#like I couldn’t survive without naps

[tooth-com]

No wonder those bitches were crazy😔

I need the Tulpar crew sleeping in and being well rested 4K HD

[unintentionalseductress]

Someone You Loved

I'm a mess since I finished Xavier's myth and my period came early so now I'm just sad and can't focus on anything else. Headcanons for the men when MC breaks up with them. Warnings: None, but lots of angst because everything SUCKS. Love and Deepspace. Hmph. More like Love and Deep Depression.

In the darkness, Zayne wakes suddenly, his hands instinctively reaching out to pull you to him; only for his grasp to curl into cold sheets and emptiness.

How long had it been? Since he’d slept peacefully? The nightmares never seemed to plague him when you were asleep beside him in his bed, your breath softly ghosting the crook of his neck. He glances up at the ceiling trying to calm his breath. The little dreamcatcher you’d hung so long ago sways slightly and his heart clenches. The bed felt too big for just him. Before meeting you he slept in the middle; now he can’t bring himself to take back your half, leaving it empty, remembering the way your curled form occupied it.

The only time he saw you was when you came in for your checkup. And you seemed fine, which was good, but a part of him is haunted by the possibility that maybe something about him had made you leave him. You had insisted it wasn’t but he can’t help but run scenarios over and over in mind, swirling like a mess of ink in water.

Perhaps his reticent nature had finally driven you away. Or his sarcasm. Or maybe the scars on his hands. Women didn’t like scarred men, did they? He’d wondered about that for too long before Greyson, catching him staring at his hands, said, “Your hands are healing Dr. Zayne. Why do you look at them so doubtfully?”

After those words had been spoken, Zayne had thrown himself into his work. He’d always been a workaholic of course, but it had amplified to a point where he couldn’t go home. It was on purpose. He slept in his office until his superior had caught him, insisting he can’t sleep here.

No one was checking in on him. No one to remind him to take a break or to coax him into taking a nap in between patients. No one waking him up with a smile and a slice of cake that they’d picked up on their way to his place.

The nightmares started after he tried sleeping at home. He hates himself for feeling like a little boy, unable to sleep without a security blanket. But he needed you. The way all living things needed air and sunlight to thrive, he needed you in such a poignant way that it almost stops his blood knowing you’re not in his life anymore.

He knows he needs to sleep. Silently, because that’s what he’d grown accustomed to, silently rolling out to bed so as to not disturb you, he pads over to his closet and pulls out a t-shirt, far too small to be one of his own.

The t-shirt had somehow survived the purge, the day you’d taken all your stuff out of his apartment. It was strange to look at his apartment now because all he sees are the empty spaces you left behind. The spots on the windowsill where your little planters used to be. The blank space on the nightstand on your side of the bed where your phone, earbuds, and hand lotion used to once sit. The cup in the bathroom now holds only one toothbrush.

He brings the t-shirt to his nose and instantly your scent fills his being. He’s thankful he didn’t return it to you as he’d initially planned. The piece of fabric that retained the wonderful smell of your shampoo and the fresh scent of your skin. It calmed him. Cradling it against his cheek, he makes his way back to the bed, laying the t-shirt on his pillow and burying his nose into it as he tries to find a comfortable position.

The t-shirt works its magic, eventually lulling him into a dreamless sleep. The only peace he’s ever known was when he was with you.

It was hard to avoid Xavier no matter where you went. His being your upstairs neighbor and your mission partner made it impossible not to see him. His chest ached whenever he saw you but he masked it with a smile. He never stopped looking out for you. Because he had promised, hadn’t he? So many centuries ago, in a different lifetime, that he’d always be there for you no matter what?

The day of the breakup is always a blur to him. He can’t recall any of the details, but he remembers your face with clarity, remembers the pained expression in your eyes. He had soothingly embraced you, encouraging you to talk to him about what was bothering you, because even his deepest worries never fathomed the idea of you leaving him.

Xavier had frozen when you had tearfully whispered that you wanted to break up. Surely he had misheard you? But no, he hadn’t. You had tried, in vain, to get him to explain where he disappeared to. It bothered you when Xavier disappeared and it didn’t matter if he came back each time. You told him you wanted the truth, and nothing less than that would convince you to stay. Xavier had faltered; he knew he owed it to you, but he didn’t know where to begin.

Philos was a distant dream, probably lost to time and deepspace but he couldn’t help it. The possibility of returning to his own timeline weighed down on him, a heavy burden of duty. If it had been just him, he would have gladly given up months ago, content to stay here with you. But the crew that had accompanied him, dedicated to his cause, stuck here because of his decisions deserved the chance, and he couldn’t give up on them.

Knowing he would never be able to explain without hurting you, he had given you a sad smile, his blue eyes growing misty as he tried to put conviction into his words. “I hope you find someone more worthy.” The feeling of your hands leaving his felt like a rift had divided his heart into two, a chasm separating you both. You left his apartment, and he spent the night on his balcony, listening to your sobs carrying through the air, not knowing how he could take away your pain. 

With much trial and error, Xavier now had a cordial relationship with you. He accompanied you whenever you asked. He still hung out with you at the arcade and came out for hot pot whenever you asked. Because hadn’t he promised to love you even when you weren’t his?

Xavier watches you talking to Tara and when you finally catch his eye, you give him a smile and wave, which he returns. Although he wishes you weren’t broken up, it always brings him relief to see you smiling. He had felt the satisfaction of watching you become a happier person, seeing you grow and eventually finding joy around you. And that would have to be enough. 

He would settle for having you in his life any way he could, even if you decided you didn’t love him. Because after losing you twice, he’d take anything to cut his losses. 

Thomas follows Rafayel around his studio. He can see the state Rafayel is in, the dark bags under his eyes, and the unkempt hair and clothes.

“Rafayel, I think some rest-”

“I don’t need it.” Rafayel picks up a paintbrush, which is already messy from the various hues it was dipped into previously and begins to put strokes onto his canvas. Across the room are scattered paintings and unfinished sculptures, all half-done and looking rather gloomy. 

Thomas tries again. “I can book you a weekend at your favorite onsen. Perhaps a massage. It’ll help clear your head.”

Rafayel glares at him, anger in his lavender eyes. “I said I don’t need it. I have work to do. You know where the door is.”

Signing, Thomas takes his dismissal and the studio is plunged into silence. Rafayel tries again to finish his painting then grits his teeth and hurls the paintbrush away. Droplets of paint drip across the marble floor as it clatters some feet away.

It had been a while since you had broken up with him and Rafayel feels like he’s stuck in time. All his works are incomplete, becoming a neverending list of things that he might never actually pay attention to again.  

Of late, he’s obsessed with trying to paint you, but each time he recalls your face, something or the other feels off. The shape of your eyes, too slanted to be accurate, the curve of your nose, too round to be correct, haunt him as he gazes at the canvas before him. It was you, yet it wasn’t you. 

There’s panic growing in his chest at the idea that he might be forgetting what you look like. His hands and memory seem to be at odds with each other, unable to communicate and translate what he was remembering onto paper. 

He traces the edge of your face, the paint smearing his fingertips, frustration welling up in his heart. He feels disappointed in himself. Hadn’t he said to himself that even if you forgot, he’d remember for the both of you? Yet now, he can’t recall the features of your face, like the image of you in his head was behind a pixelated curtain, and all he could recollect were rough features that somewhat resembled you.

He might put himself into a manic state. He hasn’t slept, haunted by the possibility that he may never paint your portrait accurately again. Rafayel pulls out his phone, the light illuminating his tired face and he desperately looks through his photos. A few days after the breakup, in a fit of rage, he’d deleted all your photos off his phone, an action he now regretted.

“Please…please…there’s gotta be at least one…” he prays as he swipes through the pictures. As he’s about to give up, he finally comes across a single photo, a group picture, taken from his art exhibition some time ago. And there you are, all your features coming back to him with painful clarity. With a sigh, he picks up a fresh paintbrush and tries again, feeling relief flood him as your familiar face finally begins to bloom onto the canvas. 

Luke and Kieran looked in concern at the closed door of Sylus’s room. Sylus wasn't the type to conduct business remotely. Even with all the henchmen at his disposal, he still preferred going out into the N109 zone to ensure his armories and money accounts were secure. But after the breakup, he had been delegating more and mingling with his associates less. 

The missing bottles of whiskey hadn’t gone unnoticed by their keen eyes, and the twins carefully crack open his bedroom door a fraction. He’s slumped over the large desk made of fine oak wood, a liquor bottle cracked open, and a glass in his hand. 

His ruby eyes are hazy and it’s clear he’s intoxicated. The little grumpy crow plushie was sitting on his desk, and his unfocused eyes were gazing in reminiscence at it while Mephisto glared at the soft toy in objection. 

“Boss?” Luke dares to approach him, and Sylus looks up sharply. 

“What?” The irritation in his voice is evident. 

“Um…Your meeting with the protocore dealer. He just left a message saying he hasn’t been able to get in touch with you and…” His voice falters as Sylus’s eyes glow like embers in a fireplace.

“He can wait.” The words are snarled as he downs the whiskey in a single gulp before pouring more. “Get out.”

Luke and Kieran retreat but they glance at each other despairingly. This was the N109 zone after all. Dealings with mafia leaders didn’t just get put on hold without consequences.

“Damn it all,” Sylus murmurs. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, and all he sees are your eyes, fixated on him in horror. He was used to the erratic atmospheric changes in the N109 zone but the night you left, it felt like he was being choked by the air, not a drop of oxygen left for him to breathe in. He knew he’d overdone it when threatening the merchant, knew he should have controlled himself from using his evol as cruelly as he had. But he needed the upper hand and the only way knew how to assert himself was through violence.  

He’d never hurt you. His precious little dove, his whole heart. But what you’d witnessed had left you terrified of him and his ominous abilities. Sylus had begged; his pride wasn’t so great as to risk losing you. He’d fallen to his knees, his arms locked around your waist, his cheek resting on your chest, listening to the way your heart was beating in your ribcage. It was hard to say how long the two of you had remained that way until you had gently disengaged from his grip, bid him goodbye, and left. He wasn’t deterred at first, calling and texting you desperately, sending gifts and bouquets to your door until you had called him and told him to stop. 

He drinks, feeling the heat and the sting of the whiskey as it goes down his throat, the only thing that helped with the pain. You were the sunlight in this dark world and without you, Sylus feels nothing except coldness. You were gone, the only blessing he’d ever received.

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[honeyed-nothings]

To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC

Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia | Special

Leona Kingscholar

𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.

𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.

𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.

𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.

𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.

“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Ruggie Bucchi

シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.

シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.

シ Wait a minute.

シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.

シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.

“You-…you’re really choosing me?”

Jack Howl

ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.

ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.

ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!

ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.

ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.

“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 5

Previous | Next

[Series Masterlist]

Content Warning: some cutesy shit

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

It started with her hands.

Not in the poetic, romantic way he was afraid it would, but in the way they moved when she was talking, fast and animated, like they had to help her get the words out. He’d noticed it the first time they presented a case together to the surgical team: how she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear mid-sentence without realizing it, how her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the chart when she was nervous.

It was subtle. Innocent. But it stuck.

Robby had made a career out of noticing things other people missed. That was his job—track vitals, patterns, bleeding underneath the surface. He wasn’t supposed to notice things like the way Dr. Williams tilted her head when she was listening, or how she smiled with one corner of her mouth first. But here he was.

And once he noticed Y/N, he couldn’t un-notice her.

She didn’t walk around the ER so much as moved through it—like she belonged, like the fluorescent lights had grown around her. She had this way of making space wherever she was, a quiet confidence that didn’t need to raise its voice. Robby didn’t know when exactly he’d started watching her more than was professionally necessary, but he was definitely past that point now.

They had been working together for a month now, and he found himself looking forward to it in a way that was deeply concerning.

Not that he was going to act on it.

He was 15 years her senior, and he didn’t date doctors. He’d made that mistake once, and he’d barely survived the fallout. The drama, the whispers, the impossible tension that hung over every shared shift. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

But Y/N was making it really fucking hard to remember why.

They had offered to swap to night shift to relieve some of the doctors attending Dr. Walsh’s wedding.

It was close to 2 a.m. when he caught her laughing in the hallway.

Not the polite kind, either. The real kind. Head thrown back, a hand on her stomach, laughter that startled even her. It echoed off the tile like something alive. Whittaker had made a joke—poorly, Robby assumed—and Y/N was clearly humoring him. But it worked.

Robby stood at the end of the corridor, chart in hand, pretending to scroll through labs while his brain tried to ignore the stupid little tug in his chest.

She saw him as the laughter faded, and her smile softened instantly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Didn’t know you were still human at this hour.”

“I transcend human after midnight,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

He didn’t answer right away. He was too caught in the way the soft overhead light hit her face, the way exhaustion looked almost... graceful on her.

“You should sit,” he finally said. “You’ve been running around since 7.”

“So have you.”

“I hide it better.”

“Debatable.” She smiled again, smaller now, but it still hit him like something he wasn’t ready for.

He looked away first.

They ended up restocking supplies together an hour later. It wasn’t assigned—just one of those unspoken things where they both show up in the same place at the same time when they’re not ready to face reality.

He watched her sort gauze and tongue depressors with unnecessary precision. She always did that when she was trying not to say something.

“You ever sleep?” he asked casually, leaning against the metal shelf.

“Not recently. I power nap. Like a cat.”

He smirked. “Should’ve guessed.”

“You?”

“Sleep?” He shrugged. “I try. Doesn’t always stick.”

There was a beat of quiet while she dropped a handful of saline flushes into the drawer.

“You’re different at night,” she said suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Less... sharp. More human.”

“Sharp?”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “During the day, you’re kind of intimidating. At night, you’re…” She trailed off, eyes flicking toward him.

“Less scary?”

“Still a little scary. But in a grumpy mentor kind of way.”

He chuckled, caught off guard by how warm that made him feel. “You trying to flatter me, Williams?”

“I’m just stating facts.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched her finish the drawer and close it with a soft click.

“Do I intimidate you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him, her expression soft. “Not the way you think.”

And then she left.

He stood there alone for a few seconds too long, staring at the now perfectly aligned drawer of saline flushes.

It wasn’t the way she said it that got to him—it was the look in her eyes. That she meant it. That something between them had shifted, almost imperceptibly, but real enough to make his chest feel uncomfortably tight.

He didn’t intimidate her.

Not the way he thought.

And for the first time in a long time, Robby wasn’t sure if that scared him—or made him want to keep following her down the hallway until she turned around and said whatever was really on her mind.

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah… it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[jane-the-good]

CALEB: reunited

WORD COUNT: 3.8K

SUMMARY: What happened right after you finally reunited, when you truly believed Caleb was dead

NOTE: If I reunited with my lover after I thought he was dead!!!! I would be a wreck!!!!

WARNING: smut, they're both crybabies (understandably), unprotected sex, oral, fingering, emo/angst, Caleb loves youuuuuuuu

AO3 caleb masterlist

I also made a CALEB sweater if that’s your thing ♡

“So, this is my place.” He holds the door open for you to step in first, when you’re ready. “This is where I’ve been.”

It’s strange…surreal. Even his voice hits you like a memory that never aged. This is Caleb. His tone, his rhythm, the tiny movements he makes when he talks. It’s all exactly the same. Like no time passed. Like he never died.

Except you know he did.

You held the grief like a second spine. You felt it twist and ache under your dead weight. You barely made it out with your breath intact. He was gone. You mourned him in pieces. The old voicemails, through pictures you couldn’t delete, through dreams that ended with you waking up sobbing into your hands.

But now, standing here with him in this ordinary, cozy space. It’s like none of that happened. Someone reached into your chest and pressed the undo button on the worst thing that ever happened to you.

It’s messing with your sense of reality.

You remember that you were in pain, but are no longer able to access the sharpness of it. Just a dull echo. A bruise of a memory.

The room around you smells faintly of cedar and the remnant of a bread or something baked. He must have made breakfast for himself this morning. It’s warm in the way places are when someone actually lives there. The space itself is sleek and almost too clean, but he’s turned it into a his own, effortlessly. There’s a rhythm to the dust and the clutter. A worn blanket is tossed over the back of a couch that looks like it’s hosted a thousand naps. Books on his side table, open to different pages, mid-thought.

“This doesn’t really look like a place you would like,” you say, trying to ground yourself in something, anything, normal.

He shrugs, like he knows exactly what you mean. “That’s not true. You know money has always been what I care most about. Everything I do is for material gain.”

You laugh, just a little. Because of course. That biting humor. That’s him. That was him. Still is.

“Yes, yeah. How could I forget.”

But you did forget. Or maybe you tried to. Maybe that was the only way to survive losing him in the first place.

And now here he is, in front of you again. Real. Breathing. Joking.

You’re not sure what hurts more. His death or this impossible return?

Your eyes catch on something small, something that doesn’t fit with the rest of this altered version of him. Something that doesn’t belong to this sterile, sarcastic, maybe half-stranger standing in front of you.

A music box.

It’s tucked on a shelf, almost like an afterthought, but your gaze locks onto it instantly. Carved wood, edges smoothed by time and touch. The finish is chipped at one corner, just slightly. You remember when that happened. A summer storm, a mad dash indoors, and Caleb had dropped it in the wet grass. You’d both cried.

You step toward it, drawn to it’s magnetic force. It’s calling your name in a language only the two of you spoke.

Delicately, you reach out and twist the knob.

The soft click of the mechanism turning awakens it’s heartbeat.

A tiny airplane, its wings worn at the tips, begins to spin slowly. And then the melody starts, thin and clear. So familiar. It burns.

The tune coils around your ribs, winding tighter with every note. You can feel it. In your history.

That was your life. That was him.

And now it’s here. In this room. In this house where he supposedly rebuilt himself without you.

Your Caleb, the one you loved, the one you lost…he lived here. Not some ghost wearing his skin. Not some cruel imitation.

He sat here. He touched this box. He listened to this melody. He was here, breathing, while you were somewhere else, cracking apart under the weight of his absence.

The realization doesn’t ask permission.

It surges forward and steals another moment from you.

A silent sob punches through you, breaking your wave of ache against the sharpest rock. Your knees buckle, and before you can catch yourself, you're sinking, into the sound, into the past, into everything you never got to say.

He was here.

And you weren’t.

You cover your mouth, the emotion too much, too sudden. The ache of mourning, the sheer weight of what you lost, and didn’t really lose, floods you into a storm you can’t outrun.

Then he’s there. No hesitation, no questions. Just arms around you, pulling you in. He holds you and tries to find every shattered piece of you lost the moment he left.

He pulls you in, arms strong and sure, cradling your body like something sacred, if he lets go for even a second, you’ll vanish again. His grip trembles, not from weakness but from the unbearable relief of holding what he thought he lost forever.

You cling to him just as tightly, fists curled into the fabric of his shirt like anchors. Your tears soak into him, silent and shaking, and he doesn't flinch. Instead, he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in like it’s the first breath he’s taken in years.

“I’m here,” he whispers, the words breaking over your skin. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m so sorry, God, I’m so sorry.”

His apologies melt into the curve of your neck, whispered like prayers he doesn’t expect to be answered. You feel the heat of him, the trembling restraint in the way he holds you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, trying to speak, trying to form words that don’t exist yet. But he goes on, because he has to. Because if he stops now, maybe it’ll swallow him whole.

“I tried to find safe ways to get word to you,” he says. You feel the tremor in his chest, the regret dragging his words down.

You pull back slightly, enough to see his face. His eyes are glassy, like he’s been holding it in for years. Maybe he has.

“I thought you were dead,” you say, your voice cracking. “I grieved you. I buried you. I didn’t just miss you, I lost you.”

“I know,” Caleb says, like the words physically wound him. “And I should’ve died. I should’ve. But I didn’t. And every day I was alive and not with you… I was living someone else’s life.”

You blink fast, trying to stay grounded, but your hands are shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me once you were safe? You could’ve found a way. You had to know what it was doing to me.”

“I thought I was keeping you safe.” His voice is so hoarse. “I thought if I stayed away, you could heal, move on, build a life that wasn’t tangled up in everything I’d ruined.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you snap, voice sharp through the tears. “You were everything. You still are. You don’t get to decide for me what I can handle.”

Caleb swallows hard, looking away like it hurts to hold your gaze. “I know. I know now. Back then… I wasn’t strong enough to face you.” He kisses your forehead. “I didn’t even want the strength to leave you behind. I still don’t.”

You’re both quiet for a long beat, just breathing each other in.

Then softly, “You’re here now.”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m here. And if you’ll let me… I’ll never disappear again.”

His hand lifts to your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye with a tenderness that draws your gaze. The pain is still there in both of you, mangled with want.

You close your eyes, forehead pressed to his, the soft warmth of his breath brushing your lips. It’s too much, his return, the way his hands tremble just slightly on your knees This lingering heaviness

He draws back, just far enough to see your face. There’s a stunned silence that settles. in the air.

When his lips finally find yours, It’s not gentle. Not hesitant. It's a collision. The time of silence and sorrow and longing crash into you, pouring out in a kiss that’s too full of feeling to be quiet.

It’s everything you couldn’t say, everything he couldn’t send. The ache of loss. The fury. The desperate joy of finding each other again.

You press into him with that same hunger, matching the urgency in the way his hands fist in your shirt, pulling you closer, like he's still not convinced this is real. You taste the salt of your own tears on his lips, feel the way his breath stutters against your mouth.

There’s no logic here. No plan. Just heat, emotion, and the fragile sound of two hearts trying to find their rhythm again.

He breaks the kiss only to look at you. His forehead resting against yours, eyes searching like he needs confirmation that this is still happening.

“I thought I’d never get this back,” he murmurs, his voice frayed and low. “Not even a piece of you.”

You tilt into him, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer like you’re afraid he’ll vanish again if you let go. His breath stutters when you pull, a low, helpless sound slipping from his throat as he kisses you deeper, hungrier. There’s a kind of reverence in the way he holds you, like he’s rediscovering a language he once forgot how to speak. You’re the only word that matters.

His hands splay wide across your back, palms warm and firm as he presses you fully against him. It’s familiar but heavier this time, threaded with all the ache of everything unsaid, every second you thought he was gone. You feel it in the way your mouths move together, in the way your bodies don’t just touch, they cling. breath returning after years underwater.

When the kiss finally breaks, your foreheads stay pressed together, panting softly in the dark hush. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone, lingering as though your skin might vanish if he looks away.

“You’re still the same,” he says, wonder thick in his voice. “Still my person. Even after all this time.”

His hands slide lower, palms sifting under the hem of your shirt, his touch dragging like warm static over your spine. The room shifts around you, distant and quiet, the only things that matter are the points where your bodies meet.

The stars stretch wide through the high windows, Skyhaven glittering below like a city made of memories. And somewhere in those clouds and the weightless quiet of space, you’re suspended together, still, yet undone.

Caleb trails his fingers over the small of your back, drawing slow, searching shapes, then dips lower. His grip tightens on you, possessive and sure, and the soft growl that hums from his throat makes you shiver.

His mouth finds your neck, kissing and grazing until his teeth brush the delicate skin. You gasp, your head tipping back into his hands as he lingers there, just long enough to leave a memory on your skin.

“How did you miss me?” he murmurs, voice low and rough. His lips brush your pulse. “Did you miss me… or how I made you feel?”

Your breath shakes. “What kind of question is that?”

“A dangerous one,” he says, chuckling softly against your throat. “Because I already know the answer.”

You arch into him, fingers gripping his shirt, needing something to hold onto. He drags his mouth up to your ear, his breath a slow exhale that sends a tremble through your spine.

“Did thinking of me do this to you?” he whispers, hand sliding down to grip your thigh, your hip, pulling you even closer. “Tell me.”

He trails kisses down your chest and down your stomach, occasionally his gaze locks with yours, and in it, there’s devotion. You don’t intend for him to silence you like this. He’s in awe. Like he’s watching a dream move beneath his hands and is terrified it’ll dissolve. Even when he pulls your underwear down, his expression softens. And when pulling your knees over his shoulders, lthe tension sparks dangerously. 

He kisses your heat gentle at first, savoring the fact that you’re real and his and here. You breathe his name, voice wrecked and unraveling, and his smile at the sound is everything. Lazy, knowing, devastating.

He looks up at you with fire and wonder in his eyes.

“I’m going to make up for every second I was gone,” he promises, voice a quiet vow against your skin.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm, sending shivers up your spine, racing down a fuse. His shoulders, once always held too tightly, now loosened. Like he can finally breathe again. Like you are the breath he’s been holding for far too long.

Your hands slide up into his hair, fingers twisting at the roots, tugging until he groans. Deep and needy. The vibration of it floods straight into your core. You’re trembling, heat pooling in your belly, legs already unsteady from the way his mouth moves over you, each deliberate stroke of his tongue dragging you closer to the edge until he slows, just when you need more.

"Caleb," you whisper, your voice cracking open around his name, desperate and soft and wrecked.

He lifts his head just enough to let your name fall from his lips in return, voice thick and unsteady. “You have no idea how much I missed hearing you say my name like that.”

His breath, warm and teasing, ghosts across your skin. There’s that smirk again, cocky and confident, but tinged with something deeper. Something in love. His tounghe dips just enough to make your breath catch, teasing your entrance before pulling away again. You sob softly in frustration.

But Caleb only smiles against you, the curve of his lips making your skin burn. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He always did.

With maddening slowness, he slides his thumb to your bundle of nerves to tease you, pressing just the barest pressure. Your body jolts, muscles tightening around him. You whimper, thighs clenching around his head as your hips grind into him.

“and all this time you haven’t been with anyone else?” he murmurs, almost smug, almost reverent. “God, how lucky I am.”

And then he presses harder. His tongue flickers and lingers, alternating between kissing you softly and licking you with purpose, until your back arches off the floor, your whole body trembling in his hold. Every nerve is alight. Every sound you make fuels him.

His eyes, dark with want, are shining with something else too. Wonder. Like he’s still not convinced this isn’t a dream. Like he’s afraid if he blinks, you’ll vanish all over again.

“I almost lost this,” he says, voice rough, aching. “I almost lost you.”

“Come for me, love. I need you.”

You let go with a gasp that splits the silence, pleasure ripping through you in waves so strong they shake you through your core. You dissolve under his hands, under his mouth, under the weight of being seen, of being wanted with such intensity. Caleb holds you through every second, grounding you as your body shudders, your chest heaving with each breathless moan.

Before the aftershocks have even faded, he’s already kissing you, slow, tender, full of awe. He drinks in every sound you make, every tiny shiver, his mouth moving against yours like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your soul.

His fingers remain between your thighs, now soaked with your release, drawing lazy, featherlight circles that make your legs twitch from the oversensitivity. He’s savoring this. Every inch of you, every reaction.

You barely get the chance to breathe before he shifts, steady hands gripping your thighs as he slots his hips between them. He works at his pants with a smooth efficiency, kissing you when he can because he can’t bear to stop, and before you know it, he’s guiding you onto his lap.

Your knees slide to either side of him, bracketing his hips. The heat of him, thick and hard against your slick folds, makes you shiver. You gasp, startled, overwhelmed all over again.

Caleb groans, deep and broken. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as if anchoring himself to the moment. “God, I missed this. Missed you.”

He grinds your hips down, slow and deliberate, dragging your body against his, letting you feel just how badly he needs you. His forehead falls against yours, and he breathes you in.

“I’m never leaving you again,” he murmurs. “Not after this. Not after knowing what it’s like to go without you.”

And then, with a look of complete heat and worship, he sinks you onto him.

The roughness of the carpet brushes against your knees, a faint burn you barely register. All you can focus on is the way he draws you close, grounding you in the quiet rhythm of his body, the soft gasp that escapes your lips as he wraps you in his warmth. His breath catches too, his hands strong at your waist, steadying, anchoring.

He groans low, lips pressed against yours, swallowing the trembling sounds you make, and your forehead falls gently to his, breaths mingling. His fingers flex at your side, trying to memorize the shape of you, and when he brushes his mouth over yours again, slow, tender, it’s a delicious contrast to the weight of his grip, he’s afraid to let go.

You hear him laugh softly, the sound vibrating in your chest where your heart beats wildly against his. One hand finds the back of your neck, tilting your head back so your eyes meet his.

Your chest aches in the best way. You cradle his face in your hands, guiding his lips to yours. The kiss that follows is unhurried and deep, filled with all the words you don’t need to say.

"Goodness," you whisper against his mouth, teasing again.

He only grins, then gently lifts your leg higher around him, deepening the angle between you both. You gasp, your head tipping back, his name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he murmurs, watching you with quiet intensity.

His rhythm is deliberate, drawing pleasure from you like a melody he knows by heart. The windows blur behind you, starlight scattered across the sky, but none of it compares to the warmth shared with you, the connection humming through every nerve.

Suddenly he moves, sitting up and sweeping you beneath him in one fluid motion. You gasp, startled, but he’s already leaning over you, his weight settling into you in his controlled gravity. His gaze is fire and softness all at once, his lips brushing yours as his rhythm shifts, slower but deeper, as though he’s searching for the very center of you.

You hold onto him, your arms around his shoulders, hands clutching at his back like you might fall apart without him. When you say his name again, it breaks something open in him, a sound torn from his throat as he presses his forehead to yours, his voice rough with emotion.

"God, please never stop," he breathes, reverent.

His lips find your skin, tasting each moment like a promise, while his hand finds yours again, grounding you both in that steady connection. His touch is sure, guiding you to the edge and catching you when you fall, because you do, unraveling beneath him, every part of you undone by the depth of what you feel.

He follows with a low groan, his body shuddering with release, and for a moment everything stills, your breath, your thoughts, the world itself.

You cling to him as the wave passes, hands clutching fabric, breaths catching. His arms stay around you, firm, desperate to hold on.

And you let him.

You both stay, hearts racing, bodies trembling, until the world returns, slower, softer, together. The world feels quieter.

Light spills through the windows in long, golden beams that stretch across the floor like warm ribbons, casting gentle shadows that sway with the breeze. There’s a stillness in the air, not empty, but full. The breath you take after crying.

The plane carousel creaks as it turns lazily. Its chipped red paint glints faintly in the light, worn and weathered, but still beautiful in its resilience. You watch it spin, a slow, stubborn circle, wobbly and imperfect, and your heart swells for it. For everything it is, and everything it still tries to be.

You reach out and give the plane a gentle push. It spins a little faster, and you smile to yourself.

Caleb eases down beside you with a low, familiar groan, his body’s trying to keep up with his heart. His knee bumps yours, and he lets it rest there, anchoring you, grounding you both in the present.

He exhales, quiet. Then, in that smooth, unhurried voice of his, he says, “You know… I used to think moments like this weren’t meant for me.”

You glance over.

He’s not looking at the carousel anymore. He’s looking at you.

“That real peace…” he continues, his tone honey-warm, low and steady, “real love… always felt like something for other people. Something I could look at, maybe touch, but never keep.”

There’s something in his gaze that hits you deep,  he’s looking through you, past everything you’ve built to protect yourself, and still chooses you anyway.

“But I get to have my this,” he says, the words like velvet, soft and sure. “I get to have you.”

You swallow hard, throat tight with emotion. Before you can reply, he leans in, brushing a kiss against your temple, slow, lingering, like he’s imprinting the shape of you into his memory. Like he’s telling you, wordlessly, that he never wants to forget this.

“I’m just…” he breathes, still close, his lips barely grazing your skin, “so thankful. For all of it. Even when we’re just sitting here… watching this old, wobbly carousel try its best to keep turnin.”

You smile, soft and amused. “It’s not broken,” you murmur. “It’s just… loved.”

A quiet laugh shakes through his chest, and he wraps his arms around you from the side, pulling you against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His embrace is gentle, sure, with a kind of protective softness that says he never wants to let go.

He leans in again, voice brushing your ear like silk. “Yeah”

For a while, you don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

Because the way his fingers trace idle shapes along your arm, the way his breath syncs with yours, the way his presence wraps around you like a favorite blanket, this is everything.

[ageingfangirl2]

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 11: A NORMAL DAY AT THE OFFICE

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN TWELVE THIRTEEN

The office was tranquil that morning. The usual tension in the air had been replaced with a calm hum of normal office work. The sun filtered softly through the windows, and the hum of computers and the occasional flipping of papers were the only sounds filling the space.

You were sitting behind the desk, sorting through some documents and checking your email. Your new kitten, Bonten, was napping in a small box beside you, claiming it as his throne. Now and then, you’d glance at him, his little paws twitching in his sleep, and it brought a tiny smile to your face.

Across the room, Mikey was leaning back in his chair, casually scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t usually one to be bogged down by paperwork, so today was a bit of a break for him. His feet were up on the desk, an unbothered look on his face as he occasionally glanced up at the others.

Sanzu had his feet propped up on the desk next to Mikey’s, chewing on the end of a pencil while watching you. His gaze lingered on you for a few moments before he finally spoke.

‘Hey, have you noticed how the office’s a lot more peaceful now that you’re around?’ he grinned mischievously, tapping the end of the pencil on his desk, though his tone was light.

You roll your eyes without even looking up, already knowing where this was going, ‘I’ve only been here a few weeks. Don’t get too used to it.’

Sanzu chuckled, ‘What, you mean you don’t want to become the office’s official peacekeeper?’ He leaned forward, trying to catch your eye, ‘I think you’re doing a great job. You haven’t even started pranking anyone yet.’

‘Don’t give me ideas,’ you grin, eyes twinkling mischievously as you pull a stapler out of your desk drawer, holding it up, ‘I might start with this. Don’t mess with my stuff.’

Sanzu raised his hands defensively, still smiling, ‘Alright, alright. I’ll keep it safe. But you can’t blame a guy for trying to stir up some fun around here.’

Across the room, Ran was leaning back in his chair, the perfect picture of laziness as he fiddled with his phone. He overheard the exchange and chimed in with his usual bored tone.

‘Pranks, huh? You’d better be careful. We’ve got a few members here who’ll take it too far, and then it’s game over.’

‘Like you?’ Rindou teased from the other side of the room, throwing a wadded-up piece of paper at his brother, ‘I saw you hide a whoopee cushion under Koko’s chair last week.’

Ran smirked, clearly unbothered, ‘It wasn’t that bad. He walked away with his pride, and I got a laugh. Win-win.’

Rindou rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips, ‘You’re insufferable.’

‘And proud of it,’ Ran shot back with a wink.

Over at the other side of the room, Kakucho was quietly typing away at his computer, handling something that seemed more official than the playful banter around him. Despite his normally reserved demeanour, he couldn’t help but glance up as Koko sauntered into the office, a takeaway coffee in hand.

‘I swear, if you keep drinking that stuff, you’ll be bouncing off the walls before lunch,’ Kakucho commented dryly, his fingers still tapping away on his keyboard.

Koko laughed and waved him off, taking a dramatic sip from his cup, ‘Please, I need it to survive this place. Can’t you see how thrilling it is here today?’ He gestured vaguely at the scene around him, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mikey looked up briefly, adding in with a casual smirk, ‘Yeah, the most thrilling thing today is who can finish their reports fastest. Should we make a bet?’

‘I’ll bet you can’t finish the stack of paperwork in the next 30 minutes,’ Koko challenged.

Mikey shot him a playful grin, then made a face of mock offence, ‘You think I can’t? What’s this, a challenge? Fine. I’ll make it fun for you.’ He grabbed the pile of papers off the desk and started skimming through them.

‘You’re so full of yourself,’ Koko muttered under his breath, but there was no mistaking the admiration in his voice. Mikey was good at everything — even something as dull as paperwork.

At the receptionist's desk, you watched the playful back-and-forth with a smile, enjoying the lighthearted moments they were all sharing. It wasn’t often that the world of Bonten slowed down like this. Normally, they were running from one crisis to another, dodging police, and handling the underworld's dirtier dealings. But today, it was just...normal. Just them.

‘You guys need to learn how to relax,’ you tease, watching Mikey stack the papers with a speed that seemed almost unfair.

‘We do,’ Sanzu added, still lounging in his chair, ‘But sometimes, the best way to relax is to mess with the people around you.’

‘Or drink coffee,’ Koko added, gesturing to his cup.

‘Or make bets,’ Ran chimed in, throwing his arm around his brother’s shoulders, ‘You know, standard office activities’

Everyone chuckled lightly, the camaraderie thick in the air. Even Kakucho, usually the serious one, allowed himself a brief smile as the atmosphere stayed light. There was no tension in the room, no immediate threat, just Bonten being Bonten — strange, chaotic, and full of personality.

As the day went on, you found yourself caught up in more small talk, with the occasional lighthearted prank. Sanzu tried to steal your stapler, Ran made fun of your paperwork organisation, and Koko tried to offer you his coffee again, despite her repeatedly turning him down.

But it felt nice. It was an ordinary day, one without danger or high stakes. And, for once, everyone got to just enjoy it.

‘Alright, alright,’ you say after a while, getting up from your desk, ‘I’ve got to get back to work. I’m not the one who started this coffee break.’

Mikey’s grin flashed once more, his eyes gleaming with amusement, ‘That’s because you’re the only one who works around here.’

‘Hey, don’t forget who’s handling all the paper pushing,’ you tease, holding up a folder full of documents.

With a wave, you returned to your desk, the playful chatter continuing as the rest of Bonten returned to their usual antics. Today, no one was talking about crime or business, just about how much they could get away with. It was just another day at Bonten.

Mochi enters the office, his expression as calm as always, though there's a subtle shift in his demeanour when he notices the playful atmosphere. The usual quiet hum of the office is replaced with easy chatter, teasing, and jokes. He barely reacts at first, though there's a quiet raise of his brow as he watches Sanzu half-heartedly make a mess of paperwork, Ran and Rindou laughing over some playful sibling banter, and Mikey lounging with his feet up, apparently unbothered by the chaos.

As he walks further into the room, he notices you sitting at your desk, a small smile on your face as you watch the antics unfold. You look up at him as he approaches, and he gives you a brief nod.

‘Nice to see you’re not getting caught in the madness,’ he says with his usual cool tone, but there's an underlying hint of amusement in his voice, ‘Not that I mind, but this office…it feels like a circus when I'm not around, doesn't it?’

You chuckle and glance around at the others, ‘You could say that. The mood’s a little more laid-back today.’

Mochi’s eyes flicker over to Mikey and Sanzu, both of whom seem far too comfortable with the chaos. ‘You sure about that?’ he asks with a small smirk, ‘Seems like there’s a bit too much playtime going on without us here to keep things in check.’

He doesn’t seem bothered by it, just a little bemused. Mochi is always so observant and never one to outwardly show much emotion, but his thoughts are clear. He’s not the type to be impressed by chaos, but he does notice the shift in the dynamics when he and Takeomi are absent. While everyone else is in a playful mood, he’s the steady, grounding force who isn’t easily swayed.

Before he takes his usual seat, he gives a small nod to Takeomi as he enters, subtly signalling his thoughts on the matter. They’d have a quiet, almost private conversation about how things seem to change when they’re not around.

Takeomi enters the office with his usual no-nonsense attitude, though it’s obvious he notices the lighthearted vibe almost immediately. He steps into the room, his sharp eyes scanning the situation — Mikey lounging, Ran and Rindou playfully arguing, Sanzu tossing papers around. Even Kakucho, typically reserved, is letting himself relax a little.

He stops just inside the door, looking around with a slight furrow of his brow, ‘What’s all this?’ he asks, his voice quiet but carrying that edge of irritation that comes from being the only one who seems to take things seriously, ‘Everyone’s so damn relaxed. Feels like I missed something.’

Mochi, already seated and half-smirking, glances at him and then back at the group, clearly amused but too collected to outwardly show much, ‘Seems like they’re having fun. Maybe you’re the one who’s missing out.’

Takeomi glares at him for a moment, though it’s not a serious look. He just doesn’t like how everyone’s so carefree when he’s not around. ‘No one’s taking their jobs seriously today. This is why I have to come in and keep everything together.’ His eyes flick to you, who’s trying to hide a smile behind your hand.

‘What, you think they wouldn’t start playing around if I weren’t here?’ He gestures to the rest of the group, his tone dripping with sarcasm, ‘Look at them. It’s like a daycare in here.’

Ran, overhearing him, grins widely, ‘What’s wrong, Takeomi? Getting a little jealous because we’re having fun without you?’

Rindou leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, ‘He’s just mad we’re not stressed out over nothing.’

Takeomi glares at them both, but his annoyance doesn’t last long. He leans against the wall and folds his arms, clearly not pleased with the lack of serious work being done.

‘Fine, whatever. You all are the ones who’ll end up behind. I’ll make sure to pick up the slack.’

Despite his irritation, Takeomi has a dry sense of humour, and even though he’s a little put off by the lack of focus, there’s a hint of understanding there. He knows it’s harmless fun — even if it annoys him. His gaze shifts to the receptionist again.

‘Guess someone has to get things back on track…’ he mutters to you, his tone less abrasive than it had been earlier. ‘If you’re free later, maybe you can help me organise the reports. We’ve got some real work to get to.’

You nod, trying to hide your smile, ‘You know I’ve got you covered, Takeomi.’

‘Good,’ he says, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he finally relaxes a little, ‘Someone here has to be the responsible one.’

[anystalker707]

I need you with me

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: After the Marineford events, all that Ace needs is some love. Tags: ace is recovering, so he needs you to be gentle / he's so sweet / lots of fluff / universe in which ace survived marineford A/n: thanks sm for the request, anon <3 sorry for taking long

Requested by anon [Hello, amazing writer! If you are doing requests, could you do Ace x female reader where Ace gets all the love and pets and praise he so deserves. I just finished Marineford and I have...feelings]

MASTERLIST

          Everyone was shaken up after the events in Marineford, still trying to process everything that had happened, without much success. It wasn’t just a lot to process but also left everyone in a shocked state that would take time to wear out. Luffy had even spent a while with the Whitebeard Pirates to ensure his brother would be alright before he had to go back to following his path. By that time, the commotion had also died within the crew itself, it was finally time to have your boyfriend all to yourself again.

The wound that once covered the center of his chest and back was now only two violent scars decorating his skin, only adding to his charm, if anything. You wondered if anything could make Ace ugly, and it was hard to determine something that would make him permanently unattractive, so you dropped it.

Ace was lying on his side with his back to you, taking yet another nap in the dark cabin that blocked the sunlight by the thick blackout curtains. Napping was something he’d been doing rather a lot, aside from the spontaneous times he would fall asleep. The Marineford event took quite a toll on him, both physically and mentally, so it was no surprise he found comfort in sleep and quietness now that the euphoria had died down. Not surprisingly, he also grew clingy after that.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you walked over, observing the scar on Ace’s back as you sat on the bed, careful not to wake him up. His skin rose in shivers at the slightest touch upon his scar, but he didn’t even move in his sleep, continuing to softly snore away. Your heart heaved a little, but it’d been like that for so long that it was pointless to dive into sadness for longer.

Your mind didn’t leave you alone for the few seconds you kept your eyes closed, replaying parts of the Summit War, even though you’d gone through it multiple times already. It was tiring, clinging to your skin like mud that you couldn’t clean off, dragging you down, but you could still feel the normality slowly making its way back into your lives, thankfully.

Ace smelled like a mixture of your smell along with his own, which was quite characteristic, and always left a very well-welcomed lingering scent on your bed. His smell filled your lungs as you pressed your nose to the back of his ear and inhaled deeply before finally lying down with him and hugging him from behind. Only then did he groan a little, shifting a little to make himself comfortable next to you. He was warm, back moving against your chest rhythmically. It was good to feel him like that next to you, alive and well, helping you fight the feeling he would disappear in case you looked away for too long.

“Love,” Ace murmured in a whiny tone that popped your bubble and brought you back to the real world to be embraced by the warmth he made you feel. “Mmph, babe,” he whispered with a groan that dissipated into a sigh of comfort the moment you pressed a kiss to his cheek and hugged him tighter.

“Yes, my love?” You whispered against his cheek when he started stirring awake, humming drowsily as he patted around until his hand found the side of your head and kept you there to turn his head and messily kiss your face. His eyes were still closed as his lips met the space above your upper lip, and then your cheek—that was the only response you received as he gently played with your hair a little.

“I had a dream with you,” he whispered, eyes still closed, but you could tell he was a little less than half asleep by then. “We were… Uh, I forgot.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head, while running a hand through Ace’s messy hair strands in a fruitless attempt to push them back into place. “Okay. The fact you dreamed with me is good enough.”

Ace pouted with a hum as he shifted on the bed so that he was on his back, allowing himself to take a look at you. He finally opened his eyes and blinked until the blurred form before him turned into a clear image of you, which made him smile. “Mmph, babe,” he whispered in a happy tone that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so cute like this, all sleepy, all comfy.” Your lips parted into a grin before you kissed his cheek. “I really just want to— Damn.” Instead of fighting your urges, you just cupped his cheek and kissed all over his face until he was giggling and wrapping his arms around you, swinging one of them lazily around your neck.

“Hey, what’s that for?” Ace groaned softly and kissed your cheek a couple of times, planting kisses on the way to your lips, where he lingered for a few seconds.

“I just want to pamper my pretty boy, am I not allowed to?”

Whenever you called him ‘pretty boy’, Ace’s heart fluttered, and he felt all bubbly inside, so full of himself that he believed he could face the entire world if he really wanted to. He smiled as his cheeks gained a red tone, and he melted under the new kisses over his face.

“Sometimes I wonder if I can kiss each of your freckles,” you said as your fingertips trailed along the freckles on his shoulder; they descended for all his body and imprinted constellations upon his skin.

Ace hummed, raising one of his eyebrows at you. “Well, if you want to try… I wouldn’t be opposed to it, babe.”

“Hm, right,” you muttered with a smile, kissing his forehead. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Just the idea of it seemed to get Ace a little eager, grinning as he allowed you to keep bathing him with compliments and caressing. He sighed and leaned into your touches, groaning when you started running your fingers through his hair again. Playing with his hair could easily drive Ace to sleep, but it wasn’t your intention, so you pulled your hand away as soon as he started closing his eyes, much to his displeasure.

“Have you eaten today?” It was a question that usually would be useless, really—his huge appetite dismissed any worry about his intake of food, but that was before the Summit War. After that, the pain and stress of carrying Roger’s blood in his hands took upon him again, and there he was, believing he didn’t deserve any care in the world. Sometimes, the guilt would still drag along the sad smiles he flashed you whenever you gave him affection, but it was growing considerably lower through time. You hoped that, someday, he wouldn’t feel like his life was a burden.

A soft hum came from Ace as he rubbed his eye, looking away, immediately snatching a sigh from you.

“Come on, Ace, love, you’re better than that.” You looked at the bedside table, noticing a tray of food sitting there. It’d probably been brought for lunch, a couple of hours ago. “Look, there’s even some ramen here. Why don’t you try it? Or do you want fresh food? You know everyone is doing their best for you, try to eat a little bit, pretty boy.” You kissed the tip of his nose, making him scrunch his nose with a small sound.

“Will you stay with me for the rest of the day?” Ace’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you with those eyes, enough to make your heart heavy. “You’ve been busy all day long, only checking on me now and then. I like having you around, even if I’m just napping. I like your presence.”

A sigh escaped your nose as you heard Ace, frowning a little at his words. You should’ve done better, really. “Okay,” you said with a nod. “I’ll go let Pops know I’m spending the rest of the day with you, okay? Don’t move a single finger while I go there! I’ll know if you do!”

When Ace chuckled, something stirred in your chest, spreading warmth all within it.

“Okay! But give me another kiss before you leave and more when you come back, okay?” Ace’s arms wrapped tighter around your neck, making you roll your eyes before pressing your lips to his gently. He didn’t seem to be a big fan of the light kiss, instead deepening the kiss with a soft hum, keeping your lips together until you were both out of air.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Close Enough Part 3

The apartment was quiet, except for the low hum of the heater and the occasional sniffle from you, curled up in a mountain of blankets on the couch. Your hoodie sleeves were pulled over your hands, a box of tissues sat by your side, and a half finished cup of coffee rested on the table…lukewarm now, forgotten between naps.

From the kitchen, Nika’s quiet humming drifted in, off key and absentminded, like she wasn’t really aware she was doing it. She was making you another cup of coffee even though you hadn’t asked. You never had to ask. Not with her.

You let your eyes drift to the little details that always felt like home…her sneakers by the door, her textbook cracked open but untouched on the counter, the way she wore her hoodie half zipped over her practice tank like she couldn’t be bothered to choose between comfort and routine.

She came back with the coffee and set it down without a word, crouching beside the couch to fluff your pillow. It was such a small thing, but the tenderness in her touch made your chest ache a little.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

You nodded, voice too hoarse to say much. “Just tired.”

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead before she could stop herself. Her fingertips lingered just a second too long. “Still warm” she murmured.

You watched her carefully. “You don’t have to hang around you know.”

“What..” she said, immediately defensive…but her voice was too soft to make it stick. “I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

“You’ve been making sure I’m okay all day.”

She looked down, her hands folding in her lap. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I would.”

A beat passed.

She stood slowly and sat on the floor beside the couch, back resting against it, legs stretched out in front of her. She picked at the edge of a blanket that had slipped off. Her shoulder barely brushed your knee through the fabric. The silence stretched comfortably, thick with something unsaid.

“You missed your workout,” you said after a while.

She shrugged without looking at you. “It’s whatever. They’ll survive without me for one day.”

You smiled faintly. “You’re usually so dramatic when you miss leg day.”

She let out a low laugh. “Maybe I like you more than I like squats.”

You blinked.

She froze.

There was a pause, too long for a joke.

Nika’s head tilted back against the couch cushion with a sigh, and she squeezed her eyes shut like she wished she could rewind time five seconds.

You swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I said,” she began, eyes still shut “that you owe me for making me miss squats.”

You laughed quietly, raspy but amused. “That is not what you said.”

Nika cracked one eye open and gave you a halfhearted smirk. “Must be the fever messing with your hearing.”

You nudged her shoulder weakly with your foot. “Nika.”

She sighed again and let her head fall to the side, resting it against your blanket-covered thigh. “I said… maybe I like you more than I like squats. Okay? There. Happy?”

Your fingers stilled around the blanket, heart kicking up a little. “You like me?”

She was quiet for a beat. Then: “Yeah. Kind of a lot.”

You blinked down at her. She looked up at you from your lap, eyes full of something fragile and nervous and honest. And even though your head was still fuzzy, you were suddenly more awake than you’d felt all day.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that” she said, her voice soft. “I just…when you’re sick like this, and I get to take care of you, it feels like… like something I already want to be doing forever. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

You were quiet for a long moment.

Then, softly, you reached down and threaded your fingers into her hair.

“It makes sense,” you murmured.

Nika’s whole body went still. Her cheek warmed against your leg.

You didn’t say anything else at first. Neither did she. There was no rush…just the sound of your fingers slowly, gently combing through her hair. She closed her eyes. Her lashes fluttered like she was trying not to let the moment sweep her away, but it already had.

“I’ve been trying so hard not to mess this up,” she whispered eventually, voice barely audible.

“Mess what up?” you asked, though you knew.

“This. Us. Living together, being close like this. It already means so much to me, and I didn’t want to ruin it by… wanting more.”

You smiled faintly, eyes soft. “But you do want more.”

She opened her eyes slowly and tilted her head up to look at you. There was something raw in her expression…like she was afraid, but also a little hopeful.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I want more.”

You studied her face. The girl who always made you laugh when you were grumpy. Who remembered how you took your coffee and always saved you the last bite of takeout. The one who snuck little notes into your backpack during finals week. The one who, for months now, you’d felt pulling closer and didn’t know how to name it.

“I don’t think you’re ruining anything,” you said gently. “If anything… you just gave it a name.”

She looked at you like she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming.

“Come up here,” you said softly, shifting the blanket.

She hesitated, almost like she was scared to accept what was happening. But then she moved, slowly, crawling up beside you on the couch. Careful. Like you might disappear if she moved too fast.

You tucked the blanket around both of you. Her hand found yours beneath it, fingers brushing first, then lacing together like it had always been meant to happen. She rested her head against your shoulder, your feverish body curled into hers.

There was a silence between you now, but it felt different…full, not empty. And in that quiet, you let yourself believe that maybe this was the start of something you’d both been quietly waiting for.

After a moment, she whispered, “I didn’t expect today to go like this.”

You smiled, sleepy against her. “Me neither.”

“But I’m not complaining.”

You laughed a little, nose stuffy and all. “You better not. You skipped squats for this.”

She squeezed your hand.

“For you” she corrected, voice barely above a whisper.

And you felt it then…how easy it was to let your head rest against hers, how natural it was to be here, tangled up together on the couch with the weight of a quiet confession between you. Something that didn’t feel risky anymore…just real.

And maybe, in the morning, you’d talk about it again. Maybe you’d tell her about the moments you’d caught her looking and wondered if she felt it too. But for now, in the quiet of the heater and her soft hand in yours, you just closed your eyes and let her stay.

[yumelatte]

His Highness, Your Meowjesty - Chapter Two

Guard Cat

As the car’s headlights flashed in your eyes, you thought of one thing: In your next life, you wanted to be rich. You had said that, but you didn’t want to be a cat!

In which you wake up in the body of a cat with your past memories and befriend the kingdom’s crown prince, Mydei.

Fantasy Isekai AU

AO3 Link

Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter | 2: Guard Cat | Next Chapter ->

Slowly regaining consciousness, your eyes opened, surprised at the sharp vision of the dark room. 

That was right; you were a cat, and as one, your eyes were better than humans. 

You didn’t realize it had become so late. 

So much for a nap. It was more like a sleep. 

Standing up from your comfortable spot, you stretched out your body to alleviate the tension in your limbs. 

The uncovered window provided faint moonlight to the dimmed place, and you wondered why there were no barriers. 

Wasn’t it dangerous to leave it open like that? 

You pondered that question, staring at Mydei’s peaceful expression while tilting your head. 

He doesn’t seem concerned about it, so neither should you. 

Maybe your new owner had no enemies. That was a welcoming thought because if he had no enemies, that means no one would try to kill you. You could live a long and prosperous life being his feline companion. 

Purring at the realization that you have chosen well, you hopped off Mydei’s chest and nimbly landed on the floor. 

It wouldn’t hurt to familiarize yourself with your surroundings; after all, this was where you were going to be living the rest of your life. 

Observing the different furniture in a new perspective was weird, but you mapped them out in case you needed the knowledge. 

As you explored the rest of the area, your ears twitched, hearing a slight noise coming from the window. 

They say curiosity killed the cat, but you say satisfaction brought it back. 

Blending in with the shadows and sneaking your way over to under the wall’s opening, you remained there, patiently waiting to hear more. 

After a moment, you heard something… or someone…

With your ears perked up, you heard indistinct voices coming from outside. 

“Did you bring everything?” 

“Yeah, do you think I’m dumb or something?” 

“Yeah, I do. Last time, you forgot to bring the knife. How do we kill without a weapon? That was embarrassing. We had to retreat.” 

“Well, we have our hands, don’t we?” 

“Yeah, and I’d like to see you choke out someone like him without him waking up.” 

Assassins? This late in the night? No… 

You had been wrong; Mydei did have enemies, and they were at his doorstep.

No, you couldn’t let them take him away from you! He was your saving grace from the streets. You need to stop them right now. 

Pressing yourself against the wall, you waited until they stepped foot into the room. 

Once you saw feet, you swiftly darted to stand in their way. 

Not expecting an obstacle, one of them fell to the floor, pulling the other with them, and they both landed with a huge thud. 

“Ow!”

Turning around, you hoped Mydei heard the loud ruckus, but his form was unmoving and unaffected—sleeping soundly. 

…How can this guy sleep this well knowing his life was constantly at threat? How did he survive this far? 

“You clumsy HKS. Why did you fall and take me with you?” 

“It wasn’t on purpose. There was something in my way.” 

“What was it?” 

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness, seeing a small shape before them—you. 

Realizing you’ve been seen, you arched your back, hissing to try to alert your owner, making noisy meows. 

If he didn’t wake up from the sound of them falling, he probably wouldn’t wake up from your noise, but there was an attempt. 

“What the? Since when did he have such a disgusting animal?” 

Disgusting? You were very dignified, thank you very much. 

“Let’s just kill it and be on with it.” 

“First time I’m agreeing with you.” 

One of the assassins made a swing with their knife and you dodged it with your quick reflexes, scratching their hand with your claw.

“Y'ouch!” 

The other one tried to grab you by ducking down with outstretched arms. 

Easily moving out of the way, you slipped through their legs and sprinted towards Mydei in hopes of waking him up. 

But before you could reach the blonde man, you felt pressure at your scruff. 

Crap!

Letting out a hiss, you struggled as the hand maneuvered you to face your capturer, unable to move because of your weak spot. 

“Got it. Now we can deal with it.” 

You weren’t going to go down without a fight. It didn’t matter if your movements were restricted, your mouth could still move.

Loudly meowing, you continued to make their lives harder.

Mydei, please wake up! You refused to believe he wasn’t awake with all the commotion. 

“Can you hurry and shut it up? We’re running out of time…”

“Too late.” 

A familiar unamused voice rang out, silencing the intruders. 

The assassin that was holding you, dropped you at the unexpected noise, cowering when they realized the person they were trying to dispose of was wide awake.

Landing on your feet, you rushed behind Mydei’s legs, hissing at them from your cover. 

Finally, your savior! Show them, Mydei! If you were in your human form, you would be sticking out your tongue in victory. 

Mydei towered over the two trespassers, darkly staring them down with crossed arms. 

“Trespassing on royal grounds. Do you know the consequences?” 

“...Uh, yes…” they dumbly let out. 

Shaking his head, Mydei frowned, “If you two know what it is, you should know better. I am letting you go, but know that I am not doing it for your sake. It is for mine.” 

Nodding without another word, they returned from where they came from—the window. 

And you were bewildered at their obedience. It was as if they had gone through this same song and dance before. 

Wondering what that was all about, you weaved through Mydei’s legs to sit before him, meowing for his attention. 

You wanted to ask him if he had done this before, but all you could do was make cat noises. 

Damn your inability to speak. Losing your way of communicating greatly pained you; however, you weren’t sure if Mydei was ready to see your human side. Also, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the process. 

What a way to change between forms…

Picking you up, Mydei held you outstretched before him, scanning you for any injuries. “You are quite the brave one, Kitty. Might be more than a lion.” 

You knew. You wanted to protect him. “Meow.” 

Suspiciously looking at you, he asked, “Do you understand me?” 

Yes. “Meow.” 

Slightly laughing with a glint in his eye, Mydei admitted, “If you do, your efforts in defending me were not in vain. I must confess I was awake the whole time. I wanted to know why you ran off from me in these late hours. I had thought you were proving the merchant’s belief to be true, but you are just a naturally curious creature, aren’t you?” 

Your cat instincts were hard to ignore… “Meow…” 

“Don’t worry about me. I have gone through these attempts many times before. I am used to it. Luckily, they were all amateurs.” 

But you didn’t want him to go through it anymore. “Meow.” 

“Are you on my side?” 

Yes, no doubt about it. He saved you from being a stray and from those people even if he waited before coming to your rescue. Besides, you wanted to live comfortably, so getting on his good side would be beneficial to you. “Meow!” 

“Then let us head back to sleep.” 

No complaints here. Purring as he carried you to the mattress, you nuzzled into his arms. God, he was so warm and inviting. 

Mydei climbed back onto the soft material, gently depositing you besides him. 

Softly petting you, he wished you a good night. “Sweet dreams, Kitty.” 

Curling up against him to steal his heat, you didn’t stop rumbling until you fell unconscious.

You could get used to this life, assassins and all—as long as his hand never leaves you. 

“Eurypon!” 

An enraged woman marched her way through the intricate hallways of the palace towards the throne room with a purpose. 

A bored man drifted his eyes over to her as she slammed open the doors, anger as clear as day on her face. 

“There was another assassination attempt on our son, and you are not doing anything about it? Do you not care for him?” Anguish evident in her voice. 

“Hah, another one? Mydeimos is old enough to handle those problems on his own. You are just coddling him.” Dismissive. Cold. 

She fought. “How can you say that of our own flesh and blood? Where is the man I married at the Kremnos Festival?”

He deflected. “I am still the same man. Now, I have different priorities.” 

“And what are they? Tell me. What is more important than our family?” 

“Gorgo, please. There are more pressing matters to attend to than some lowly peasants trying to kill a grown man capable of returning the favor tenfold.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like expanding our territory and strengthening our numbers.” 

Gorgo couldn’t believe her ears, disbelief crossing her expression. Those were more important than keeping their son safe and alive? She couldn’t stay in this room any longer. 

With no room for argument, she firmly stated, “This is not the end of this discussion.” Retreating for now, Gorgo stomped back to the hallway, fuming at her husband’s behavior. 

Mydeimos—Mydei—was their kin, her precious son. If he was taken away from her by such force, then she would have failed as a mother. 

These assassination attempts… Gorgo had a hunch that Eurypon was behind it, but she had no proof except for his nonchalant attitude. 

…How can she obtain evidence? 

Gnawing on her fingers, she was too focused on formulating a plan to hear Mydei greet her. 

“—ther.” 

Think, Gorgo, think. There must be some way to get her hands on incriminating proof. 

“—other.” 

Biting her lip, she groaned in frustration. She had no way of exposing her husband…

“Mother!” 

Hearing her son, she quickly snapped out of her daze. “Mydei?” 

He was standing before her with furrowed brows and worried eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine, thank you. I was just—” Cutting herself off, Gorgo took in the sight of her son with an unfamiliar creature around his shoulder���it stared right back at her, slowly blinking. 

She had never seen you before.

And she had never expected to see her son with an animal such as you. 

“You have…” Pointing, Gorgo continued, not knowing what to say. “...That is…” 

As if he forgot you were there, Mydei glanced at his shoulder, realizing you were casually lounging on him. Pausing for a moment, he thought about his next words before saying, “She was the one who saved me from the assassins last night.” 

A mere cat saving her son? How silly, but she will humor it, wondering how it came to be with him. 

“Did you name it?” 

“Kitty.” 

Furrowing her brows, she frowned. “That is no name for someone who saved your life.” With a hand on her chin, she studied you—you matched her gaze. 

You are technically a kitty, but you deserve an actual name. 

She wrung her thoughts for a name, carefully thinking. 

Hm, what about… no…

…This then…? 

No, it didn’t fit you. 

How about…

Finally, Gorgo said your name—your name from before you woke up here, and she could have sworn your eyes brightened at her suggestion. 

Mydei tested your name on his tongue, savoring the sound.

Nodding in approval, he agreed with his mother. “I like it. She will be called that from now on.” He scratched your head while repeating your name to you, and you purred as one of your eyes kept itself on Gorgo. 

You seemed to be more intelligent than you let on. 

Maybe…

An idea sparked in her mind. 

“Mydei, may I borrow her for a moment?” 

Stopping his hand with you protesting with a brief meow, Mydei looked at her with confusion, unsure of his mother’s intentions. “Why?” 

“Please! She’s adorable. I want to spend some time with her.” 

“But I have not spent much time with her either…” 

“She’s yours, so you will.” 

Defeatedly sighing, Mydei conceded, removing you from your perch on his shoulders to give you to Gorgo. “I will be outside if you need me.” 

Not lifting her eyes off you, she nodded, acknowledging him. 

Mydei walked away, and Gorgo dashed to her separate room with you letting out a surprised sound at her enthusiasm. 

Once in a safe spot and away from prying ears, she plopped you on a chair across from her. 

Clearly saying your name, she watched for your reaction. 

With you resting on your front two paws, you readily responded, “Meow.” 

Gorgo hadn’t been lying; you were very cute. 

Smiling, she lightly tapped you on your nose, and you let her. “You’re smarter than you let on, huh?” 

“Meow.” 

“Mydei says you saved him last night. Is that true?” 

“Meow.” 

“I must thank you for that. Even if it’s not true, I can tell you probably did your best to protect him—call it intuition.” 

“Meow!”

That last noise sounded a bit proud. You were so darn adorable; no wonder Mydei took a liking to you. 

Holding back a laugh, she politely asked, “May I ask you for a favor?” 

Tilting your head, you made an inquisitive sound between a chirp and a meow. 

“...I have a sneaking suspicion Mydei’s father is the one behind the attempts on his life. May I ask you to watch over Mydei and keep an eye out for Eurypon’s schemes?” 

To her surprise, you nodded, throwing her off and having her question if she correctly saw that.

Rubbing her eyes, Gorgo looked at you again. “I must be going crazy…” 

A cat that understands human language? Preposterous. 

You shook your head as if you disagreed with her.

More likely than she thought… and the notion you were not an ordinary feline briefly popped into her mind. 

“...What are you?” 

You blankly stared at her, not giving anything away. 

Of course, if you were anything but a cat, you wouldn’t want her to know. The fact still stands that you had tried to help her son, and you were agreeing to continue to do so.

Understanding your kind intent, she reasoned, “Well, as long as you are on Mydei’s side…” 

Sliding a hand over her face, she couldn’t help but be stressed over recent events. 

Sensing her distress, you jumped off the chair, going over to her.

Feeling a nudge at her feet, Gorgo looked down to see you, asking for permission to go up with two paws on her knees.

Gorgo patted her lap, and with you taking it as a sign, you quickly hopped up, curling into a ball and parking yourself there. 

She continuously ran her hand down your back in a petting motion, feeling some tension release from her shoulders. 

At this point, you thrived from being doted on.

Closing her eyes and relaxing at this therapeutic act, she softly thanked you, “I needed this. Thank you, Mydei’s little guard cat.” 

And well, you guessed you are now.

[yoditopascal]

After Hours

“I'm fallin' in too deep. Without you, don't wanna sleep. 'Cause my heart belongs to you. I'll risk it all for you. I want you next to me.”

warnings: fluff, established relationships, suggested smut

Jason pushed the windows open as he came in the room with a yawn.

Taking off his Red Hood helmet he tossed it to the side as he shuffled outta his costume.

“C’mon, seriously,” he muttered as he stood in the doorway, pants at his ankles in nothing but his Wonder Woman boxers “it’s like 5am what are you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, too much to do.”

“Like what?” He asked resting a hand on his hip

“I got a shit ton of math work due soon plus I need to finish my essay annnnd I work tomorrow.” You shrugged taking a sip of your cold coffee

“You know you can’t survive purely on caffeine, right?” He sighs

“Like you’re any better.” You replied

“At least I eat.” He argued back

“Barely!”

“Come on. Take a break.” He said sitting next to you on the bed while resting a hand on your back.

“I can’t,” you said, lifting your head to face him. You had so much to do. So much to study and so little time for it all.

“Come on,” he said again, grabbing your hand and tugging you to him. “Just for the day. You’ll feel better after. I promise.”

It was Jason’s idea to take you out to the small park around the block from your shared apartment in the Hill, after a short nap and some breakfast at your favorite diner. It was a sunny day and it was well deserved after finishing a grueling week of college classes, trying to earn your bachelor’s degree.

His smart cookie Jason liked to call you.

As you walked, wandering around the park pointing out different animals, feeding birds and just talking to each other, Jason tries to place his hand in your back pocket but when he realizes you’re wearing joggers, his favorite ones he might add, the ones that hug the curves of your ass just right, he rests his hand right over your ass.

“Really?” You chuckle as you lean into his side savoring his warmth

“What? I can’t help myself, that thing is like a magnet.” He shrugged bringing his hand to rest on your hip as you walked.

You stayed at the park for what felt like hours just enjoying each other’s company till the sky started to turn orange and your bellies started to rumble with hunger.

“Let’s head back.” Jason said as he stood from his spot on the park bench you two had stopped to rest at, pulling you with him by the hand as he led you back to the apartment.

Back at the apartment, Jason had you wait in the living room while he cleaned up the room a bit. When you were finally allowed to enter the room you aww’ed at how sweet he was being.

Jason had a whole set up for you. He changed the sheets and comforter and had the tv set up to your favorite show. Candles were lit on the end tables and a few small snacks were set out too.

“What do you say babe wanna Netflix and chill for a bit?”

Chilling was definitely the word you would use for what y’all did. Both of you had stripped down and threw on your pajamas, yours being a pair of shorts and one of Jason’s shirts, and his being a old t-shirt and his favorite pair of green joggers, and jumped right into bed.

You ended up watching almost a whole season of your favorite show while Jason just laid at your side and read his book.

A few hours later and the sky was dark, stars were starting to shine brightly in the sky. Jason stepped out to go and grab some food from y’all’s favorite local diner again. When he got back the room was dark, the tv was off and you were nowhere in sight.

Panic gripped his chest for a split second before he realized the window to the fire escape was open, climbing up it he was met with the sight of you sitting on the rooftop peacefully watching the sky as you hummed to yourself.

“Whatchu doing out here?” Jason asked as he plopped down next to you on the rooftop. He had the burgers he had gone to pick up in one hard and your drinks in the other.

“Nothing. Just clearing my head.” You leaned forward to rest your cheek on your knees, while staring at him a small smile creeping up on your face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you Jay.” You smiled up at him

“Stop before I puke” he said turning away from you to hide the small pink tint to his cheeks. Compliments weren’t really his thing but you always liked to shower him with them

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah whatever eat your food.” he said handing you your burger and drink. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as you ate you leaning into him every so often as you hummed in satisfaction, him rolling his eyes at you but smiling behind his burger as you did so.

The two of you sat and enjoyed the quiet, simply watching the stars and just enjoying each other’s company. Jason kept glancing back at you now and again, whether it was to make sure you were still there or just to appreciate your face you weren’t sure but you accepted the attention nonetheless.

“I’m surprised you took the night off.” You said as you leaned back into his side.

“Roy’s got it covered.” He said stretching out and placing a blanket around you both

“How is Roy?” You asked

“Roy’s…Roy.” He shrugged

You snuggle a bit closer trying to steal his body heat which made him chuckle

“You heat vulture.”

“What? It’s chilly!” You shrug

You’re practically in his lap, legs draped over his, when you start to play with his hair, fingers running through his scalp massaging it as he leaning into your touch

“Whatcha doin there, princess?”

Your fingers move down to play with the hair at the back of his neck. “Just enjoying your company is all.”

“Mhm. Are you hoping to continue to enjoy my company?” He hums in response as he cocks his brow at you suggestively.

You chuckle and he gives you a look

“Well, I guess I can invite you in for a few minutes, Mr. Red Hood.”

He smirks as his fingers dancing across your neck and collarbone before coming to rest on your jaw “How thoughtful of you.”

He caught your mouth with his own the kiss starting off gentle but quickly evolving

Pulling away from the now bruising kiss Jason kissed and nipped along your jaw to neck mouthing at the spot he knew never failed to make you weak in the knees.

You let out a breathless moan as he worked at your neck leaving dark love marks in his wake before finding his way back up to your lips with a smile, a shiver runs down your spine.

He pulls you closer, running his hands across your body, lingering on your thighs and ass. The blanket falls from around you two pooling around your heated bodies.

Jason licked at your mouth asking for entrance which you were all too happy to oblige. He ran his tongue along yours, deepening the kiss once more as you tilted your head to give him better access to your mouth.

He lifted you up without breaking the kiss putting you in his lap quickly picking up in intensity as he kissed you again and again. Your legs encircled his hips as he groped and dragged you into him slowly but heatedly grinding himself to your core.

Just as his hands found your waistband and started wandering a little further south you pulled away from his lips with a wet pop.

“We’re on the roof Jay.”

“Right.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed that he had gotten so carried away out in the open like that. He buries his face in your neck and inhales, trying to calm himself down. You smell good he realizes but he pushes the thought back down.

You peck his lips on last time before pushing off of him. You stood and stretched before grabbing his hand and leading him back down the fire escape to your cozy little apartment.

Pushing him down onto the mattress Jason smirked up at you before looking at you in confusion.

“Wait where are you going?” he said watching you grab a towel.

“I have to shower,” You said dryly, taking off your clothes, turning to face him, you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Care to join me?”

Jumping up from the bed Jason scooped you up into his arms carrying you into the bathroom with him

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

[bananababblegigglemuffin]

Claws, Diapers, and Daddy Duty

Logan’s gruff voice boomed from the nursery. “Darlin’, is it supposed to smell this bad?!”

I chuckled from the kitchen, setting down the baby bottle I’d been warming. “Welcome to parenthood, Wolverine!”

Let’s back up a bit. Being married to Logan wasn’t exactly what I’d call conventional. For one, his idea of “domestic bliss” involved flannel shirts, beer, and the occasional uninvited guest in the form of a random mutant needing help. But when we decided to adopt a baby—because Logan swore he wanted to give someone the stability he never had—life took a turn I never expected.

Daddy Logan: The Adjustment Period

From the moment we brought little Ellie home, I saw Logan try harder than he’d ever tried in his life. I mean, this is a man who’s fought Sentinels and survived wars, but one tiny infant had him more rattled than Magneto ever did.

The first night was… interesting. Logan insisted on taking the first shift, grumbling something about how he “never sleeps anyway.” I woke up to find him sitting in the rocking chair, holding Ellie, his claws accidentally out because he was too tense.

“Logan,” I whispered, trying not to laugh, “she’s not gonna hurt you.”

“She’s tiny,” he muttered, staring down at her with an expression I can only describe as pure terror. “What if I drop her? Or—or sneeze? Do babies survive sneezes?”

I kissed his forehead. “Relax, tough guy. She’s sturdier than you think. And you, believe it or not, are softer than you look.”

Diapers and Danger

Day three was when Logan truly met his match: diaper duty.

“Alright, bub,” he said, rolling up his sleeves like he was about to take down Sabretooth. “How hard can it be?”

Turns out, very.

I peeked into the nursery to find Logan standing there, holding Ellie at arm’s length, his nose wrinkled like he’d just walked through a sulfur pit.

“She pooped up her back,” he said, looking at me like I was supposed to explain how this was biologically possible.

“You’re the one with the healing factor, Logan. You’ll live,” I teased, tossing him the wipes.

It took him twenty minutes, two shredded diapers, and one very judgmental look from Ellie before he finally got the job done.

Superheroes Don’t Do Nap Time

Logan was not a fan of nap time—mostly because Ellie refused to go down without a fight. And by fight, I mean she screamed like a tiny banshee every time we put her in the crib.

One afternoon, I came home to find Logan sprawled on the couch, shirtless, with Ellie snoozing on his chest. His claws had popped out and were stuck in the arm of the couch, presumably because he’d been startled by her screaming earlier.

“You good there?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t say a word,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “She’s finally asleep.”

I couldn’t resist snapping a photo. “Superdad, saving the day one nap at a time.”

The Soft Side of Logan

For all his grumbling and growling, Logan had a way of melting whenever Ellie giggled. One evening, I found him sitting on the floor of the living room, holding one of Ellie’s stuffed bears and making it “fight” her other toys.

“Take that, bub!” he growled in his Wolverine voice, making Ellie squeal with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, leaning in the doorway.

He looked up at me, a sheepish grin on his face. “Yeah, well… she likes it.”

A New Kind of Hero

One night, after Ellie had finally gone to sleep, I found Logan standing over her crib, his arms crossed.

“You okay?” I asked, stepping beside him.

He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Just… didn’t think I’d ever get this.”

I slipped my arm around his waist. “Get what?”

“This,” he said, his voice soft. “A family. Someone to protect who’s not a mission or a fight. Just… her.”

Tears stung my eyes as I rested my head against his shoulder. “You’re doing great, Logan. She’s lucky to have you.”

He snorted. “Lucky? Kid’s stuck with a grumpy old man with anger issues.”

“She’s stuck with someone who’d claw through hell for her,” I corrected, squeezing his hand.

He looked down at me, his smirk softening into something tender. “Yeah… guess she is.”

And that’s how I knew Logan wasn’t just a dad—he was her dad. The kind of dad who’d grumble about diapers but stay up all night to rock her back to sleep. The kind of dad who’d teach her to fight but cry when she scraped her knee. The kind of dad who’d make you laugh, cry, and want to throttle him all at the same time.

Logan wasn’t perfect. But to Ellie—and to me—he was everything.

[deadsetobsessions]

Cassandra Cain wandered. It has always been so, it will always be so. The moment she clutched the bloody remains of her own freedom in her hands, Cassandra flew and flitted between the cracks of the places she finds.

The only thing that ever made her stay was her dad and their family. The only place she ever settled in for more than a scant number of months was Gotham.

But they’re in a place- a universe- Cassandra could never return to, could not follow, because they had forbidden her to do so. Tim’s grip on her arm, two textures of bloodied skin and torn gloves, told her everything he wanted to say. Her little brother all but shoved her through the crack between planes and universes, and begged her to live with fearful eyes and the grim set of his shoulders.

She has never been good at denying Tim.

The first few weeks were… difficult. She ran- liberated a boat, from men with sabres and cruel hands- and learned to feel the desperate pull of freedom on her hands amongst the waves. She was lost, adrift, silent in her grief. She could be free. She has never been freer. But Cass had never wanted to be free from those she claimed as her own.

Cassandra was built and trained to survive. To walk into a fight and come out the victor, no matter the cost. So she adapts and overcomes and tries not to wallow in her grief.

This new world was different. Brighter, in many ways, than her home dimension. Not that it was hard, considering her home was a wasteland by now, with the moving corpses of what once was her family. The former vigilante knew better than to take it at face value. The brightest places tend to have the darkest shadows. And so, she travels, looking for a purpose. Looking for Hong Kong, because she’s well aware she’ll never find a Gotham again. She braves the sea, travels in between groups of pirates and struggles to understand the slips of sounds that did not make sense to her. It was like before Bruce found her all over again and Cassandra tried a little to learn like how he would have wanted her to. But it is hard, and spoken language was never important to her, never necessary. It was relevant only because her loved ones deemed it important.

Then, she finds a boy on an island, whose words were simple and who was always warm-welcoming-happy-free.

Predictably, Cassandra learns the word “meat” right after learning his name. He was like… the sun. Bright, bold, and unfettered in his will. More stubborn than her brothers and sisters, a feat Cass had not thought possible outside of Gotham, and more than Bruce, only because he could not be swayed by logic. He was Monkey D. Luffy and he wanted to be freer than anyone else.

“Join my crew!”

Cass could not kill. She could not be a pirate.

“Shishishi!” He throws his head back when he laughs, and Cass can tell that he means it. That he thinks her silly for-

“Then my first mate won’t need to kill! We’ll be strong enough to leave people alive! That’s your dream, right?”

Cassandra is breathless. She is still. And- maybe Luffy doesn’t have the training she does, but he understood. She could read it in the lines of his shoulders, the way his rubber limbs don’t snap. She couldn’t believe that she would find anyone that would understand her will to never kill, not after dad, who had wrapped her in shadows that whispered safety and understanding-

“You wanna be free and you want to help without killing! I’m gonna be the Pirate King, and the Pirate King’s crew’s gotta be the free-est! And we can help people if they pay us in meat!”

- but Luffy was a supernova and Cassandra believes.

“Okay.”

“YES!” Luffy roars with happiness, grin wide as the glow in her heart. “I GOT A FIRST MATE!”

——

Cass contorts herself into the barrel- not a difficult feat, since she was already small to begin with- and sighs. She pokes Luffy’s forehead before lightly tugging on his cheek, stretching the skin a bit, in a small scolding.

“Awe, nap time!”

Cass sighs, too familiar with the antics of a chaotic younger brother.

[jiuwaves]

Where sunshine meets midnight.

❦ pairing ; kang daesung x reader.

❦ warnings ; none

The studio was alive with energy, but you sat perched on a windowsill, legs crossed, sipping your iced coffee with casual disinterest. You were the picture of calm, dressed in dark clothes, subtle makeup, and wearing that usual unreadable expression like armor.

Today, Jiyong had dragged you along as a temporary replacement for his stylist, who’d called in sick last minute.

However, you were now stuck in the practice room until he finished up his work.

Just great.

"You'll survive.” Jiyong said coolly, lounging back on the sofa without a care.

"I have to just sit here for hours..” you muttered, tilting your head, eyes glued to your phone.

"Right!" he shouted suddenly, smacking the phone out of your hands as he stood up.

Your phone slipped from your fingers and slid across the floor, coming to a stop at the feet of someone wearing unfamiliar shoes.

You looked up slowly, your gaze meeting Daesung’s.

He stared down at you, clearly confused and unsure if you were part of the staff or some random new person who had wandered into the wrong room.

"Oh, that’s my temporary stylist for today.” Jiyong called out from across the room with a lazy grin. 

"She bites!"

You turned immediately, scoffing under your breath, fists clenching for a second before forcing yourself to stay calm, completely ignoring Daesung, who just stood there awkwardly, like a lost puppy unsure if he should follow or flee.

"Okay..." you muttered, shaking out your shoulders and brushing off Jiyong's teasing.

Without another glance at Daesung, you walked back to the sofa and settled down, curling into your corner like a cat ready to nap through the chaos.

And through that slight chaos, Daesung’s eyes didn’t leave you.

He watched you the entire way back, studying the way you moved, the way you carried yourself, his head tilting slightly as if he couldn’t help but be drawn in. His heart thudded loud in his chest as he awkwardly shuffled back to the center of the practice room, casting quick glances at you every few seconds.

On the other hand, you didn't spare him another look. You just lounged back against the sofa, scrolling casually on your phone, legs crossed again like you had all the time in the world and none of it was meant for anyone here.

God, you were cool.

Way cooler than anyone Daesung had ever met.

And that made him feel like an excited puppy left outside the glass door, nose pressed against it, desperate for attention but too nervous to bark.

"You're drooling.” Jiyong teased, smirking.

His comment made Daesung shriek, loud enough that, for once, it actually caught your attention.

You looked up from your phone, catching him mid-panic, meeting his eyes just for a second before Daesung immediately whipped his head away, face burning with embarrassment.

"I hate, hate, hate you so much, you liar!” He groaned dramatically, collapsing to his knees, hands tangled in his hair.

Everyone in the room blinked, staring at him in confusion, well everyone except Jiyong, who clearly enjoying every second of the chaos he had just created.

Time ticked by. You were now sprawled out on the couch, legs stretched comfortably across the cushions, one arm draped behind your head, your phone resting in your other hand. Completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around you, you remained utterly relaxed.

Jiyong, Daesung, and now Taeyang were in the middle of some heated argument, probably over something ridiculous knowing them. 

But you? You didn’t bat an eye.

Their loud voices filled the space, but all you did was swipe lazily through your phone, occasionally glancing up when the noise reached an absurd volume.

Daesung, however, couldn't help but notice how unbothered you were.

He shifted on the floor, glancing over at you with a hesitant look, trying to figure out how to get your attention.

"You’re staring, Daesung.” you said coldly, not even glancing up from your phone.

His heart skipped a beat.

"My bad..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned away, trying to act casual.

But when he turned around, both Jiyong and Taeyang, were leaning against the wall with their arms crossed, watching him with knowing smirks plastered across their faces. They were enjoying every second of this, and Daesung felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Great. Just great.

He couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. 

"It’s like he’s hypnotized.” Jiyong whispered to Taeyang, leaning in with a grin.

Taeyang shot him a side-eye, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, he’s clearly about to hyperventilate.” he said, pointing at Daesung with a disbelieving look. 

"Look at him."

Daesung, was now a shade of red that could rival a tomato. He kept fiddling nervously with his hands, avoiding everyone’s gaze like it was a life-or-death situation.

Jiyong just chuckled at Taeyang’s response, glancing over at you to see if you were noticing the drama unfold but clearly, you weren’t and that, somehow, made it worse for Daesung.

Finally, after what felt like hours of noise and chaos, the music cut off.

Practice was over.

You barely reacted, still sprawled lazily across the couch, one leg kicked up along the cushions as jiyong walked over, towel slung around his neck, still catching his breath and without warning, he lightly slapped your leg.

"Move, princess.” he said, wiping his forehead with the towel.

You grumbled under your breath but shifted your legs enough for him to drop onto the couch beside you, casual like he owned the place. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, dangerously close to brushing your hair.

For a moment, the room still buzzed with leftover energy, Taeyang chatting with a manager, Daesung hovering awkwardly nearby but Jiyong didn’t pay them any mind.

He leaned toward you slightly, voice dropping to something quieter, more serious.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, tone stripped of the teasing edge he usually wore.

You blinked, finally looking up from your phone to meet his gaze.

"Fine.” you said simply.

He smirked, like he knew that wasn't the full answer. 

"You’re a terrible liar."

You snorted, tucking your phone away, finally giving him a little more attention.

"Maybe or you’re just too nosy.’’ you said, voice cool but not unkind.

Jiyong chuckled under his breath. 

"Nah. Just making sure you’re still breathing. You’ve been sitting there like a ghost all day."

You shrugged, eyes drifting lazily over the practice room. 

"Nothing interesting to do."

He gave you a look, one of those rare, real ones and for a second, the teasing dropped away completely.

"You should come by the studio sometime.” he said casually. 

"Not just for babysitting duty. Bring your vibe. It's different. Kinda... needed."

You blinked, a little surprised.

Before you could answer, Daesung, still lingering nearby, sneezed so loudly that both of you turned your heads sharply.

"...Idiot.” Jiyong muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You hid a small smirk, feeling the tiniest ripple of amusement finally crack your carefully built wall as you let the moment hang for a beat longer and then shrugged it off like it was nothing.

"Anyways..” Jiyong said, standing up and running a hand through his messy, sweat-damp hair. 

"Fix my hair. I’ve gotta head out soon."

You arched an eyebrow but stayed silent, tossing your phone aside with a sigh as if this were just another chore you were forced to endure.

He grinned at your reaction, watching you drag yourself upright, motioning lazily for him to sit.

Jiyong plopped down in front of you, unbothered by your complete lack of enthusiasm.

From the corner of the room, Daesung fidgeted, still stealing glances your way like a kid too shy to approach a stray cat.

Taeyang was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hiding his smirk behind his hand as he watched Daesung.

You clicked your tongue, grabbing a comb from the nearby table and without a word, you raked your fingers through his hair first, smoothing out the tangles with a kind of detached expertise which made jiyong close his eyes, clearly soaking up the attention from you.

"Feels nice..” he muttered under his breath.

You dragged the comb lazily through Jiyong’s hair, ignoring his dramatic sighs and occasional complaints.

Finally satisfied, you dropped your hands to your lap. 

"Done."

Jiyong checked himself quickly through his phone, then grinned, however instead of thanking you, he turned toward Daesung, who was still awkwardly loitering nearby, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

"You’re next.” Jiyong called out casually, waving him over.

Daesung stiffened. 

"Huh?"

"Come here.’’ Jiyong said, standing up and gesturing dramatically toward the seat he'd just vacated. 

"Your hair’s a mess too. Let her fix it."

Daesung looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes darting between you, Jiyong, and Taeyang, who was now openly smirking. You simply stared at Daesung with a blank, unreadable expression, one brow raised ever so slightly in silent question.

He swallowed hard, clearly debating whether to run or comply.

“I-I’m fine!" Daesung protested weakly, trying to smooth his own hair down with his hands.

"No, you’re not.” Jiyong snorted. 

"You look like you wrestled a tornado."

Taeyang nodded solemnly. 

"A very sad tornado."

Daesung whimpered under his breath, glancing at you again but you didnt say anything, just tilted your head ever so slightly, almost like you were challenging him.

“Come on now.” Jiyong added, clapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward. 

"Don't make her wait."

With the weight of a thousand spotlights burning down on him, Daesung shuffled toward the seat you sat by, every step slow and reluctant before plopping down stiffly, shoulders hunched, hands nervously twisting together in his lap.

You set the comb back in your hand and looked down at him.

Cool. Calm. Slightly predatory.

"Sit still.” you said flatly.

Daesung froze like a statue.

You combed your fingers lightly through his hair, finding tangles easily, he really had been a mess but as you worked, you could feel the tension practically vibrating off him, like he might explode at the slightest provocation.

From across the room, Jiyong and Taeyang watched, grinning like proud parents at a school recital.

"Look at him.” Taeyang whispered, snickering. 

"He's going to cry."

"No, no.” Jiyong said, smirking. 

"He's about to fall in love even more."

But unfortunately, you were struggling with Daesung. Every time you ran the comb through his hair, he would twitch. Flinch. Shift. It was like trying to tame a live wire. You exhaled slowly, patience visibly thinning.

"Daesung.” you said, voice edged with warning.

"Sorry!’’ he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut tightly like that would somehow help him stay still.

It didn’t.

You set the comb down with a soft clack beside you. Without a word, you leaned in and placed both hands firmly on either side of Daesung’s head, one steady at the back of his skull, the other lightly bracing his jaw.

"Stay put.” you said, calm and cool, like you were simply stating a fact.

Daesung froze instantly, eyes popping open in wide panic. He looked up at you, at your calm, serious face hovering so close to his and visibly stopped breathing for a second. You simply stared at him for a moment, making sure he understood.

Only when he gave the tiniest, jerky nod did you pick up the comb again.

Holding him steady, you started working carefully through his hair.

The room had gone silent.

Even Taeyang and Jiyong had stopped snickering, watching the scene unfold with barely-contained grins.

You caught a glimpse of Jiyong mouthing something ridiculous to Taeyang out of the corner of your eye but you chose to ignore them.

Meanwhile, Daesung, sat stiffly in the chair, cheeks burning red all the way to his ears, hands gripping his knees to stop from fidgeting, under your touch. He felt like he might actually combust but for once, he stayed still, obedient and trembling, like a nervous puppy under a stern master's hand.

When you finished, you patted his head lightly, as if sealing the deal.

"There.” you said casually, finally letting go of him. 

"Not bad, golden boy."

Daesung scrambled back a few steps, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to gather what little dignity he had left. His cheeks were still burning, ears bright red.

You didn’t even look at him, too busy sipping your iced coffee, one leg lazily swinging over the side of the couch but you felt his gaze hovering awkwardly nearby.

He just stood there, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt again. 

Then, finally, he mustered up what little courage he had.

"Th—thank you... for... uh... fixing me. I mean—my hair. Fixing my hair.” Daesung stammered, voice cracking embarrassingly halfway through.

You raised an eyebrow but still didn’t look up from your drink.

"Mhm.” you hummed, noncommittal, offering him zero relief.

Daesung shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, wringing his hands together.

"Uh—i-if you ever need your hair... fixed, too! I—I could—" Daesung started rambling, voice getting faster and higher with each word.

You finally glanced up at him with a slow, lazy look over the rim of your cup.

Daesung immediately clamped his mouth shut.

You tilted your head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks.” you said coolly, voice dripping with amusement.

It was enough to make Daesung’s brain short-circuit.

He just stood there, staring at you like a kicked puppy, before quickly bowing in flustered apology and rushing off toward the other side of the room, nearly crashing into a wall in the process.

He might have just met you today, but somehow, the way you carried yourself, calm, unreadable and untouchable had him spiraling. The way you looked, the way you barely spared him a glance, it had Daesung absolutely malfunctioning.

It was ridiculous, he knew.

One cool stare from you, and his brain short-circuited like a kid seeing his first crush.

It wasn’t fair.

Not fair at all.

-

When Jiyong said "temporary stylist" you hadn’t realized just how loose his definition of "temporary" was because now he was dragging you around as needed.

And today, here you were, being pulled into Daesung’s concert.

You hadn't thought much of it because for you, it was just another batch of familiar faces, too much caffeine, and too little patience.

But for Daesung, it was different.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the way you barely spared him a glance, the casual flick of your hand through his hair, the way your voice stayed so cool and even while he was dying inside.

And now, fate or maybe Jiyong’s evil sense of humor, he had thrown you two together again.

You walked into the styling room, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, idly scrolling through your phone. You hadn't even glanced up yet when you heard someone gasp quietly. blinking out of confusion, you lifted your head.

Daesung stood frozen by the mirror, towel around his neck, mid-sip of a water bottle and staring at you like he'd seen a ghost.

"...Hi?" you said dryly, one eyebrow arching just slightly.

Daesung immediately choked on his water, coughing and sputtering. You sighed just from watching his silly antics, stepping fully into the room and letting the door swing shut behind you.

"I didn't know you were here.” you said simply, tossing your bag onto a nearby bench.

Daesung didn’t say a word.

He just turned away quickly, drying the splatter of water that had sprayed down his front in his panic. You ignored the chaos easily, moving on like nothing had happened, setting your bag down with a dull thud and pulling out Jiyong’s nail kit, laying everything neatly across the table.

Then you dropped into a chair, one leg crossed over the other, phone in hand again as you waited for Jiyong, who was taking his sweet time, as usual. You leaned back lazily in the chair, head tilted against the wall, completely unbothered.

But from the corner of your eye, you could see Daesung stealing glances again, but you didn't react to it.  You just scrolled idly through your phone, your expression calm, cool, untouchable, like you had all the time in the world.

It didn’t take long before boredom got the better of you. 

You dropped your phone onto the table with a soft thud and started spinning lazily in your chair, one slow circle after another.

Around and around.

Until you finally dragged your foot against the ground to stop, only to realize the chaos you’d created.

You caught your reflection in the mirror: your hair, usually neat and sharp, was now a mess from all the spinning. Sighing quietly through your nose, you reached up to a comb on the table to try and smooth it down when a voice interrupted you.

"I can fix it!” Daesung blurted out.

You blinked, turning your head slightly to look at him. He was standing a few feet away, towel forgotten, hands awkwardly fidgeting at his sides absolutely regretting the words that left his mouth but it was too late now.

You were staring at him, unreadable.

"...You?" you said flatly.

Daesung’s ears turned pink again, but he nodded determinedly, puffing up like a puppy trying to seem bigger.

"I—I mean, yeah! I can help. I’m good with... hair."

(That was a lie. He was absolutely not good with hair.)

For a long beat, you just looked at him.

Then very slowly, you leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, like you were mildly entertained by the idea.

“Go ahead.“ you said coolly.

Daesung lit up like he’d just been handed the biggest mission of his life. He practically sprinted over to you, nearly tripping over his own feet in his excitement.

He hovered over you, looking determined and panicked all at once but once he grabbed a brush from the table, he immediately froze, realizing he had no idea where to start.

You tilted your head up, arms still crossed lazily.

"Well?" you said, voice calm, almost amused.

"I-I’m just planning my strategy.” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

You almost smiled, shutting your eyes slowly, letting out a soft, tired sigh like you were already regretting giving him the chance.

He started brushing, gently at first. You could feel how cautious he was, like he was handling something precious and breakable but his hand was shaky, and every few seconds, he would accidentally tug a little too hard.

"Ow...” you muttered under your breath, deadpan.

“S—Sorry!" Daesung squeaked, pulling the brush back like it had burned him.

He shifted awkwardly behind you, muttering apologies as he tried again, even gentler.

You cracked one eye open, catching his reflection in the mirror.

The way he was concentrating so hard, tongue poking slightly out of the corner of his mouth, it was so ridiculously earnest that it made you quietly chuckle to yourself. You hadn’t expected him to be this adorable, especially after all the chaos he’d caused earlier but there was something undeniably endearing about the way he was trying so hard to get your hair right, his brows furrowed in pure determination.

But then again, you didn’t let him see your smile. Instead, you just leaned back a little further, closing your eyes and letting him work and for once, you didn’t mind the quiet, the gentle motions of his hands. In fact, it was almost... calming.

When he finished, you opened your eyes and glanced at his reflection in the mirror.

Your hair was neatly brushed out, a cute side part framing your face but what really caught your attention was the colorful clip holding it in place. It was so bright and cheerful, you almost wondered where in the world Daesung had found it.

You blinked, your gaze shifting from your own reflection to him. He was staring at you, awaiting some kind of verdict, his expression a mix of hope and nervousness.

You gave him nothing. Just a simple, flat “Not bad.” with your tone as cool as ever.

But Daesung’s face lit up like he'd just won the lottery, grinning wide. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in response, but even as you did, something unexpected flickered in your chest a warmth you couldn’t quite place. It was silly. It shouldn’t have made you feel this way, especially after how he’d been around you before, but there it was.

He had managed to get your hair just right, and somehow, it meant more than you’d expected.

Just as you were taking in the unexpected warmth from Daesung’s overly eager smile, the door swung open, and Jiyong strolled in like he owned the place late, as usual, with his signature confident strut.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, eyes darting from you to Daesung, who was still basking in the afterglow of your minimal praise.

You didn’t answer Jiyong’s teasing, just gave a casual gesture toward the chair, and he immediately slumped into it, stretching out dramatically.

“Since when did you have a thing for unmatched hair accessories?” Jiyong asked, his eyes narrowing at the colorful clip in your hair, clearly amused.

You shrugged nonchalantly, keeping your cool.

“It’s your brother’s work. Don’t judge him so hard.” You patted Jiyong’s shoulder lightly, the motion smooth, almost dismissive, before you returned to your task of fixing his hair.

Jiyong raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted by your unbothered response.

“Brother’s work, huh? Guess I’ll let it slide... this time.”

You focused on Jiyong’s hair with Daesung standing to the side, awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet. His gaze flickered back and forth between you and Jiyong. It was clear he was still feeling that mix of nerves and admiration, a little unsure of his place in the room now that Jiyong had so effortlessly shifted the attention back to himself.

He watched as you worked on Jiyong, almost mesmerized by your hands moving through his hair. For a second, Daesung looked like he might say something, but then he swallowed it down. He tugged lightly at the towel around his neck, glancing down and away, the feeling of being out of his element clear on his face.

Jiyong caught Daesung's hesitation, raising an eyebrow before turning to him with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to keep holding her hostage.” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

He blinked, caught off guard by the comment. His cheeks flushed again, and he quickly looked away, staring at the floor like it held all the answers to his current predicament. 

He mumbled under his breath, 

“I’m not—I’m fine..really.”

You, meanwhile, didn’t even look up. You were too busy making sure Jiyong’s hair looked perfect, though the corner of your lips tugged into the smallest smile at the sight of Daesung’s continued fluster, However Jiyong, wasn’t letting it slide.

“You know, you can just ask her.” he continued, glancing at you with a playful grin. 

“She doesn’t bite, at least not that hard.”

Daesung’s eyes widened, and he immediately shot a panicked look in your direction, completely unsure how to handle the situation. His face had turned beet red now, and his hands fidgeted nervously at his sides. You sighed, finally looking up, though your expression was as unreadable as ever.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” you said dryly, your gaze shifting from Jiyong to Daesung.

“Don’t let him get to you.”

Daesung swallowed hard, his nervousness not easing at all but your indifferent tone seemed to put him at ease, and he managed a small, almost embarrassed smile, his fingers tugging at the towel around his neck. 

“Sorry…”

Jiyong, satisfied with the chaos he’d stirred up, leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You two are adorable, really. Too bad I’m heading out soon after this concert, i was planning to make you do this again later today.”

You reached out and flicked Jiyong’s ear, gently but firmly.

“Okay, enough talking.” you said coolly, giving him a pointed look. 

“You have to go up there in a while. Don’t mess it up.”

Jiyong yelped dramatically, clutching his ear like you’d just wounded him for life.

“Violence!” he cried out, earning an unimpressed glance from you and a few chuckles from the staff nearby.

“This guy..” you muttered under your breath, already reaching for the hairspray to set his style in place.

Daesung watched the entire interaction with wide eyes, somewhere between awe and disbelief. The way you handled Jiyong so effortlessly, like you weren’t afraid of his antics was honestly impressive and weirdly, it made Daesung’s chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain.

Jiyong peeked one eye open and grinned, nudging Daesung with his teasing again.

“See? Told you. She’s got claws.”

“Mm.” Daesung made a vague sound in his throat, but he didn’t move, still too focused on how naturally you seemed to command the space around you even in total chaos.

You finished with a satisfied hum, finally stepping back and dusting your hands off.

“There. Presentable. Barely.” you added, just to make sure Jiyong didn’t get too smug.

He gave you a playful wink before standing up and stretching like a cat.

“Thanks, boss.” he teased, ruffling his hair slightly and immediately earning another flick on the forehead from you.

“Hey!” Jiyong cried, laughing, as he moved away toward the stage area.

And just like that, it was quiet again. You were busy wiping down your tools, lost in your own little world, when you noticed Daesung hovering in your peripheral vision. 

Again.

You didn't look up. 

"Spit it out." you said flatly.

He flinched slightly at how you caught him, but to his credit, he didn’t run away this time. Instead, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I, uh..." he started, voice awkward and boyish. 

"I was just wondering... if you maybe... wanted to hang out sometime? Outside of work?"

He finished in a rush, almost like ripping off a band-aid.

You finally glanced up at him. His ears were already bright red, and he wasn’t even looking at you, eyes glued somewhere to the left of your head.

There was a brief pause enough to make him visibly sweat before you leaned back in your chair, arms crossing lazily over your chest.

"Like what?" you asked, expression unreadable.

Daesung panicked for a second.

"Like, uh— food? Coffee? Karaoke?" he rattled off, clearly just listing anything that came to mind. 

"Or—or just walking! Walking is good! I’m really good at walking—"

You stared at him for another agonizingly long beat before a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.

"...You really are something.." you muttered.

Daesung went silent again, trying not to wither under your gaze watching as you pushed up yourself from your chair and slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Ofcourse. Ill go out with you.” you said simply as you passed him by, the faintest brush of your sleeve against his arm.

His head whipped around to look at you, with sparkles and shine in his eyes.

But you didn’t look back, just raised a hand lazily in the air as you walked off, waving two fingers without turning around.

"Text me, when you get time to!" you called over your shoulder, and Daesung just stood there, stunned, before a wide, uncontrollable smile broke out across his face.

[clone-anon-after-dark]

The Time It Takes

(A Crosshair x Reader fic in 3 parts)

Written for @lightwise

Word Count: 2,513

Warnings: Some discussion of sex, but nothing explicit

A/N: Reader’s appearance is not described. This fic contains some soft and hesitant Crosshair and early relationship stuff. Also Tech Lives and is on Pabu and he is in this fic so deal.

Part 1

Only a few days into a new rotation and you were already wondering what the year had in store. A hectic holiday season followed by some difficult conversations with someone who would never be yours. You’d known this for a while, but sometimes discussions still needed to be had. While he lived on the other side of Pabu, you didn’t see him as often as you’d think given the size of the island. That seemed to be both a blessing and a curse for while you longed for that connection, it would never be as fulfilling as you needed. You stood by the dock as you watched his shuttle leave for another trip; thoughts only disturbed by a single “hmph” behind you. Internally rolling your eyes, you knew exactly where that came from.

You turned to find Crosshair sitting next to Batcher on a bench along the dock. She was ready for a nap after no doubt spending the morning chasing fish while he went for his morning swim. He often swam further away from the busy side of the island and along a quieter part of the beach. You weren’t sure what brought him over here on his walk home.

“Problem?” you asked him.

He raised an eyebrow at hearing the single-word question he so often posed to others.

“No,” he replied. “You?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” you answered.

You were immediately distracted from your melancholy and somehow drawn into him. The man who often stood away from everyone and observed everything always managed to pull you in. You weren’t sure what it was about him that made you a little bit giddy. For his part, Crosshair pretended to be aloof, but it was increasingly hard for him to avoid you. It wasn’t that he couldn’t find a path through the community that would exclude you entirely. It was more that without planning and without thinking, he wanted to see you. His feet simply took him there.

You stood next to him while Batcher lightly snored. Crosshair petted her back until finally deciding to break the silence.

“Do you….” He uncharacteristically scratched the back of his head. His brothers did that when they were unsure, but like Tech, Crosshair rarely behaved this way. He always seemed so sure of himself.

“Do I what?”

“We should get lunch,” he said.  Internally, he was screaming at himself. He wasn’t a romantic, but this was probably not how it was done.

“I’d like that,” you replied. “In fact, I’m hungry now.”

Crosshair got up and Batcher followed. You meandered up to a small restaurant that always served the same things, but it didn’t matter because the food was always good and because she was on her best behavior, even Batcher was welcome. It took a little time to get into a groove of talking and eating, but Crosshair made a good effort. He wasn’t usually one to beat around the bush, so he came out and asked.

“What’s with you and that man? He’s married, isn’t he? Are you a trio with room for a fourth?”

You nearly spat out your food. His attempt at humor and honesty left you speechless for a moment, but you tried answering as embarrassed heat set on his cheeks.

“No, umm, well, yes, he’s married, but we’re not polyamorous and,” you sighed, “He was something I wanted or thought I did, but I’m not the person he can commit to. He’s with someone else. We’re still friends, but I guess I wonder what-if since he’s the closest thing I’ve had to a life partner.”

Crosshair wasn’t sure what to say. He had never been in a position to think about a partner. Tech’s survival and later reappearance on Pabu meant that he and Phee were together, but the concept of something like marriage was never introduced to the clones. They were made for a war that was over. They hadn’t even been taught about the basics of sex and anatomy until as a cadet, Tech managed to dig up information on the first data pad he’d made. The thought of being with someone felt like a cruel joke and yet in your presence and now that the Empire was behind him, he felt like maybe it wasn’t a joke after all.

“What about you?” you asked. “I thought you had a thing for one of the fishers.”

“Just because I lifted crates for her once doesn’t meant anything. I was being nice, if you can believe it.”

“Ah.”

Crosshair ate another bite from his noodle bowl and then ventured another question.

“What does partnership mean to you?”

You looked at him with surprise and answered after some contemplation. It was having an equal. Someone to help and be helped by. Sharing struggles. Lifting each other up. Fixing the house. Doing chores. Staying in bed late whenever work could wait. Listening to the rain together. You wanted stability. You wanted to not be alone. You wanted to be loved and to love and you weren’t going to settle for someone who couldn’t do their part.

“And getting laid now and again wouldn’t hurt either,” you added.

He grinned at that.

“And what about you?” you asked, returning to seriousness.

“I only recently started thinking about it,” he answered. “It sounds like something I never thought I’d have.”  He took a sip of his drink and then added, “But I would like to try.”

Part 2

Crosshair loved to steal kisses. The single peck you left on his cheek after your second date gave him all kinds of flutters. Maybe it was the sniper in him, but he loved pulling you away into the shadows even just to kiss the crown of your head. He was used to being out of sight. It’s where he felt safest and so it stood to reason that he felt safest having you all to himself and tucked away in a corner, on a balcony, or - at one point - up a tree. It wasn’t surprising that he was good with his mouth. His oral fixation was not limited to the toothpicks he routinely rolled between his lips.

For his part, Crosshair loved having someone he could make smile and laugh. He was still his dry, snarky self, but he smiled much more often, sometimes picking you up when he’d visit after a day’s work, just so he could hold you as close as possible. He could feel your heartbeat. He could feel you breathing. He could feel your happiness and it fueled his own.

Then one morning some weeks later you just happened to be ready to walk to the beach.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I thought I would come swim with you.”

“I swim alone,” he answered, guard coming back up.

“No, you don’t. Batcher is always with you,” you retorted; feeling brave and a nervousness at the fear you had overstepped.

“She’s different,” he countered.

“Can I join you anyway?” you asked, now more unsure.

“Just today.”

You walked together in silence, but the curtain that had almost drawn between you started to lift. He was cautious and you were trying to figure this out. Once on the beach, he put a towel down and – with his back to you - took off his cybernetic hand. He swallowed harder than he wanted to and it was clear that was the source of his insecurity in this moment. Tech had made him that cybernetic, but losing his hand and now gaining a different one had changed him. He still had to take it off whenever possible before getting in the water to avoid salt affecting its functionality. Taking it off and putting it on was a reminder and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen like this by you.

Crosshair took a breath, walked to the edge of the water, and looked back at you just as waves splashed his ankles. You looked at him, then his stump, and then back up at him and smiled. You realized you loved him. Walking into the water next to each other, you both started swimming until you reached a spot that was familiar to him. He closed his eyes, face to the sun, and took some deep breaths while treading water. You laid back and started floating, waves moving you in a comforting lull. He kept close, still treading softly while meditating on his own thoughts; somehow able to reflect and find calm despite Batcher doggie paddling close by and trying to snag a fish. Every so often he reached out to you to keep you from drifting too far. You sat up in the water, fingers tracing down his right arm before coming to the end of his stump and kissing it. He pressed a kiss to your lips like his life depended on it.

After about an hour, you both had enough and made your way back to shore. You dried off and he put his hand back on, this time not hiding. Taking a step toward him, your fingers interlaced with his - both biological and cybernetic.  He leaned down to kiss you, briefly pulling you into his chest before Batcher charged up the beach trying to bark with a large fish half hanging out of her teeth.

He walked you home hand-in-hand.

Things progressed to the point that he was spending the night. It was a lot quieter than staying with his siblings. Although they were nice, Wrecker was always there to elbow him and make it awkward. Crosshair would rather come to your house and snuggle on the couch.

He never pushed for more than you were ready for since he preferred to take his time anyway. He was nervous to be intimate with you and was scared shitless to tell you that, but somehow your gentle spirit made it okay for him to say something when the time came. You brought up sex and he avoided eye contact for several moments until you caressed his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you said, kissing his temple. “There’s no hurry. We can take the time it takes.”

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he whispered. “I can’t mess this up.”

“Then we talk,” you replied. “Communicate. We can do whatever we both want.”

You wanted him left in no doubt as to how you felt. He was vulnerable and you knew it. Crosshair liked being competent. He liked control and knowing what he was doing. With this, he was so far away from experienced that he couldn’t even pretend.

“Tell me what you like,” you implored.

“I don’t know what all I like.” He managed to look into your curious eyes and relaxed a bit. “In war, there’s no time. I would simply get the job done as fast as possible and get back to work.”

“Well that’s no good here,” you answered. “We can take our time.”

“Maybe you show me something you like and we can start there,” he suggested.

As much as it was a challenge for him to let go of control, he trusted you and that night he discovered a lot more about himself.

Crosshair was game for helping you in more constructive ways too. While he’d never fixed a sink, Tech gave him some pointers and he spent the better part a day on yours. He got down and dirty and made sure the job was done right while you tried catching up on work for the job you were actually paid for. It wasn’t a fun day, but it was more help than you’d had in a long time. Maybe ever. The citizens of Pabu helped each other, but it was hard to ask for help after being hyper-independent for so long. Crosshair started taking note about things around the house that could use some attention before they got worse.  The more time you worked together, the more you found your strengths complimented each other and you fell into a familiar routine.

Part 3

It was another sunny day on Pabu and you were grateful for a day off work without anything looming in the distance. You enjoyed lunch with Crosshair at what was now your usual spot while Batcher sat at his feet and gobbled up the occasional snack offered by him. You sat next to each other and shared a smile as you finished your meal. Just out of the corner of your eye, your ex appeared.

“Hey,” he said, walking up to you and trying to analyze the situation. “You weren’t there when I landed.”

Crosshair’s arm instinctively wrapped around you as a sudden jolt shook your chest. The man in front of you represented the past. The man next to you was your future.

“I assumed you were fine,” you answered. “You said it was going well when we talked last.”

“I’m just used to seeing you right when I get in,” your ex said with a hint of disappointment.

“You’re seeing me now,” came your reply. “You know Crosshair?”

“I’m familiar,” your ex replied with a nod in your boyfriend’s direction. “Maybe we can get dinner. All of us, if you prefer. Catch up.”

You nodded and he left.

Crosshair pulled you closer and left a firm kiss on your temple.

“I don’t like him,” he growled while leaving money to cover the tab.

“Why?” You sipped the rest of your drink.  “He’s actually nice. He was just surprised to not see me.”

“I don’t like the thought of you waiting around for him and being heart broken. I don’t like you not getting what you need.”

You looked up at him and only found sincerity and concern on his face. Maybe some frustration, although you knew it wasn’t directed toward you.

“I’m not broken-hearted anymore,” you reassured. “I just want you.”

Crosshair stood up and pulled you up with him. You walked home and waited until you were alone to bring up the subject again. Crosshair was interested, but as he preferred not to be pushed for information, he also didn’t push you.

He lay back on the sofa and you curled up against him. The skies darkened outside as he traced circles on your back. The story of your past relationship came out of your mouth in a stream of consciousness. Crosshair listened and held you a little closer as you got more emotional. You described your hopes and wishes, the ways your life was different, how things fell apart, what happened since. You went quiet and a peaceful chorus of soft rain fell on the window above you. It was a relief to let go of the past.

After some time, Crosshair broke the silence.

“I want to give you what you need.”

“You do.” You looked up at him and kissed the back of his hand. “I love you and I want to give you what you need. And what you want.”

“I love you too,” he replied. He pulled you into a fiery kiss and mumbled something about being more comfortable in bed with you.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Darkheart and child Reader

just got my new glasses in need to adjust to them i’ve got like a fishbowl effect going on, but it’s friday and im tired, might nap but i wanna try and do this before i nap

reviewed his wiki as i do with every request, one of TWO trivia on his is that he wouldn’t be a good parent… lmaoooo

- You weren’t the one to find Darkheart, he was the one to find you, he was walking through dark alleys at night, like he usually does, he’s weird, when he heard faint breathing, his curiosity got the better of him and he went to investigate, that’s when he found you asleep in a box, rather young and quite dirty, under regular circumstances he’d ignore you and carry on but something felt different about you, so he turned himself invisible to mortals and watched you

- He watched you for a few days, as you survived day to day finding food and shelter, clothing and water, whatever you needed, it was amusing to him honestly, but a part of his did take pity on you

- So one night as you were winding down trying to find a good place to sleep it began to rain, you ran for shelter at some random business’ back door that had a small awning and you sat there, it wasn’t big enough to lie down without rust of getting wet and it had a light anyways so you tried to just wait it out, that was until you noticed something, from deeper in the alley on the shadows a very creepy smile

- You screamed before slapping your hands over your mouth, he approached and as the light shined on him you realized he was one of the SFotHs, he knelt down to your level and told you he had been watching you, and if you’d like to accompany him, you took his hand and next thing you knew you were in his realm, it was honestly kind of scary there but it wasn’t raining which was nice

- Darkheart in his usual fashion chuckled quietly to himself as he watched you look around, he asked if you were hungry which obviously you said you were, so he gave you some grilled fish, not cut up or anything just a fish he had grilled whole, you ate as much as you could

- From then on you were almost always in his realm, it was safer there and he’d given you some sort of shelter, not quite a house but it was close, and he’d get you food and clothing and such, he wasn’t great at it but he tried, he also did not have a good concept on what mortals can or can’t eat so it was a learning period, he still occasionally brings you weird things thinking they’re food, but he’s done it less as times went on

- For the most part you usually leave him realm only to accompany him fishing, he teaches you how to and gives you a rod far too big for you, when it breaks because whatever bit the line was stronger then you that was the only time you saw him frown, it was basically his smile but upside down, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing because he looked rather silly, he got you a smaller training rod instead which works far better, it even had a rubber ducky bobber!

- He gets you occasional toys but they’re almost always older wood toys, like blocks, wheel ducks, that ladder thing, you do appreciate them but only so much fun can come from them, you do get stuffed animals though, specifically any and every fish stuffed animal he finds he gets and gives to you, you have an army of trout plushies

- When Venomshank learns of you he flips, he knows his brother has not been taking proper care of you seeing as you are a young child, he immediately brings you proper clothes and food, since his brother just gave you his own clothes to wear despite you being like half his height, he also gives you Sword’s old toys so that was nice, he comes by regularly to make sure you’re being taken proper care of, when Venomshank confronted his brother about it he just said ‘oopsies’

this was fun i’m going to sleep now