally pitches in, his voice bright and soothing like yuja tea. “Worst case scenario,” he jibes lightly, “you’ll just have to fuck pup with his hands tied and take the punishment.”

Your laugh is watery but it’s genuine. “Ah, Tae, are you gonna put me in some crazy lingerie or something?”

“I don’t have to when you look gorgeous in everything you wear already,” he admits with a fond smile, before it stretches wider, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Lingerie sounds nice though. Good thinking.”

Jimin clears his throat lightly and stands up off the bed, slipping his phone out of his pocket to consult the time. “It’s just gone eight, so you have about an hour. I’ll give you two some privacy, yeah?”

Jimin shuts the door behind him, inadvertently pitching the room back into darkness. Taehyung lets out a breathy giggle, getting up to stumble around for the curtains.

You wince and shield your eyes when the white walls gleam with the brightness of the morning sun.

Taehyung looks more gorgeous in the well-lit room than he did in a dim one, so you will your eyes to quickly adjust, drinking him in. Deep chocolate curls resting on his brow, he shakes them back as he gestures up with a single hand. “We should probably go on the top bunk.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I don’t wanna get my hair caught on the metal springs on the bottom there,” he explains, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the network of wire that holds up the mattress of the top bunk just above your head. “I swear I’ve done that so many times in just this one night. It hurts.”

Slipping out dutifully, you climb the few rungs of the ladder to sit atop the bunk, reminded of the last time you stayed here with Namjoon and Hoseok. The mood is so different now, only emphasised by the way Taehyung gently tips you back against the pillow the second he joins you.

“Tae, what are you- Tae,” you gasp, feeling the slight tickle of his hair on your neck as he leans in and pulls the neckline of your sleep shirt over your shoulder, baring the flesh. His lips leave light butterfly kisses over the sensitive skin, making you sigh out at the feeling. “What are you doing, Tae?”

He sits up, braced by his forearms on either side of your head. Like this, his hair casts a shadow over his face, but you can see the insistent fire in his eyes. “I want to touch you, petal,” he confesses, “one last time.”

Your heart is seized with emotion, a lump thickening in your throat. “It won’t be the last last time, Tae.”

“True,” he acquiesces, “but for the rest of our time here I’ll have to see the others with you, our Minnie will be able to still be with you, but you and I won’t be able to do any more than hold hands. Won’t you let me treat you like your deserve before then?”

You nod quickly, breath hitching. “Touch me, Tae.”

This time he doesn’t waste time shifting the fabric to the side. Instead, his large palms slip under the small of your back, guiding you to arch it so he can slip your shirt off entirely, tossing it down all the way to the floor.

You sit up and peer over the edge with a wince, glancing back up at Taehyung. “Please don’t fall over,” you plead in a small voice.

The masseuse grins fondly, taking a peek before moving the other way, towards the wall. “It’s not that high,” he protests softly, even as he props himself up on one elbow, his leg thrown low over your thighs, keeping you locked in close too. His hand lowers to run lightly down your side, making you shiver. “Better?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Better.”

With a slightly bemused hum, Taehyung dips his head and his lips find your skin again, making use of the lack of shirt to trail kisses lower, unhurried even with the very real threat of the deadline hanging over you.

You let out an airy sigh at the intimate way he moves down your shoulder, over your collarbones, to the swell of your chest. Instead of a straight line, every kiss is plotted out in mindless curls and loops, like he wants to cover as much ground as possible.

As his hair tickles your skin, it sends tingles running down your nerves, your nipples peaking as they anticipate his attention. “Tae…” you breathe, giggling when his chaste touches make you shiver.

His voice vibrates slightly against your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he praises, his free arm slipping over to gently grasp your arm, thumb running over the crook of your inner elbow. “So gorgeous, petal.”

His palms are like hot coals against your skin as it breaks out in goosebumps, hair standing on end. It feels like a quiet eternity before his mouth reaches one of your nipples, closing around it with the sudden wet heat of his tongue. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and jerk, but the weight of his head, leg and arm carefully pinning you against the sheets keep you steady.

Taehyung takes his time worshipping your breasts, sucking your nipple with a wet pop as his hand shifts once more to play with the other. Pausing to lick the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he returns to roll the bud between them, making heat pool in your core.

Part of you feels like pushing his head between your legs, or wrapping your legs around his waist and demanding he fills you, but you don’t want this moment to be over any sooner than it has to be. Instead, your fingers wind into his hair, cradling his head to you as you arch your chest up into that delicious stimulation.

Even as you feel his cock plump up between the layers of clothing that separate you, he doesn’t so much as grind his hips, focussing fully on your pleasure. After what could be mere moments or entire minutes, he swaps over, leaning to the opposite breast to lave his tongue over it, baring the slightest nip of teeth to make you gasp.

It feels like a lazy eternity before his hand moves again, this time running a flat palm between your breasts, down your stomach and slipping under the worn elastic waistband. Wanting to give yourself a little room to breathe under the baggy pants you’d worn to bed, you’d foregone panties, and Taehyung hisses in sharply when his fingers run over your mound and immediately dip into your folds.

Recovering quickly, he begins to massage your hooded clit, using your own wetness to lubricate it for a smoother slide. You let out a throaty moan, legs parting to make more room for his sizeable hand. “Tae,” you pant out again, whimpering when he begins pressing kisses to your stomach.

“Yes, petal?” Taehyung questions sweetly, his movement on your clit so slow that you find yourself rocking your hips against him just for more stimulation.

“Want you to kiss me.”

“I am kissing you,” he counters, lips dragging over your hipbone as he speaks.

You whine. “On the lips, Tae.”

His fingers delve lower, parting your folds. “Which ones?”

Though the thought makes you clench around nothing, you push weakly at his shoulder in protest. “Up here, Tae, wanna kiss you properly.”

He gives in, shifting up to join his swollen lips to yours for the first time since you’d gotten up here. Just as you hook your hand on the nape of his neck and kiss him, he breaches your walls with two slick fingers, making you cry out into his mouth.

Taehyung chuckles, massaging you from the inside, fingers scissoring and curling rather than thrusting. “That feel good, petal?”

You nod shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you put your mind into kissing him properly, tongue running down the seam of his lips so that he parts them for you. He continues to work you open with languid grace, his fingers so long and deft that even the most minimal movements take your breath away.

He may be focused on your pleasure, but he doesn’t seem to be pushing you to orgasm, instead letting you bask in the warmth of your arousal and his steady stimulation. Even as he slips a third finger inside you and uses the base of his palm to rub against your clit, you’re reminded of a massage. The way he draws out the moment so that you can enjoy the experience of it, not just the final result. Your muscles go lax and one of your legs hitch up to spread yourself wider for him, but still his ministrations are so slow that you can’t even hear how obscenely wet you must be.

Still fully clothed, you can feel Taehyung’s hardness against your hip, his leg splayed over one of your thighs to keep you still for him. As your pleasure steadily rises, but that familiar curl in your stomach never tightens, you begin to grow needy. First attempting to rut against his fingers, then nipping at his lip in the hopes of riling him up, you eventually resort to pulling away from him and giving him your best puppy eyes. “Please, Tae, I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes are still blissfully shut from the kiss, and his brows furrow just slightly, hand stilling inside you. “I wanna make this last.”

You bite your lip, pressing a hand to his cheek fondly. “I don’t want to run out of time. We’ll end up being late to the meeting.”

Taehyung sighs, tilting his head to press a kiss to your palm. “Who cares if we’re late?”

Your lip twitches. “Sejin, probably. Do you want him coming up here at one minute past nine, interrupting us?”

The masseuse winces, his fingers slipping out of your wet heat. “You think he’d do that?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna risk it either,” you offer up.

“Fuck.” Taehyung sits up and quickly tugs down your waistband, making you squeal and giggle at his sudden change of pace. “You’re right, shit.”

He strips himself even quicker than he did you, jimmying out of his boxer shorts and tugging his shirt over his head like it’s scalding him. Immediately you feel his erection against your thigh, heavy and wet with precum. Instead of getting back up on top of you, you feel Taehyung’s hand - still sticky from your arousal - pulling your hip up to guide you to lie on your side.

With legs intertwined, he hitches your outer leg over his waist and lines himself up at your entrance. Almost shaking with excitement, you cling to him and hold your breath as he pushes forward, his head entering you slowly but surely.

It’s quiet in the bunkroom, the only sound being your shared breathing, but there’s something so vulnerable and tender in that silence, and you tremble as he bottoms out inside you. The angle you’re both at, lying side by side, makes it feel like he’s deeper than you’ve ever felt before, filling you completely. You picture his cock so far inside you that it presses against your stomach, and the thought makes you tremble.

“Okay?” Taehyung checks in, giving you a moment to adjust.

You nod and lean forward to capture his lips, savouring that familiar embrace. “Ready, Tae,” you confirm, clenching around his girth. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Taehyung lets out an unbidden groan, and just like that his patience is dissolved, rutting up into you with short, staccato thrusts that punch the air right out of you. Your fingers curl, clutching onto him for dear life as your nerves are set alight.

Every rock of his hips grinds his cock into the base of your clit, and you find yourself grinding against him, helplessly seeking out the best angle. “T-Tae, fuck, so good,” you manage to force out, voice wobbling even more than your legs.

His hands are all over you; running over your thighs, stroking your back, gripping your ass to meet every thrust. As you look over to him blearily, that same desperate hunger is evident in his face. You take a few moments to appreciate him. This will be the last time in a while that he’s writhing in carnal bliss because of you, and you fight to memorise every last inch of his face.

His hair is messy from sleep and the roughness of your current predicament, some curling at his temples even as the rest sticks up at odd angles, but on him it looks like some kind of wild halo that just makes him all the more gorgeous. His eyes are clenched shut even as his mouth goes slack. The tiniest gloss of drool gathers in the corner of his lips, which are a swollen pink, contrasting so beautifully with his olive skin. Light moans and exertions fall past those lips like a steady river, rushing louder every time you clench around him.

Unable to hold yourself back any more, you lurch forward, teeth pinching your lip with how eagerly you rejoin yourself to his. His responding whimper is muffled, but the way his thrusts stutter as his hands fly up to cup your face close to him speaks volumes.

The movement of his cock deep inside you isn’t measured, or ruthless, or graceful. It’s seeking pleasure and giving pleasure mindlessly, wishing to be as close as you possibly can for as long as you can, barely even speaking to each other.

His lips are equally uncoordinated as they slant against you, his tongue dipping out thoughtlessly, teeth nipping needily. You lose your mind to this primal moment between the two of you, sense of time fading away as minute details like a drop of sweat rolling down your back take centre stage. All you can focus on are his fingernails lightly pressing into your cheek; the roughness of his leg hair against your calf; the squeaking of the springs beneath you.

You can’t even tell if you’re making any noise yourself, so lost in those divine notes that slip off his tongue. At one point your mouths slide apart and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, focuses on thrusting harder. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, trying to meet those thrusts but every moment your pleasure mounts it just gets harder to make your body obey.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, if Sejin is waiting outside or if you still have most of the hour. Once he buried himself inside you, you slowly stopped caring about the outside world. Those doors felt like an impenetrable wall that would keep you and him secure for as long as you needed it. His voice comes to you muffled, a tickle on your collarbone. “Wanna feel you cum, petal,” he confesses, voice hoarse. “Are you close?”

You gasp, writhing against him. “Need more, Tae.” You barely manage to finish your sentence before fingers are grinding against your clit, pressing it between the pad of his thumb and his cock. Immediately, heat rushes through you, making your eyes roll back. “Fu-fuck, right there,” you cry, core pulsing with every thrust.

With an added source of pleasure, your orgasm begins to quickly approach, your entire body alight with it. At some point your eyes have fallen shut, and you’ve failed to meet his thrusts, almost entirely unable to think, your mind just overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock moving so deeply inside you.

Taehyung, although similarly delirious with pleasure, seems slightly more put together than you. His hips begin to snap faster, fucking into you without abandon even as the angle prevents him from getting too much momentum. His thumb speeds up, rolling your most sensitive bud over his shaft as it drives into you, and his free hand is trapped between you and the sheets, fingers tangled in your hair.

“Close, so close, gon’cum soon, Tae,” you warn him in a garbled stream when the stimulation begins to surmount what your body can handle. Toes curling, you pant and wait before your orgasm to hit any second, whining every time his length pulls out.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s breathy like a prayer. “Kiss me.”

You have just enough time to seek out his lips before the dam breaks and you’re cumming around him. Still seeking his own end, Taehyung ruts into you and makes out with you messily, groaning into your mouth when you tighten, nerves singing with raw pleasure, an orgasm that never seems to end.

You continue to kiss him as he finally begins to spill inside you, going tense and grinding his hips rather than thrusting. It feels so right, being joined like this with limbs entangled and every breath shared.

It takes you a few moments of coming down from your high to notice the wetness on your cheeks. At first you think you’re crying, overwhelmed from a powerful orgasm, but as you crack your eyes open you see Taehyung pull back, shoulders jerking and a hand clapped over his mouth and nose.

He cries silently, tears soaking the pillow and dripping off his nose, but there’s nothing you can say. It’s just a game, you still have me, we only have to wait a little while, these things wouldn’t bring him any comfort, not when he already knew them. His wasn’t a sadness you had to explain away or solve, it was one he just needed to feel in its entirety.

So, just as quietly as sobs wrack his body, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and hold him close.

He calms down eventually, pressing his cheek against the crown of your head, but the two of you stay like that for every last minute that you have left.

When your phone vibrates, followed quickly by his, you know that your time is up, and you dress in silence.

--

The meeting starts at 9:12 a.m. You know this, because by the time Taehyung descends the stairs - joining you several minutes later to prevent suspicion - Sejin is wearing a hole in the carpet, informing the group there is a schedule for a reason.

“Can we get started now?” Sejin asks in a snappish tone, before taking in a measured breath, calming himself. “Sorry. Long day.”

“But it’s only nine… thirteen a.m.,” Taehyung supplies helpfully. Sejin doesn’t seem to find it very helpful. “Sorry. Yes, we can start.”

As the masseuse settles himself on a couch beside Jimin, you do your best not to look their way. Sat beside Sejin on the edge of the coffee table, you’re facing the whole group, but there is a strange sense of calm that comes over you when you look at the others. Knowing they’re safe for at least another week.

“Once again,” Sejin announces, knee bumping yours, “the gentlemen have a chance to defend themselves before Y/n makes her decision. Clockwise around the room; Namjoon, we’ll start with you.”

It’s been a pretty rainy morning, a cold front frosting up the windows and making the heatpump slow to act. The academic has himself bundled up in a thick brown sweater and chunky pants, hands slipped between his own thighs for an extra bit of warmth. Somehow, the stocky clothes just make him look smaller. “Y/n,” he begins, “I know I’m never going to be as experienced as the others beside me, but I do really want to keep learning with you, and exploring different things. You make me feel really comfortable and at ease, which is unusual since usually I panic even thinking about kissing someone, and so I’d be really sad if I lost that learning curve that I’m going up with you. I hope you enjoy our time together enough that you’ll let me stay a little longer.”

As he is most days, Hoseok sits beside Namjoon, half-leaning on the taller man. He’s wearing sleek black today; skinny jeans, fitted turtleneck and a cinched waist. Reminiscent of the first two scenes you’d done together, you wonder if he’s wearing those clothes strategically. “My turn? Y/n, if you’re thinking of voting Namjoon out, vote me instead, and if you’re thinking of voting out any of the other guys, good luck to them.” His cheeks lift in a warm smile as you laugh, the humour skimming off some of the tension that weighs the room down. “But on a serious note, I think you and I are extremely sexually compatible, and I take great pleasure in watching you fall apart for me. I want for you to see me as somebody that you can trust to take care of you, but also push you and challenge you. For that, I do hope you choose not to eliminate me.”

You suck in a slow breath. It’s strange hearing them out with no intention of voting them out anyway. Rather than making you feel more indecisive, it reaffirms all the good that you have in this house, that you’re lucky to still retain after the meeting today. You owed Taehyung a massive thank you.

Wedged on the other side of Hoseok is the youngest gentleman. Jungkook has his legs tucked under him, fluffy grey bedsocks peeking out. When Sejin looks at hiim expectantly, he clears his throat. “I actually, um, have a presentation.”

As the rest of the room watches in bewilderment, he hops off the couch and flicks on the television. On the screen, two mirrored selfies of him pouting and winking bracket a message, VOTE FOR JUNGKOOK.

He sucks in a breath suddenly, whirling around to face you. “That should say don’t,” he explains in a rush, “don’t vote for Jungkook.”

Turning back, he crouches beside the cabinet to where a laptop is hooked up to the back of the TV. Changing slides, he straightens up again. A crossfade gives way to a slide which begins with the title, Who Is Jungkook?

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi grumbles, shifting to get himself comfortable on the middle couch he shares with Jin. “Wake me up when it’s my turn.”

Clearing his throat, Jungkook begins to read off the screen. “Who is Jungkook? Successful camboy, avid gamer, budding chef - that’s a picture of me helping hyung cook - and most importantly… Objectively the most attractive guy in the house.”

Even as he hurries to change slides, the other men - namely Jin and Taehyung - protest with cries of outrage and disbelief. Jungkook ignores them, just raising his voice enough to carry over their complaints, waiting for the new slide to bounce in above the previous one. “Why should you save Jungkook?” This time, Jungkook stays crouched, each bullet point having its own slide with a related picture of him. “I will stream with you. I will help cook for you. I will let you play as Widowmaker. I will work out every day so that I stay capable of lifting you easily. I will show you the unflattering pictures I take of the hyungs.” Somehow, Jungkook’s managed to capture a shot of Hoseok mid-yawn, nose scrunched and jaw wide open at the dining table. The man himself lets out an indignant huff, only relaxing once Jungkook switches slides again, a dissolve transition leaving you with a final selfie with Jungkook biting his lip and flicking the camera a peace sign. Jungkook straightens up. “I will give you all these things and more if I’m still in the competition, so please, don’t vote Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s hesitant smattering of applause fills the room as Jungkook switches off the television, sitting himself back down beside Hoseok. Even as he smiles and acts casual about it, you can see his nerves in the way he wrings his hands in his lap. Even if you hadn’t already decided to vote out Tae, there was no way you could’ve voted Jungkook out this week.

Jin is next up, on the couch directly in front of you. His ment is simple. “Vote me out if you think I deserve it. If you genuinely think I’m the worst in the house. I don’t think you do.” The rest of the room falls silent, waiting for him to continue, but he sits back and shuffles Yoongi’s shoulder to indicate his turn.

Sitting up, honey blonde hair disheveled from the back of the couch, Yoongi clears his throat and looks over at you. “You and I spoke last night about the others, about reasons for them to stay in, reasons for them to be voted out. But you didn’t cover me, so here’s mine. Pros: I know my way around the female body in general and, I believe, your body specifically. I’m very willing to give most things a go, I learn fast, and you know that I can keep my head above the water in moments of crisis. I’m a safe person to have in the game.”

You grin. “And your cons?”

Yoongi harrumphs, pouting petulantly. “Well, I’m not going to say them now, am I? I’m trying to promote myself.”

Your bemusement is quick to evaporate when you realise it’s Jimin and Taehyung that are last to defend themselves. Running clockwise, Taehyung is the one who has to speak up now. His eyes dance around the room rather than settling, fingers fiddling with the zipper on his jacket pocket. “Y/n,” he announces, voice so soft and tentative, “I think you and I have a lot of, um, potential together in the bedroom, and, you know, if you keep me in the game, you’ll be able to enjoy the best hands in the business. And I really enjoyed my time with you so much, especially this week. It’s like we have an understanding when we...” Taehyung’s mouth opens, closes. “Uh, so… Don’t vote me out, because you’ll miss out on those things.”

You try not to let the blue cloud in your chest show on your face, staying neutral. You and him both knew you would miss out on those things. That you would miss those things too. Giving a little nod, hyperaware of your reactions, you turn to Jimin.

He’s looking you dead-on, barely moving. “You should vote me out,” he says plainly. “Not...any of the others.” Not Taehyung. “I was a dick the other day, I’ve been an asshole mostly this whole time, and I’m sure the other guys would love it if you did, because they all know I’m the biggest competition. If you ever miss me, I have countless videos online you could watch, or you could watch me fuck one of the guys here. And I’m sure you already have a name in mind, but change it to mine. It should be me.”

Your mouth goes dry, heart racing sickly in your chest. Taehyung’s staring at Jimin with puppy eyes, a silent protest. On the other side of the room, Jungkook lets out a surprised chuckle. “Reverse psychology!” he chirps. “Nice, hyung.”

“So, Y/n,” Sejin asks, voice warm with sympathy, “who’ll it be?”

With eyes stinging, you duck your head, the name on your tongue bitter like battery acid. What you wouldn’t give to throw yourself away instead. “Taehyung.”

The room goes dead quiet. No sighs of relief, expressions of condolence. No announcement from Sejin.

In the two weeks you’d been here, you’d been in this position once before. But that time, exactly one week ago, you’d been subject to a sudden change in events that saved everyone. Now, with Taehyung’s name still hanging in the air like a melancholy ghost, the weight of this decision and its finality sit heavy around the room.

The first cut is the deepest, and as Sejin begins to instruct Taehyung on how to proceed as an eliminated member, you feel like your heart has been sliced in two. The half of you that wants to rush up to him and kiss him silly and take back what you said, and the half that’s filled with an overwhelming relief that you’ve kept the others safe for now.

Taehyung doesn’t look at you much as he leaves. There’s a moment, a single glance, where he gives you a teary smile of approval and comfort. A million words that you can’t say in front of everyone. But then he turns, and he walks out the front door.

Jungkook, who was too shocked into silence to even be listening, straightens up with the wooden thunk of the door closing. “He’s not leaving for good, is he?”

Sejin shakes his head stiffly, before clearing his throat and slipping back into his producer mode. Even as he does so, you can see the elimination upsets him too, his eyes sad. “Taehyung is going around back to the confessional booth for his exit interview. He doesn’t need to be around for prompt distribution, so he’s going to just do it now. Which brings me to this week’s theme.” Sejin pauses for dramatic effect, but it only serves to highlight the sullen mood in the room. “Work hard, play hard.”

You frown in confusion. The first two weeks were easy. Locations, roleplay. You knew what type of thing would be occurring even if you didn’t have the specifics for each member. But this time, you felt totally lost.

Sejin continues. “This week, prompt distribution is also different. Usually, we have you randomly pick a prompt from the bunch. But this time, we have a Bangasm Bomb coming into play. Week 3’s Bangasm Bomb is that whoever won fan favourite in Week 2 will distribute the prompts for Week 3. Yoongi, that’s you.”

Though all of you are a bit reserved, you can’t help but perk up, the interest around the room growing. Yoongi, sat beside Jin but taking up most of the couch, sits up suddenly. “So I give them out randomly, or…?”

“You read all of the prompts and assign them however you choose. Without revealing the prompt to the rest of the group, I ask that you give a reason for each choice.”

Yoongi grins, jumping up in an usual show of liveliness to get the slips of folded paper off Sejin. “I guess I picked the right week to absolutely kill it in the audience vote.” He makes you wait an eternity as he painstakingly opens them all and considers them, eyes dark as they search the room, making little noises of consideration and indecision. Finally, he stands up straight and immediately pockets one.

“A reason, Yoongi,” Sejin reminds.

The doctor blinks. “Because I want it?” Moving to the next one in his pile, he approaches Hoseok first. “Okay, this one is because I think it’s best done by a professional.”

Hoseok takes the slip and holds it close to his chest as he reads, brows lifting. “That’s probably a good idea,” he affirms. “Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi, clearly gleeful with his position of temporary power, glances at the next slip. “Ooh! Okay, this one is for Jin-hyung because it fits perfectly.”

Jin accepts the slip warily, letting out an exasperated laugh when he reads it. “You little shit.”

Yoongi’s grin is wide enough that you can see his gums. “I love this,” he informs Sejin, “whoever came up with this needs a raise. Anyways; next one.” Opening a fourth piece of paper, he immediately seeks out Namjoon. “I’m giving this to you because I think you’ll get a kick out of it, and I heard through the pipeline that you like to be called daddy.”

Namjoon goes red faster than a changing traffic light, spluttering violently on a lungful of air when he reads the prompt.

Before he has the chance to put it away, Hoseok puts a strong hand on his shoulder and holds him in place so he can quickly sneak a peek of it, collapsing into a peal of laughter when he sees it. “You’re probably right,” he quips to Yoongi, who preens in satisfaction.

“Okay, moving on,” Yoongi continues, “Jungkook, this one’s for you. I figure you’re such a switch that you could play this either way, and I’m curious.”

You furrow your brows, as does Jungkook, but the moment the youngest man reads his prompt, the lines in his face smooth out in realisation. “Thanks, hyung,” he offers up sweetly. “I like this one.”

“I’m sure you do, kid,” the doctor says with a pat of his shoulder, before handing Jimin the final prompt. “And I’m giving you this one because it’s the last one left.”

Jimin scoffs at the weak reasoning, but his eyes dart up to you immediately once he looks at what it says. With a lip curling in bemusement and interest, Jimin thanks Yoongi. “This suits me just fine.”

Done assigning prompts, Yoongi turns to Sejin. “If this show gets greenlit for a second season and you don’t offer me a job, I’ll be personally offended.”

Sejin rolls his eyes with a begrudging smile. “Good job, Yoongi. And meeting adjourned, ev- Wait, no! There’s more; almost forgot.”

You lift your brows, waiting for some other groundbreaking twist or dramatic flair that seemed to keep cropping up during these meetings.

The producer stands himself up, patting his back pocket where his phone rests. “I just had a meeting with the showrunners, and they’re not happy with the punishment for breaking elimination rules. I’ll go tell Taehyung this after, since it mostly concerns him and Y/n, but as an FYI, the protocol around eliminated members has changed a bit.” He takes a breath, hands up and ready to gesture his explanation. “Basically, our old system was that if an eliminated member touched Y/n sexually, he’d be out of the house for good, and if Y/n touched the eliminated member sexually, she had to wear an outfit of that person’s choice. Uh, it seems that second system isn’t really that drastic, and could easily be manipulated, so we’re changing it up upon the showrunners’ request. Now, if the eliminated member touches Y/n sexually, he’ll have to leave as usual, but if Y/n touches him sexually, her punishment has changed to being taken out of the house for 24 hours.”

You tip your head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like a punishment.”

Sejin gives a strained smile. “You’ll be taken out of the house for 24 hours, handcuffed to me.”

“Huh?” Jin asks incredulously. “Bit wish fulfilment isn’t it, big guy?”

The producer has the good grace to blush. “It’s not like that, and it wasn’t my decision. Apparently, the viewers these days are taking more interest in the workings of staff. Additionally, as with the clothing rule, handcuffing Y/n to another member of the house is once again too easy to work around. Anyways, that’s the new rule. Got it?”

You blink. “So… let’s say I run outside right now and touch Tae’s dick. I’d then have to be handcuffed to you for a whole day and like, do producer shit? Meetings and editing and stuff?”

“That is correct.”

“What happens when one of us needs to pee?”

Sejin lets out a weak laugh. “You’d be allowed out of the cuffs to use the bathroom.”

“What happens when it’s nighttime?” you question, heart sinking as you realise your loophole to Tae is quickly closing up.

“Well, I usually go home around 11 each night, and my girlfriend is happy to take the couch should that happen.”

“What- What if-” Your mind whirls as the other guys chuckle at your predicament. “What if I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink but you’re still sleeping? What if the guys in your meetings ask why you have a young girl handcuffed to you and I have to explain it’s technically a sex thing? What if-”

“All the things that make this a punishment, Y/n. I suggest you practice restraint and avoid breaking the rule.”

Your glare is softened by a petulant pout. “You’re a sadist.”

“This wasn’t my idea, Y/n. It’ll be a punishment for me too.” Sejin clears his throat. “Anyways; meeting adjourned. I’m off to catch Taehyung up.”

The stunned silence lasts no more than ten seconds once Sejin leaves. Jungkook, a toothy grin and cheeky eyes, starts bouncing in his seat. “Y/n and Sejin sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-”

“Shut up,” you shout with a whine. “This sucks.”

“Such a relief you have six other dicks still to choose from,” Yoongi drawls. “I’m sure you’ll live without one.”

Without thinking, you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh at your antics, before pushing on Jin’s thigh to stand up. “Well,” the doctor announces, “I, for one, could do with a celebratory brunch.”

Jimin frowns. “What are we celebrating?”

Yoongi beams. “Me making you all my little bitch,” he declares, letting out a startled hoot when Jin jumps up to tackle him, manhandling him towards the kitchen.

As the two chefs of the house begin to lug out ingredients from the pantry, Jungkook turns to the rest of the group with a worried frown. “D’you think Tae is gonna be really sad?” he asks in a small voice.

Finally getting up off the hard surface of the coffee table, you make your way over to him, perching yourself on the arm of the couch. “Maybe,” you admit honestly, “but I think if he needs space, he’ll go upstairs, and if he wants comfort, he’ll come back to us. We should let him choose.”

As it turns out, Taehyung chooses both. The kitchen is steaming with a delightfully savoury aroma by the time he comes back in through the front door. He hovers in the entrance to the kitchen and dining area for a moment or two, waiting for the chatter to die down once everyone catches sight of him.

Announcing that he was taking a long shower but that he’d be back down and not to wait up, he’d rushed to his bedroom and left you all to confusedly finish preparing the food. He doesn’t return until you’ve all almost finished eating.

When he does, though, he appears like an entirely different person.

Wearing a raggedy shirt and pants, face red from a hot shower but hair dry, he dumps a white plastic bag on an empty space on the table with a dramatic flair.

Jimin watches him warily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Taehyung chirps easily, “we’re dying our hair today.”

The words out of his mouth are totally unexpected, and everyone freezes into a bewildered silence.

Hoseok, with a spoonful of soup and green onion halfway to his face, falters. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Taehyung explains, like this is the most important thing he’s ever said. “I don’t want to be excluded and I want to have some fun with you guys instead of moping, so we’re going to dye our hair together.” Pushing aside empty bowls and half-eaten side dishes, the masseuse begins emptying the plastic bag onto the table. Bleach, developer, blood red dye, an emerald green and a deep royal blue.

“Where did you even get those from?” Jin asks, abandoning his plate to eye the products with interest.

“Ordered them online,” Taehyung answers with a shrug. “Well - technically I ordered them ages ago, Jungkookie wanted the e-girl TikTok hair, but I reckon we should just go for it. Some of us are in urgent need of a dye job. Namjoon; that’s you.”

The academic recoils, tugging at his grown-out faded purple ends. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Hoseok winces. “We don’t all have to dye our hair, do we?”

“‘Course not, hyung, you can supervise.”

It takes Yoongi insisting that everyone help clean up the table first that springs everyone into action, and in no time at all Taehyung has scoffed up whatever leftovers remained, and Jin has gathered additional supplies like bowls, towels and tin foil, hustling your ragtag group of eight down to the first-floor bathroom.

It doesnt take long before a temporary salon has been set up in there. With chairs taken from the kitchen, product being mixed in little black bowls on the sink benchtop, and three willing victims clutching towels over their shoulders.

In the first chair, Namjoon is watching in mild alarm as Jimin mixes bleach and developer in a bowl, eyeballing the measurements. With gleaming blue hair of his own, Jimin seems more experienced than some of you, but his job is more difficult than the other stylists of the day, since he had to get rid of Namjoon’s purple before bleaching and dying the lot.

You’d chosen the easiest of the three, Jungkook, and painstakingly consult with some of his favourite TikToks for the right amount of hair to section out as Taehyung takes charge of mixing his own concoction of bleach.

Finally, it’s Jin who has also volunteered to dye hair, although it’s not his own that he wishes to dye. Yoongi sits with a bitter scowl on his face as Jin pours in different coloured dyes into one bowl like a mad scientist. With already blonde hair, Yoongi at least has the luxury of skipping out the extra step, but it just gives Jin more time to conceive a crazy colour.

Hoseok, happy to take on the supervisor role, flutters around and hypes everyone up; massaging Namjoon’s shoulders, letting Jungkook show him countless videos and grimacing at what Jin has in his bowl.

“Hey, Tae,” Yoongi calls out in a forced casual tone, “why is it that when you were the one who bought the dye, you aren’t the one getting chemicals all over his hair?”

The masseuse shrugs easily, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder as he stirs away. “What can I say? I’m an artist, not a canvas.”

Jungkook blinks up at him past your shoulder. “I’d like to see you dye your hair, Tae. You’d look pretty with any colour.”

Taehyung reaches out to pinch the maknae’s cheek fondly, but accidentally leaves a smear of white behind. Jumping into action, you hold Jungkook’s chin steady as you wipe it off with your thumb, feeling his eyes on you and his breath hitch.

“Oh, you’re not- Y- You’re going straight in there,” Namjoon stutters shakily. Letting go of Jungkook’s face and stepping away, you glance over to Namjoon and Jimin.

The younger man has Namjoon’s hair sectioned with clips, painting thick globs of bleach onto the purple in his lower layers. “Don’t worry,” Jimin assures, “you’ll look fantastic after this.”

“Worst case scenario, you can lop it all off,” Jin points out cheerily.

Yoongi’s arm reaches out between folds of the towel on his shoulders, keeping Jin at bay. “You better not lay a fucking hand on me with that mindset.”

“Don’t be silly, Yoonie,” Jin teases, adding in some more green. “You’re my Mona Lisa.”

Yoongi humphs and collapses back against his chair, pink smattering his cheekbones.

Taehyung’s hand wraps lightly around your wrist, handing you the bleach he’d mixed up. “We’re good to go,” he declares to you and Jungkook, “I wanna go see what colour Yoongi-hyung’s getting. You guys start.”

Left in charge of the bleach, you turn back to Jungkook. Standing over him, it’s impossible to ignore the way his doe-eyes observe your every move. “Are you still good with these two chunks?” you check.

He nods quickly, lips pressing into an eager but shy smile. “Do you think it’ll look good?” he asks hopefully.

“You’ll look gorgeous.” Getting him to hold the bowl of bleach up for you, you dip the brush included in the box and begin to brush the white, thick liquid over the strands of black hair. He doesn’t flinch as the brush moves higher, sitting so still and patient. “What colour are you going to get it?”

His cheeks puff as he blows air into them. “Hm, I don’t know. Tae said maybe pink? I could mix in only a little bit of red so it’s not so strong. But then pink fades fast.”

You hum, switching to the other side. “You could dye it red and then when it fades it would fade to pink.”

He lets out a little gasp. “That’s smart! I like it.”

From down the room, Taehyung’s voice echoes. “Hyung, you’re fucked!”

“Hey!” Jin cries. “It’s going to look good, just trust me on this!”

Taehyung leans his back against the sink and clasps his palms together like he’s praying. “Yoongi-hyung, picture this. You’re Bob Ross. You’re painting a beautiful lake on a sunny day. Blue sky, clear water, lush riverbanks. Can you see it?”

Yoongi frowns. “Sure.”

“The little cup of dirty water you used to clean your brushes with? That’ll be your hair.”

“Oh, god,” Yoongi moans miserably, slumping so low he almost falls off the seat.

“Disrespectful little brat,” Jin enunciates as Taehyung moves back across the room. “This was your idea!”

It takes the entire rest of the day, but by the time you all sit down on the couches for dinner - courtesy of a food delivery app, Yoongi and Jin both too tired to cook - three of the eight of you have shiny new looks.

Jungkook looks undeniably striking with his stripes of firetruck red framing his face. Contrasting sharply with the black of the rest of his hair, you could easily mistake him for a Twitch streamer or something, pulling off the look with a natural coolness.

Done with purple, Namjoon had taken advantage of Jimin’s decent level of expertise and let the blue-haired man work his magic, bleaching his hair a couple of times and dying it to the unusual choice of silvery grey, the roots slightly darker so that - in Jimin’s words - he could get away with regrowth for longer.

But perhaps the biggest surprise of all is Yoongi, who smugly peacocks around the room with a unique shade somewhere between mint and teal in his hair. Jin had quietly confessed to you and Jungkook when he was cleaning his bowl that it wasn’t in fact, the colour he intended it to be, but that what Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The blue-green tones are somewhat reminiscent of the clear lake Taehyung was describing, and it brings out the soft pink of Yoongi’s lips and his dark lashes so beautifully. How Jin’s luck never seemed to run out, you didn’t know, but part of you wished you had volunteered yourself for a dye job too. Now you, Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung were the leftovers with natural hair.

Like some sort of unspoken agreement, the seven of you keep a close eye on Taehyung throughout the evening. You let him pick a movie for all of you to watch, pile extra food into his bowl, Jungkook even brings a secret stash of chocolate down from his room to share with him. All of you sensitive of how he must be feeling, it’s only natural that you take extra good care of the masseuse.

And, when it finally comes to head up to bed, Taehyung is flooded by offers to keep him company in the bunkroom. It’s Jungkook he picks, the two thick as thieves, and shortly after midnight your phone goes off from a text that Jungkook has sent to everyone except Taehyung. Just two words that are enough to allow your mind and body to rest. He’s okay.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #ot7 x reader #ot7 smut #bts series

[skymaiden32]

Radiation Hazard

Tagging: @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @dragonoffantasyandreality (Feel free to ask if you would like to be added)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

They never got to have that conversation. The alert had sounded before they could. Now, here they were, standing in front of their father’s desk as Alan gave them the run down.

“There’s been an incident in the Swiss Alps. A convoy of transport trucks transporting nuclear waste has lost several of the containers. The truck that was carrying them lost control around a difficult bend and now they can’t get to them. If the waste isn’t retrieved and any damage to the containers repaired in the next 24 hours at the most, we could be facing a serious nuclear disaster across the mountains and Europe.”

Gordon gave John a meaningful look. John glared right back. “Don’t say it.” The blond shrugged. “Not yet, at least.”

Jeff cleared his throat, causing his boys to turn around. “Tell them International Rescue is on their way.” He faced his eldest. “Scott, get up there in Thunderbird 1. Alan will give you the details in the air.” Scott nodded, disappearing as the wall leading to the hangar spun around. The patriarch spun to Virgil. “Take the Recovery Vehicles, Pod 5. They’re the only machinery with a winch long enough to reach that waste. Make sure you have your radiation suits with you, just in case.” He sighed. “Gordon, it’s your turn out on a rescue, but we’re gonna need all the help we can get for this one. So…”

John spoke up. “I’ll go, Father. I wanna help them with this.” Jeff smiled.

“I expected nothing less. Off you go now.” The trio split up, Virgil disappearing behind the painting as the aquanaut and astronaut rushed toward Thunderbird 2’s passenger chute. On their way down, John looked sternly at Gordon.

“You two better not fight, Gords. This is-”

Gordon cut him off. “Serious. I know, John. I also know how to put something as trivial as a fight aside for a few hours, especially where a rescue’s involved.” He smiled at his immediate older brother. “And we were going to talk about it, but the rescue call came in before we could.”

They were almost in position, so John nodded, smiling back. “Good. You guys can talk later. You might even get a chance to on the mission.”

Gordon sighed as the elevator came to a stop. “The sooner the better.” He lowered his voice so that Virgil, who was completing pre-flight checks, wouldn’t hear him. “I hate it when we all fight.”

Gordon and John got changed into uniform quickly, having done so for so long it was practically muscle memory at this point, getting strapped into the passenger seats. The sky was clear as Thunderbird 2 blasted off from the ramp, leaving home far behind. Virgil expertly steered his ship in the direction of the mountain range on the other side of the world. Thunderbird 1 was already miles ahead, and would likely arrive within the hour. But slow and steady wins the race, as Virgil always says. The green transport ship was right behind her sister. And Virgil, John and Gordon were right behind their brother.

------

Scott frowned at the complete lack of landing room directly over the Danger Zone, and sighed. This rescue was gonna be tricky. Thunderbird 1 was fine to operate and oversee the operation from the air, but Thunderbird 2 had to land to unload the equipment from the pod, and the closer the better. He called in.

“Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1. Come in, Virgil.”

It took a few moments for his immediate brother to respond, and when he did, there was just a hint of static, likely as a result of the snowstorm, but they could hear each other just fine. “Receiving you, Scott. How’s it going over there?”

Scott hummed. “I’m above the ridge now. Looks like you might have a bit of trouble getting there.”

“How so?” Virgil asked cautiously, gripping the wheel.

“There’s nowhere big enough to land either Thunderbird in the immediate vicinity, although I’m looking for a space big enough for 2. The convoy has moved on so you can get through, and the road’s been closed from both sides, but it’s still a very narrow ledge, Virg. I’m not surprised that truck lost control based on what I’m saying.” The eldest Tracy brother paused before continuing. “Be careful, Virgil.”

Virgil rolled his eyes at the very subtle smotherhen behaviour that was typical from Scott.

“FAB, Scott. I will. Don’t you worry about us.” The radio clicked off.

John sighed from his seat behind Thunderbird 2’s pilot. “He’ll never not worry, will he?” Gordon chuckled.

“It’s not in his particular brand of Tracy DNA.” Virgil hummed.

“It’s not in mine either…” He turned to Gordon, who looked sadly at the second born Tracy.

“Virgil…”

He shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later.” Gordon frowned at that.

“We’ve got some time yet before we get there. Besides, I’d rather get this behind us as soon as possible.” Virgil smiled sadly at the ginger-haired aquanaut behind him.

“I know. And I’m sorry Gords,” Virgil turned his attention back to the skies ahead. “But I’ve gotta focus on flying.”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderfam #jeff tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds calendar 2022 project

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.3

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU  ♥Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory.  ♥Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥TW: Heavy NSFW. Unprotected sex – this is just fiction, don’t forget to take care of you and your partners while having sex! . A bit of toxic behavior from Law. Drama (a bit much). No further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥Thank you for the likes and follows, I appreciate it them so so much! If you wanna know when I’ll be updating the next chapters, you can follow me on Twitter @LawIsMyWaifu, come interact I love to have mutuals that love Law and One Piece as much as I do 

Word count: 3.1K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3}  {CH4} {CH5} «

Chapter 3 

Little moans escaped my mouth, as he pinched and twisted, softly, the most sensitive parts of my breasts.  “Can I show you something?” he asked, now looking at me with lasciviousness. “Uhum”, I moaned, desperate to know what he was going to do. He then slipped a little sexy laugh and said “ROOM” and quickly the circle of power was surrounding us. I’ve always told him that inside of it my senses enhanced, this time wasn’t the exception. He then expressed “counter shock”. I lost my breath, because I knew how deadly that attack was, but instead, a soft electricity ran through his fingers through my nipple, making me squirm.

Every little shock my skin experienced, was slowly sending me to heaven. Pangs travelling directly to my core every time I heard his seductive laugh. He was enjoying this; he certainly knew what he was doing. 

Law then crawled over me, placing his tattooed, well defined, tanned arms at each side of my face, kissed me and ordered me “stand up”, with a lustful smile.  

And without questioning, I did as he told. I stood up in front of him, who also stood up and told me to wait right there. He reached his katana, looking at me with almost a wicked look. “I hope you don’t get cold”, he said and unsheathed the Kikoku. Widening my eyes, I heard him express “Scan” followed by a movement of his hand that took all my clothes, even my underwear, right away. 

I was left completely naked in front of him. My cheeks turned to red, and I wasn’t able to move. He approached me while slowly taking his shirt off, exposing the perfect anatomy of his torso. I traveled with my eyes every single black line of his tattoos, the way they garnished his skin, his abs, the little scars that remained from fighting at Dressrosa. Oh, so tempting, so enticing. I was so needy for him. I wanted to get railed by this man, real hard. 

Law licked his lips subtly, while looking me up and down, when suddenly violently grabbed my neck with his right hand. He was not choking me, nor caressing my skin. He applied just the perfect pressure to the sides of my neck and with his knee roughly separated my legs. 

The skilled fingers of his free hand reached my sex. “You are already so wet, Y/n-ya”, he said, discovering how aroused I was. “I want to get you even more wet”, he whispered next to my ear.  I could only say his name in between gasping breaths. I couldn’t focus on more than primal desire.

He began to move his fingers in circular motions over my clit, and slowly introduced his thumb on me. In and out.. In and out... and with every moan I let out, he increased the pressure on my neck. 

The surgeon let go of me, knelt and started kissing my stomach softly, downwards, arriving at my thighs, kissing and biting the inside of them. I stretched my head back and instinctively grabbed his hair. Law loudly growled and placed his mouth over my sex, licking up and down, tracing also circles, enjoying my flavor, as he said, “you taste delicious”. My legs started to get weaker. I was groaning, heavily breathing, until I let myself go, when he made me reach the peak of my pleasure. 

“Now, let me show you how skilled I am with my mouth, too”, I said, slowly putting my hands onto his hips and pulling him to me so we could be facing each other more closely, Slowly kissing first the commissure of his lips, and then placing a kiss onto his lips. I noticed he was breathing more heavily and when my stomach met his I could feel his erection against my lady parts. I pushed him into a big wooden couch. I hopped onto his lap. Being over his lap made me feel his sex pressed, rubbing against mine while I started moving with an exquisite motion. We kept kissing, touching, feeling our flesh spellbound from his scent, that now has turned into the mix of his sweet perfume with hints of sweat. 

Kissing first his neck and then leaving a trace downwards, his collar bones, lower… lower. I stood up and kneel at his feet. 

I took a long time to enjoy his well-defined abs going lower till getting to his navel. My ears were blessed with his low moanings, the little spasms that his muscles did every time I came closer to his skin with my mouth and how he got his head thrown back. I followed the happy trail of little hairs that took me to his pelvis, perfectly determined by the V shape his lower abs formed.

I stopped as he bended down, placed a kiss on my forehead and then onto my mouth, I gave him another in return and put my head down. It was time for me to show him my oral skills were serious shit. I was delighted with how he groaned and came arching his hole lower back from the pleasure my mouth has given to him. 

Outside the blizzard was still intense, as I could see through the window, after Law not letting me rest a bit was behind me pushing me against the wooden wall. My cheek was pressed on the cold glass of the window, that slowly fogged with the steaming heat of my skin. 

Law grabbed my chin, passing his arm from behind brushing his thumb softly over my lips. I opened my mouth softly, receiving his finger into my mouth, slowly sucking it. 

I could feel his hard rock bulge against my ass, so I reached for it, passing my hand back. “Fuck me, Law”, I said begging to be filled with his member. “That’s what I’ve been waiting to do for so long, Y/N-ya”, he moaned. 

He rubbed his manhood, first over my buttocks, then in between and finally over my vagina, softly lubricating it with the fluids of my arousal. 

My "best friend" inserted his dick inside of me, softly, slowly, but not completely… it felt like a sweet torture and I, begging said, "just fuck me already, please, I want you".  I sounded - and I was - desperate to feel the sensation of his hard sex fully invading my insides. He laughed, with a side smile, that I could not see, but that I felt on the skin of my back, because he was pressing his face against it. And with a big thrust stretched completely my walls. 

He moved his hips in a certain way, not so violently but firmly, in and out. ” Mh.”... I didn't want to be loud, because hearing his accelerated breath, his groans, was heavenly.  “Faster, faster please”, I asked him to increase the rhythm of the pounding. He did. Beads of sweat covered both of our bodies while we got there. I finished followed by Law, who filled me up with all of his love juice.  The sensation of being full of his fluids inside of me was delectable, I even remained still just to feel it flow and drip from my insides into my thighs. 

Both were sweaty, exhausted but drunks from each other, so we moved to bed. And after some more hours of letting ourselves indulge in the pleasure of lust, our bodies fall into exhaustion… The storm was not near to be over, outside the blizzard was still violent, and the strong winds have destroyed some of the pines of the forest. Law put his left arm around me, bringing me close to his chest and I placed my head on it, as well as my hand over his abs. He kissed my forehead and we both went to sleep… 

A patch of sunlight hit my eyes. Lying next to me, Law was still asleep. I stood up slowly, trying not to wake him up because I know how exhausted he gets when uses his ope ope no mi. And he certainly did waste a lot of energy all night long with the little shocks of his “counter shock” and maintaining the “room” active, just for me, to feel even more intense every little sensation. 

The logs of the fireplace were no longer burning, so I got a little cold. I saw Law’s shirt on the floor, picked it up and put it on. It was long enough to cover half of my thighs. I was spellbound from his ambrosial scent. 

My stomach was growling as the hunger took over, when suddenly I heard someone knocking on the door of the cabin. Outside was sister Alley, a few children and Gerald with a big basket. Quickly I grabbed my jeans and opened the door slightly. “Doctor Y/N!!” shouted one of the girls trying to force the door to be completely open and peeking through it. “Where is the tattooed doctor?!! I wanna see him!! the other kid asked, almost shouting. Gerald told them to be quiet and handed me the basket with a look of complicity. I thanked them and they came back to the main building. 

Inside the basket there was a bunch of food for us to have breakfast. I started laughing when I saw a big baguette, because I remembered how much Law hates bread… God knows why. 

While preparing some tea, I watched the man that sent me to heaven a few hours ago, peacefully sleep. I could have stayed there forever, just the two of us.  No worries, no responsibilities, no danger.

“Puru puru puru”. Rang my Den Den Mushi. “Gatcha. Y/n, where the hell are you both? it’s morning already! I’ve called you several times but somehow this thing won't connect”, reproached Penguin. “Shh stop yelling, Law is asleep. We were supposed to return yesterday, but the storm got worse than we thought. We will be there in a few hours. Enjoy the island a bit more until we get there”, I told my crew member. “You both slept in the same room again, Y/N? When are you going to announce the wedding? hahaha!”, Penguin mocked me. “It’s not what you think, don’t be stupid, she’s like my sister, we are done with the chatty. We’ll be there in a few hours, prepare to sail”, Law suddenly appeared from behind taking the speaker of the transponder off from my hand, reprehended his subordinate and hung up. 

“She is like my sister” ... those words hit me harder than expected. I’m not your sister… I’ve never… Oh lord… I shook off the thought and gave him a smile, followed by a “Good morning, I made you some tea”. “Thanks”, he expressed almost apathetic while brushing his hair with his fingers. “Can you give me my t-shirt back?”. My smile slowly disappeared. Why is he being so rude?, I thought, and a feeling of upset was installed in me. “Yeah, here, take it” I said, taking off the shirt and almost throwing it at him. I was naked, both of my breasts were exposed, I wasn’t ashamed anymore, I was mad. “Cover yourself, Y/n-ya.” He voiced and directed his gaze to the window. A few tears began to blur my vision, I felt used, I felt like I was nothing but a toy for him. 

I grabbed my clothes, put them on, and left the cabin slamming the door. Outside the sun was shining, the forest showed the aftermath of the blizzard, the level of the snow was considerably higher than yesterday and a cold, almost icy breeze played around with some sections of my hair. I started walking, I needed to be alone. 

“Y/n-ya where are you going?” I heard Law calling me from behind, but instead of turning back at him I kept on walking. “Y/n-ya!”. I decided to ignore him. I was so mad, so hurt I didn’t even know what to say to him.  

“Room… Shambles!” I heard and suddenly the log in front of me got changed for Law. “Where the hell are you going? the orphanage is the other way!” he said out of breath. “I’m not going there, I am not allowed to take a walk… “brother”?”, I articulated while a sting of sorrow hit my heart. 

“Stop it right there, Y/n-ya. What happened yesterday was nothing, ok? let’s forget about it.” he said, strongly. 

“Forget about it? Are you kidding me? You basically used me… I’m your best friend!... why did you....”, I suddenly stopped, I realized that despite him acting like this, I wanted that. I was guilty, too. He was my best friend… and what we did, probably will change our relationship, forever. 

Tears started flowing from my eyes. I wanted him to hug me, to comfort me, to wipe my eyes as he has always done. But this time, he didn’t. Instead he started walking away, turning his back to me. 

I stayed right there a few minutes, after falling into my knees on the cold snowy ground, while I saw him zooming off from my vision, expressing an inaudible, full of sorrow, “Law”. Holding the necklace with one of my hands, so hard it almost hurt my skin. 

Why does it hurt so much?, is it because he had wounded my pride? Or because I felt guilty?.... It's none of that.. All of a sudden it strikes me that I was in love with him. I’ve always been. And I repressed the feelings so many years convincing myself it was just fraternal love, for the sake of the relation and the crew. The shock produced by this whole situation made me realize I can’t restrain my feelings anymore…

I started walking back to the cabin, the cold breeze was almost crystallizing the tears over my cheeks. The icy wind, the immensity, the loneliness of the mountain scenery was the perfect metaphor for what I was feeling right now. I’ve always felt safe, protected knowing Law was at my side, but now… it’s probably over, I felt alone, for the very first time in ages. 

I could only hear the sound of the snow under my feet with every step I took mixed with me sobbing, thinking If I should leave the crew… Will I be able to handle loving him, yet treat him as a brother?, or even maybe just a crewmate? 

When I got to the cabin, Law was waiting outside, crestfallen and probably upset. I decided to ignore him and entered the place where a few hours away our bodies merged as one. Grabbed my bags with the sweaters I had bought yesterday and headed out. 

We walked to the orphanage, no talking, not even looking at each other. 

A few kids hugged me, and that type of pure love somehow warmed my heart a little bit. While Law was giving the nurses some more indications to follow for the treatment, Sister Alley noticed my red eyes and nose and asked, “You seemed so happy this morning, are you ok? Have you been crying?”. I couldn’t help but tell her -half of- the story. I trusted her, somehow she reminded me of the noon Law always remembers from Flevance. “Calm down, darling, give time to time. I’ve seen how he looks at you. Even if he says no, his eyes show different. I’m sure he feels the same way as you. Be calm and you will see”. Calm… ha, my favorite power from my devil fruit, I thought. 

I thanked her for the advice, hugged her and asked Gerald to take us to the city center   

During the whole ride I remained silent, choking back tears, and repeating the noon words over and over. “I’ve seen how he looks at you”, how does he look at me?... 

Law was calm as usual and exchanged a few words with our driver until we got to our destination. 

“Thank you so much doctors for all of your help, I hope to see you again someday. We will be happy to have you here in better conditions”. “Thanks for your hospitality, and send my regards to your wife, I hope she gets better!” I said, waving at him goodbye. 

We started walking downtown heading to where the Polar Tang and the rest of the crew was waiting for us. “Oi, Y/n-ya…”, my “best friend” said grabbing my wrist. 

I violently moved my arm for him to release me. I expressed coldly “Don’t worry, I’m not saying anything, forget about it”. 

Bepo was on the port waving at us, yelling our names. I don’t know why but I ran directly to him, hugged the big polar bear and sunk my head on his soft belly. “Aya aya, Y/N! you missed me I see. Well, have some garchu!. I missed you and captain too!”. 

We boarded the yellow submarine and I headed directly to my room. I jumped into bed and cried my eyes out. 

The day passed, and I didn’t get out of the room during the whole day. I excused myself, stating I was tired of the hard work we did with the sick children of the island. 

The night came and my stomach was growling from hunger. Yet, I didn’t want to face anyone, especially Law. But suddenly, someone knocked on my door. "Y/n-ya, you have to eat, open please I bought you some food". Said Law, from the other side of the door. “I don't want it, I’m not hungry”, I lied. “Don’t be such a whimsical baby, open the door.”, he ordered me. “I’m not opening, GO AWAY”, I expressed this time shouting, to which he replied, “I’m still your captain, open the door right now”. Bastard… I opened the door with the worst of the attitudes. He entered my room with a plate in his hands and sat on my bed. 

“Stop acting like this, Y/n-ya. You don’t see the problem? We’ve been like brothers and sisters for more than half of our lives. What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened. It's just… It’s not ok. You, you are my little sister…” He yelled at me with a cracking voice. “We are not siblings, Law. Sure, you are my family, but we are not brother and sister. Why don’t you see? We have no blood ties. We have kissed before, you even told me yesterday how much time you’ve been wanting to fuck me…” I made a pause, and even If I wouldn’t want to say it, my mouth didn’t hold back... “I love you, that’s it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle this, I LOVE YOU”.

Law gasped, widening his eyes. We looked at each other. His eyes said, “me too”, but his mouth expressed words that stuck into my heart as arrows… “I don’t love you, I wanted sex, ok? that's it. I was horny”.

A single teardrop fell from my eyes and while it ran through my cheek I said, “Law, I’m leaving the crew” ... 

Chapter 4

#trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #onepiece #torao #lawnsfw

[hoekageyama]

cmfrt

yaku morisuke x reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, uhhhh grey sweatpants (ik im sorry ew)

wc: ~3k

a/n: hi hi! this is my first piece, so pls go easy on me ._. this started off as something fluffy bc my desire for yaku content is thru the roof (as it should be), but ofc i got off the rails and went the soft smut route lmao oops. anyway, i hope u enjoy! 

~ also! please don’t consume this content if you are not of age, thnx <3 ~

You and Yaku had been best friends for years. Having gone to the same middle school and practically being next door neighbors. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time together; you two were pretty much attached at the hip. So when Yaku told you that he’d also be going to Nekoma for high school, you were pretty excited but not really surprised. 

Throughout high school, the two of you spent as much time together as possible, proving to be difficult at times with every ounce of Yaku’s free time being devoured by volleyball and the endless amounts of studying that was required for prepping for uni. All that aside, the two of you always found time for each other. Whether it be little lunch dates on the weekends, small study sessions in the library, or even facetime hangouts when you were both exhausted and too lazy to actually meet up face to face.

It felt like any other Friday when you and Yaku met up in the early morning to walk to school together. “Y/n, did you finish that history report yet? I’m almost done, but I need someone to review it so I don’t look like an idiot when I present on it.” Yaku ran a hand through his light brown hair and looked over to your slightly shorter form.

You turn to Yaku, noticing how his cheeks were slightly flushed due to the cold wind blowing directly in your faces. “Just about. I just need to finish my conclusion, but it shouldn’t take me too long to power through it. Also, yeah, I can take a look at it. No worries.” You turn away after answering the boy, and continue on your walk, thinking that was the end of that conversation. You can feel his gaze on you suddenly, leaving your cheeks to tint to that familiar shade of red. “Thanks. Also… are you free tonight?” he asks with slight notes of hesitation in his voice. You glance at him through the side of your eye noticing his fidgeting hands. “Yea, I’m free. What’s up?”

Without looking at you or answering, he slows his pace until he’s stopped. Standing and gazing out at the trees that lined the roads, watching as the Maple leaves are shed from their branches, showing the first true signs of winter. You stop alongside him and nudge him slightly with your elbow, “Why’d you ask so suddenly, Mori? Something up?”

He jumps slightly being pulled from his thoughts. He glances over at you, “Oh, uh, no reason really. I was just wondering if you’d wanna come over tonight to study and hangout. We can chill and watch movies like the old times. I have the house to myself and all so…” When you see his raised eyebrow and sly smirk grace his features, you feel your face heat up slightly.

You turn to him giggling, “Oooooh, Mori! I didn’t know you could be such a flirt!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and forces you to start walking again. “If that’s what you call flirting, then the guys you talk to must be braindead.” He pulls you a little closer into his chest, laughing along with you now. You nuzzle your head into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, “Of course I’ll come. As long as you treat me to some takeout tonight.” He nods and smiles, looking at your slightly smaller form clinging to his for warmth. “Deal. We can stop by the store on our walk home, and I’ll get you whatever ya want.” You only nod in agreement, leaving the two of you to walk the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.

As the day moved on, you found yourself getting a bit anxious for your hangout with your best friend. It’s not like you haven’t slept over at his house before. In fact, you and Yaku practically slept at each other’s houses every weekend for as long as you can remember. But what was so different now? Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s because now you were painfully aware of your burning crush on the mighty libero. 

The final bell signaling the day’s end rings as you make your way through the double doors of Nekoma. Making your way towards the gym, you see Kuroo and Kai standing by the entrance chatting. “Yo Tets! Kai! You guys seen Mori anywhere?” The two both wave in greeting as you move closer to the duo. “Yea, I think he’s getting changed right now. Should be out in a bit.” Kai states. “You two still aren’t dating yet? You guys act like you're married already.” says Kuroo, rustling your hair. “Oh shut uuuuup already.” you hear Yaku groan from inside the gym. “You’re so worried about our relationship when you can barely hold a conversation with a girl without looking like a nerd.” Yaku scoffs, punching Kuroo’s arm. 

The four of you eventually split off into your own groups, making your way home for the weekend. The walk home doesn’t take very long. It’s filled with Yaku telling you about Kuroo’s horrible chemistry pickup lines and complaining about the test you both had coming up. Midway through, you both stopped at the store, picking out ample snacks for your movie night and some dinner for later.

Upon finally trudging through the icy winds, you arrive at Yaku’s house. He unlocks the door, but steps aside to let you in first. “What a gentleman!” you say jokingly as he laughs from your reaction. You slide your shoes off at the door and make a beeline straight for Yaku’s bedroom, plastic bag filled with goodies in hand. Yaku lets out a happy sigh and soon follows suit. 

Once in Yaku’s room, you lie face down on his bed groaning. “What’s wrong now, princess?” he asks as he closes the door. Plopping down on the bed next to you with two juice pouches already in hand he nudges you gently to sit up. “I completely forgot to stop by my house to pick up clothes for tonight. All I have in my bag are gym clothes.” you sigh in exasperation as you take the pouch from his cold hands.

“Oh stop. You know you can always just use some of my clothes.” he shrugs while taking a sip of his juice. “I mean.. You’ve done it before. It’s not that big of a deal. I- if you’re ok with it, that is.” he says looking over to you, waiting for your response. You nod in response moving to lie in his lap.

If you didn’t know Yaku well enough, you wouldn’t have noticed the way he tenses slightly, ears the tiniest bit redder than they were moments ago braving the cold of the outside world. “Well then, get me something comfy because I need to get out of this skirt asap!” you say brushing down the edges of your skirt, putting them into place. “I’ll say..” he mumbles. You barely heard it, but it makes your cheeks grow a little red.

After you both finish your drink, you see him disappear into his closet only to emerge moments later with two sets of clothes in hand. He tosses a black t-shirt and a pair of red shorts to you on the bed. Both of which, landing right on top of your face. “I’ll go shower up first since I don’t take ages like some people.” he says with a smirk as he reaches the door.

You giggle hearing his mocking tone “Ok that was one time! And to be fair, it was all your fault. My hair smelled like Yakuult for days after!” He blushes slightly remembering the incident, but chooses to only shake his head laughing to himself as he continues his pursuit for the bathroom.

You lie in his bed scrolling through some app on your phone when you hear the door open. Yaku returns, toweling off his lightly dampened hair, clad in just a pair of grey sweatpants that seem to barely hand onto his waist. You feel your thighs press together tightly as he throws a hoodie on, turning to see your flustered state. “What? Am I too hot for ya?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh shut up!” you groan, rushing passed him and right out the door. You quickly hop into the shower once in the bathroom to cool off your burning cheeks, praying that you can keep it together for the rest of the night. 

Soon enough, you’re all dry, dressed, and heading for Yaku’s room. As you close the door, you see Yaku sitting at his desk running his fingers through his hair. Yaku had been working on his history paper while you were in the shower, and it seems he isn’t making much progress. You grab your back and move to sit by him, brushing against his leg with your own on the way down. He feels a shiver rush down his spine at the sudden delicate touch. “You ok, Mor?” you ask when you see him nodding profusely in response. “Yeah just can’t get this paper done. It’s like my mind is racing, but I can’t focus.” You rub his back and lean over to view his paper in front of him. The way you’re positioned isn’t helping Yaku’s brain one bit. 

Yaku places a hand on your lower back, ogling at the way your back arches naturally reacting to his touch. He smooths out the back of your shirt, admiring the swell of your ass. He flushes a bit, feeling a dull throb and a tightness beginning to form in his sweatpants, when he notices how short you made the shorts after rolling the waistband up a few times to ensure they’d fit. 

You subconsciously rub your thighs together a little while reading through his history report. You hoped that Yaku wouldn’t notice, but unlucky for you he did. He continued rubbing your back, slightly lowering his hand little by little until you felt his rough hand caress your ass. You turned around to look at him, but were met with eyes glazed over in lust. “Hey Mor, you ok?” you ask confused. “I’m fine, baby. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” he says as he drops his hand into his lap in an attempt to conceal the bulge that began growing in his sweats. You shake your head giggling, moving back to your original position next to him. “Nah it’s all good, babe. Just…” you lose all train of thought you possibly had when you glance down and notice the outline of something in his sweatpants. “Hey, y/n, listen. I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I- I just think you look really good in my clothes…. Sorry.” he quickly spits out. 

He began shuffling to get up from you when you reach out and clamp a hand around his wrist. “Why are you apologizing, babe? I should probably be the one apologizing. Especially when you’ve made me like this.” you say bashfully, leading his hand to the wet spot that was now visible in the red shorts you wore. He groaned upon feeling the dampness. “What’s all this, princess? Why so wet already?” he coos into your ear, continuing to rub his rough hands against your clothed core. 

After building up the courage to get this far, you threw all caution to the wind. “You, Mori. Fuck! I want you to touch me, please.” you let out a little moan as you palmed him through his sweats. You could tell just how hard he was through his pants. “Fuck, baby, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please let me fuck you.” he groans when you press a little harder onto his hardened cock.

Everything that happened next was a blur. Lips smashed together, tongues dancing, teeth clashing every now and then. You finally part lips, gasping for air as he tugs his hoodie off over his head. You follow suit, removing your shirt and shorts, leaving you standing nearly bare in between his legs as he lounged in his desk chair. 

His eyes never leave yours as he unhooks your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor with a thud. His hands smooth over your breasts, rolling and pinching a nipple in between the rough pads of his fingers. He places open mouthed kisses from your jawline down to the swell of your breasts. Leaning back to take in the view once more he groans, saying, “You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these from me all this time.” you only moan as he moves in to nip at one of your pert nipples. Your hands immediately reach for his light brown locks and begin to tug in response to the stimulation. 

His hands move to your lower body pulling off your lace underwear until they drop to the floor. You kick them aside before he grips your hips tightly. “Mo- Mori please, let me ride your cock.” you say through moans as he lightly trails a finger through your soaked folds. He removes his mouth from your chest with a lewd popping sound. He stands up to pull his sweats lower and sits back down in his seat. You take a moment to ogle at the sight before you. His cock, painfully hard, dripping precum from the swollen head. You grab his shoulders and move in to kiss him as his grip returns to your hips. 

He hoists you up onto his lap, making you straddle the length in his lap. When your wet core makes contact with the length below you, you let out a lewd moan and grind in his lap. He hisses at the contact and tightens his grip on you to stop you from moving. “Patience, princess.” he groans out as you finally stop your ministrations. He lifts you slightly, aligning himself with your hole before looking up to you for approval. You simply nod your head and lower yourself onto his cock little by little. It isn’t too above average in length, but damn did he make up for it in girth. 

You both hiss at the feeling of him being sheathed completely inside your tight cunt, neither of you moving to allow for you both to regain some composure. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight!” he groans, “Just let me know when you want to start moving.” You only nod your head, savoring the delicious stretch in your core. 

As soon as you regain your bearings, you look up to him with glazed eyes, “Mori, mo- move please.” He attaches your mouth to his and gently lifts you, gripping your ass tightly. Before long, he let you take control. The pace you set is slow at first while you kiss him tenderly, running a hand through his hair, tugging gently every so often. His cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you, causing you to erupt in another lewd moan of his name. You feel him twitch inside you, he speeds up the pace a bit bringing your ass down harder each time he lifts you. 

Before long you feel that familiar heat in your core building inside you. “Ah fuck, I’m c- close” you moan out as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. The sound of his balls slapping your ass is nearly enough to set you off, but when he reaches a hand down to place sloppy circles around your clit. The coil of heat building up finally snaps, and you’re thrown head first into the bliss of ecstasy.

Yaku groans feeling you tighten around his length. He continues fucking you through your high, and his pace begins to get sloppy before he pulls out frantically. Before he can ask you, you get on your knees in front of him and take him into your mouth. He hisses at the feeling of your tongue gliding over his swollen head and throws his head back in pleasure. With one hand in your hair, he pulls you lower onto his cock as he bursts ribbons of heat down the back of your throat. 

After removing himself from your mouth and tucking himself back into his sweats, he pulls you back into his lap. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, holding you tightly in his arms. “Mori, I’m cooooooold.” you whine into his shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, huh?”

He moves you onto his bed and quickly disappears to the bathroom. You see him return with a damp washcloth and a cup of water in hand. You let him clean you off as you look around the room for your clothes. “I’ll get you some new clothes ok? Just relax and drink your water while I put these washing.” he says, motioning to the pile of clothes on the floor. He hands you some garments and you quickly get dressed as he moves about the house.

He later returns, only to see you waiting for him with the takeout you had gotten earlier. He plops down beside on the bed for the second time tonight and pulls you into a hasty kiss. “You’re mine, right? I love you so much. I’ve dreamt of this for years. Please stay with me.” he says as he looks deep into your e/c eyes, while cupping your cheeks with his hands. “How can I say no?” you giggle, smashing your lips into his once more before chowing down on your takeout meals. The rest of the night is spent with the two of you cuddled up watching terrible rom-coms. The history report, long forgotten. That can wait for tomorrow.

- again, i’m so sorry at how trashy this is written lmaodfadfj 

- if u did read it tho, tysm! ily & maybe send me some suggestions on what to write next. i’m down for whatever rlly. i’m trying to write more often so this is kinda just a warm up for now.

#yaku #yaku morisuke #yaku x yn #yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #yaku morisuke x yn #yaku smut #yaku morisuke smut #all these tags make my head hurt #hoekageyama #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x yn #yaku.txt #hq.txt #hq_xx.txt #maddlibs

[inseongsfoxybae]

Do you want me?

Pairing: Boyfriend Dawon + Female Reader; established relationship

Genre: Smut + Fluff ending

Warnings: Hard dom!Dawon, jealousy, dirty talk/cursing, exhibicionism(?), unprotected sex (reader’s on birth control), orgasm denial, a bit of fingering, some slapping, creampie + after care

Words: +2k

Requested by @dawon-kun​: Hello, since you LOVE to attack us all, could make either a Dawonie jealous smut or a SF9 reaction when their gf tries to dom them and successfully?🥵🥵🥵

Author’s message: Hey, babe! Your request is finally out and I hope you like it as much as I enjoy working on it. I show here Dawon’s roughness and his insecurity about losing his girl for another men. Our sweet cutie pie TT. Well, this is it! Foxy kisses  😘

P.S: As english is not my mother language, it may contain misspelled. Also, sorry for any other mistakes :)

Synopsis: Dawon gets jealous after your best guy friend tease him during a dinner, but you are the one punished by him when you got home. 

this gif *holy shit*

Some of your friends were on vacation in Korea and took the opportunity to spend some time with you and reminisce about the old good times. As your Dawon was always busy with his schedules and practices, he couldn’t join you but he never complained about you meeting your friends and enjoying your time alone with them - even though you didn’t do video calls with him because of that. 

On a weekend when Dawon was free, he finally went out with all of you. You chose a more discreet place since your boyfriend was an idol and you wanted some privacy, and picked a cozy restaurant near your shared apartment. After all the greetings, you sat down between Dawon and your best guy friend, who had a crush on you during high school and was rejected all the times he confessed his feelings. 

Of course, he’d take this opportunity to tease you in front of your boyfriend, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and saying that you never dated him because he wasn’t an idol. “I’m not famous and don’t have this pretty baby face of yours, dude. That’s right she’s not my girl”, he spat at some point of the conversation, pulling you closer to him as Dawon locked eyes with him, a dark expression there. 

Dawon was quieter than normal, rejected all the drinks offered and barely talked. “You okay, jagi?”, you whispered when your friend shut his mouth for a second. “I’m fine, just tired”, he forced a smile and shrugged you off. You nodded and got back to your happy chat with that annoying guy. At this point, your friend stopped teasing Dawon directly, but he was still too close to you, telling stupid jokes that made you laugh like an idiot. Your boyfriend was surely getting done with all this shit. 

He could bear that for half an hour, but it seemed like an eternity for him. Suddenly, Dawon got up from his seat next to you, purposefully hitting the table to catch your eyes again. “It’s time to go, Y/N”, he said seriously, his dark expression meeting your startled one. “It’s still so early, dude. Stay a little longer”, your guy friend intruded. Dawon just ignored him and grabbed your hand, pulling you up. “We must go now. It’s on me tonight”, Dawon spat off and dragged you out the table. 

“Dawon, what are you doing?”, you whined behind him while he paid the bill. 

“I can’t deal with that idiot anymore”, he simply answered, his voice low and deep. 

“Hyukie, why are you like this? I told them you were cool”, you sulked and he only glanced at your pout. 

“Are you coming with me or not?”, he questioned without looking at you. 

“At least, lemme say goodbye”, you whimpered, holding onto his arm. 

“Now, Y/N”, he commanded, staring down at you. 

Seeing how serious he was, you just nodded and left with him. You walked home without exchanging a single word, Dawon’s eyes locked on the way ahead, you followed right behind him with your head down. Arriving in your apartment, he went straight to your bedroom, leaving you aback in the hallway. 

“Baby, talk to me”, you pleaded to him while entering your room, watching him take off his clothes. 

“I’m gonna shower. Wanna join me?”, he suggested still not looking at you. 

But before you could say anything, your phone rang and you paused before answering. “It’s him”, you murmured and Dawon automatically understood who they were. 

“Answer”, he said, approaching you and snaking his hands around your waist. Dawon pressed your body against his and waited for you to answer. He was only on his boxers at this point, so you felt a little nervous, but didn’t say anything. 

“Hey”, you talked on the phone, startling when you felt Dawon’s hands run over your belly and hips.

“Keep talking”, he whispered in your free ear, his fingers now unzipping your dress and sliding it down your body, exposing your underwear.

You turned your head to look at him, meeting his angry eyes, a sparkle of desire lighting his pupils. He unclasped your bra and slowly started to massage your breasts, pinching your already hard nipples between his fingers.

“Let’s show him who you belong to”, he growled against the skin of your neck, kissing and biting your sweet spots as his hands went down your panties, rubbing your clothed core. 

You struggled to keep your gasps and moans as a minimum throughout the phone, but it was proving to be more difficult with every single touch Dawon ministrated on your body. He pulled you closer to him and you felt his bulge against your butt, a loud moan daring to get out of your throat. 

“Y/N, are you okay?”, your friend asked on the other side of the call. 

“Keep talking”, Dawon groaned while biting a good portion of your shoulder, his hard dick now grinding against you. 

“Yeah, I just hit my pinky on a corner”, you breathed on the phone, trying to supress your growing moans. Behind you, you heard Dawon discarding his boxers away, your panties following right after. He grabbed your hips and led you to bed, forcing you forward. 

“Bend over, baby girl”, he growled before slapping the cheeks of your butt. “Head down, ass up”, Dawon instructed and you obeyed, sinful thoughts running through your mind now. “Put on the speakerphone”, he commanded and your shaking hands did the job.

Dawon slid his dick between your dripping folds, gruning at your wetness, before pushing his length fully into your pussy. Neither of you couldn’t hold your moans and you couldn’t pretend anymore, your friend surely knew what was really going on now. 

“Y/N, are you fucking righ now?”, he questioned in disbelief. 

“Yeah”, Dawon was the one who talked. “Looks like the idol with a pretty baby face is fucking his girl right now”, he groaned, picking up a fast pace against your hole. “If you don’t mind, hang up the phone and let me ruin my baby in peace”, he reached for your phone and turned it off, tossing it somewhere in your bedroom. 

“Now, it’s only the two of us, princess”, Dawon growled pulling your hair mercilessly. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk properly for one week. Is it okay for you?”, he inquired. 

“Yes, daddy”, you weakly mewling as his hands wrapped loosely around your neck, thrusting deeper into your hole. Your head was getting light and your vision blurred as your orgasm was near. 

Dawon felt you clenching around him, your walls tighten as legs shaking, and suddenly stopped his moves, slipping out of you. You whined at the sudden loss of friction and fullness and heard Dawon chuckling behind you. 

“Do you think you’ll get it so easily after treating me so bad tonight?”, he whispered in your ear. “Do you think I’ll let you cum this fast after ignoring me for the whole week?”, he slapped your butt again, before inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you squirm and gasp, feeling you clench around his index. 

“Look at you. So desperate for me”, Dawon teased pushing in and out, curling his finger and reaching your g-spot. You moan his name and he took it off, hurt whimpers falling from your mouth. He gave you a devil laugh and pushed you into the mattress, so now you were lying on your stomach. 

You felt him climb on bed and set himself on your entrance again, slamming into you in one go, his name echoing in the room. His pace was rough since the beginning, his balls spanking your pussy harshly, muffled moans into the mattress, fists grabbing the sheets helplessly. 

As the knot in your stomach was getting tighter and about to explode over you, walls clenching desperately around Dawon’s dick, he slowed down his thrusts again until a halt. His breath was heavier now as he was getting lost in his pleasure as well. 

“Lee Sanghyuk”, you whined, reaching for his hand behind you. “Please, let me cum”, you begged.

“Lee Sanghyuk?”, Dawon’s tone was low and dark.

“Daddy… please, daddy”, you were almost crying, trying to pinch your legs together for any type of friction. 

“On your back, princess”, Dawon chuckled, watching you quickly turn around, both of your eyes meeting automatically. He leaned closer to you, staring at your lips for a brief moment before locking your gazes again. “Do you want me?”, his hot breath fanned on your face. 

“So badly”, you confessed, hands rubbing up and down his back. 

“Do you really want me? I mean, among all of them, all the men in the world?”, Dawon’s eyes soften. 

“Of course I do! You’re my bae, my only one”, you reassured him, pecking his lips softly. 

Dawon smiled against your lips before collecting them for a passionate breathtaking kiss, a low “I love you” fell from his mouth. 

“I love you too”, you whispered when you parted, just before he changed positions and pulled you on top of him. 

“Straddle me”, Dawon was begging for you with his best puppy eyes and of course you wouldn’t say no to your man. You put your legs on either side of his hips and easily slid his dick inside you, loud moans breaking through your throats. 

Dawon pulled you closer to his chest and digged his heels on the mattress, wasting no time to thrust deeply upwards, filling you completely, hitting all the right spots instantaneously. Your creamy pussy made his work easier, both of your wetness making everything better. 

“So good, princess… You take me so well”, Dawon hissed into your mouth, setting a harsher pace. 

“This is so good, Sanghyukie”, you moaned, your hips meeting his thrusts. “Deeper”, you cried out as he granted your wish, his length stretching your tight walls perfectly. 

“I’m so close, babe”, he breathed between gritted teeth. 

“Me too…”, you gasped before screaming his name when he hit the perfect angle inside you. “I’m gonna cum”, you yelled as your walls constricted around him and your waters washed over you. 

Dawon smiled at you while his face contorted in pleasure. “Will you let me cum inside?”, he moaned as his dick twitched inside of you. 

“Cum for me, baby”, you whispered and he came undone, his warm seed painting your walls in white, “fuck’s” and groans filling your room. 

Dawon slowly pulled out, your fluids slipping from your swollen pussy and going down your inner thighs as you sat on top of him. You locked your eyes with his and smiled, bringing your hands up to cup his cute pink cheeks. 

“I love you, Sanghyukie… so bad. Please, never doubt this”, you begged, putting your foreheads together. “I’m only yours”, you whispered before kissing him gently. 

His strong arms snaked around you, pressing your body into his, kissing you back. “I’m so sorry, bae”, he mumbled softly against your lips. “I treated you badly tonight and didn’t trust in your feelings completely”, he sighed. “I’m sorry about this”. 

In responde, you removed some locks of his hair from his eyes and kissed him again, deeper this time. “It’s okay”, you calmly answered. “Just promise you’ll never do this again, huh? Never doubt again, okay?”, you watched him nodding. 

“I promise”, his hand reached for your hair to tug some strands behind your ear. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know it, right?”. 

“I know”, you smiled down at him. “I love you too and I want you in my life forever”. 

“I want you too”, Dawon grinned before pulling off of him and getting up. “Can you walk?”, he shyly asked, knowing the damage he was used to cause to you. 

“I don’t think so”, you chuckled, extending your arms for him. Dawon took you in his arms and carefully led you to the bathroom, helping you to clean up.

Now, wearing some few clothes and lying on your comfy blankets, both of you cuddled and closed your eyes, just enjoying each other’s heartbeats and steady breaths, soft “I love you’s” whispered before you two feel asleep.

#kpop writings #kpop imagines #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 smut #sf9 dawon #dawon-kun #request

[yellowsuitcase]

Betwixt; Draco Malfoy: Chapter - The Job

Introduction(please read!)

First and foremost, warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter, but as a forewarning this story will contain mentions of sexual assault as well as swearing/strong language, and smut.

There are some characters in this story that are mine, however, the majority of them are based off of characters in JK Rowling's Harry Potter series. I do not support JK Rowling.

This is a Royalty AU, magic as seen in the Harry Potter series does not exist within this universe.

This series is also being posted on Wattpad @Tonix27 and it is currently In progress / Completed

I plan to create a Spotify playlist for this story, when I do it'll be posted in my masterlist for Betwixt.

Cover and Beta work by @10amnoodles​ on Instagram and Twitch

Please do not repost. There are trends on Tik Tok of people taking sections of writing from their favorite fanfics and posting them, I do not want this done with my work. However, you may post a screenshot of the fanfic's cover with the summary.

A/N: First chapter of the series I’ve been working on! I’m so excited for you guys to read this!!!!

Summary: To make ends meet after her mother's death, Y/N, a young mom, living within the kingdom of Sithrawl, lands a job at the castle working for the Royal Family, specifically for the prince, Draco Malfoy. What starts as a way to make money for her son quickly turns into an unexpected romance between her and the prince. Y/N soon finds herself stuck between her responsibilities as a mother and her longing for  love and adventure

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 5.9k

Credits: @10amnoodles​ Check her out! her artwork is incredible and this series wouldn’t be happening without her :)

Directory

I shut the rickety door and leaned against it, the weight of my body keeping it closed. A deep sigh left my lips, and I relaxed my shoulders, finally feeling safe. It was silent in my home. Jasper must be asleep. I pushed myself off the door and crept around the corner. The wall was cold to the touch, and I was surprised to feel an indent underneath my fingertips. I pulled my hand away to see a long crack embedded in the plaster. There were already so many in this damn house, not to mention the little holes in the roofing and the lack of insulation. It was getting colder every day.

Sighing to myself, I made a mental note of the new damage and peeked into the bedroom. There he was, his dirty blonde hair cast over his eyes as he slept. I put my hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, waking him up. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. Upon seeing me, he jumped up. “Mummy!” he said excitedly. My heart swelled as I took my boy into my arms and hoisted him onto my hip. 

“How are you, my love? Hungry?” I ask. He nodded eagerly. I chuckled lightly at his toothy grin. He was always hungry, but weren’t all six-year-olds? Luckily for him, I managed to get some bread for free down at the market. Mrs. Weasley, the kind woman at the bakery, has been sneaking me food for the past two weeks. And although I was grateful for it, I was also ashamed. I would’ve been able to pay for her tasty treats, but my family’s funds had been stretching thinner and thinner ever since my mother passed. 

She died on the first of October, just as the cold was setting in. It wasn’t sudden; she’d been sick for a month or so before finally laying to rest. I had tried to take up her old job. She worked as a maid for a relatively wealthy family, the Greengrass’. However, when I knocked upon their door, a middle-aged woman dressed in my mother’s old uniform answered. That had told me everything I needed to know. Since then, I’ve been scouring the village for potential work. I’d managed to get a few odd jobs here and there, but nothing long term, and I needed to feed my boy. 

“What did you get today, Mum?” Jasper questioned. I turned to him and kissed his forehead. 

“Just some bread. Is that alright?” I asked hopefully. He’d never been the type of kid to complain, but I knew that, as he grew, so did his appetite. Bread was quickly becoming dull. Sooner or later, he’d voice his distaste for it. To my surprise, Jasper smiled and squeezed his arms around my neck, giving me a tight hug. “Yep!” he replied cheerfully. My anxiety quickly faded away. I kissed his cheek and sat him down at the table. 

“Did you do anything fun today?” I asked as I began slicing the loaf. Jasper hummed, thinking to himself. 

“I pretended to be a cow!” he declared, looking proud of himself. Jasper had always been quite the fan of cows. His favorite activity was trotting around the house, mooing. In my opinion, it was the cutest thing ever, but I may be a bit biased. 

“Did you? And how did you do that?” I asked, eyebrows raised. Jasper smirked and puffed out his chest. “I ate grass!” he announced loudly. I shook my head in bewilderment. “You ate grass?” Jasper nodded proudly. “Yup! And look,” he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a bundle of green grass, dumping it onto the table. “I saved some for you,” he finished, pushing the greenery towards me. I did my best to hide my grimace and gently placed his plate of bread in front of him. “That’s...wonderful, uhm, sweetheart, it’s not good to eat grass. You could get sick,” I said quietly, trying to deliver this news gently. A frown appeared on Jasper’s face, and he dropped his head, his eyes now staring at his lap. 

“Oh, Jas, it’s alright. I know you were only playing, but humans can’t eat grass,” I said while taking my own seat at the table. He reluctantly looked up, his pouty lips on full display. “Come on, love, eat some of your bread. The sun is going down, and I don’t like washing dishes in the dark,” I spoke sternly, trying to get him to eat. He sighed but picked up his bread and shoved it in his mouth. I made sure he didn’t choke since he had a tendency to take bigger bites than he should. I gnawed on my own piece.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was nearly nightfall. Who would be at the door at this time? I quickly got to my feet as the person knocked again. “Who’s that, Mum?” Jasper asked, his mouth full of bread. “Finish your bite before speaking, Jas. And I don’t know, let’s find out.” I approached the door, brushed off my dress, and turned the knob. Standing outside was Ron Weasley, the bakers’ youngest son. 

“Ron? Come in, come in. What’s going on?” I asked, a bit concerned he was here to tell me his parents wouldn’t be able to give me food anymore. The ginger-haired boy rushed past me and into my home and eagerly slapped a flyer onto the table. “Look,” he told me as he pointed to the parchment. I gave him a skeptical look but walked over to the table and picked it up. 

The Malfoy family is seeking a servant to the young prince. If interested, arrive at the castle at dawn on the 19th of October.

SALARY: 4 galleons per hour

The person selected to be the Prince’s servant will furthermore reside in the castle.

As I took in the information on the flyer, Jasper took the parchment from my grasp. He held it out in front of him and stared at it intently. I considered berating him for taking what doesn’t belong to him, but I chose not to, and instead, I turned to Ron, who had an enormous grin on his face. “Ron, you can’t be serious…”

“It’s perfect! It’s four galleons an hour, and if you’re working dawn till dusk, that’s roughly eleven hours. Forty-four galleons a day, Y/N. You can’t pass this up. You’d be mad not to at least try,” he told me. I wasn’t quite sold, “Yeah, that sounds like a dream, but what would I…” I paused and held my hand up to Ron, signaling him to give me a moment. Then I faced Jasper. “Darling, put your plate in the sink and go wash up; I’ll be there soon to get you ready for bed, alright?” I instructed him. His pouty lips returned. 

“But I wanna know what’s going on!” the boy insisted. He dropped the paper, crossed his arms over his chest, and promptly glared at me. I held back my laugh at his attempt at intimidation and put a hand on my hip. “Do as I say.” Jasper sighed but slid off his chair and trod off to the bathroom. I turned back to Ron. “If I live at the castle, how can I take care of Jasper? I can’t just leave him here alone; he’s only six, not to mention he’s ill,” I explained as I picked the parchment back up again. Ever since Jasper had turned four, he started having trouble breathing. There had been times where I was unsure if he’d survive through the night. Ron knew about this, but he wasn’t budging. “Y/N, the castle isn’t far. You could sneak out at dusk and spend the night with Jasper, no problem.”

“With all due respect, Ron, I don’t think it’ll be that easy. I’d have to get past people in the castle, the guards, and who knows who else?” I said, shaking my head. My eyes drifted to the flyer in my hand. A servant to the prince. What did that even mean? There was a serious lack of detail in the advertisement. My lip curled in distaste. The Royal Family was known to be quite the arrogant bunch. Malfoy, their surname, directly translates to ‘bad faith’. They didn’t treat their citizens well; nearly every town outside of Orton’s walls was neglected. Totbury, my town, especially.

Nevertheless, the Malfoy’s knew that, despite treating their people terribly, people would scramble for the chance to land this job. Simply based on the look of the family’s servants, they weren’t looking for people like me. If they found out where I live, they’ll surely dismiss me.

“Y/N, you’re underestimating yourself. That castle has numerous secret passageways, just find one of those, and you’re all set. And even if that doesn’t work, then you just make an excuse. Say the Prince himself sent you into the city, what are the guards going to say to that?” Ron argued. I threw him a look of confusion as I put the flyer down, my eyes lingering on the young prince. “How would you even know about secret passageways?” I asked. Ron cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t believe they exist?” he asked incredulously. I scoffed and walked over to the sink. 

“Ron, they’re only rumors. I’m sure they have a couple of lesser-known corridors, but not a secret passageway. That’s absurd,” I began rinsing off the plates and silverware, “And besides, I wouldn’t get chosen. Have you forgotten who I am? They’re not going to hire a peasant from Totbury, Ronald. I mean, have you seen the sheer amount of guards that line up around the Prince? They won’t let anyone touch him, so what makes you think they’d let me be his personal servant?” I asked, not really expecting a legitimate answer. However, it seemed as though Ron had all the answers that day. 

“That’s easy, just lie. Say you’re from Orton. The population is big enough that they wouldn’t know the difference. And it’s not like the King and Queen even leave the castle. I bet they couldn’t tell the difference between a Sithrawliean from a Perwenese,” Ron claimed. Perwen was the neighboring kingdom to Sithrawl.

“That may be true, but even if I lied, I don’t look the part. I’ve got maybe two dresses, and they both have holes in them. They’ll see right through me,” I pointed out yet another problem with Ron’s plan while I scrubbed the chipped plates in my sink. He remained silent for a moment but then snapped his fingers. 

“You’re about the same age as Ginny, aren’t you?” he asked, eyes looking hopeful. Indeed, I was around his sister’s age. I told him so, and he smiled. “Then you could borrow one of her dresses, in fact, I think Mum just bought her a new one!” he suggested excitedly. Once I put down the now clean plates, I dried my hands and spun around to face Ron. 

“I’m not taking Ginny’s new dress; that’s ridiculous,” I replied. Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but I interrupted him. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for Jasper and me, but I can’t...I can’t just lie to the Royal Family. And I don’t want to leave my son at home all day.” 

“But haven’t you already been doing that? You’ve been scouring the streets for weeks looking for a job. I just thought that maybe this would be a good—”

I cut him off, my patience lost. “Yes, well, you thought wrong! I’m not going off and living in a lavish castle while my child is all alone in this shithole. It’s unfair to him, and I’m not doing it. End of story.” 

Ron’s previously bright smile had faded into a regretful frown. He nodded his head and looked at the floor as if he was afraid to look me in the eye. I began to feel guilt seep into my stomach. He was only trying to help, and here I was giving him a hard time. Nice going, Y/N.

“You’re right. I’m sorry for suggesting it. I’ll just...get going, and don’t worry, I’ll tell Mum you say hello,” Ron said solemnly as he headed for the door. I held my tongue and walked him out, waving as he strode down the road. When I closed the door behind him, I let out a heavy sigh and ran my hands through my hair. There was no need for me to have acted like such a pain, but alas, the apology Ron deserves would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I need to care for my boy.

--------

{The next morning}

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I woke with a start, sitting straight up in my bed. My back was drenched with sweat, and my skin felt hotter than hell. I had no clue as to why I'd woken up in such a state, but I didn't have the energy to care. Slowly, as to not wake Jasper, I lifted the covers and slid out of our bed. As I got to my feet and walked into the kitchen, I noticed the sun wasn’t even up yet. I stepped closer to the window and peered out, looking for the town clock. When I spotted it, I saw that it was roughly half-past five. Dawn wasn’t until seven.

Exhausted, I rubbed my eyes lightly and turned around. There on the table was the flyer. I stepped towards it and lifted it up. “...arrive at the castle at dawn…” My head turned towards the window once again. If I got ready now, I could make it. But did I dare? I’d have to find someone to watch Jasper. Does Ron’s offer even stand now? I supposed there was only one way to find out. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly turned on the water in the bath. A slow stream trickled out of the spout. 

“Come on,” I whispered. As if the universe had heard me, the water pressure grew stronger, and the tub began to fill. Anxiously, I stripped my clothing and jumped inside, despite the lack of water. We always kept a wooden bowl by the bathtub, so I reached for it and dunked it under the faucet, letting it gather enough liquid before I dumped it onto my head. The temperature was less than ideal, but I made do, and within fifteen minutes, I was out of the bath and drying off.

Quickly, I threw on my dress, slipped on my shoes, and ran out the door, but not before kissing a sleeping Jasper goodbye. He’ll be okay, I assured myself. The Weasleys were luckily only a few blocks down, so I hustled down the street and up to their door. Yet, once I found myself on their cozy porch, I was unable to knock. My fist hovered above the wooden door, decorated with fresh winter flowers. It’s now or never, a voice in my head whispered. Somehow, I found my courage and rapped my knuckle against the firm wood.

After only a few moments, Mr. Weasley opened the door. “Y/N? What brings you here so early? Has something happened?” he asked initially. Then he saw my wet hair and my shivering frame. “Good heavens! Come inside, you’ll freeze,” he exclaimed, motioning for me to come towards him. I scampered in, and Mr. Weasley shut the door. I could tell he was bursting with questions, but I filled him in before he could speak. 

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I’m here because yesterday Ronald stopped by and told me the Royal Family was looking for a servant. And well, at first, I wasn’t going to apply for it, but now...now I wish to,” I spoke softly. The man stood tall as he processed this information. 

“Well, that sounds grand. But if I may, why are you here?” he questioned. Before I could tell him, Ron entered the foyer from around the corner. “Y/N? You’re here, have you changed your mind?” he asked, his voice sounding hopeful. With a bit of lingering hesitation, I nodded my head. “I have.”

Ron smiled brightly. “Brilliant, wait here,” he instructed before he headed into a different room, leaving his father and me by the door. Soon enough, however, he emerged with a green and white dress. It was paired with a leather brown underbust corset. Although simple, it was perfect. “That’s beautiful, wow. Are you sure about this?” I checked with Ron. He nodded and motioned behind him. 

“Ginny’s awake; she’ll help you into it,” he told me. Right on cue, a sweet young girl with long red hair strolled into the foyer. She waved at me softly, and I waved back. 

“Splendid, off you go then. Ginny, find her a towel to dry her hair, won’t you?” Mr. Weasley asked his daughter. She nodded, took me by the hand, and dragged me into what I assumed was her room. The Weasley’s home looked bigger than the rest in Totbury, but I never suspected that one of their children would have their own bedroom. I was led to the center of Ginny’s room. She shut the door and quickly began helping me out of my day dress. 

“Are you nervous?” she asked immediately. Her inquiry caught me off guard and reminded me of the butterflies in my tummy. I scrambled for an answer as she wrapped my hair in a dark brown towel.

“Of course, I am. I’m leaving my son alone all day,” I told her finally. Ginny smiled softly as she laid my dress on her bed, leaving me in my undergarments. She knew I had dodged her question but didn’t mention it.

“We can have him stay with us today if you want. It’s really no problem,” Ginny offered. This wasn’t the first time the Weasley’s had said they could watch Jasper. While it was very kind of them, I never took them up on it; I couldn’t. My mother never gave me over to another family when she went to work. She would always tell me, “Don’t go outside. I’ll return before nightfall.” And that was that. I stayed put and waited for her to come home. Sure, it was a lonely childhood, but she did what she had to do to provide for me. Now, I wanted to do that for my own child, but it was becoming clearer to me that I wouldn’t be able to do things like my mother. If I get the job, I’ll be in the castle, I won’t be able to come running if something happens. Deep down, I knew the safest option for my boy was to let him stay with the Weasleys.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Ginny smiled and nodded her head. “Of course. He’ll be safe and sound while you do what you need to do.” I gnawed on my lip as she slipped the dress over my head and onto my body. 

“I really appreciate this, you know? Things have just been… difficult lately, and I’m trying to do right by Jasper, but I’m still figuring out how, if that makes sense,” I said to her, not really knowing why I was suddenly confiding in her. Ginny was only a year younger than me, twenty-one. We’d never talked much growing up. Better late than never, I suppose.

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Don’t be so hard on yourself, seriously,” Ginny said gently while she began tying up my corset. I took a moment to admire myself in the ornate mirror in front of me. I was now adorned in an ankle-length, deep green dress. It was significantly nicer than any piece of clothing I’d ever owned. 

“Where did you get this, Ginny? It’s so beautiful,” I asked. Ginny shrugged as she pulled and adjusted the fabric, seemingly her final touches.

“I’m not sure. Mum never said where she got it. But it’s gorgeous on you.” I felt my face flush as I stared back at myself in the mirror. I looked unfamiliar. Hesitantly, I gave Ginny a little twirl, feeling a grin creep onto my lips as the skirt flared around me in a perfect circle. I felt young. I felt new.

“Thank you for lending it to me. Hopefully, everything goes well, and I’ll make enough money to buy you many more dresses such as this one,” I said, smiling at Ginny. Then I caught sight of a nearby window. The sun wasn’t in the sky quite yet, but the darkness of the night was beginning to lift. “Speaking of which, I’d better get going. I’ll be back before nightfall to get Jasper; he should still be sleeping at home,” I rambled while heading for the door, Ginny close behind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go fetch him. You’re right though, you’d better get a move on; sun’ll be up in an hour.” I nodded and tore the towel from my head, letting my semi-dry and now wavy hair fall to my shoulders and back. The other Weasleys lifted their heads as I rushed to the door. I quickly waved goodbye and said my thanks as I ran outside, the chorus of their farewells barely reaching my ears. I was already several paces down the street. 

Luckily for me, I knew my way to the castle. Once I reached my teenage years, I’d often sneak through the woods and journey to the capital. And when I got near enough, I’d take a right and go the long way ‘round. That way, I could get up close and personal to the walls of Orton. I couldn’t see anything, of course, but I loved to sit my back against the cool stone bricks and simply listen to the hustle and bustle. As a young girl, I often daydreamed of what life might be like within those walls. Now, I may get the chance to find out.

The trip was just how I’d remembered it, although a bit shorter. First, I’d walk straight between the long stretches of farmland. Sometimes I’d even get to see livestock. But after that, the land would transition into dense forest, filled with various wildflowers as well as a little creek. Once through there, one found themselves at the start of a cobblestone road leading straight to the gates of Orton. That’s where I was now. The sun was beginning to pierce the sky, and I didn’t feel ready. Then I thought of Jasper, and my foot moved forwards, the other following after it. Soon enough, I was face to face with two tall men dressed in silver armor. Behind them, cast iron doors concealing the city beyond them.

“State your name and business,” the man on the left said. His eyes wouldn’t even meet mine. Bile tempted to spill into my mouth, but I swallowed it down and did as he asked.

“Y/N of Orton. I come to find work, specifically for the position at the castle,” I said in a tone as confident as I could muster. The guard raised his eyebrows. 

“I’ve never seen you or heard of you. You certain you’re from here?” he asked, jutting his finger towards the doors. I nodded firmly. Fake it till you make it.

“Yes, sir. I haven’t been home in many months as I’ve been looking after my cousin in Totbury. He’s been very ill, and I’ve been afraid to leave his side. Yet, I fear I am without much money. Hence why I’m here now.” I looked at the men, trying to gauge whether or not they detected my lies. I’d only just cooked up that tall tale fifteen minutes ago, and I didn’t have anything past that. My fingers squeezed each other behind my back as I waited for them to reply. One looked to the other, who shrugged, then they turned back to me.

“Very well, welcome back,” he said. My sigh of relief was covered up by the loud creaking of the doors as the men pushed them open, revealing the awaking city. I quickly walked through them before the guards could change their minds. Mother of God. I couldn’t believe I was actually here. But I knew I didn’t have time to explore, I had to get to the castle. Hardly anyone was outside their homes yet, so I took off running, my worn shoe soles slapping on the cobblestone. I didn’t know my way, of course. I was simply going by the spiral at the top of a tower. I could see it from the city streets, so I rushed through the city’s twist and turns until arriving at a long stone bridge. It led all the way to a tall archway, beyond it, the entrance to the castle. 

I did my best not to break out into a sprint and instead speed-walked across it, wondering why there was nobody else in sight. I didn’t have time to ponder it further as I had already made it to the entrance. I told the guards here the same thing I’d said to the ones at the gates. They let me in seconds after I said I was there for the job opening.

The beauty of the castle stopped me in my tracks. Candles flickered above me in the high-hanging chandeliers, their light shining on the polished wooden floors. Gold framed portraits decorated the warm stone walls. Everything was so clean, so elegant. My eyes had no idea where to look. Get a hold of yourself. You’re not here to look around. I scanned the foyer but realized I had no idea where to go. But then a soft voice startled me.

“It’s up the stairs and to the left, dear. Better hurry. The Prince is almost done with his breakfast.” I turned around to see a short old woman with stark blonde hair. At first glance, she reminded me of my mother. She smiled when she saw my face. “Go on, wouldn’t want to be late now,” she ushered. I hastily nodded my head as I hurried up the steps, taking a left just as she had told me. I was now facing a long hallway, at the end of which were open doors leading into a large room. As I drew nearer, I could see a long line of people, all with their hands behind their back and chests puffed out. Intimidation tickled my skin. They all looked so proper.

Trying to push away my thoughts, I stepped into the room, which I realized was the throne room, and claimed my place beside a young woman. She looked to be around my age, as did many of the women. I quickly noticed that there were only women here. That’s odd. Surely at least some men would wish to be the Prince’s servant. Although, I suppose it’s not the same as being his right-hand man or advisor. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud toot of a trumpet. I turned to my right to see a well-dressed man with a silver instrument pressed to his lips. He played a little tune before lowering the trumpet.

“His Majesty, the King, and her Majesty, the Queen.” The man stepped aside, and two figures entered the room. The man was tall, had blonde hair, and a pale, pointed face. His eyes seemed to pierce my soul when he made eye contact. He carried a black and silver cane with him as he walked. The woman at his side looked just as unnerving as her husband. She, too, was tall, although not as tall as the King. Her hair was long and blonde, just as pale as her skin. The slimness of her waist was rather alarming, and her eyes were ice cold. 

The couple took their seats on their respective thrones and turned towards the door. The previous man spoke again. “His Royal Highness, Prince Draco.” The man of the hour, Draco Malfoy, strutted into the room. A perfect combination of his parents, his skin was cool white, nearly the same as his platinum hair. His high cheekbones and pointed chin resembled his father’s, but, unlike the King, Draco’s hair was cut short, a few stray strands hovered over his forehead. When he took a seat next to his mother, I could see her eyes soften as she looked at him.

The trumpeter exited, leaving the Royal Family alone with the line of girls in front of them, save for a few guards. The King cleared his throat and rose to his feet, clutching his snake-headed cane as he did. 

“In a few moments, my son will choose his new servant. I trust you will all be respectful and do as you’re told. If the prince dismisses you, then you leave. If the prince asks you a question, you answer it truthfully. And finally, if the prince chooses you, you will be led to your living quarters and will immediately begin your training. The prince will be taking the throne in exactly two hundred and thirty days; he is a busy young man, and we cannot waste any more time. Do I make myself clear?” he asked. Nobody said a word. “Good. Draco,” he called, motioning to us. 

The prince stood up from his throne and made his way down the marble steps. He stopped a few feet in front of a girl a couple of people down from me. He stared at her for a few seconds before waving his hand and saying, “Dismissed.” The girl didn’t move, she looked confused and a bit shocked. Draco scoffed. “Weren’t you listening to my father? If I dismiss you, you leave. The door is to your right; run along now,” he ordered. I watched in disbelief as the girl bowed her head and rushed from the room, tears in her eyes. “Daft cow,” Draco muttered. Anger began to stir in my chest. What an absolute prick. Christ, I knew the Malfoys were a cold bunch, but I never thought the crown prince would be this much of an arsehole.

He continued going down the line, dismissing girls left and right. It didn’t seem like he had a particular order. No, he was merely kicking out the girls who didn’t please his eye. I knew this because he’d tell them what he didn’t find appealing as they left. 

“Big nose.”

“Thin lips.”

“Too tall.”

“Repulsive complexion.”

He dismissed and dismissed until only three girls remained, including me. He stopped in front of a black-haired woman. She wore a cream-colored gown. It was much fancier than mine and contrasted beautifully with her dark skin.

“What’s your name?” Draco asked. The woman replied that her name was Alyssa. “Hi, Alyssa. Tell me, what makes you want this job?” It was silent for a few moments before the woman answered. 

“My mother suggested it, Your Highness.” Draco clasped his hands behind his back and studied Alyssa’s face and body. His calm demeanor was frightening, to say the least.

“So your mother wants you to have this position, but tell me, Alyssa, do you want this position? Or are we just wasting our time here trying to fulfill the wishes of a woman who isn’t even here?” he seethed. Alyssa stuttered but shook her head and insisted she, too, wanted the job. I could tell from his face that Draco didn’t buy what she was selling, but he didn’t dismiss her. Instead, he shuffled his feet until he stood in front of me. My heart started pounding in my chest, but I kept my head up, my mother’s words echoing in my head. “Don’t be afraid to make eye contact.”

Draco said nothing for nearly an entire minute. He only stood still, eyes never leaving mine. It felt like a staring contest, but without the playful energy. I could see now that his eyes were grey. They looked empty like they were searching for something. I narrowed my own, trying to figure out why they looked this way. It seemed as though this upset Draco.

“What’re you looking at?” he spat. I quickly replied. I could practically feel his anger, and I did not want to add to it by being slow to respond.

“Nothing, Your Highness.”

“Liar. Try again, sweetheart.” Perceptive. Or perhaps just angry. Whichever it was, he now left me with a decision—another lie or the simple truth. I weighed the options in my head; neither seemed favorable.

“Your eyes,” I replied. Draco raised an eyebrow. I took this to mean he wanted me to elaborate. “They’re grey.” Upon hearing this, he rolled them.

“Brilliant deduction,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “But why were you staring at them so...intently?” he questioned me further. However, he seemed afraid almost. Like he didn’t want to hear my answer. Regardless, I shrugged.

“Well, they appear sad and honestly, vacant.” I could feel the entire room tense as I spoke. Behind Draco, I saw The King jump to his feet, his wife’s hand on his arm in a feeble attempt at holding him back. 

“Guards…” he started, but then Draco lifted a hand, halting his father as well as the guards who’d begun to take a few steps forward. 

“That won’t be necessary. Send for Olive. She can show her to her new room,” Draco spoke gently. His voice was even and firm, and yet, nobody moved to fulfill his request.

“Surely you’re not picking her, son?” The King asked, desperation evident in his voice. It was easy to see that he disapproved of this decision. Draco, whose eyes still hadn’t moved from mine, adjusted his hands. They now rested on his thighs, fingers intertwined.

“You’re from Orton, yes?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “You’re healthy, no deathly illnesses?” Again, I nodded. “And you want this job?” This time I decided to speak.

“Yes, Your Highness, very much so.” I curled my toes, hoping my conviction was enough. The smile that stretched across Draco’s face hinted that it was. However, his next words confirmed it.

“Perfect. Yes, Father, I have picked her. Now can somebody please fetch Olive? I don’t quite know why nobody did so even though I specifically remember telling you less than two minutes ago,” he said fiercely. Within seconds, a guard rushed out the door to do as The Prince had ordered. The two girls beside me took this as their cue to exit as well. Alyssa looked gutted, and the other girl seemed relieved. I felt a bit sad to see them go, but my thoughts of them were overridden by the increasingly uncomfortable feeling growing in my stomach.

The distress in the air felt thick, almost suffocating. It seemed that the vacant man standing in front of me was quite the threatening presence. While this let me know I should tread lightly when in his company, it didn’t instill fear. Yes, I had been intimidated and afraid when I initially walked into the Malfoy’s throne room, but once I’d gotten a good look at the youngest of the bunch, those feelings dissipated.

His eyes told me all I needed to know. Draco was nothing but talk. He was closer to a boy than he was a man, and more importantly, he had no guts to do anything substantial. Sure, words could hurt, but when it came down to it, they were nothing more than words.

As I was led to my room by Olive, the kind older woman I’d met at the doorway, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. 

Taglist (I used my All Draco Works taglist for this, if you DO NOT want to be on this taglist for Betwixt, please let me know!): @beiahadid​ @pastelpuffbar​ @cutie1365​ @dracoxmgg​ @lumlfy​ @sambucky8​ @emilianamason​ @raplinethereal​ @DixieTheMorab24 @xoxohollands​  @prongsandprancer​ @ch0kemedracomalfoy​ @avlauriaa​ @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream​ @drxcomvlfx​ @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl​ @voilawind​ @gloryekaterina​ @anchoeritic​ @ragxsxragxs​ @exoticlizard @dlmmdl @siriusblklftv​ @Writtenbyadramaqueen @amourtentiaa​ @keidensu​

#draco lucius malfoy #Draco Malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x yn #Draco #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x you #draco royalty #royalty au #Ron Weasley #hogwarts royalty #hogwarts royalty au #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #draco malfoy fanfiction #royal fanfiction

[izukuwus]

Sweet Words, Sweetcheeks

A/N: Day 13 of @birds-have-teeth​’s Izumonth server collab.

Summary: It’s been some time since you and Izuku took the plunge and bought the bakery, and Izuku couldn’t be happier working together with you towards both of your dreams. Well, except for one thing. (baker!Izuku x reader)

Warnings: brush ur teeth cus this one’s straight sugar

Word count: 2100+

A mop of green hair and matching eyes poke around the corner as you enter Lemon Wedge, the bell above the door signifying your arrival. "You're back! Any issues with the delivery?"

"Not a one!" you chirp, stifling a giggle at the sight of Izuku with flour dusting his clothing, frosting smeared on his cheek. "Have any of you boys eaten yet?"

A chorus of 'yes' sounds from the back room, causing you to sigh. "Anything that isn't on our menu?"

No one answers. You roll your eyes, making your way around the counter and rattling some bags of takeout loudly. "Alright, if any of you aren't doing something you absolutely cannot put down right this moment—which at least one of you should be, given I left you guys alone to deliver all those cakes this morning—come eat your fill." The boys have been giving you the runaround all day, your normal delivery driver having called out this morning with an embarrassingly pathetic attempt to sound sick.

"I'm free!" Kiri shouts enthusiastically. 

"I am as well," Tokoyami says, dusting flour off his hands. You watch as both boys make their way to the sinks to wash up.

Izuku lets out a whine from where he stands at his workstation, painstakingly kneading bread. "This batch has thirty more minutes of kneading before it's ready to proof, but I don't want the food to get cold..."

You set one bag of food down on a clean counter for Kirishima and Tokoyami to dig into, humming as you approach your boyfriend. "They're subs, babe. You don't have to worry about them getting cold."

You set the bag containing yours and his food on an adjacent counter, popping up on your toes and making like you're going in for a kiss. He's quick to respond, which makes it all the funnier when a disappointed whine leaves his lips as you lean over and lick the smear of frosting off his cheek.

"Angelcake, don't tease me~"

You smile, nuzzling against his cheek for a moment. "Sorry, sweetcheeks. Ya had something on your face there." 

"You're lucky I've got this bread to pay attention to, you—"

The bell rings as a customer enters. You bop his nose gently. "I'll be right with you~" you croon, practically skipping off to the front counter to deal with the customer.

Izuku waits. As Kirishima and Tokoyami go off to eat, he waits. As he listens to your sweet customer service voice while you talk to the customer, he waits. And when you're done and good and the customer has been served with a smile, Izuku waits.

When you return, he launches a small pinch of flour directly into your face.

You splutter, reaching up to wipe at your face in pure shock. "Did you just..."

"Maybe," he says, trying hard not to laugh as you stand there with flour dusting your face.

"I was coming back over here to lovingly hand-feed you your sub and you just..."

"I'll still take the sub?" he tries, batting his eyelashes innocently.

You sigh, heading over to the sink and wiping your face with some damp paper towels. "Nope, you lost your chance. Eat after you get that bread proofing, sweetcheeks."

He whines at your dismissal, but can't step away from the bread. You get back to work cleaning, stifling your giggles when his attempt to protest (something along the lines of "I've been kneading bread all day") is cut off by the phone ringing. You answer it in a second, waggling your fingers at Izuku teasingly.

"Hello, you've reached Lemon Wedge Cakes and Bakes, this is [name] speaking! How can I help you?"

Izuku turns back to his bread with a sigh. At least you didn't get a chance to question him. He'd almost ruined—well, that's not important. When you return from jotting down the call-in details, his transgression is forgotten, and you feed him bites of his sub between kisses and clean dishes.

~

Izuku leaves the bakery for the night before you do. Often, since you live together, either your shifts are at the same times to make transportation easy or he'll simply hang around and relax while waiting for your own shift to end, which usually results in him helping you with closing whether you want him to or not. Most nights, however, if schedules and workloads don't permit, he'll head home first to buy dinner for the both of you to eat when you're home, usually being too tired from being in a kitchen all day to get back in the kitchen to handle dinner. Tonight is one of the nights in which Izuku goes on ahead, leaving you to handle the storefront and get everything closed up while the high schooler at the register handles the last of the sales for the night.

When you finally arrive home, it's hours after Izuku, and honestly, you're excited to just get off your feet, crash on the couch, and watch some vapid reality show with takeout balanced on your chest and Izuku's hand in yours. What greets you, though, isn't takeout and reality shows. Izuku's head pops out from the kitchen with a broad grin. "Welcome home, angel!"

The living room is clean, the dining room lit with candles as the smell of something homey greets you. Izuku's hair is fluffy and damp, implying he's taken a shower since his shift at the bakery. You hear the sound of water running, then Izuku rushes over to meet you at the door with a kiss. "I missed you," he breathes against your lips, effortlessly picking your feet off the floor with his hug.

You snort, playfully pushing him away. His arms hold you tight to his chest, though—no escape from Izuku's love. "Izuku, it's been four hours."

"Four long hours!" 

You giggle and kiss him on the nose. "I missed you too." Your arms wind around his neck, rewarding his affection by relaxing into his hug as he sets you down. "What's all this? I thought we were getting Chinese tonight."

Izuku rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I thought I'd—you know, do something nice for you. You're always taking care of me, and we've been working so hard since we bought the bakery, and..."

Another soft kiss, this time pressed to his lips. "You cleaned everything up and cooked for me?"

"Myeah," he says, muffled as you continue to press kisses to his face. "There's cake, too."

"Oh, Izu. I love it. Thank you so much." As you pull back, prepared to sit down, kick your shoes off, and finally eat, a thought occurs to you. "Does all this have anything to do with why Denki called out this morning with no notice claiming to be suffering a, quote, '24 hour leprosy attack'?"

"Don't be mad, he tried his best," Izu says, ruffling your hair. "Are you hungry? Because the food's ready if you are."

"Hungry and exhausted." You press into his touch with a smile. "I swear I could marry you." Whatever he mutters in response, you don't quite catch. "What's that, Izu?"

"N-nothing!" he squeaks. "Come on, you should sit down. I'll get your food." He disappears into the kitchen, stumbling on the step into the elevated area with a yelp. "W-what do you want to drink? Is champagne fine?"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Izuku Midoriya?" you tease as you wriggle out of your jacket and kick off your shoes.

"[name] we've been dating for four years."

"And?"

"Of course I'm trying to seduce you," he calls, stifling laughter. "Gotta give you a reason to stick around, you know?"

"As if you're ever getting rid of me." You make your way across the room, draping yourself in a chair dramatically. "Honestly, how am I ever going to thank you for this one, babe?"

He emerges from the kitchen, setting a glorious-looking plate of food in front of you. "W-well, you don't have to, but there is one way you could thank me."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He sets his own plate of food across the table, smoothing his hands over his pants almost... nervously? "Hold on." He disappears back into the kitchen.

"Wait, no, get back here, tell me what I can do!"

After a moment, he returns, taking level, even breaths as if he's trying to calm himself. "You sure you wanna know?" He smiles, one that's almost forced. You'd be worried for him if you weren't used to his random bouts of nerves. 

"Tell meee," you whine.

He chuckles, circling around behind you so your head rests against his stomach. One arm comes around to hug you as he crouches behind you, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "Okay, okay. Just close your eyes and be patient, okay?"

You grin, but acquiesce, closing your eyes as he brings a hand up to cover them for an added layer of protection. "I-I've never been very good with words, s-so please don't make fun of me if I mess this up."

"It only adds to your charm," you tease, feeling him shuffle around behind you.

"[name]," he whines, "I said be patient."

You mime zipping your lips, letting him continue. He curses under his breath, fumbling for something that just thumped quietly against the floor, and you patiently wait for him to collect himself. He inhales, exhales, and starts again. "Okay. I... I said this earlier, but since we bought Lemon Wedge and started pouring everything into it, you've been working so hard, and I really can't express to you how much your support means to me." The hand that's been frantically shuffling behind your (and—you assume—his) back comes to rest on your chest, a quick kiss being pressed to the top of your head before he continues.

"I've loved you for a long time, longer than the years we've been together. But in the past two years, seeing you put your all into something that's my dream as much as it is yours... I've fallen in love with you all over again, and um..." He pauses for a long moment, taking several deep breaths. "Man, I can only shut up when I need to be able to talk, huh?"

"It's okay," you coo, still unable to see. "You know I'm listening no matter what."

He groans, resting his head atop yours for a moment. "See, you're perfect. Ever since we met, you've been nothing but supportive. I've always been a little insecure, but I've never once doubted that you loved me, because you've always shown that you care. Listening when I talk, even when I've gone off on some crazy tangent and I'm just thinking out loud. Bringing me food during the day so you're sure I've eaten something healthy. You mean the world to me, angelcake. There are days I'm sure I wouldn't have even bothered getting out of bed if I didn't know you'd be there with a smile. And I know, we already live together, I already wake up to you every morning, and that alone is more than I ever could have hoped for, but... wait, hold on, a-are you crying?"

"No," you sniffle, tears running down your cheeks. "Finish your sentence, 'Zuzu."

He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, stopping a line of tears in its tracks before finally removing his hand from your eyes. You gasp at the sight, though really, you already knew it was coming. "If you'll have me, [name]... I'd like it if we could... if you'd..." He lets out a tiny groan. "Sorry, sorry. [name], will you marry me?"

The ring resting on your chest is beautiful. An iridescent fire opal in the center, ringed with small diamonds and emeralds that instantly call your boyfriend—no, fiancé to mind.

You nearly fall off the chair as you flip around to tackle Izuku, crashing your lips to his as he yelps and steadies you. "Hey, c-careful, you could get hurt!"

"It's okay," you sigh against his lips, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. "You'll always catch me. Of course I'll marry you, Izuku. I'll marry you a thousand times, a million, even. Every day you'll have me, if you want it."

Izuku's tears join your own as he sits back, pulling you into his lap on the dining room floor so he can hold you close. "I'm so—so glad."

The dinner is spent in giggling tears as the two of you move to the floor to eat in each other's arms. It's hard to pull away from him, even when you've both decided you need to get off the floor and at least move to the couch. You spend the night cuddled up close to him, admiring your engagement ring with a soft gaze.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @birds-have-teeth​ @icythotsenpai​ @warmchoccymilk​ @wesparklebitch​ @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​ @denise-the-death-goddess​ @themerpenguin​ @sincerebubbles​ @themmmelissa @fudobaby​

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics #baker!izuku midoriya #izumonth server collab #izucult server #fluff

[sixtyeightdays]

The Queen

She is not playing dolls. She is stalking the halls; living off thrill of the kill. Marinette can smell fear.

this mini speech drabble is inspired by HBIC by @unmaskedagain and The Pigtails Are Off by @para-dox-normal

WARNING: MILD VIOLENCE , SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC

Marinette left the class, after depositing ribbons into the hands of a few of her classmates.

Alya turned to face Nino, whose hat was still drawn down, covering the upper part of his face. 

‘What was that all about?’ She demanded. Nino sunk lower into his seat, casting a look towards Chloe, who huffed and stood up.

‘You all made a huge enemy today,’ she began.

Alix scoffed. ‘We’ve dealt with you a lot, we aren’t scared of you.’

This time, Sabrina spoke up, which clearly shocked the rest of the class who thought she was a spineless servant of Chloe’s.

There was a glint in her green eyes that wasn’t there earlier, making a shiver run down the class’ spines.

‘Oh, who said anything about Chloe?’

Now it was Juleka who spoke up, looking away from Rose who was grasping at her arm for answers.

‘You have no idea what kind of protection you just threw away.’

Ivan, fed up, slammed his fist into the table. ‘What the HELL are you guys even talking about?’

Nino looked up and smirked, which shocked Alya and made her take a step back, after noticing the sinister glint in his eyes.

‘You all are... new here. You don’t know how the Queen works.’

Kim stood up from his desk proudly, puffing his chest out. ‘I’ve been in this class one of the longest! 3 years!’

Nathaniel looked to him like he was stupid before shaking his head.

‘No. We have. I’ve been here 6 years, Chloe 5, Sabrina, 6, Juleka 5 and Marinette? 8.’ 

Juleka, Nino, Chloe and Sabina all spoke up in an oddly monotonous voice, walking towards the front of the class.

‘She is not playing dolls. She is stalking the halls; living off thrill of the kill. Marinette can smell fear.’

The class broke out into laughter. ‘Marinette? What can she do?’ Alya wiped a tear from her eye.

The others stared at her coolly and waited for them to stop laughing. Chloe stepped forwards and smiled.

The class was taken aback.

‘I don’t like any of you, so let me make this clear. Watch your back when you get to school tomorrow. Like Juleka said, you have no idea what kind of protection you just threw away. Marinette has been protecting you guys for ages, since the first minute you stepped into this school.’

‘Just because we don’t like you, doesn’t mean we’re evil enough to leave you..without a warning.’ Juleka smiled, cold flashing over her features.

‘I may be dumb, stupid, even. But I’m not that dumb to get on the wrong side of the Queen.’ Sabrina laughed.

Nathaniel made his way to the front before stepping next to Nino and in unison, they said;

‘Good luck. You’re going to need it.’

-

When Marinette reached home, she immediately shrugged off her regular grey jacket before digging into the closet to the item she had left behind for 3 years.

She reached to the black box sitting innocently at the back of her closet and pulled it out.

She opened it and unfolded the outfit that was inside, looking at it with a evil smile on her face.

Inside, there was black combat boots with silver studs, a black leather jacket with light pink and grey highlights and dark blue ripped jeans.

Marinette grabbed the clothes out and spent the night altering her old clothes, making it bigger and adding a small pocket in her jacket for Tikki to comfortably sit in.

The kwami knew of Marinette’s past of course, it was one of the first things the bluenette had confessed to the kwami about. Tikki was supportive of the old Marinette surfacing again. She was irritated by the way her class treatedher chosen, and wanted it to be over once and for all.

That hatchet was long forgotten, although the way Marinette ruled the school went unnoticed by the imbeciles in her class.

Marinette was--still is-- the Queen of her school. When she arrived in the beginning, she was not to be taken lightly and she earned her place at the top of the food chain.

There had aways been some sort of invisible barrier between the other students and Mlle. Bustier’s class. No one could get in, mainly due to Marinette’s influence.

Everyone in the school apart form that class knew about the Queen who sat in the sidelines. Marinette had some sort of protection over that class and if anything happened to them, you’d had to answer to her.

This made many of the students stay away, although they still made friends with the class.

-

The next morning, Marinette was early. Surprising, I know. But she knew her class always sat together in the courtyard until everyone arrived, and 15 minutes before school started, they would head up to the classroom.

If anything, Marinette felt rather relieved at not having to hide her status anymore. Word had spread, and there was whispering everywhere, glances at Mlle. Bustier’s table, who didn’t notice.

Alya heard many people whispering around her. 

‘I must say, I’ll be happy to see the Queen in action again. It was a golden era.’

‘I know right! I feel sorry for the poor people who invoked the wrath of the Queen though.’

The doors slammed open, ad a tall shadowy figure strutted in as if she owned the place. Lila regarded her carefully.

Once the shadowy figure took enough steps forward, she stopped. Light illuminating her features to reveal Marinette.

Gone was the happy go lucky expression on her face, replaced with a steely determination with no trace of her usual smile. 

Her hair, free from her signature pigtails, flowed freely down her back, wild, as if she just came back from the club with her boyfriend.

She wore her leather jacket and ripped jeans. She wasn’t even wearing a shirt, opting for a black sports bra. She zipped her jacket up till the bottom of her bra, before letting the sleeves of the jacket fall back on her shoulders.

She was wearing black pumps, almost 6 inches tall, which made the class’ jaws drop. Clumsy Marinette wearing heels? That almost spelled disaster.

The class could’ve sworn the temperature dropped as soon as she looked in their direction. A cold smile graced her lips, which were stained a blood red.

She lifted her right arm slowly, all the while still smirking at the class.

Everyone in the courtyard slowly raised their wrists, Nino and the others included. With sick dread pooling in their stomachs, the class noted with fear that everybody except them were wearing a red hair ribbon on their wrists.

They never took it off. Kim remembered asking Ondine why she wore it, even while swimming. She had looked to him before changing the subject hastily.

Alix recalled her brother, Jali, wearing one on his wrist, before Alix had gone to school at Francois Dupont.

Marinette walked slowly towards their class, swaying her hips with the aura of cool confidence surrounding her. Lila stuck out her foot to trip Marinette, who noticed and gave Lila a smile, before stepping directly on Lila’s toes, crushing it with her heel. 

Marinette grinded her heel into Lila’s foot, and she could barely keep herself from yelling. Soon, she did and the class turned on Marinette, screaming profanities at her. 

Lila’s toes were now bent in ways that shouldn’t have been possible, a sickening purple color. Surprisingly, no blood was exiting the toes, and Marinette internally rolled her eyes at how careless the class thought she was.

She whispered to Lila, although the whole courtyard heard.

‘You wanna fake an injury, Lila? I’ll give you an injury.’

Alya snarled and tried to slap Marinette.

‘What is wrong with you, you bitch!’ Her hand swung out, intending to meet Marinette’s face. And though no one blinked, Marinette’s hand caught Alya’s. Her fingers wrapped around Alya’s wrist almost seductively, before she smiled.

The smile reminded of the class of the old times, when Marinette used to have fun with the class, laughing her heart out when Kim snorted milk out of his nose.

That was how the class knew Marinette enjoyed breaking Alya’s wrist.

The bluenette squeezed Alya’s wrist with surprising strength, causing Alya to let go of the phone clenched in her hand, letting it fall to the floor, where Alya’s wallpaper glowed for a soft moment, showing Alya, with an arm wrapped around Marinette, before the bluenette stepped on the phone like she did with Lila, causing the screen to shatter and Alya to call out in anguish.

That call turned into a scream as the class watched Marinette mercilessly twist Alya’s wrist, breaking it with one resonating snap.

Marinette let go and watched amusedly as Alya flailed around, grasping her broken wrist in her fine one.

Marinette watched it all with a smile on her face, an exact replica of the happy, warm smile she gave when she hung out with her friends.

The class looked around and realised that none of the students around them looked the least bit shocked when the situation was occurring.

Adrien let out a quick breath. This was what Chloe meant by Queen.

And as Marinette turned to fix her cold eyes on the class, they knew they was done for.

-

Sabrina watched from afar with Chloe, smiling sickeningly as everyone in the class took their turn to get something of theirs broken.

Marinette saved Adrien for last. He smiled charmingly at Marinette, inching backwards, trying to use the fact that she had a crush on him in his favor. As Marinette paused, he exhaled quickly, thinking it was over.

Marinette took a step back. If she were to hurt Adrien, his father would most certainly murder her and Marinette wasn’t willing to waste more time on the blonde model than she already had.

Until Adrien called out.

‘Mari this isn’t you! Come bACK TO US!’

The courtyard swiveled their heads to look at the boy and no one flinched as her heel found his stomach.

There was a smile on Marinette’s face even after Adrien lost consciousness. 

its kind of a bad ending but i couldnt think of how to end it with and im sorry bc its kind of violent but i think this is okay for now

#marinette #HBIC #not my idea #okay its not mine

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

Neither Lucy nor Natsu sat through the closing arguments, but according to Gajeel the defense stood firmly on their case for insanity. Touka’s attorney argued that his client suffered from a disorder that should put her in a hospital for treatment, not a jail cell, and not only that, but the so-called victims in the case drove her to do what she did. It was a very risky move to blame the victims. Of course, the prosecution countered that not only did Touka not suffer from any condition but that this was a simple case of jealousy gone wrong. Natsu and Lucy were innocent victims of a selfish woman who tried to kill them. Period, and for that she should go to prison for the maximum sentence allowed.

The prosecutor implored to the jurors heartstrings. “You saw the effects that Ms. Shiromajyo caused to her victims. The tears shed on the stand and the genuine fear in Ms. Heartfilia’s testimony as she recounted the events in question. Ladies and gentlemen, this young woman stared death in the face and watched her boyfriend almost get killed by the defendant. They had to fight to survive! Ms. Heartfilia and Mr. Dragneel have experienced something that no one should ever go through.” He gestured at the timeline board facing them. “Ms. Shiromajyo stalked multiple people over the course of several years to reach her goal, intimidating people that really had nothing to do with her. Ms. Shiromajyo paid a person to kill Ms. Strauss, threatening and intimidating her. And most of all, ultimately took this whole situation into her own hands when all of her efforts didn’t work out. She is a danger to society. I urge you, the jury to give her victims the peace of mind that she’ll be off the streets in a cell getting the treatment that she needs, and the punishment she deserves.”

It was a nerve wracking time for the victims as they waited outside of the court room for the jury to deliberate. Lucy and Natsu stayed in a side room with the prosecutor along with their closest friends and family there to support them. The prosecutor assured them that they’d done their best and the odds were in their favor. But of course, it only took one hold out to cause a mistrial, and Lucy didn’t know if she could go through this again. She was already unhappy that even if convicted, Japan’s sentencing structures were not as stringent as other countries.

The jury deliberated for four hours before reaching a verdict pronouncing Touka guilty of all charges. Upon hearing the guilty decision, Lucy and Natsu slipped back into the court room to hear the final disposition.

“Rise Ms. Shiromajyo.” The judge then read the decision to the standing defendant. “You have been found guilty by this court of two counts of attempted murder that caused injury. One count of kidnapping for profit. And three counts of intimidation. Do you have any last statement to make to the court before I render sentencing?”

Touka hung her head as if resigned to her fate. “Yes...” Surprisingly, to all those in the courtroom, she apologized for her actions. “I see now how much pain I caused to everyone because I couldn’t control myself and I hope one day they’ll forgive me for it.”

But her words of contrition were too little, too late. The judge sentenced Touka to the maximum of the highest offense, which was 15 years with work, but instead of the work condition, imposed a special circumstance that Touka be ordered to undergo mandatory psychological treatment while in custody and to adhere to any treatments and medications prescribed for her own good.

“Ms. Shiromajyo,” the judge spoke directly to the woman. “You’ve apologized at the end, but I hope you truly feel that way. Based on all of the evidence presented in court, your actions were clearly towards a one-sided love affair with a man who wanted nothing to do with you, and for that you tried to punish an innocent woman who got in your way. I do not believe, and the jury agreed, that you do not suffer from a legal defense of mental defect, however you should spend the time in prison to get your mind right again, so that when you re-enter society in the future, you’ll no longer suffer from whatever emotional problems brought you here in the first place. You are very lucky that I cannot under the law sentence you to concurrent sentences for every single charge. Bailiff, take custody of the prisoner. This case is adjourned.”

As the final gavel bang echoed in the court room, Natsu and Lucy who’d made it in time to hear it all, broke down in tears and elation as the court room erupted in cheers around them. A rarity for the poised population. This case was certainly anything but common for Japan, especially because the perpetrator was a woman and journalists had kept the public up to date with its progress. A lot of people were affected by this case personally, but the fear of what Touka had done rang cold for onlookers too. For the public, the idea that someone you may know could harbor ill will and do something this heinous was a scary proposition.

While the case was now over, Lucy knew her own struggles with anxiety were not, despite the tiny relief she’d felt in hearing the words guilty. She’d made it through the trial by sheer determination, but the experience had set her back in her progress. Reliving all the worst events and being grilled by the defense had re-traumatized her. Not all the way regressed, but the nightmares were back anew, starting immediately after her recall testimony.

It wasn’t just the old memories that haunted Lucy, but a new, troubling thought brought out during that testimony. When the defense attorney tried to make her think she was just as bad as Touka, there was a point when she thought... was it true? And the more she pondered, the worst the correlation became despite her loved ones conviction that she was nothing like the woman. Because... why not? If Touka’s deluded mind really believed she was protecting what was hers, well isn’t that the same logic Lucy used to defend herself and Natsu? Then there was the rage she’d felt. Was the attorney, right? If Natsu hadn’t stopped her from beating the woman, would she have killed Touka? Did that mean she had a killer instinct too?

All the publicity surrounding the trial didn’t help one bit. Just trying to get out of the court room after the verdict had been a complete circus of cameras flashing and microphones being shoved in the couples faces wanting their opinions of the verdict. Oh, how Lucy wanted to scream in their faces! How do they think they’d feel?! Yes, it felt great to be vindicated, but 15 years for almost killing them? Where were their assurances that when Touka was released, she wouldn’t pick right back up where she’d left off and hunt them down?

All these irrational thoughts fueling the new regression were different from before. Lucy didn’t feel as anxious. She was a little depressed, but now she was also— angry.

When she arrived at her therapy session without Natsu, Lucy sat on the couch facing the woman with her arms crossed. The therapist was quick to note the way in which she was holding her poise because it wasn’t a comforting arm cross, but a firm one. The muscles in her forearms were tense along with the tight lipped and brows furrowed expression gracing Lucy’s face.

“Well, this is certainly new,” the woman put her notebook down as she spoke. “Something has changed, shall we talk about it?”

Lucy’s hands clenched firmly as her eyes look away slightly. “I had a small argument with Natsu this morning.”

“I get the impression it wasn’t small.”

“Okay! It was a big fight! Happy?!” Lucy’s arms unfurled and gesticulated. “I don’t even know why it got out of hand, but it did.”

“Tell me what happened and let’s figure it out together.”

“Tch,” Lucy crossed her arms again and looked away. “I woke up from a nightmare. He started comforting me like he al—ways does, and I told him to stop. But he didn’t.”

“Why’d you tell him to stop?”

“I don’t know... I was just, irritated.”

“With him?”

“Yes... No— both, I don’t fucking know! Just pissed off, okay?! I was just angry and didn’t wanna be bothered!”

“I see... and how did Natsu react?”

“He, well, um,” Lucy’s shoulders dropped a bit. “He just said okay, I’ll give you space if you want it and left the bedroom. And we haven’t spoken since then.”

“It sounds like Natsu respected your wishes to back off. But why is that making you so angry?”

The therapists question brought instant tears pooling in Lucy’s eyes. She knew why, but she didn’t know why, and holding it in was tearing her apart. But she also didn’t know how to articulate all of the random thoughts plaguing her in a way that made sense. So, at that moment she just broke. Through fitful sobs the cacophony of broken, fragmented thoughts spewed out in no logical manner. Lucy just spoke every word and sentence that came to mind as the therapist sat quietly listening.

This was her first session since the trial had ended, so all of the wounds were painfully fresh. Shouldn’t she be happy it was over? They were free for now and it was time to move forward but all she could think about were the things the attorney had said. And that made her angry with herself. Lucy’s always thought she was so much stronger, yet this experience or rather the effects left her feeling lost and broken, and weak. Even more infuriating for her, she knew these thoughts were completely irrational! It’s one thing to not understand, it’s another to know how stupid it sounded and not be able to fight back against it. Weak. That’s what it made her feel. Stupid and weak for losing herself. They may have won against Touka, but Touka had taken something away and Lucy feared she’d lost it forever.

Who she was.

The therapist moved over to the couch and hugged tightly to a sobbing Lucy, stroking her hair and cradling her head. Comforting in silence allowed the blonde to just cry, as hard as she needed to and release everything that had been held inside where it shouldn’t stay. When the tears slowed, and Lucy’s breathing had the normalized, the therapist spoke softly.

“You’re not broken, Lucy, and you’re not dumb. You’re rightfully in pain after everything you’ve experienced, and that’s okay too.”

“How is that okay?” Lucy sniffled. “It shouldn’t be okay!”

“It’s not fair what you had to endure but being upset and feeling pain because of it means you’re human. Even the anger is a good feeling right now.”

Lucy snorts an annoyed laugh at such a ridiculous sounding statement. Anger being, okay?!

“There are positives we can take from this.”

Again, Lucy huffs. “Yeah, right. That makes a lot of sense.”

The therapist pulls back and settles into a more professional pose to continue. “Your anger means you care. Think about it, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t get angry, right?”

“I guess...”

“In all these months, this is the first time I am seeing a deep passion coming from you. Lucy you aren’t really lost, and this anger are those feelings screaming ‘I’m still here!’ You can use that same energy to push forward.”

“But what about Natsu?” Lucy’s eyes cloud up. “I think I really made him mad a-and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Did he come with you today?”

“Yeah, he’s in the waiting room.” Lucy mumbled through a frown. “But I think he just came cause he felt obligated.”

The therapists eyes softened along with her tone. “I have a feeling that’s not the case. He might feel hurt and confused right now, but I’m sure he still loves you deeply. Maybe we should bring him in here and talk things over? That way I can help you through it.”

Lucy paused for a moment before nodding weakly. “I’d like that.”

The therapist brought Natsu into the room and as soon as he saw the puffy red eyes and Lucy’s disheveled appearance immediately stumbled over and hugged onto her with tears of his own flowing down, apologizing over and over for upsetting her that morning.

Although Lucy stiffened up at first when he’d hugged her in fear of what he might say, his words instead stunned her. All along she’d felt the fight was her fault, not his. She’d been the bitch to him and now his pain brought her tears back along with a loss of her anger. “It’s not your fault,” she hugged him back. “I was angry with myself and took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

“But I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“No,” Lucy exhaled, “you did the right thing. I... I needed something to wake me up.”

Natsu pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lucy smiled weakly. “Coming here mad, I couldn’t hide it so she made me talk about it. Now I see how that needed that to happen and I feel a lot better because of it. I was just worried you’d hate me for the way I acted.”

“I could never hate you,” Natsu smiled and cupped Lucy’s cheeks. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

By that point, the therapist had gone back to her own chair and with the session almost over for that day, addressed the couple together. “Lucy right now I think you are at a very good point in your progress. Your anxiety had gotten better, the depression is still there, but it’s not as debilitating as it was before, so now it’s time to take the next step in the healing process. You’d mentioned wanting going back to school and the next semester starts in a month. Perhaps it’s time to consider going back?”

“I-I don’t know if I could handle full time...”

“Maybe reach out to the school and see if they’ll work with you on a modified schedule?”

“I guess I could...”

“And I’ll help you,” Natsu added on as he squeezed Lucy’s hand. “They’ve been really supportive so far.”

Lucy let out a long exhale. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“I’ve got another suggestion too,” Natsu added. “If you get angry, you could take it out with a physical sport or something.”

“That’s actually a good outlet,” the therapist agreed. “Is there anything you’re interested in?”

“Um...” Lucy thought about for a couple minutes. “I thought about taking self-defense classes.”

“That would be cool! Maybe we can go together?”

“I’d really, really like that.” And first time in a long time, Lucy truly meant it.

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #stangers on a train #ch 31