#I just look at them warily because “how many times do we need to teach you this lesson old man?!”

[courtanie]

Okay but like there's a fundamental problem with the common headcanon/wish for the show where Husk gambles Valentino for Angel's soul. (Mind you this doesn't apply to AUs where Husk still has his soul, this is regarding the canon timeline, but I digress.)

Husk would (or SHOULD) know better than to go that route. How did Husk lose his soul again? The man knows how severe the consequences are when you lose that gamble. And Alastor owns his soul so he can't put that on the line, so it's literally going to be 'does Val get full ownership of Angel's soul or none of it'. That is an insane amount of stakes, no matter how confident he is that Val's stupidity will outweigh the potential for his loss. But before 'Loser, Baby' when he's talking to Angel about his loss to Alastor, he's speaking of regret, of understanding the consequences that he inflicted upon himself. So WHY would he potentially put Angel through that? Yes on one side is freedom, but on the other is him knowing that he caused Angel to become completely ensnared. (Great for angst fic, horrible for actual canon plotline god can you imagine.)

And furthermore, giving that role to Husk really belittles what is looking to be a main arc of Angel's character, which is him gaining his agency back. Listen, I want Husk involved in his freedom coming to fruition, desperately, (and vice versa), but Husk shouldn't be the main cause of said freedom. Angel shouldn't once more find himself as just a pretty little toy with no real say in his fate. We can make an argument that Angel could be the one that asks Husk to do that so it's technically "his" decision, but that would detract just the same I feel. Like sure, let the fight start with Husk, but Angel needs to be the one to finish it.

Angel learning to trust is another important part to his arc, but there's a difference between trust and handing over the fate of your soul to yet another person. Such a scenario would come with an underlying feeling of owing Husk something even if Husk insists he doesn't, and what could make their relationship so special is neither of them feeling obligated to be with the other one, they just want to be. That's a freedom neither of them have had for a long time and taking that opportunity from them, even subconsciously, just seems cruel.

[hartigays]

big brain thot: wheezie being the one to get rafebarry together👀👀

“wheeze, you can’t just show up here like this.”

she hasn’t even gotten off her bicycle yet, helmet still in place and everything. she looks up at rafe with big eyes, rolling them as slowly and dramatically as humanly possible.

“i just did,” wheezie points out, unclipping her helmet and setting it in the front basket of her bike.

rafe eyes her warily, then relaxes a bit. his eyes flicker back towards the trailer. “how’d you even know i’d be here?”

“topper,” she tells him simply, shrugging.

“topper?”

another overly-dramatic eye roll. “yes, topper. he came by looking for sarah and i asked him if he knew where you were. i need help with something.”

“and topper told you i’d be here?” rafe asks, brows raised.

topper is a lot of things, but is he the type of person to send a kid to a coke dealer’s trailer? no, absolutely not.

“i encouraged him,” wheezie replies, a little too vague for rafe’s liking. he narrows his eyes and she sighs. “fine, i kicked him in the crotch until he gave it up. happy?”

rafe snorts at the mental image.

wheezie finally climbs off her bike, standing in front of rafe with her arms crossed. “so, are you going to help me or not?”

he really doesn’t want to say yes. but he’s sort of always had a soft spot for wheezie - she’s one of two people who don’t make him feel completely homicidal.

(the other is sitting back in the trailer, smoking a joint and watching some boxing match on his old as shit tv. the thing has antennas, for fuck’s sake.)

rafe glances back at the trailer again, then turns back to wheezie, scrubbing a hand over his face. “fine. but you can’t come inside, wheeze, i’m serious.”

“why, because of drugs?” wheezie snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “please. i’m pretty sure you smoked weed in my room when i was like, five.”

“that’s not the point,” rafe huffs, his fuse shortening ever-so-slightly. “just tell me what you want.”

for the first time since her arrival, wheezie looks mildly uncomfortable. she bites her lip, looking towards the treeline.

“i want to learn how to fight,” she says, and her voice sounds so small that rafe sort of feels… bad.

which is like a new milestone or whatever, so this is sort of a big moment for him.

“why do you need to learn how to fight?”

wheezie doesn’t say anything for a long stretch. then, her cheeks get red, and the words burst out of her. “i’m getting picked on at school, alright? this girl keeps saying she’s going to beat me up after class and i can only hide from her for so long, you know?”

rafe is mildly taken aback, never figuring wheezie for the type to get bullied. she always seemed self-assured and well adjusted, with a sizable group of friends and an active social life. for a middle schooler, anyway.

“what’s her name?” rafe asks, indignant on his sister’s behalf.

if he had to choose a sister to be the target of bullying, it’d definitely be sarah. wheezie, on the other hand, is just a kid. and if someone is threatening to kick her ass, rafe sure as hell is going to find out who.

“i’m not telling you her name, rafe,” wheezie says. “i don’t want you going and knocking her door down to threaten her or whatever. i want you to teach me how to fight so i can hold my own.”

rafe would probably just kill the kid, not threaten her, whoever she is. but he doesn’t tell this to wheezie, biting his tongue for once.

he rocks back on his heels, then sighs, and beckons for wheezie to follow him into the trailer.

wheezie throws her arms up as if to say fucking finally, following rafe inside.

barry is still smoking on the couch, but when he sees wheezie trailing after rafe, he has the presence of mind to put the joint out with an awkward cough.

“you gonna tell me who your little friend is, country club?”

“i’m his sister, wheezie,” she says before rafe can speak, rolling her shoulders back and holding barry’s gaze steadily.

“wheezie?” barry repeats, then laughs, wagging his finger in her direction. “you funny, kid.”

wheezie gives rafe a look, clearly judging him for his choice of company.

“jury’s still out on you,” wheezie tells barry, eyeing him.

barry actually throws his head back when he laughs this time, and rafe can’t help but eye the line of his throat, his mouth going a little dry.

the worst part is, wheezie notices him staring. she raises a brow at rafe. he just coughs and looks away, regretting every decision he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“look, she wants to learn how to fight,” rafe tells barry. “i figured two heads would be better than one?”

“or you just a pussy and know you can’t beat nobody’s ass, rafe,” barry says, reclining back on the sofa, staring at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

“neither can you,” rafe reminds him.

always reminding him. where rafe has failed, barry has too. rather consistently, as a matter of fact.

“fair ‘nough,” barry says after a stretch, leaning forward again. “two heads, then.”

wheezie coughs, and they both turn to look at her. she gives them a bored look. “are you two done having a moment? or do you still need a minute? because i can step outside if- ”

“shut up, wheeze,” rafe groans, pushing her towards the couch.

they spend the next hour and a half discussing fighting techniques, and the cardinal rules of fighting. the ones rafe and barry abide by, anyway.

there aren’t many. they spend the majority of the time discussing technique.

when wheezie gets sick of listening to them yammer on about the different types of headlocks, she starts to get restless.

“oh my god, i didn’t come for the rules of fight club, alright? will one of you just show me how to punch this bitch in the face?”

both barry and rafe shut up immediately, barry’s mouth dropping open in mild surprise.

rafe just snorts, mumbling fair enough under his breath.

and that’s how rafe ends up watching barry do some sort of shadow boxing with wheezie in the living room. rafe re-lights the joint, watching the scene before him in amusement.

“no, kid, you ain’t gotta do all that fancy shit with your legs,” barry is saying at one point, then demonstrates some sort of kick for her.

rafe forgets sometimes that barry has military training, and despite the fact that he gets his ass beat on a regular basis, he’s a pretty damn good teacher.

the joint is long gone by the time wheezie looks at her watch, cursing.

“shit. rose is gonna kill me,” wheezie mutters, fumbling for her phone.

“just tell her you’re staying at a friend’s,” rafe suggests. “it’s too dark for you to bike back anyway.”

“you could always drive me, you know,” wheezie reminds him. then, her eyes flicker down to what’s left of the joint (basically, the filter) and backtracks. “well, he could.”

she’s pointing at barry, and barry shrugs.

rafe, however, finds himself wanting wheezie to stay. dare he say it, he might’ve actually missed his sister.

he’s pretty sure he’ll regret it later, but regardless he says, “we’ll get you something to eat and you can crash here if you’re too tired to go home after.”

something to eat ends up being freezer-burnt pizza rolls, but wheezie doesn’t complain. she eats her food while scrolling through her phone, glancing up at rafe and barry every now and then.

they’re conversing quietly about a drug deal they have set up later, a big one. rafe doesn’t think wheezie is listening, but he also doesn’t notice the way she keeps glancing up at them, her eyes flickering between them with an unreadable look on her face.

and then, out of nowhere, “are you guys dating?”

rafe looks at her sharply and he sees barry do the same out of the corner of his eye. barry’s mouth had shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together, and rafe can see him rubbing at his jaw.

“what the hell, wheeze?”

wheezie raises her hands in mock-surrender, but still rolls her eyes. “it’s just a question, geez. but thanks for the answer.”

“the fuck is she talkin’ about?” barry asks, his gaze flickering between rafe and wheezie.

“you two,” wheezie explains slowly, looking almost bored. again. rafe is starting to think he’s had a bad influence on her. “you’re dating, right? like that’s why you’re always here, right?”

the latter question is directed towards rafe, and he feels his stupid cheeks betray him, burning red.

“oh, right. you’re men, of course you haven’t talked about it,” wheezie sighs, then stands up and brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts. “well, i conveniently have to use the bathroom, so. use this time wisely, i guess?”

then wheezie disappears from the small kitchen, leaving rafe and barry sitting in thick, palpable silence.

“so… what the fuck just happened?” rafe asks when he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer, pointedly not looking at barry.

when barry shifts in his seat, rafe can feel it, and he realizes all at once just how close they’re sitting.

“she thinks… “ barry trails off, shifting in his seat again.

“that we’re dating,” rafe finishes, swallowing around the golf ball-sized lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat.

rafe can feel barry looking at him. he can feel the heat of his gaze, and wow, wheezie is taking a really long time in the bathroom.

“that what we been doing, country club?” barry asks, and rafe looks over at him so quickly that his neck pops.

rafe searches barry’s face for any trace of humor, but comes up empty.

they’ve been practically living together for months, ever since rafe gave up trying to please ward and joined barry’s little side business. and if he really thinks about it, they have lapsed into something almost nauseatingly domestic.

it’s like. like rafe’s been in this weird, fucked up relationship this whole time, and he’s just now realizing it. and realizing, at the same time, that he doesn’t want it to end now that wheezie has gutted them both and laid everything out in the open, where neither of them can hide.

jesus fucking christ, is he in love with barry? barry the drug dealer?

well, rafe supposes that’s what he would call himself now, too, so. maybe it makes some sort of sense after all.

“i don’t think so, but i think we should now,” rafe finally says. he doesn’t know why he says that last bit, it just sort of slips out before he realizes what he’s saying.

but he doesn’t take it back either.

barry is too quiet next to him. the silence goes on for far too long, and rafe is starting to debate internally whether or not he should dump wheezie’s body in the swamp or somewhere off shore.

finally, barry speaks. “startin’ to think you may be onto somethin’, rafe cameron.”

“so is that a yes?” rafe huffs, already feeling exposed enough as it is. he doesn’t need barry speaking in shades of gray.

suddenly, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, gentler than rafe would’ve anticipated, and then barry is turning rafe’s head and kissing him.

like, really kissing him. rafe feels like he’s being turned inside out, his insides shifting and adjusting, rearranging and adapting to make room for barry.

it’s not a particularly long kiss, but it’s sure as hell the best one rafe has experienced in his life.

“they teach you that in the army?” rafe asks when barry pulls away, aiming for nonchalant but failing due to the heavy rise and fall of his chest. and the fact that he can’t stop staring at barry’s mouth.

barry just smacks the back of rafe’s head, shoving him lightly. “get the fuck out my kitchen, country club.”

rafe is about to respond when the bathroom door opens, and wheezie pokes her head out.

“ugh, thank god you’re finally done. you should invest in a bathroom fan, you know,” wheezie tells barry, “i could literally hear everything.”

she shudders and gags, barry laughs, and rafe vaults himself out the nearest window.

well, he tries to. barry catches him by the waist easily, dragging him back into his seat. wheezie just rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“okay, well, since you’re done being a drama queen, i think i’d like that ride home now.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 29 - ao3 -

“In the future, you should send your children to the Cloud Recesses for me to teach,” Lan Qiren said. He was sitting with Wen Ruohan on one of the rooftop gardens in the Nightless City, watching the moon and stars from a pavilion placed there for that purpose; their bodies were pressed close together, and it felt as if they were far away from all the things that were familiar. “You and Lao Nie both, and naturally I’ll come visit with you often as well, bringing my nephew. Between the three of us, we might even be able to teach them how to be proper human beings.”

Wen Ruohan laughed in his ear and pressed his lips to his cheek – he had taken to kissing him at random, spontaneous, as if still overwhelmed by the fact that he now had the right to do it.

“I will,” he promised. “I agree, I think they’ll turn out better that way…you would really have me educate your precious little A-Huan?”

“If I’m willing to entrust myself with you, why not him? Anyway, I can teach him music, and with the aid of the other teachers in my sect the sword in the Lan sect style, but you can teach him much more than that. You know how to look at the world and see it for what it is, and then bend it to your will, make it sing to your tune. He’ll be sect leader in the future; he needs to learn that, and you can teach it to him.”

“I can, and I will,” Wen Ruohan said, then thought for a moment and asked, “What does Lao Nie bring to the table?”

“Flexibility, mostly.”

Wen Ruohan barked out a laugh. “He certainly has that.”

He didn’t even sound bitter about it any more.

Lan Qiren smiled.

“In the meantime, I will handle the rest of it,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren looked at him in silent question. “Come now, Qiren. Did you really think that I would allow you to remain caged in the Cloud Recesses your whole life?”

Lan Qiren paused. That was the sorest part of his heart, his most painful misery, but he didn’t think Wen Ruohan would bring it up casually. If anything, he was a bit more afraid of what Wen Ruohan might get into his head to do about it – there was very little Wen Ruohan wouldn’t dare.

“Da-ge –” he started warily.

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said, lightly scolding. “Little Lan, be serious! I already rejected the opportunity to cage you here at the Nightless City, playing only for me, despite how much I longed to do so. I refused to do it – me, refusing myself – because I knew it would only make you sad. Do you really think I would allow other people a privilege that I have denied myself?”

Lan Qiren did not laugh, but he dearly wanted to. It might be the first time he’d ever wanted to laugh about his situation – not even Cangse Sanren had managed that. “Has anyone told you that you are extremely self-absorbed?” he asked instead. “Arrogance is forbidden. Do not be haughty and complacent.”

Wen Ruohan smirked back at him. “All true, little Lan, but don’t forget your favorite: Do not tell lies.”

Self-absorbed, narcissistic and arrogant, Lan Qiren concluded, and there was no helping it. It was clearly a terminal case.

He used his sleeve to hide his laughter.

“What are you planning, exactly?” he asked once he had recovered. “If you harm my sect, whether directly or indirectly by denying them my services, I would be even more upset than if you tried to lock me away in here.”

Wen Ruohan waved a hand dismissively. “Do you think me so incapable? I have already begun making arrangements. Discussion conferences may only be once or twice a year, being as they are tremendously irritating to arrange, but there’s no reason that we of the Great Sects should not recognize our greater duty towards the smaller sects, and not to mention our obligations to protect the mortal world –”

“You know that it exists, then?”

Wen Ruohan ignored him. “The resources of cultivation clans are limited, and the world large. There are many places which would benefit from aid that do not see any simply because they are far away or tucked in inconvenient places, and no sect lives nearby – naturally, it is our duty to fight evil no matter where it is encountered. Lao Nie has already agreed that it is critical that the sect leaders demonstrate our sincerity by fulfilling this duty in person, leading by example.”

Lan Qiren’s heart had already felt as if it were overflowing with warmth, and it felt even more so now, almost squeezed to pain by how much joy was there. More than he had known he could contain.

Bad luck in brothers, he thought to himself - but oh, he had such good luck in friends!

“I see,” he said, thankful that his usual neutral tone concealed how happy he felt. “And naturally, where you and Lao Nie go, Sect Leader Jin cannot be far behind in his eagerness not to lose out, and where three of the five Great Sects lead, naturally the rest cannot be far behind. So I, too, will be obligated to...what? Go out on night-hunts in inconvenient places?”

“The world is too large, and the number of cultivators too few – and at any rate, there’s no point in setting up a full night-hunt which draws in every person from a thousand li for a few paltry fierce corpses or a ghost or two. I propose, instead, that we would send cultivators out alone, in pairs or in small groups, to wander for a few months through the remote places in the world and clean them up. Then, at the next discussion conference, the Great Sects could jointly agree that whoever was most enterprising would receive a reward, and naturally, stories of various exploits could be exchanged – ”

“Ah. Another reason for young men and women to gather and boast of improbable exploits.”

“Think of it as giving them more opportunities to win glory,” Wen Ruohan said. “And stop talking down about ‘young men’; you are a young man. Naturally you are also qualified to go out to do such things. Required, even: if our Great Sects do not set a proper example, who will?”

“Mm. A proper example. Even if I coincidentally happen to spend more time playing music than hunting demons?”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes were bright. “Even so. And naturally, you could always bring along someone more powerful to do the demon-hunting for you…”

“How convenient.”

Wen Ruohan smirked. “Do you doubt that I will be able to make it happen, little Lan?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, then added, honestly: “I think you could take over the world if you wished.”

“Naturally! But it would be quite irritating, I think, if I had to also ensure that both you and Lao Nie did not disapprove of my methods…” He paused, lips twitching. “By coincidence, while we’re discussing convenience, I was thinking that it would be dangerous to send all those wild and reckless young men out there without proper support. Surely it would be only reasonable to set up a few convenient places here and there, not so far away, to provide them with supplies and a place to rest and recover –”

Convenient places that would fly the Wen sect’s flag and spread its influence, Lan Qiren presumed. Lanling Jin would be furious – using wealth to buy influence was their favorite technique, and they resented other people copying it – and would immediately insist on establishing their own set of “supply stations”, and then the rest of them would have to catch up and make their own. Yet another expense, and the Great Sects would need to do more than most; it would probably wreck havoc with the Lan sect’s annual budget.

On the other hand, well the remote parts of the world really did need the help. One of the Lan sect’s newly recruited guest disciples had been talking about a place not far from his hometown that specialized in making coffin goods; it was, according to him, the most inauspicious place that could possibly be imagined…

Not a place anyone might want to go, unless they truly were intent on traveling.

Lan Qiren smiled once again. He thought he might never stop smiling.

“Indeed,” he said, trying to sound dry and rational. “Very coincidental. No one will doubt that this is nothing but a scheme to expand your reach and power, rather than any personal motive.”

Wen Ruohan did not answer, but instead, matching a smile of his own to Lan Qiren’s, pressed his lips against Lan Qiren’s once more.

After a little while of silence, Lan Qiren cleared his throat and asked, “Do you intend to tell people?”

He was not referring to Wen Ruohan’s plans for the future.

Wen Ruohan understood.

“In time,” he said. “As much as I would love to shout that you are mine and I am yours from the rooftops and perhaps have bulletins be posted to every town -”

Lan Qiren grimaced. It would be one thing if he thought Wen Ruohan was exaggerating for romantic effect, but unfortunately it would be just like him to engage in that level of over-the-top grandstanding.

“– but your position is not yet certain, and my reputation is too questionable. People would make assumptions and spread malicious gossip, and I – I would not harm you to please myself.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“It’s not sweet-talking when it’s true,” Wen Ruohan protested, although he was chuckling. “When you are more renowned as a teacher than a sect leader, when little A-Huan is old enough to have passed the worst stretches of childhood – then we will announce it, and let the rest of the world choke on it if they like. You, me, Lao Nie…hmm. Jin Guangshan will probably think we’re concealing a conspiracy and ask to join in.”

Lan Qiren gagged. “I refuse,” he said. “I don’t care if I’m not physically involved, neither you nor Lao Nie are allowed to even think about it. That man has visited so many prostitutes that one might be forgiven for thinking he believes that the road to immortality is paved with venereal disease.”

“…thank you, that was an image I did not require.” A pause. “Jiang Fengmian –”

“Remember when he punched me in the face in a fight over a girl I didn’t even want?”

“It wasn’t a serious suggestion.” Wen Ruohan chuckled once more and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Some years ago now, I swore to your Cangse Sanren that I would do right by you. I ought to invite her here and show her that I’ve made good on it.”

“You haven’t made good on it.”

“I haven’t?”

“No. Such a promise is fulfilled through the keeping – if you want to do right by me, there is no one singular moment that would qualify, but rather a continuing obligation.” Lan Qiren smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, da-ge. You’ll have to continue to do right by me for the rest of our lives.”

“I will,” Wen Ruohan said, and smiled back. “It would be my pleasure.”

-END-

[hello-everyfandom]

“I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

Warnings: Light swearing

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Your love language is Gift Giving

(This is apart of my series “Love Languages”, please check it out!)

“Close your eyes.”

“Should I be worried?” George asked quite warily. 

“Will you just-” you huffed, “Please?”

“At least let me know what I’ve done wrong before you jinx my tongue to the top of my mouth.” George jokingly pleaded.

“If you know what’s best for you,” you lowered your voice to match his joke, “you’ll close your eyes.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you,” George placed a grin on his lips, the dimple of his left cheek becoming more and more prominent. 

“Now, hold out your hands,” you said feeling more and more excited.George hesitantly put his hands out in front of him and jokingly flinched when you touched him. His comedic flinch made you laugh as you scanned him over to ensure his eyes were shut. Satisfied with George’s compliance, you slowly reached into your bag to pull out a wrapped gift. When it was safely in his hands, George’s fingers crinkled around the wrapping paper. He opened his eyes and saw you looking excitedly from the gift in his hands and to his confused face. 

Instantly, George began to sweat. Had he forgotten an anniversary? Or a birthday? Or some other holiday? 

He cursed in his mind, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Go on then!” you smiled, “open it!”

George looked uncertain as he slowly unwrapped the gift revealing a small box. He lifted the box to see a small shaped coin. “It’s... uh.” He asked, picking it up and fiddling it with his fingers.

“It’s a coin!” you giggled at his confused reaction, “I bought it when I was in Russia over the summer to visit my cousin at Durmstrang.

“Oh! It! It is a coin! I love it!” George moved to pull you in a hug before you chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not just a coin. It’s a coin that has been enchanted.” You pointed to the head on the coin, “When you flip it, it’ll tell you whether or not someone is near you. See?” You took it out of his hand and flipped it in your hand, immediately it flipped to Heads. “For pranking, yeah?”

George looked at the coin in wonder and then again at your adoring face. “I... I love it.” He put a hand on your cheek and leaned to press a loving kiss to your lips. “But, I...”

“What is it?” you asked, holding his hand to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, love. I think I... I think I forgot our anniversary or birthday or... I don’t. I’m so unbelievably sorry!” George spewed out.

“What!” you exclaimed in surprise, “No! No, no. Our anniversary isn’t until October!” you began to laugh, “I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

George let out a breath of relief before feeling tense once again, “But, I didn’t get you anything...”

You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, “I don’t expect you to! It was just something for my love, that’s all.” you looked up to see George’s concern written within his brows, “Really! I just got it for you because I thought it would be nice.”

George shook his worry and began to smile, “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, I know. I’m the most glorious girlfriend in the entirety of the world.”

“And so humble as well.” George grinned before giving you another long kiss. 

George grew up with seven siblings. While he grew up with hand-me-downs and knitted clothing from his mother, you grew up on the richer side of the Wizarding World. He wasn’t used to receiving expensive gifts and frankly felt a little uncomfortable and insecure. All the gifts you had given him must have cost a fortune, something he would never truly acquire. And although he loved his family and his upbringing, he cannot help but feel shameful at the fact that he cannot shower you in gifts as you did to him. 

It began with a new quill, then some pranking supplies, and soon the smaller gifts like the flowers you collected for him and the ties you bought turned into new robes and wand adjustments from Olivander’s. He accepted them graciously and sometimes even refused gifts as they seemed to be too expensive. With your assurance, he took them with a smile on his face but his head hanging low. 

With your anniversary coming up, George could feel the hole in his pocket becoming larger and larger and the money he had saved up had gone to ensure the twins’ ability to start their own joke shop. 

“I have no idea what to get her,” George flopped down on the couch. 

Ginny, who was sat to his left, looked up from her book.“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow at her miserable older brother and looked to his twin who sat on his right.

“I mean,” George groaned and placed a hand over his eyes, “What do you get the most perfect girl in the world? What do you get her that she doesn’t already have?”

Fred began to laugh, “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I think it has,” Ginny chimed in.

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

“Georgie, can’t you see?” Ginny grinned teasingly, “You’re whipped.”

“Like Mum’s Christmas cream, you’re entirely whipped,” Fred added.

George sat up instantly and looked at his siblings with annoyance, “Well, we already knew that!”

Fred and Ginny joined together in laughter, noting how George’s vein is popping out of his forehead. 

“Will you two stop your bloody, dumb, shitty teasing and just-” George groaned again and flopped back on the couch, “Help me?” He asked almost pathetically.

“How much did you want to spend?” Ginny asked, quieting her laughing.

“I don’t know! I just know that I don’t have enough.” George moaned.

“A necklace for the lady, perhaps?” Fred suggested making George shake his head.

“She’s already got enough necklaces and jewelry to fill an entire block on Diagonalley.”

“New quill?” Ginny added,

“No, she’s got her school supplies shipped from some store in America.”

Ginny and Fred began to suggest more and more things to which George either did not like because they were not “you” or because you already had them.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “What the hell can you buy?”

Fred thought for a moment, putting his fingers to his lip as he usually did deep in thought. “What if you don’t buy her a gift?”

“And what? Don’t get her anything at all?” George said sarcastically, “Good plan, you bellend.”

Fred reached over the arm of his chair and gave his twin a good wallop on the shoulder, “No, you dickhead. Don’t buy her anything.”

Ginny caught onto Fred’s idea and nodded, “That’s actually not a bad idea, Georgie, don’t buy her anything.”

“Hello??” George yelled, “Are you two not thinking right?”

“George, stop being a smart arse,” Ginny berated, “Get her something homemade instead.”

George opened one of his eyes to look at his sister who stared back at him in annoyance. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Ginny mocked, “Make her something.”

George groaned again making Ginny and Fred roll their eyes. “But I can’t make anything but dung bombs.”

“Then, you’re out of luck,” Ginny stood up, dusting off her pants. 

Before she could leave, George bolted up and grabbed her wrist. “Gin!” He yelled, “You know how to knit, yeah?”

“Uhm,” she looked to Fred for assistance, “I guess, Mum tried to teach me once, but I-”

“Brilliant!” George grinned, feeling his frustration seep away, “Then you’ll teach me!”

“Georgie,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I don’t really even know how to knit myself, nevertheless be able to teach you.”

“But, you’ll help?” He asked, putting his puppy dog face on.

Ginny looked at her older brother, her weakness, and let out a sigh, “Fine, whatever.” George shouted in victory, “But, you have to also write Mum and ask her because she knows more than I do. And... you have to tell Y/N that the idea was mine.”

George reached up and kissed his sister’s cheek making her scream in disgust, “Yes, done and done! You are the best sibling in the entirety of the world.”

George turned sharply and sprinted up the stairs to write a letter to his Mum.

“What the hell am I then?” Fred crossed his arms, “Toasted squid?” 

The following days were spent with Ginny and George trying, and rather unsuccessfully, to knit a sweater for you. Fred watched in the background making witty and snide comments. Molly had written back with such haste that Pigwidgeon was nearly on his last breath before arriving at Hogwarts. She sent many words of encouragement and told him that he was the absolute “sweetest” which was in large contrast to Ginny’s frustrated and rather harsh criticism.

“No! You’re supposed to go over not, George! Have you even been listening this entire time?”

“Of course I have,” George said defensively, “It’s just confusing, that’s all.”

“Why can’t we just use magic?” Ginny whined.

“Because then it wouldn’t be homemade, hence the word, home, little sister.” George frowned, “What does it matter anyway? She won’t like it.” 

“Georgie,” Fred pushed off of the wall he was leaning on, “Stop being such a worry-wart.” He patted a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N is the sweetest girl, just because she’s richer than Merlin knows and can afford whatever she wants and doesn’t have to care about-”

“Alright, get on with it, Fred,” George warned.

“She’ll love it no matter what.” Fred finished, sending his twin a much needed reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” George sighed and picked up the needles once again. “Now, what the hell do I do again?”

By the time your anniversary approached, you were nearly bouncing with joy. You had gotten George the perfect present, something he’d never ever expect. Thankfully, your anniversary landed on a Sunday so you woke up and rushed to get ready in the morning. George waited, anxiously, on the stairs for you until you emerged. 

Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, George was nearly breathless upon seeing you. He gulped as you walked down, seeing the gold necklace your parents had gifted you for your last birthday and pearl earrings they’d given you after getting amazing marks on your exams. 

“Hi,” you said softly, locking your fingers with his.

“Hi, darling,” he said back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you sighed contently and began to walk to the portrait.

“Now, what shall we do on our momentous day of love?” George asked, swinging your joined hands. 

You pulled your bag up closer on your shoulder and smiled back.“I think,” you paused, “we should go on a walk. A long, romantic walk.”

“Then a walk we shall take!” George led the way, pulling you through the corridors making you giggle. 

It was a delightful day spent with kisses and fond memories. You snapped a few photos of your boyfriend with the old camera you had bought.

“Now, I’ll never understand,” George raised his eyebrow, “Why you have a camera older than time itself rather than one of those new, fancy-schmancy cameras.”

You looked admiringly at the photo your camera just printed. As it developed, you could see the two of you, cheeks pressed together, you with a shy smile and George with his tongue sticking out. Another photo you had taken moments before was a snapshot of George’s lips pressed to your cheek and you could just make out the blushing on your face.

“Well,” you looked back up at your boyfriend, “I just happen to love old, worn things I suppose. Why do you think I’m with you?” you added, teasingly.

“Oi,” he defended, “ ‘m only a few months older than you, love. And I’m not worn, I’m newer than a baby’s bottom. You’re the only girl ‘ve been with.” 

“Only? As in there will be more?” you asked, a taunting tone on your tongue. George looked at you, as lovingly and as gentle as he ever could, and thought nothing more of the life you two would have. Happy, content, any other words that describe a healthy and romantic relationship. His thoughts began to waver at the idea of how he’d only be able to afford a small flat, that is if the joke shop even took off in the first place. He thought of all the expensive things he could never afford and how you may resent him. As you looked at him, you thought of the happy children you’d have and the copious amounts of dogs and cats you’d care for. George swallowed harshly.

“Only.” He repeated. You blushed once again and leaned to kiss him. The feeling of your touch on his made George fall quicker, deeper, and madly in love. 

After dinner in the Great Hall, in which George absolutely refused for anyone to sit next to or in front of you in order to make it more “private,” the two of you were laid, cuddled on your bed. George could feel the anxiety and panic set in when he realized soon he’d be giving the girl of his dreams a disappointing gift. 

You hummed, sweet with content, and put your chin on his chest. “I’ve never been happier.”

“I’m so glad,” George ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the stray ones behind your ear. “But,” you said as you sat up, “I do believe anniversaries come with a certain type of exchange.”

“Oh?” George asked, sitting up as well. His fingers felt knotted and his throat was closing up. He had sneaked his gift in, awfully wrapped in some colorful parchment, and placed it under your bed.Be confident, George pleaded and tried his best to act cooly. 

“I’ll go first, may I please, please go first!” you begged. 

George bit his tongue, much preferring he’d go first in order to deal with the disappointment before anything and also give you a chance to dump his impoverished arse.

“Of course, darling,” he nodded making you squeal in delight. George breathed deeply and closed his eyes, holding his hands out as he usually did when you gave him gifts. In his hands, he could feel a box wrapped with a bow.

“Alright, go on!” you nodded eagerly. George let out a shaky breath before carefully removing the bow and lifting the lid. To his delight, he picked up a pair of wool socks that were embroidered with small hearts on the sides. “It’s-”

“Socks!” you finished for him, “Because you get cold feet, remember? Now, when you are playing Quidditch or cold at night, you can wear them and think of me!” George broke out in a grin and thanked the heavens for his girlfriend and all the luck in the world that it took for him to find her. “I love them.” 

“Really?” you asked, pointing at the hearts, “I did those myself!” 

“They look wonderful, I absolutely adore them.” He leaned and kissed you. 

The kiss was long as George put a hand on your neck to pull you closer. His lips moving against yours made butterflies take flight and your bones become weaker. As he pulled away, you rested your forehead on his trying to catch your breath.

“My turn?” George asked making you nod. George pulled out his crappily wrapped gift, that Ginny told him off for, and put it in the bed. 

“Oh! Wrapped it yourself, I see?” you teased. George nodded proudly, becoming more and more confident in his gift. 

As you lifted your fingers to rip the paper off, you paused and faced him with another sly smile.

“Alright! Okay, I was going to save it till the end of the night, but I simply cannot wait.” George’s eyes widened as you jolted off of the bed. “You didn’t think I only got you socks, did you?” you asked, moving towards the trunk at the end of your bed.

“No, wait, Dear, the socks are lovely, I don’t need another-”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it!” you sent him a wink, “Now, this one is the actual gift.”

“Actual gift?” George stuttered.Pulling out a large object, larger than your entire frame, George clenched his jaw. You struggled a bit to put it on the bed but managed and sat down in front of him.

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” your voice made him wince a bit.

You watched in utter excitement as George began to slowly unwrap his gift. Removing all the paper, George nearly fainted seeing his gift. A new broom, one of the best in the world, something he’d never ever be able to buy for himself. A broom, costing more than Merlin knows galleons. 

“So!” you bounced, “Do you like it? I saw at your other games, that bludger took out part of the tail end of your broom and I could not live with myself if you had an accident due to a faulty broom! I went and got it myself,” you said proudly. 

“And! It’s the fastest, rarest, and nicest type of wood, with a partially enchanted seat to help you stay upright!”

George’s hands shook, holding the broom.

“I-”

“Speechless? That was my entire goal!” you raised your fist in victory. 

“Y/N-”

“I know! And, not to mention, now you can wear your socks during the game! Two gifts in one!”

“Y/N-”

“I debated on getting you new gloves, but they wouldn’t be shipped in till middle of November and-”

“Y/N,” George said softly but firmly making you look at him with concern. You had never seen this facial expression on George as his eyes were nearly welled with tears and his lip was red from his biting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frantically, “is it the wrong size? I gave the shopkeeper your height and everything-”

“No,” George said, putting the broom to lean on the wall next to your bed. “I can’t take this.”

“What do you mean? Love, I got it for you!” you laughed, waving your hand.

“No, Y/N, I seriously cannot take this.” You frowned, 

George’s voice was shaky making your heart drop. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too expensive-”

“Nonsense, I saved up for it!”

“Baby,” George said, small and timid, “I cannot accept any more expensive gifts from you.” 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, leaning forwards to grab one of his hands, “the price doesn’t matter to me, I literally could not care,”

“But I care.” George protested. 

You nearly began to cry as you saw a tear dripped down George’s cheek. You sat up so you were sitting on your knees and gingerly placed your hands on his cheeks.

“My love, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?” you whispered, rubbing soft strokes with your thumbs. 

“I...” George struggled to find the words to describe how awful he felt, “I cannot take your gifts. And... and I’ll never be able to give you these types of gifts.”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you began to furiously shake your head, “George Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll never be able to give you expensive things like necklaces or pearls or nice perfumes or nice suppers at fancy restaurants. I’ll never be able to give you the gifts you deserve. You deserve to be treated like a princess or a queen or anything and I cannot give you that, I can’t.” George let out.

You thought of his words in utter disbelief. Never once did you ever think of George’s economic standing and neither did you care. 

“But you do treat me like a princess,” you encouraged, making George moan with more tears, “You do. You tuck me in when I’m all tired from classes and make me cuppa’s in the morning. You massage my shoulders when I’m stressed and you hold my hand when you know I’m anxious.” You pushed his head up so your eyes met, “I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t care if you cannot give me expensive gifts or fancy dinners or anything, I care that you love me and want me to be by your side.”

“But, you give me all these-”

“I do it because I love giving you gifts! I love seeing you smile. And not all my gifts are expensive, sometimes I give you flowers I’ve seen or biscuits from the Great Hall. My darling, you do not need to worry if I feel as though you cannot provide for me, because you provide more than enough for me. I don’t care about money or gifts or anything like that.” you assured. 

George went silent and you began to pepper his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses until he cracked and started to smile. 

“I’ve just got the best girlfriend ever, haven’t I?” George asked, pulling you onto his lap. 

You curled into his chest and nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was quiet between you two again until you chimed up, “Well... may I have my gift now?”

“Uhhh, it’s uhh,” George stuttered. “It’s not amazing.”

“Don’t care!” you grinned and picked up his gift. “I’m so excited, I could nearly pee myself.”

George jokingly shoved you, “Oi, blimey well don’t do that. Not while you’re sitting on me at least.” 

You shoved him back before opening his gift. George held his breath as you unraveled the present and saw his gift. Your heart nearly stopped. You picked up the sweater, moving the parchment aside, and placed it on your lap. The sweater was yellow and made with soft wool. On the front, there was a badly made daisy, the flowers you always got for him during the Spring. Touching the fabric softly, tracing over each petal you stared at.

“I know it isn’t much but-” Before George could finish his apology, you took him by surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. Pressing kisses on the crook of his neck, he could feel your smile.

“I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“With all my heart, I’ve never been given something handmade nor something so sweet.”

“I made it... myself.”You picked up the sweater and laughed, “I can tell. How long did it take you?”

George paused, thinking and smiling sheepishly, “A few weeks maybe.”

“And you made it all by yourself? No magic?”

“No magic,” George confirmed, “But, Ginny did help me... she and Fred helped me come up with the idea.”

You shifted in George’s lap, moving so you could toss off the blouse you were wearing and shrugging the sweater on. It was warm and smelled of honey and pine and the string he had used made you feel as if you were wrapped in a hug of his. 

“George... I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” 

George blushed a deep red as you kissed first his cheek and then his lips.

“You’re welcome, Darling. I’m just glad I’ve finally given you a good enough gift.”

“Well,” you kissed the skin of his neck, “I’ll wear it every day. But...”

“But?” George asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“But, I think right now, I’d like it off,” you suggested, lowering your eyes at him.

“Off?” George asked confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Oh, off!”

“You’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snorted before pulling George in for another kiss.  

[in-tua-deep]

Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

[solarwonux]

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all. 

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

02.

everything has changed (whether we like it or not)

When did everything change?

That was an easy question to answer, really. But there was more to it.

Everything could go back to the time Bakugouu first discovered his quirk in kindergarten, he had just turned 5, during playtime, he playfully shoved you before you felt force, heat – an explosion, before faceplanting to the ground.

Little Izuku ran towards you, helping you off your feet. Meeting the panicked look in your best friend’s eyes, you turned back to the blond, staring at his palms in awe, at the little explosions emitting off his sweat.

Funny enough, whenever he sweats, it was always sweet-smelling, never foul or salty.

“Uwah, amazing quirk, Katsuk!” your teacher said, kneeling down to give your best friend an appraising look.

Carmine eyes looked up from his palm, tiny explosives going off excitedly.

“Cool! His quirk’s so cool!”

“It’s so radical, just like him!”

Beside you, Izuku’s eyes sparkled with excitement, happy for your best friend for finally manifesting his own quirk.

“Kacchan’s amazing!”

Discovering your quirk at such a young age, especially with an amazing quirk, should be exciting. However, the look in Katsuki’s carmine eyes was scaring you.

The more he was praised for his quirk, the more his explosions went off, the more the gleam in his eyes was scaring you.

Who is…? What is this?

“Ah, I see. I’m just awesome, and everyone else isn’t!”

Later that day, a small burnt mark was found at the back of your neck. A tell-tale reminder of what’s to come.

And then, Izuku found out that he was quirkless.

It was supposed to be a secret between the three of you, but somehow, everyone caught wind of it and began avoiding Izuku, lest they get caught with his ‘quirkless’ germs. Because you were with him a lot, not showing signs of quirk, kids easily assumed that the quirkless germs were true.

Was that when things changed?

After kindergarten, Katsuki found himself a new set of friends, those who weren’t quirkless like you and Izuku, friends who had cool quirks that could considerably pass up to his.

Since discovering his quirk, not only did it fuel his ego, but it also put a strain on your once impenetrable and inseparable friendship.

Now, he was more bent on being the best of the best, together with his amazing quirk that’ll surely bring him there no problem.

Everyone else were just beneath him, not worth his time, effort, or breath. Especially Deku – how you detested that nickname, so full of malice, disgust, and mockery – everything Izuku didn’t deserve, especially from his once best friend.

Since then, he’s deserted the two of you.

You didn’t care, you had Izuku.

Fuck Bakugou and his new quirk, ambition, and shittiness.

You didn’t need him anyway.

From: Izuku

To: (Name)

(Nickname)! I’m doing well. Just having lunch with my classmates right now!

[image.txt]

Tapping the photo, you could see Izuku smiling at the camera with a few friends in the shot – the brown-haired girl, Uraraka Ochako, the bespectacled boy, Iida Tenya, and the quiet boy, too busy eating his soba, Todoroki Shouto. It made you smile in return, having your own lunch as of texting. 

To: Izuku

From: (Name)

You better eat up, then. You hear me?

Also, stop being so reckless and take care, okay?

Right after the events at UA – the whole League of Villains intercepting the school, Izuku was, more than ever, always brought to the clinic. And you, being one of his immediate contacts (next to his mom), would rush over just to check on him, fighting a tooth and nail just to be with him. And time and time again, Izuku would give you an apologetic smile, matched with his unyielding assuring words, kind eyes, and warm hug.

The only thing you ever hated about Izuku is his recklessness, wrought by his strong sense of justice.

Having enough of everything he’s been through, it was only fair that he revealed something to you, something to explain a bit of him getting accepted at one of the most prestigious schools in Japan while bearing an almost enduring and testy quirk, a secret he knew he could only entrust to you because you were one of the few people Izuku trusted more than anything in the world – his quirk was not his, but it was passed down to him by All Might.

The revelation was shocking to you, especially because it was tied along with so many other factors you couldn’t begin to fathom. But with enough explanation, eventually, everything seemed to tie together and make better sense.

Although worried about his well-being, once again, Izuku was quick to assure you that he was working his best to make everyone – not just his idol, All Might – proud and safe. That was more than enough for you.

Still, it was such a big secret to bear. But, obviously, he trusted you, because you were his best friend.

Well, you and that other guy, for some reason.

"(Name)-san, you're going to snap that broom in half!" your co-worker called out.

Loosening your hold, you inspected the wood, glad to see that it was still intact. It was still three minutes past four, you realize, just a few minutes before dusk.

Sighing, you turned to your co-worker with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Otoha, just got something on my mind."

Izuku did tell Bakugouu his secret in a roundabout way, the blond would at least catch on to that, being a smart asshole. You just couldn’t wrap your head at the idea of having to entrust him Izuku’s big secret.

The younger girl tilts her head to the side, in thought, as she stares at you. "Are you sure? You seem to be out of it since this morning."

"Yeah, I am. Promise."

Right after revealing his secret, Izuku had planned to have you and the famed Symbol of Peace meet – to assure both parties. But you declined, knowing how busy hero work was.

(Also, to be in his presence would be something. You couldn’t deal with that. Izuku going a mile about how amazing he was made up for it.)

However, with the newfound information given to you, it was almost too much to bear. It was amazing to hear how Izuku was adjusting to his new life, working his hardest, granted that he earned it all. Guilt gnawed your insides, realizing that you were doing him a disservice at the same time, as you had your own secret you weren't telling your best friend.

Exhaling through your nose, you walked around back, to return the cleaning supplies, missing the group of people entering the cafe, hearing only the cheery greetings from Otoha and your other co-workers.

05:51 pm.

The café was in full bloom, packed with students from various schools filling all the seats. You’d spot some of your regular customers, most don’t stay long whilst stop just drop by for a coffee fix before they’re off.

From the far corner, a small group of students you could only guess were from UA, judging from their uniform, were making quite a ruckus.

Thankfully, there was enough staff that day.

Still, working was taxing!

Off to handle drinks, you kept the newbies by your side, promptly teaching them how to mix orders, which cups to use for which drinks, the amount of syrup, etcetera before they finished up for you and you were left to prepare another order. Like clockwork, they’d be back by your side for another order, and the process would start all over again.

Seeing as how well they were doing, you decided to leave them to make their own drinks as you worked on your own. Coming up to serve at the bar, readying your smile, your expression froze as you were met with the last person you wanted to see.

"The fuck-"

Not letting him finish, you forced the smile on back before practically shoving the drink into his hands, uncaring that it almost spilled over.

“Oi-“

"Enjoy your drinks, sir!"

Otoha, your young, sweet, co-worker, saw the whole thing, flinched at your gesture, warily watching you turn your back to help fix other orders without another bat towards the blond who just stared. Discreetly walking over, to fix her own order, she whispers, "(Name)-san, do you know him-"

"No."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes."

"But-"

"Otoha," turning to her with a pained smile, you reply. "I've never seen him before in my life. Okay?"

Feeling a shiver run down her spine, the younger girl slowly, nervously nodded. "O-Okay..."

…

“Bakugou my man, are you alright?”

“…”

“That girl looked really pissed at you, do you know her?”

"..."

“Is she an ex-girlfriend? Is that why she was so angry?”

"..."

“Yeah! And you’ve been wanting to head to this café for a while now.”

"..."

“I must admit, she’s kinda cute- “

“I will end you, dunce face.”

09:08 pm

Ever since she applied, you had taken Otoha under your wing and she all but admired you after your first meeting. You both lived in the same area, so you’d take it upon yourself to walk her home, not trusting a young teen like her to walk alone, especially when evil abounded. Also, she was quirkless.

That night, you were walking along the quiet streets, hands in your pockets as Otoha hummed under her breath. You stopped, ears picking up on footsteps – two, no three people were trailing after you. Gently taking the girl by the arm, you led her to another route, to a busier area, hoping to lose them.

Otoha was too gung-ho about her surroundings to understand your predicament, which was probably for the best. Still, you could feel them behind you.

Exiting the busy lane, the two of you crossed the street, turned a corner, into an empty square. Just as you walked in, so did they – three guys in godawful flashy clothes.

Scared, the younger girl hid behind you and you took a step forward, shielding her from their lecherous gaze.

“Can we help you?”

One of them laughed, some pansy in ridiculous SUPRA outfit waltzed towards you.

“Oh no, no, no, can we help you, young misses?”

You had to roll your eyes at that.

“Well, let’s see, it’s late at night,” he drawled, flashing gold in his teeth “two girls are out walking out,” his two companions chuckled “dangerous is it not?”

Your expression remained, betraying nothing. The pansy decided to talk some more, probably on some shit about chivalry.

“And well, we gentlemen thought it would be just right to walk you girls home!” And there it was. “It’s dangerous for little girls to be out so late.”

And he was right.

“Otoha,” you whispered, as he continued to babble. “take this alleyway,” to gesture with a quick tilt of your head, something the guys didn’t notice. “go straight then turn to your first left, you’ll be safe then.”

“E-Eh? How about you?”

Smiling, you met her gaze. “I’ll be fine.”

“…So, little girls, what’s it gonna be?”

Crossing your arms, you sighed. “Well, you guys do have a point…”

They smile amongst themselves, rather smugly.

“But” taking Otoha’s hand, you tugged her towards the alleyway, pushing her with all you have onto her shoulders. “I don’t trust fuckers who look like they belong to the world’s worst dance troupe that easily!”

The younger girl took this as her cue, albeit slightly confused, but fuelled by panic to run for it.

Loosening your bag, you allow it fall off your shoulders, before it hit the ground, and just as his goons were about to touch a hide of Otoha’s hair, you were before him, eyes ablaze with a ferocious, eerily calm expression on your face, before kicking him away from the young girl.

The force of the kick sends him rolling on the dirt before he’s out cold. One down, exhaling and you fell into a stance, eyes yellow like the moon above you.

Bracing yourself for the next assault, your ears picked up something clinking – a weapon? Ah, knuckle braces which circle his entire fists. Ah, his quirk.

Beside him, his other companion put on his glasses, his godawful flashy clothes engulfing him like an armored suit.

Always gotta be ballsy.

The lights flicker above you; you didn’t move from your spot nor did you deter from their sneers.

“You’ll wish you came willingly like a good girl!” screamed armored flashy guy. Fists hammered against each other and the two were dashing towards you.

Despite being outnumbered, adrenaline rushed through your veins, reeling with excitement as you messed with them, toying at every chance you got.

Dodging a fist thrown your way, eyes caught on the armored flashy guy you easily swung low, aiming for his legs, playing a dangerous tango against two. Sweeping low, you managed to just barely block the kick thrown your way, using the awkward push back, forcing the weight unto your back before swiftly kicking him back.

Once knocked out, you focused on fists, quick to press your body flat against the ground to dodge a measly kick, before lifting your body ever so slightly to deliver a kick to the back of his head, slamming painfully to the ground. Two down.

The light above burst, glass flying everywhere as the armored flashy guy smugly laughed to himself. “Now look what you did, little girl. It’s night out~ A dangerous time for little girls like you~” putting on his shades, which were actually night vision goggles, he walked towards the unsuspecting girl. “And I have to take good care of good girls like you~”

Without turning, you grabbed the hand that reached for your head.

“Eh?”

You could hear the thump of his heart, the hitch of his breath, his muscles moving – it was satisfying to know how much he underestimated you.

“What was it you said again,” came your voice, smooth and calm. “you’d take care of a little girl like me?”

Clenching your hand in his, you heard a crack, he screamed in pain, falling to his knees with one hand in the air.

Head turning, he flinched at the sight of you – eyes once were (e/c) gleamed a dangerous yellow, maybe not like the moon, but of a creature of the moon, a dangerous smirk playing on your lips.

“You’re right, it is dangerous to be out this late at night.”

Faster than the eye can see, you elbow him in the face, hearing a satisfying crack, before tossing him away from you.

Exhaling, you felt your nerves come to a calm. Yellow eyes took in your surroundings, ensuring that they didn’t have any more accomplices.

Three bodies, down and unconscious. You were good. With the help of your heightened senses, you found that Otoha had just fled to safety and that there was an unwanted presence behind you, smelling like burnt sugar and spicy cinnamon.

“Can I help you,” without looking his way, you turned to grab your bag from the ground “Bakugou Katsuki?”

Having seen the whole thing, he was rendered speechless, voice caught in his throat. “(N-Name)…” was all he managed to say, clearly shocked at the new discovery. "Oi, oi, oi, what the fuck? Y-You…you had a quirk all along?"

Exhaling through your nose, quite angrily, you nodded. "Yes."

Even without looking his way, you could tell his expression had changed – feel his heart thump slowly, hear the hitch in his throat – completely seething that he was lied to, kept in the dark.

You barely flinched when he grabbed you by the shoulder, rather forcingly. "Then why the fuck didn't you-"

"Tell you? Oh please, don't give me that bull that you wanted to know." Pushing him away, you didn't mind the pain in your abdomen, choosing to distance from him. "It was enough knowing that you thought having a quirk made you the king of the world and those who didn't were peasants. In layman's term, it wouldn't change a damn thing."

Carmine eyes remained on you, wide, heated, for once not filled with anger, but of confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." You sighed, tiredly this time, massaging the bridge of your nose.

"No, tell me."

"What good would it do you?"

"I just want to know."

Scoffing, you shook your head, running a hand through your hair. "Your chances were used up; you have no fucking right now."

And with that, you left.

Despite being quirkless, Izuku managed to make up what he lacked with the help of keen observation that was powered by his fascination with quirks. Thus, began his ‘Hero Analysis’ notebooks, in which he’d list down hero after hero, their amazing feats, quirks, abilities, possibilities, theories – basically, a Wikipedia page. In addition, Izuku was stronger than he looked, especially because he had a heart of gold and a strong sense of justice.

You, on the other hand, could care less about quirks. They were something to behold, true, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still human just with an added bonus, that’s it.

For the longest time, you withheld the one secret you could never have the heart to tell your best friend – you had a quirk of your own. It wasn't an impressive quirk, but it wasn't a bad one either.

Your quirk was called ‘The Night One’ - having heightened senses, agility, and strength but only at night. Most of your abilities were likened to those of nocturnal animals. When activated, your eyes would turn golden yellow. As the quirk made you active at night, obviously, and making you a bit of an insomniac, its drawback was that it made you restless during morning time.

The Yoruichi family came from a long line of martial artists, all of which mastered every martial art known to man. Before you were 10, you'd mastered it all.

Your family was more of an anti-hero, which is why they chose to lay low and pretend they were normal quirkless folks. It was easier to hide in plain sight, after all. The family had a reputation in the underground business, especially for stealth and espionage work.

Eraserhead was a family friend, he was basically your uncle growing up. He was also your idol.

Your quirk first appeared when you got your first period, which was normal for a female in your family. Not only was it terrifying experience, but you didn’t really care much for it, especially since you just wanted to live a normal life free from the expectations of society and the weight of it.

The thought of heroes and quirks made you skeptic, to say the least. And it was thanks to a certain blond.

However, your parents were more than understanding with your views – however jaded they were, assuring you that it wasn’t all bad.

“But since you’re doing this for Izuku’s sake, I don’t see why not.” Your father had said, patting your head gently.

“He’s my best friend,” 7-year old you were quick to say, cheeks puffing.

“Yes, yes, we know. We all know who you’re really setting your eyes for.” Your grandfather said teasingly, causing your cheeks to burn, sticking your tongue out to him.

Laughter left your parents’ lips, your grandfather included. Gently, your mother took you in her arms, smiling kindly at you. “But, (Name), what you’re doing is quite noble. You may not like what I’m about to say, but what you’re doing is a mark of a hero – putting others before yourself.”

“Still, we’re going to work you to the bone in the Yoruichi fashion!”

Both your parents turned sullenly to your grandfather, clearly displeased.

“Father, please.”

“You ruined the moment, old man.”

So, when did everything change?

Was it the time Izuku and you were paired more often during class? Katsuki had plenty of friends anyway. He didn’t seem to mind, stating that it was better than being exposed to quirkless germs.

Was it when Izuku and you would still tagalong to play? In the end, Katsuki would leave you in the middle of a game with his new friends.

Or was it the time Katsuki fell off that log?

You could remember it, clear as day, you and bunch of other kids tagged along to play in the forest, Katsuki leading the charge as always, you and Izuku in the last. The lot of you found yourselves with a log that connected the two cliffs together, but Katsuki just walked on, the rest followed. Halfway through, he slipped on the mossy part of the log before falling into the water.

“KATSUKI!/KACCHAN!” both you and Izuku screamed in unison, scurrying down to help him.

While the rest of your friends called out, watching, the two of you were waddling knee-deep into the water towards your best friend.

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s small voice called. “are you okay? Can you stand?”

Yes, you remember it well. The look in his eyes when Izuku offered his hand, offered him refuge and help. You were next to Izuku, unsure of the tense situation at that single moment.

And what did Katsuki do?

He slapped Izuku’s hand away, throwing away everything you three had in the process.

That’s when everything changed.

Friday, you were working the bar, lazily keeping the counter clean, when the door opened.

“Welcome!” you cried, smile in place, it widened when you were met with green curly locks. “Izuku!”

“Hi, (Nickname)! Uwah, so this is where you work, it’s rather cozy-looking!”

Smiling cheekily, you pressed your palms against the counter, watching as he approached. “Well, it is a café.” Noticing he wasn’t alone, you smiled at the company. “And who are these lovely people?”

“A-Ah, how rude of me! Everyone,” he turned to the small group, who had been watching your interaction quietly. “this is my childhood friend, (Name) Yoruichi.”

“Yo!” you gave a two-fingered salute in greeting.

“(Nickname), these are my friends-“

“I kinda know who they are, Izuku.” You teased, cutting him off, making you laugh. “But, by all means.”

“Greetings, I’m Tenya Iida!” the tall bespectacled boy says, waving his hands robotically, almost dangerously.

“Shouto Todoroki.” The dual-haired boy nods at you, eyeing the menu behind you in interest. Idly, you handed him a menu so he can have a clearer view, he mutters his thanks.

“And I’m Ochako Uraraka!” the lone brunette female says, cheerily, grabbing both your hands in hers. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Deku-kun talks about you a lot!”

“The pleasure is all mine, then. Thanks so much for taking care of my clumsy little broccoli.”

“(N-Nickname)!”

“Any case!” Iida chops a hand in, catching everyone’s attention. “We shouldn’t dilly dally! We must place our orders!”

“No worries,” you wave at him. “it’s pretty quiet this time of the week. But,” fixing your posture, standing a little straight, you put on your work persona. “anything you’d like to order?”

“I’ll have the chai latte,” says Todoroki, having made his decision. “cold, please.”

“Okay,” nodding, you turn to Iida, who orders a hot mocha, Uraraka orders a strawberry Frappuccino with cheesecake on the side. Uraraka turned to Iida and Todoroki, looking checking for available seats whilst waiting for Izuku – you liked them, they were a good bunch.

Turning to the green-haired boy, he was left eyeing the menu rather clinically, taking his time. Poking his forehead, he blinks at you. “Hot Matcha?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know me too well, (Nickname).”

“That I do, Izuku, that I do.”

One thing that never changed though, the one thing you hoped never would, was the friendship you have with Izuku.

masterlist • three

[bts-bay-bee]

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

 You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

 Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

 When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

 Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

 Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

 Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

 “Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

 You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

 “Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

 Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

 “Yes, Sir.”

 He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

 After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

 “Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

 “I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

 “Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

 “No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

 Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

 “Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

 “I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

 “What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

 Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

 “Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

 “As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

 Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

 “I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

 Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

 “I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

 “He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

 “I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

 “Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

 He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

 “Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

 He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

 You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

 “Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

 You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

 “Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

 “Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

 You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

 ***

 “This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

 “Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

 “I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

 “Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

 “Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

 He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

 “This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

 ***

 “Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

 “Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

 “How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

 After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

 “Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

 This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

 His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

 You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

 “Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

 Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

 “I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

 “I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

 “I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

 “It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

 “I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

 As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

 You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

 “Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

 “Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

 Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

 “It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

 Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

 ‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

 After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

 Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

 Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

 “Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

 Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

 “Hello?”

 “Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

 “I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

 After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

 Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

 Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

 Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

 Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

 Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

 “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

 He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

 “God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

 ***

 “Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

 “Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

 “In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

 He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

 “Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again.  “Jimin?”

 As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

 Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

 You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

 In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

 Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

 “I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

 And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

 “Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

 “Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

 “Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

 “I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

 ***

 After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

 He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

 Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

 With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

 “Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

 But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

 ***

 “Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

 That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

 Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

 “Y/N, are you –”

 “Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

 “You’re more than just –”

 “I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

 He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

 “I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

 Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

 ***

 A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

 Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

 ‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

 “Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

 “I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

 “J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

 He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

 “Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

 “Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

 “I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

 “I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

 “Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

 “I’m fine. Go to your room.”

 “Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

 “Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

 You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

 “Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

 “Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

 Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

 “What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

 Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

 “Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

 “No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

 “Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

 “Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

 As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

 “You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

 “Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

 Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

 You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

 Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

 ‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

 Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

 “Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

 Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

 “You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

 “Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

 “I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

 “I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

 His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

 While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

 “Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

 “Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

 “As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

 He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

 “Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

 “J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

 Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

 “Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

 His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

 “You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

 “You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

 “I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

 “Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

 He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

 “I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

 “I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

 “You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

 “That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

 “Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

 “I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

 Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

 “I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

 “Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

 “I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

 “What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

 “Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

 ***

 One year later

 “Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

 “Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

 “Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

 “I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

 A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

 “Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend…”

 “Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

 “Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

 “Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

 “Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

 “Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

 “We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

 “We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

 “Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

 You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

 “Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

 “What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

 “Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

 He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

 “Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

 Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

 “Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

 “Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

 “And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

 “Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

 “Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

 Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

 “Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

 Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

 “Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

 He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

 Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

 After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

 “You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

 “Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

 “Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

 Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

 Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

 He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

 “Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

 A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

 “Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

 Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

 In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

 As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

 “Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

 “Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

 “But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

 “You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

 “I am a good girl – ah!”

 Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

 “Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

 “You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

 With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

 “Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

 “Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

 “Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

 “Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

 His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

 “So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

 “Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

 “Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

 “Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

 Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

 “Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

 “Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

 Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

 “Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

 “You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

 “I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

 “I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

 ***

 ↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

[appleteeth]

Bruce Week Fic #6

Sunday (July 25): Grief, Magic

(Warnings for mentions of domestic and child abuse.)

It was funny, being friends with someone who knew magic. Loki had somehow, after everything they had been through, become one of Bruce’s closest confidant on board the spaceship taking them to Earth. First they would merely nod at one-another in quiet respect, then Loki stopped Bruce in the corridor one day to explain how something seemingly innocuous he had done was actually offensive in Asgardian culture and Bruce, though wary he was tricking him, thanked him. 

Then Bruce would make a habit of finding Loki in the makeshift dining hall and sitting with him, not exactly striking up conversation but letting him know they could talk, if he wanted to. 

A few months into the journey and Loki was spotted laughing loudly at something Bruce had said, and whilst it made Thor a little nervous to see them getting along so well, it was also a relief. They were both part of his Royal Council, after all, so they needed to get along for the sake of his people. 

Then, when Bruce moaned to himself about being unable to find what he needed in the cramped medical bay, Loki produced the vial out of thin air and handed it to him. 

“That still freaks me out,” Bruce told him before taking the vial tentatively. 

“I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t,” he said with a smirk.

“How does it work? Are you pulling items from somewhere else? Are you taught how to use magic or is it instinctual? Could I learn magic or is it an Asgardian thing?”

“No, I was taught by my mother and yes… to an extent. You wouldn’t be able to conjure items or control objects but you can learn basic spells.”

Bruce was excited for barely a second before he frowned. “Are you messing with me again?”

“Bruce, I have come to find you… relatively welcome company. I enjoy our conversations, even if you are a Midgardian.”

“Bit prejudiced, but thank you.”

“So I’m not messing with you,” Loki concluded. “I can give you some basic spells to try that will give you more insight into your being.”

“I, uh, think I’ve had enough insight lately," he said warily. 

And Loki smiled, this time without a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"What if I were to teach you a spell that helped you in ways you never knew you needed?"

Bruce snuck into the medical bay late into the evening whilst the rest of the ship went to sleep. It was the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, especially as Asgardians were so resilient to injury, they barely came to him with less than a severed limb. 

He read through the instructions Loki had written in elaborate cursive, mostly in English but certain words wouldn't translate so he had to work through how to pronounce them before starting. It was oddly pleasant following the instructions step by step, like he was trying out a new recipe, only this was more writing specific phrases in runes than measuring out ingredients. 

He had to write the words as naturally as possible, like he had been writing in the language his entire life, recite them outloud and then… go to sleep. Which was easier said than done when he was expecting something miraculous to happen. He crept back into his shared dorm with seven other passengers and lay down, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would actually help him.

He finally drifted off and there he found himself travelling, not sure what he was facing was a dream or effects of the spell, but welcoming it nonetheless. 

He was standing in an old-fashioned kitchen, meticulously clean down to the top of the cabinets where nobody would ever bother to look. Whoever's domain this was, it was so well looked after it could very well be a showroom. 

There were a few signs of life, however. There was a small stack of plates ready to be cleaned, a few novelty magnets on the refrigerator, a Captain America action figure on the table…

Bruce stopped, looking at the toy and realising where he was. He had spent so long trying to forget his childhood home he didn't even recognise the kitchen anymore. But he knew that toy like it was imprinted on his mind, having spent many hours clutching it, talking to it, wishing the real Cap was there to save him.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, would you like some water?" 

And he spun on his heel to see her. It was so odd to view her now that he was a little taller than her, instead of being small enough to wrap his arms around her legs. She was still as beautiful as the pictures but she wasn't memorialised in his mind like some sort of perfect being. Her sweater was threadbare at the elbows, her hair was a little frizzy (thick curls like his, almost identical in colour) and she had dark circles under her eyes. She also wore glasses, which Bruce had completely forgotten because she took them off for photos. 

"Uh…" he didn't know what to say to her. 

"You must be parched, here," and Rebecca poured him a glass of water from a pitcher she kept in the fridge. "Piping in new houses is never deep enough to keep water cool, not like the old days." 

He was still trying to find words when he realised a vision shouldn't be able to hand him things, and he shouldn't be able to feel the cool water tumbling down his throat. 

"So, you wanted to talk about Robbie?" 

He nearly choked on the last mouthful and hid it with a loud cough. 

"Um, yes," he said, not sure who he was supposed to be in this scenario but going along with it all the same. 

His mother nodded and indicated for him to sit down with her at the kitchen table. Again, it felt so strange to be big enough for a chair he used to sit at every day as a kid, his legs swinging and needing a cushion so he could reach the table properly. 

"His teacher said he's been excelling," she said proudly but then immediately frowned. "You didn't speak to my husband, did you?" 

"No, of course not," and he now knew his role like he had read the script. "Yes, young Br… Robbie has been working really hard and it's clear to see he is clever." 

She smiled, but it was juxtaposed by her sad eyes. "You're going to say he should be in a gifted school, aren't you?" 

"Uh…" 

"Well I'm sorry but he can't. He just… can't." And she sighed tiredly before collecting herself. "I'm sorry, it's just--" 

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "You don't have to explain your reasons. I know you would want the best education for him, but sometimes that can't happen." 

And he couldn't help himself, she was right there in front of him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it in comfort. 

"Thank you," she said quietly. 

"And it's not like kids won't excel as adults just because they missed out on extra tutoring," he continued. "They'll catch up in no time and go on to do great things." 

She smiled warmly and Bruce recognised his own features in hers. He never thought he looked like her, always hating how he was the spitting image of his father, but he saw himself in her smile. 

"I hope so. Do you know he can name every bird he sees? Even the scientific names. He read about bird watching and within a day he was telling me facts about each one." 

Bruce couldn't help but grin, having forgotten about that particular hyperfixation. "Is that so?" 

"If he could… that is, if we agreed he could go to a gifted school, I suspect he would get a scholarship for college, maybe even go early." 

She looked furious, if just for a moment, letting her guard down enough to show how she really felt. Bruce had never seen her angry; she had hid it well when he was small and already so scared of someone else's anger. She had shown him nothing but smiles and positivity, desperate to make his life as normal as possible. 

But he remembered hearing her crying behind the bedroom door, trying to suppress her sobs so she could go read her child a bedtime story like nothing was wrong. The illusion was shattered that day.

"You are doing everything you possibly can for your son. More than everything. You--"

He stopped himself. Was this really a dream or had he really travelled back? What would it mean if he told her?

"I will lay down my life for him," she finished, eyes defiant and full of fury. 

He felt his facade fading, no longer able to pretend he wasn't who he really was. 

"You're going to save my life. Over and over. Until that bastard kills you for it." 

He cried, clutching her hand and unable to look at her. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him. She wasn't supposed to be known as just a wife and mother. She was exceptionally bright in her own right, never one to boast but able to keep up with her husband and nudge her son towards harder sums and thicker books. It wasn't her fault the man who told her he loved her had used that love to control her, to make her feel weak and stupid.

Had she escaped that night, she would have done great things. 

"I know," she said quietly, tears in her own eyes. "I figured I had a shot that night. He usually stays late at the bar and left the car at home, so I thought I had three hours. But I didn't know he had a meeting the next morning and drank a whole bottle of whiskey walking home instead. I miscalculated." 

"It's my fault. You told me to pack but I couldn't find my stupid Captain America toy and…" he wiped his eyes angrily. "I held us up." 

Rebecca reached across the table to wipe the trails of tears from his cheeks.

"You were a child," she said. "It can never be your fault. Hey," and she cradled his face in her hands. "It was never your fault." 

"It wasn't yours either. None of it," he said defiantly. 

She nodded. "Thank you." 

The vision was starting to waver, like an old projection flickering as the film ran out. He clutched her hand desperately, wanting to tell her so much more, to tell her he hadn't wasted the gift she gave him that night. That he had excelled despite everything that happened. That he did everything to make her proud. 

He felt her hand slowly fading, getting lighter in his hand as it faded away. He managed to tell her he loved her before he awoke back on the ship, his face wet with tears. 

The next morning, much to everyone's confusion, Bruce marched straight up to Loki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hugged him tightly. 

[ninaahelvar]

Touch Me

Summary: Since leaving Ketterdam, Nina just wants Matthias to initiate and take control of his passions. So, she teaches him how.

AO3

A/N: I binged the entire S&B and Six of Crows series in like 2 weeks in prep for the show and lemme tell you...matthias was my favourite boi….and the audacity - so, i wrote a fic that’s basically just smut cause i said so and because i cried in my room for the last hour of Crooked Kingdom and i think that’s very sexy of me. Anyway. Enjoy this fic??? Its my first time writing nina and matthias so i’m still fairly new to their character voices and such, so if anything is a little OOC to you, i’m very sorry, i tried very hard.ALSO I USUALLY HAVE THINGS BETA READ, BUT NO SUCH LUCK WITH THIS ONE, SO THERE'S PROBABLY A MILLION MISTAKES, VERY SORRY!

Nina knew that Matthias was somewhat bashful when it came to being intimate - he’d blush up a storm when she’d kiss him, and practically swayed when she held her hands in his - but the fact that they had been living in Ravka for nearly a month since their success in Ketterdam and he still refused to touch her was getting a bit unsettling. Matthias had always been a hard man to understand, his Fjerdan ways so ingrained that it was like flirting with a brick wall, but Nina had persisted, knowing there was a man worth having under all that muscle - she just wished he’d take his passion when it overcame him. 

After yet another night of unsuccessful wooing, Nina was beginning to doubt Matthias had any real intentions of staying with her. Sure, she was aware that Matthias wanted to court her like a good Drüskelle, but they weren’t in Fjerda anymore, he could have his way with her. If he ever took a moment to look at her. Matthias spent most of his days helping out the town with the horses and wildlife - mainly, he was big and burly and most of the women liked to ask him to do things just so they could stare - or he was learning Ravkan a little at a time. 

There were times where Nina thought Matthias was adapting well in Ravka, his only failing was the fact that he didn’t speak much of the language. He gathered a few bits and pieces from other members of the town, but he spent most dinner conversations asking what words meant and scouring through literature to try to learn it with her. He was putting in an effort, even if the land they were in felt foreign and hostile to him; Matthias never had to tell her as such, he was still getting used to things, and it was always going to take him time. 

Matthias returned home, shrugged off his coat and fell into the chair at their dining table, Nina sighed as she looked at him. His hair had finally started to grow again, almost falling into his eyes, even as his head lulled back from exhaustion. Nina walked over to him, dropping her lips down to meet his and he smiled as they touched. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to trim this?” Nina asked in Kerch - a language they shared and both felt comfortable conversing in. She tilted his head from side to side and combing her hand through his hair. Matthias snarled back at her. She giggled as she kissed him again, settling herself down in his lap. “I was joking, Matthias. But you look too Fjerdan as it is, some people in town might get worried and start asking questions if you look like a full Drüskelle.” 

“I will not have my hair cut again,” he huffed. 

“I know, Matthias. But true to learn how to smile. I may love your scowl, but it frightens other people,” 

“I will, little red bird.” He gave a half hearted smile, as though it were still foriegn to do so. 

“Now, eat dinner and we’ll sit and drink kvas while you tell me about your day.” 

As she had said, they ate dinner, and once done, they sat by the fireplace on the rug, Nina’s head on Matthias shoulder, sharing a bottle of kvas as he told her about his day helping where he could around town. He wanted a real occupation, and it was beginning to show.

Nina had assignments from time to time - she wasn’t willing to be a soldier anymore, but Matthias encouraged her to learn her new Grisha powers in practical use, and the only way of doing that with the second army. Sometimes it was limited things like translation mistakes to foreign leaders, or things as disturbing as bringing a person back to ask how they died. Even if it were her new power, Nina didn’t like dead things - it felt wrong to urge the dead from their rest to ask them mundane questions. Nina was beginning to suspect that Matthias would want to join the first army if it didn’t mean betraying his home country. Part of Nina wanted to ask Zoya and King Nikolai if it were at all possible, but it was still an unrealistic idea in anyway case.   

“What does koja mean?” Matthias asked, sipping at his kvas, a drink he still sneered out, regardless of how much he drank it. Nina sat up and stared at him. She knew he was learning Ravkan, but she knew she hadn’t taught him that word yet. 

“Why?” Nina asked skeptically. How did he hear it?

“Anatasia keeps calling it out to me when I chop wood for her and her mother.” Nina huffed, folding her arms over her chest and sulking. She felt like a child as she did it, but she hadn’t recognised how jealous she truly was until he said it.

“That little -” 

“What does it mean?” he persisted, and Nina huffed, standing up and patting down her skirts. 

“Handsome.” Matthias cleared his throat and blushed. 

“If I could speak Ravkan, I’d tell her to stop, you know that.” 

Nina rolled her eyes. “No point. She’d just keep saying it when you couldn’t hear.” Stalking off to their room, she shut the door and threw herself down on the bed, trying not to grumble in her loneliness. 

Nina didn’t know why she was sulking - well, she knew, but she wasn’t sure why she was angry with Anastasia. It was clear that Matthias was handsome, but maybe because Nina couldn’t claim him how she wanted, it felt unnatural to call him hers. She felt foolish and stupid for having walked out on him, leaving Matthias to clear up messes she had made throughout the house. 

It took Matthias less than twenty minutes to make it to their room - a simple bed and nightstand and nothing else furnished the room, a lamp lit beside Nina. She looked up and met his wary gaze, Matthias closing the door behind him and staying by the door.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice rough like everything else about him. Nina sighed, standing and combing her hair from her face. 

“I want to be more intimate with you, Matthias,” she finally admitted.  

“We are intimate,” he said, frowning back at her. 

“Yes, to your Fjerdan sensibilities, but I meant sex, Matthias. I want to have sex with you.” To finally say it felt like a rush of adrenaline going through her - and Matthias reacted the way she thought he would, with bright pink cheeks and avoiding her gaze at all costs. 

“You’re aware I have no real experience with...this?” he said and Nina realised that all the time that had passed between them, she would have to be the one to do things - to say what needed to be said, because Matthias didn’t know how. She took careful steps towards him and smiled. 

“The waiting gave me some indication.” 

“Nina,” he said, almost as though he were warning her, but he didn’t step away, and even reached for her when she was within his space. 

“Matthias,” she replied, “start with kissing me. I can take us from there,” she instructed, and Matthias didn’t need much prompting, tugging her the last few inches before crashing his lips down to hers. He was always a clumsy kisser, but it was as if as soon as he stared, he found his rhythm easier and became a master, making her weak in his arms. 

There were many things that Matthias was good at, and one of them was messing up her hair. Any chance he could when they kissed, his hand would go into her hair and tangle in it to make it fall everywhere and there was no way to look put together. Nina didn’t mind, but she always wanted it to go somewhere - this was the only time it was. And it seemed to be putting him in the right mood as she could feel the press of his crotch against her thigh and she mewled in desperation, god how she wanted him. Then, as he tugged away, her eyes fluttered open, gazing up at his flustered face. 

“I...I…” he stuttered, leaning his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 

“Matthias,” she said, “what do you need?” He looked at her curiously, as though he hadn’t expected her to even ask. If she could, Nina would make this perfect for them both. 

“I want to be...in charge,” he grunted, the furrow in his brow telling her that he wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the things he said. Nina would teach him later.

“Would you like to be rough?” she asked teasingly, only to watch his head nod warily. Nina shuffled him back towards the bed, shrugging him out of his shirt as she unbuttoned her blouse. He watched in fascination as she left herself completely nude from the waist up. Matthias’ face was almost completely red as he swallowed hard, but he wasn’t even at the good part and Nina smirked back at him. Unbuttoning his trousers, and letting free his cock that had been straining in his pants as they kissed. 

Nina bit her lip, her fingers tentatively taking his length in her palm, hearing his stuttering intake of breath. She felt powerful in a way that no grisha power could give her. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in surprise and Nina shook her head, sinking down to the floor and spreading his thighs wide. 

“Shh,” she silenced him as her “you’re a bit bigger than some of my last partners. I just need to get you ready for me,” she said slyly, her fingers lightly grazing over his shaft as she began gliding over it in soft strokes. 

Nina knew she shouldn’t have talked about her previous exploits, but just looking at the size of Matthias, she had to give him some confidence - she knew she was bucking herself up to take him. 

As her mouth descended on his length Matthias clutched hard into the sheets of the bed, her eyes wandering over his form as his breathing was harsh even in the pit of his stomach and her efforts became hard for him to bear if the furrow in his brow was anything to go by. Rising and falling, taking him to the back of her throat, she felt like she was salivating all over it, but knew she had to use his distraction to her advantage. She fiddled with the buttons of her skirt until it came loose around her waist and fell against her lap. 

“Nina!” he hissed. Nina came free, gasping for air as she smoothed her hands over his thighs, tugging down his trousers until they were discarded over her shoulder. 

“Shh, baby,” she purred, rising from the floor and kicking off her skirt and leaving herself completely bare before him. “Would you like me on my back or on top?” she asked, gracing her hand from her thigh and fingers dancing over her skin as it rose over the slopes of her body, drawing his gaze over her body. 

“B-back,” he admitted. 

Nina sat on the bed, crawling until she was laid up against the pillows and Matthias was looking over his shoulder to see at her. Nina took his hand, making him shift in place before he took his cue and began to move over her. Matthias paused, his adam’s apple bobbing and Nina thought he was going to back down again. She opened her mouth to protest, but he simply sank down and pressed his mouth against her thigh. Nina couldn’t help but have her eyes shut; it had been a long time since she was appreciated the way Matthias was doing just then. 

Matthias kissed at her hips, his lips trailing over lines that had stretched over her skin until he was making his way up her sternum and pressing his lips into her exposed skin. 

“You are so beautiful,” he said, eyes focused on hers even as his tongue ran over her breast. Nina wanted to whine, wanted to cry for him to stop teasing and get on with it, but she wanted Matthias to enjoy this as much as she did. Instead, she gripped his shaft, positioning him at her entrance. Matthias sighed as they touched, and he let himself sink into her. Nina gripped into his shoulders, sighing as he stretched her a little more than she was used to, but she was ready for him all the same; her body had been aching for him since she had him in her mouth. 

As he sank all the way to the base, Matthias groaned into her shoulder. For a moment, Nina feared that he had spilled himself inside at first contact, but as he sighed, he moved again, almost leaving her completely before slamming their hips together. Nina gasped and Matthias found whatever rhythm he was craving. He was fast, almost brutal with the way his hips slammed to hers and he continued to grunt as if he were fighting for something. In other moments, where lust was all that had overcome her, she would have enjoyed this type of thing, but with Matthias - his first time - she didn’t want him to waste it. 

“Shh,” she soothed, her fingertips running over the hard lines of his brow until he relaxed, took a moment to breathe, “we don’t need to go fast. Savour it, Matthias. Don’t you want to remember what it’s like?” she asked, her breath shaking as he looked down at her. He gave a stiff nod of agreement and took a softer thrust inside her. Nina hummed, nodding back to him, her hands roaming down to his hips, guiding them in their effort to find a pace that was suitable. 

Eventually, Matthias evened out, finding his rhythm and panted along with her as their bodies moved together, gaining the pleasures that had been denied to them for so many years. Nina was moaning hard now, with every thrust from Matthias coming a little harder. 

“My love,” he grunted, and Nina hummed, trying to keep herself from crying out. 

“Oh, Matthias!” she said, throwing her head back, “keep going. Oh saints, keep going,” she pleaded, bucking up to meet every thrust that came faster, both chasing an end that was so within reach that they were fighting to see who could get there first. 

“Nina, I’m going -” 

“Keep going,” she begged, her nails fixed into the skin on his shoulders as their bodies came together in heated thrusts and as the coil that had been building within the pit of her stomach came undone in a beautiful release, her body rose to his and she cried out his name. Matthias whispered her name over and over as he pumped into her until he was finally spilling himself inside her. Nina almost bit into his shoulder, instead only gasping until Matthias shivering had ceased. As his head rose, he bent down to kiss her, stealing her lips with his breath coming in ragged through his nose, flopping to his back once they were done. They were both left panting, staring up at the ceiling in bliss.  

“Can we do that again?” Matthias asked suddenly and Nina couldn’t help the giggle that erupted up from within her. “Why are you laughing at me?” he grumbled, rolling back on top of her as though he were gaining the upper hand again. Nina shook her head, her hands running over his shoulders. 

“Yes we can do it again. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’ll only want you once,” 

“I want you everyday, my love,” he said in Fjerdan. Nina smiled, tugging him down to plant his lips to hers. 

“I love you everyday,” she replied back, kissing at his cheek and brow. “My beautiful Fjerdan.”  

[akaluan]

An AU where everyone has wings but they're hidden unless willingly shown. Most people leave them out with pride, but some hide them away. Because each feather is a thought someone has had about you where they were thinking of nothing but you, and to some, this is a beautiful experience.

For Kisuke, his wings have screamed of Aizen's obsession for a century, and he had learned how to consciously turn his own thoughts away from adding feathers to others. Because the idea of Aizen wearing his thoughts was nauseating.

And then he met Erich.

((Okay, so there's definitely going to be more of this, but it'll come Later (TM) bc right now I just want to get something written for things and posted XD Hope this suits!))

(Warnings for Kisuke's anxiety and the whole apology-after-SS-arc thing)

\\\

Kisuke hid a smile behind his fan as he watched the teens tumble from the gate into midair, their panicked and confused shouts both hilarious and reassuring—

(They’d survived.)

(They’d survived, they’d survived, they’d survived…!)

—especially as they were caught in a rug and batted towards Tessai who spilled them out atop Kisuke’s flying carpet. He needed to apologize to them all — especially to Kurosaki — but in this brief, wonderful moment he could simply watch and enjoy.

Movement from the gate made Kisuke jerk back around, staring up at the stranger who strode from the closing gate and then stood there, his sharp eyes scanning the scene and one corner of his mouth quirking up into an amused smile. His gaze caught on Kisuke and his head tilted slightly, amusement fading and stance shifting into something watchful-wary-thoughtful as his wings flared slightly to make him look bigger.

Kisuke swallowed at the sight, at the sheer array of colors on the man’s wings, a patchwork quilt of bright-beautiful-loving thoughts laid bare for the world to see. His primary feathers were alternating sky and midnight blue, marbled with threads of copper and gold, and the rest of his feathers were equally bright, equally distinct, proof of how many people thought of him — thought well of him — in his life.

(Unlike his own wings.)

(No, don’t think about it.)

The man abruptly twitched, right wing spreading slightly more as the man cast a glance at it, and Kisuke froze at the sight of a feather turning sunshine yellow right in front of his eyes.

(No, oh no, he hadn’t meant to—)

(Damn!)

Kisuke yanked his thoughts back in line. Buried his admiration of the man’s wings deep-deep-deep into the midst of a jumble of thoughts-calculations-plans where it couldn’t stain the man’s beautiful wings.

(No one needed his thoughts directed only at them!)

“Ah, Rerugen-san!” Inoue said cheerfully as soon as she got to her feet and waved at the man overhead. “Come down and meet Urahara-san and the others! They’re the ones that helped us get into Soul Society so we could save Rukia-chan.”

The man nodded slowly and folded his wings, then appeared next to Ishida in a burst in hirenkyaku that Kisuke had to strain to follow.

(A Quincy soul?)

(Fascinating.)

“Maa, find a new friend in Soul Society?” Kisuke asked, trying to figure out how and why the Quincy soul had followed the teens home. The man wasn’t wearing Shinigami garb so he probably wasn’t part of the Gotei Thirteen, but how, then, had he convinced the Shinigami to let him follow the teens back to the Living World?

Ishida shrugged and looked away, his shoulders hunching a bit as he tucked himself closer to Rerugen’s side. “Something like that,” he muttered as Rerugen’s wing partially spread to wrap around him in a protective gesture.

“Rerugen-san is going to teach Ishida-kun!” Inoue announced with a bright-sharp-pointed smile, and Kisuke couldn’t help but admire the technique. She was a bit rough at it, but… well, she was still young and didn’t have quite the… incentive… to do well at it that Kisuke’d had at her age.

(Perhaps he should keep an eye on her, give the occasional bit of advice on how to get her way without seeming to do so.)

(She seemed like she’d be good at it.)

“Is that so?” Kisuke tapped the edge of his fan against his chin as he examined Rerugen again: a warrior for sure, and clearly protective over Ishida—

Kisuke suppressed a frown as he turned his attention to Ishida, trying to figure out exactly why something felt off about the teen. Ishida had always been clever-controlled-certain, but… his lack of presence didn’t feel like control. Especially not next to Rerugen’s own control, so strong that Kisuke could only sense the barest edge of presence from him.

(What had happened in Soul Society?)

(He had hoped…)

(Well, one more thing for him to apologize for, it appeared.)

“It is,” Rerugen answered firmly, his attention fixed on Kisuke, and—

Kisuke tried not to shiver as he felt the tell-tale brush of someone’s thoughts running down his spine and into his right wing, already bracing for the dirty-oily-clinging sensation that Aizen’s obsession always left behind, but… it didn’t come. Instead, it felt like cool water across his back, sluicing away the memory and making his hidden wings feel slightly lighter.

He resisted the urge to reveal his wings, no matter how much he wanted to see what had changed; he refused to let the teens see his wings, refused to show a complete stranger that someone was obsessed with him.

(He’d just have to wait until he was safe in his lab to see.)

(He could wait that long.)

Kisuke took a careful breath, shunted his thoughts aside, and turned his attention to the teens in front of him. They deserved an apology for all he’d forced them through, especially Kurosaki, and he wasn’t going to let a stranger’s presence deter him from doing so.

He went to his knees and leaned forward, head bowed and hat pressed to his chest, and announced, “I’m really… really sorry for… everything.”

Shocked silence met his words, but he forced himself to remain in place, not wanting to face the looks the teens were likely giving him. Sensation rippled down his spine and spread to his hidden wings, proof that he had everyone’s attention, and he swallowed. Squeezed his eyes shut. Knew he’d be spending the night in his lab, obsessing over whatever he could sense from his new feathers.

(He deserved this.)

(He deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it.)

(He did.)

Kisuke braced himself as Kurosaki’s reiatsu roared to life and the teen stalked forward, uncertain what was to come but knowing he wouldn’t protest whatever the teen chose to do.

“Don’t do that,” Kurosaki growled as he stood over Kisuke. “Don’t bow to me,” he insisted when Kisuke didn’t move. “You did what you could to help us, and we all knew something was up beyond the obvious.”

“You could have died,” Kisuke tried, still not looking up. “I sent you into dangerous territory with little explanation or preparation. I lied to you, led you right into a trap—”

Pain exploded across his cheek, the shock making him jerk to the side and drop his hat. He reached up to touch his stinging cheek with one trembling hand, mind trying to piece together what had happened.

(Kurosaki had… slapped him?)

(That was… less than he’d expected to happen.)

“Done trying to make everything about you?” Kurosaki asked sharply. “We knew what we were getting into,” he said, then huffed when Kisuke made a noise of protest and added, “Okay, we didn’t know exactly what we were getting into, but we knew it was worse than you were making it sound. We’re not ignorant kids, Hat’n’Clogs, we know when things smell rotten.” He clicked his tongue and took a step closer, nudging Kisuke’s side lightly with his leg. “I can’t control how you feel about what you did,” he said more softly than before, “but I can say that none of us blame you. And if you’re apologizing about it, then you probably feel shitty enough to not do it again, right?”

Kisuke swallowed at the forgiveness in Kurosaki’s tone and words. “I can’t promise to always tell you everything—”

“Tch, I wasn’t asking for you to do that,” Kurosaki grumbled as he knelt in front of Kisuke and poked his shoulder. “I don’t want everything,” he said firmly. “I want you to promise that next time something like this happens, you’ll lay out the dangers and your suspicions. And if there’s something you can’t tell us, just say that. We won’t be offended.”

“Maa, if you say so,” Kisuke said as he lifted his head enough to eye Kurosaki warily, wondering exactly how long that permissiveness would remain. Eventually the teen would get tired of Kisuke’s everything, just like everyone else did: Tessai and Yoruichi were the exception, not the rule, after all.

“I do,” Kurosaki said, a stubborn cast to his features that surprised Kisuke not at all. The teen truly was Masaki’s child.

Kisuke gave him a shallow nod and said, “Then I will do my best to do so.”

“Good.” Kurosaki settled back on his heels, a pleased air about him. “Thank you, Hat’n’Clogs.”

Kisuke huffs a laugh and straightens up a bit, fidgeting with his hat and doing his best not to rub at his still stinging cheek. “Well, I suppose if no one else wishes to add anything—” he paused and cast a wary glance over the rest of the teens, waiting for someone, anyone, to speak up. But no one did, not even Rerugen, despite the man watching him intently.

The moment their eyes met, another brush of clear water sensation slid down his spine and settled into his wings, making Kisuke twitch at the unexpectedness of it all.

(Oh, that wasn’t good, that wasn’t good at all.)

(No one thought kind things about him after watching him apologize.)

“Ah, well, as I was saying!” Kisuke continued with as much cheer as he could, flashing a smile at all the teens to mask his growing discomfort. “If no one has anything else to add, then I suppose it’s time to head home!”

(The sooner he could tuck himself away in his lab, the better.)

(He needed to see, needed to know—)

(Just a little longer.)

(He could wait.)

(He could.)

[cora-vizsla]

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me)- Chapter 2

Pairing: Eventual Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan

Word Count: 4.3K

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: T

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Calm kidnapping. Mentions of sex in the past. 

A/N: I know I said I was going to post this like two days ago but life got in the way. I hope you enjoy either way. As always, if I missed any tags please let me know!

When they got closer to presumably their destination, Veth held out a blindfold. Zara raised one eyebrow at him and shook her head.

“I’m not wearing that. Your threat of killing my men is over so you have no leverage over me.”

“I have two lightsabers and you’re stuck in this ship with me.”

“If you swing them, we both die. Are you wanting to die?”

“Are you?”

Zara scowled and crossed her arms. Veth laughed at her which only soured her mood even more.

“Me not having leverage over you is exactly why I need you to wear this. You presumably have it planned that you figure out where you are and either get a message out or escape on your own. I do not want to harm you, but I will if I have to.”

“So, wear this for my own protection?”

“Precisely, darling.”

Zara did nothing short of barking out a cackle.

“I am a Jedi Knight. I do not fear you. You may have manipulated me into going with you to keep my clones safe but that does not mean I am easily fooled.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“Would you trust me if the roles were reversed?”

“Yes.”

Zara was taken back by his swift and solid answer.

“You’ve had many chances to fight me, yet you’d prefer to talk and negotiate. You don’t want to fight if you don’t have to. That is a trait we share.”

“Sith only want destruction.”

“That is what the Jedi teach.”

“That is the truth.”

“Give me one day, Zara Fross. Comply with me for that long then you can make your decision on if you’re going to fight back or not.”

“Why a day?”

“That’s how long it will take me to ensure that you are safe before you do something reckless like jumping off a cliff.”

She found herself biting back a laugh as she reached to snatch the blindfold. Veth made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat and motioned for her to turn. Zara grimaced but turned slightly, allowing her captor to place it over her eyes and tie it. She felt her face flush when he gently turned her and ensured her eyes were completely covered.

“I bet this is the easiest kidnapping you’ve ever conducted.”

“You are right, though you aren’t the first beautiful woman I’ve put a blindfold on. Now sit there like a good girl and we will be home soon enough.”

Shocked by his tone and words, Zara sat in silence instead of arguing. She told herself that it would never be home to her, just a temporary stop before she found her way back to the Jedi. She hoped that Anakin wasn’t causing too much trouble.

---

“THAT is why you sent her without me!? You knew that creep would follow her!”

“Calm down, Anakin.” Mace said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“How can I calm down? He TOOK her!”

“She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. There was no indication that she was harmed. He let her leave a message for Commander Cody.”

“Where is Commander Cody? He should be punished for leaving her alone in the first place.”

“Anakin Skywalker. You better watch your tone when you’re speaking to the council. I understand you care for your friend, but you need to recognize that we need to put our trust in her and her capabilities. You’re bordering on insulting with how little you believe in her.”

“Master Windu, I can’t agree with not sending someone to find her. To save her. We have no idea what that creep is doing to her.”

“We also don’t know where she is. Once we get intel on her location, we will send someone to retrieve her. Until then, you have missions that you must accomplish. The war has not stopped, and you have not been relieved of any of your responsibilities.”

Anakin sighed and deflated. He nodded at Mace and ran his hands down his face.

“You’re right, Master. Just.. please keep me updated on her while I’m gone.”

Mace nodded at him and watched him leave. Yoda turned to him once the door shut and shook his head.

“Troubled, that boy is.”

“Yes. I know him and Zara are close, but he is so reckless.”

“No different, Zara would be.”

“No but she would have at least said those things to me in private instead of the entire counsel.”

Yoda chuckled and nodded, reaching over to pat Maces hand a few times. It was unspoken, but Master Windu was just as worried about his former Padawan as Anakin was, especially if the reports about Darth Veth were true.

---

Zara hated not having some semblance of control. It was why she preferred not to fight. No one could ever predict every move someone else would make. Words were easier for her to predict. So, stumbling through the snow without being able to see was not her idea of a good time.

“We’re almost there, darling.”

“I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”

“Would you prefer princess? Love? I’m sure I could find sweet pet names to find out in different languages if that is what you would enjoy.”

Zara stopped moving, turning to where she thought the man was and tried to glare.

“Fine. Stick with darling.”

He chuckled and gripped her arm a little tighter. He wasn’t hurting her, not that he even remotely wanted to. When she had stumbled a few times, he felt bad at how petrified she was at not being able to see. He had offered to carry her but that didn’t help the fear that was basically seeping from her pores.

When her teeth started chattering, he finally gave in and scooped her up. She gasped out of surprise and started to protest. She silenced when he shushed her and tentatively held onto him, afraid of being dropped.

“It’s quicker this way. Need to get you inside before you freeze to death.”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away would I.”

He chuckled and tightened his grip on her, picking up his pace. Within a few minutes he spotted their destination and got her inside. He deposited her gently on his couch and pulled the blindfold off.

“Get your boots off. You aren’t dressed for the cold and you don’t want to lose toes because of it.”

She hesitated, taking in her surroundings but eventually pulled them off, setting them neatly by her. Veth looked at her as he was taking off his heavy jacket and boots.

“You don’t need to sit there. You can explore.”

She stood warily, wincing at the feeling returning to her feet. She walked throughout the main living space and noticed how simple it was. She half expected a home more industrial and extravagant. It didn’t scream Sith Lord to her.

Making her way down the hallway, she looked into each room. She was surprised to see that there were two bedrooms and a fairly large refresher. The last room she came to actually intrigued her enough to walk in. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling in books and holocrons.

“I figured this would be the room I’d find you in.”

Zara glanced over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around herself. Veth walked in and stood next to her.

“You are welcome to read anything in here. I would have brought some of the texts from our meeting spot but figured they’d just be another weapon for you to use against me.”

“I wouldn’t risk destroying history like that.”

“Then I trust you all the more in my personal library. I have placed warm clothes in the refresher. Take your time as this planet has no water restrictions or issues. I will be making some food to eat. Come find me when you are done.”

He went to walk out but Zara reached out and touched his arm lightly, recoiling as soon as she did.

“Why.. why am I here?”

“Are you asking that or asking why you aren’t shackled and bleeding?”

“I guess I’m asking both.”

“Go shower. I will answer all questions within reason when you are done.”

---

Zara stepped out of the shower and wiped at the mirror in front of her. She considered braiding her hair but with the cold she needed it to dry as soon as possible. She looked down at the counter and saw that there was a brush. With a shrug she picked it up and worked it through her hair.

It had gotten much longer than she usually let it grow. When she was younger, she kept it short to keep it out of her face but now it was down to her mid back. She ran her fingers across the short side she had cut and thought of Anakin. He had dared her to do it thinking she would care too much about her hair. She had laughed so hard when she saw the expression on his face when she cut the portion.

She wondered how Anakin was. It wasn’t abnormal not to talk to him for days at a time, but now she didn’t even have the capability to. He was her best friend and the idea of not seeing him again brought a pain to her chest she had never felt before.

Zara shook her head, trying to will away the negative thoughts. Instead, she focused on the bright color of her hair. It had been another dare of Anakin. He thought Mace would be furious with her but instead he had given her a soft smile and a nod, letting her know it fit her. Master Windu always wanted her to be herself in a way that fit the code. Her appearance didn’t matter as long as she lived the code and was proud of being a Jedi.

She looked down at the clothes and frown. They were most definitely the Sith’s robes. She considered putting her own back on, but he was right; it was cold. Once she was dressed in the black robes that were just slightly too big for her, she hung her towel up and went back out to the main living area.

“Ah, hello there. I hope your shower was enjoyable.”

She nodded, not having the energy to argue with him anymore. He motioned for the table that already had food waiting for her. She sat down gently and looked at the food.

“Stars, I know I’m not a great cook, but it isn’t enough to be sad over.”

When she didn’t look up at him, he sighed and sat next to her, digging into his own food. She eventually picked up her utensils and started eating. It was warm and well-seasoned, but it did little to improve her mood.

“Lord Veth, why am I here?”

He used his napkin to pat at his mouth before sitting back in his chair. It struck her as odd at how sophisticated he was, again. It went against everything that she had been taught about the Sith and how they lived their life.

“I promised you answers. I will give you as many as I can. Then you can be informed if you want to fight against your captivity or not.”

He took a drink of the wine in front of him before crossing on leg over the other.

“I first heard of you when you started your missions with the Skywalker boy.”

“You’ve called him Ani. Why?”

“I’ll get there, my dear. I was tasked with observing you and finding a way to get you away from him. You see, my Master desperately wants the boy. He has plans for him. He doesn’t think that he will stray from the Jedi as long as you are around him. You’re a rather calming presence for him just as much as he challenges you to come out of your shell.”

“He’s my best friend.”

Zara felt her chest tighten again at the thought of Anakin and the vulnerability she was showing.

“Without you around he can fulfill the role my Master expects of him. I was given the option to just kill you but the more I learned of you the more I saw how much of a waste that would be. You’re a strong Jedi and an even smarter woman. You care deeply for those around you regardless of it being a stretch in the code you swore yourself to.”

“That doesn’t explain how you know Anakin.”

“I was with Qui Gon when he found him.”

“You?”

He chuckled and nodded, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“Yes. I went by an entirely different name back then, but I was there.”

Zara furrowed her brow and tried to figure out who he possibly could be. She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried desperately to pull up the memory.

“Master Windu told me of a padawan Master Jinn had. He died though so he took on Anakin.”

“I did not die. I’m sure he thought I did with the fiery explosion. My Masters other apprentice found me barely clinging to life. The Jedi never even looked for me.”

“That’s.. terrible. I am so very sorry that they didn’t.. there had to have been a reason they didn’t-”

Zara sat up straighter when anger flashed across the man’s face. His eyes seemed even more dangerous and for the first time she didn’t feel safe around him. She stood up and he followed, backing her against the wall. He caged her in by placing his hands on each side of her head.

“Do not mistake my civility as us being friends, Jedi. I will treat you as my guest, but I will not have the betrayal they put me through excused or brushed off by anyone. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl.”

He stood up, taking his hands from the wall and tracing his finger across her jaw gently with a feral smile. She looked up at him trying to steel herself against him. She had almost let herself forget that he was a dangerous Sith keeping her captive.

“Why don’t you finish eating then we can talk more. Like I said earlier, there is much I wish to learn about you.”

---

Zara sat curled up on the end of the couch, trying to keep warm. Regardless of what she was wearing, she couldn’t seem to shake the cold. Her previous thoughts of hating the heat were coming back to haunt her. She jumped when she felt something rest against her shoulders until she saw the Sith was laying a thick blanket across her.

“Uh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear.”

He sat down next to her, far enough away that they weren’t touching.

“It unfortunately gets very cold at night here.”

“Where are we, Hoth?”

“No, but a planet very similar.”

“Stars how do you deal with it?”

“I manage.”

She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and shivered.

“May I ask you what your name was before?”

“You may. However, for every question I answer you need to answer two of mine.”

“Two? How is that fair?”

“Who said anything about fair?”

She looked over at him and scowled at his sly grin. She turned so she was facing him more with her knees pulled up to her chest. He was already turned slightly to the side with his legs spread apart and his arm thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fine. What was your name.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Obi.. wow.”

“You know the name?”

“I do. Master Jinn spoke of you often while Anakin and I were training.”

He rolled his jaw before forcing the emotion to fall from his face. He was smiling again before she even could comprehend that he had been upset.

“What planet are you from?”

“Alderaan.”

“Good family?”

“The best. Wonderful parents. Well off. Supportive in my quest to become a Jedi.”

“Interesting. That explains your education and manners.”

She shrugged and smiled softly.

“Can I assume you’re from Coruscant?”

“No. I don’t really remember though I was very young when I went there. Thus, the accent.”

“Makes sense. The Jedi usually take in children at a young age.”

“You mean steal them.”

Not wanting to anger him more, she fell silent.

“Were you at the temple before Anakin?”

“Yes. Not very long though. Maybe a week or two if I remember correctly.”

“Then I just missed you it seems.”

She nodded and shivered again.

“What is the extent of your relationship with Skywalker?”

Her head shot up at that question. She looked him directly in his eyes and saw a cautious curiosity.

“I’ve told you. He’s my best friend.”

“It seems deeper than that. He was positively furious when I called you darling.”

“He’s.. protective. He had to leave his mother and I was the first person he truly connected to after that. Master Windu worried he was corrupting me but there were many times he kept me sane.”

“Explain more, please.”

She smirked and shook her head.

“You’re being awfully careful not to ask another question.”

“Trying to play by the rules, my dear.”

She chuckled and played with the edge of the blanket.

“I think maybe if there hadn’t been a code, we would have grown closer.”

“So, you turned him down.”

“Not necessarily. It’s not like we talked about it. We just knew it wasn’t what the Jedi would need from us. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.”

She decided not to press him more when his answer was clipped. She lowered her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip again.

“Do you love Anakin?”

“I.. I’ve never let myself love anyone. My destiny is to be a Jedi Master. I won’t let anything deter that.”

“Interesting. So, you don’t indulge in physical pleasure?”

She snorted and he raised his eyebrows in response.

“I’m not a prude. I just don’t let myself feel possessive or attached to them.”

“So, why not with Anakin then? You two are already close.”

She shrugged and laughed, her face feeling warm.

“Doesn’t really need to be thought about. It didn’t happen and won’t.”

“You’re rather open with me. Not what I expected considering who your Master was.”

“I would rather give you this information willingly in a way that I can benefit from it. Considering what the alternative is I think it’s safer that way.”

He chuckled and carded his hand through his hair again.

“You are wise beyond your years, darling. I do wonder why you were so willing to tell me about Anakin though. You know he is in danger.”

“Nothing that I told you is anything you couldn’t have found out just by watching us. You actually probably would have assumed there was more to it. I know the counsel did many times.”

Zara let out a yawn, trying to cover her face as she did. Veth chuckled and stood, motioning for her to lay down on the couch.

“There is a spare room, but it is much warmer out here. I’ll check on the fire throughout the night.”

She curled up and made sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around her. He added more wood to the fire and dusted his hands off as he stood up. He paused at the doorway and looked at the sleepy Jedi on his couch.

“Goodnight, Zara.”

“Goodnight, Lord Veth.”

“You can call me Obi Wan, if you’d prefer.”

“I thought we weren’t friends, Obi Wan?”

“You’re starting to grow on me a bit, darling.”

With a smirk he left, leaving her even more confused than the first time she met him. Zara was terrified of the situation she was in but knew she had to play his game. As she drifted to sleep, she worried about her best friend and what they could possibly want from him. She had to find a way to warn him and protect him.

“Zara. Zara dear, you need to wake up. Come on, sweetheart.”

She woke with a gasp and looked around, unaware of where she was. She jumped when she realized Obi Wan was kneeling by the couch with his hand on her shoulder. He looked worried; his hair still disheveled from sleeping.

“W-what? What is it?”

“You were crying out in your sleep. Gave me a terrible fright when I heard you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m f-fine. Sorry. Sorry for startling you.”

“What was wrong?”

“I just.. I have nightmares. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t let me keep you up.”

She sat up, pulling away from his touch. He stood and moved to the fire, tending to it like he had been doing it his entire life. She watched him as she worked on controlling her breathing. Although nightmares weren’t new to her, being woken by someone she didn’t know was. She felt ashamed and embarrassed that he had heard her crying.

“Tell me, darling, do the Jedi know of your nightmares?”

“It’s hard to find one of us who doesn’t have them. War never really leaves us.”

“You’re fighting against a droid army.”

“We don’t use droids to fight.”

Her voice was harsh and clipped, surprising Obi Wan. He walked to her, stopping only to kneel in front of her on the floor. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her and watched him with unease.

“You really do care about your clones, don’t you?”

“They’re people. Living breathing people. Their history or how they came to life doesn’t concern me. What concerns me is-“

“Stars, Zara, they’re just clones. More can be made.”

“You sound like Senator Palpatine. So high and mighty that you have no regard for life. Even now you play games with me, dangling the idea of my death over my head. You’re no better than a bored loth cat playing with a mouse.”

“Are you comparing yourself to a rodent?”

He smirked and it infuriated Zara. She snarled and tried to get up, wanting space between the two of them. Before she could even fully try, Obi Wans hands shot out and grabbed her thighs tightly, keeping her in place.

“No, Lord Veth, I am comparing you to a predator with absolutely no humanity. Your tricks will not work on me. You may have been a Jedi once, but it is clear as day that you are no longer harboring any shred of light in you. Go ahead and pretend that you’re civil and sophisticated while you keep me prisoner on this despot of a planet. It doesn’t matter how kind or human you pretend to be. You’re nothing short of a monster. You’ll never be able to hide the evil coursing through you when it burns so brightly through your eyes.”

Zara held back a wince as his grip tightened on her legs. The normal playfulness that he usually held on his face was long gone. The more she spoke, the angrier he became.

“There she is. There is the conceited Jedi I knew had to have been in there. I saved your life, little knight. I spared your men knowing that it would harm you to wipe them out. I let you stay awake and conscious of what was happening. I gave you my clothes to wear so you would be warm and let you know parts of me that I didn’t need to divulge. Without me, you would be dead along with your entire regiment.”

“How do I even know a single thing you’ve said to me is true? Sith lie.”

“Now you question my integrity? When have you discovered anything I have said to you is a lie?”

“It all has to be a lie! Why would anyone that follows the dark want Anakin? He is a good man. He is devoted to those he loves and the family he has created within the order. He would never fall to the dark side. He wouldn’t do that to them. He wouldn’t do that to-“

“To what? Or were you going to say to who? He wouldn’t do that to you. Is that what you were going to say? Hmm?”

When Zara fell silent Obi Wan laughed out darkly.

“My dear, pull the right strings and anyone could fall to the dark. He has a weakness, and it is you.”

“It’s not like that with me!”

“Does he know that? You see, I have been in love before and it didn’t matter how far away I ended up from her. It never went away. Even once I heard of her death, I still mourned her and the love we could have shared if I had just let myself fall.”

She shook her head quickly.

“He will do what our master’s ask of us. He will help win this war and-“

“Now who is the liar, Zara? I’ve heard some doozies coming from the lips of Jedi, but I have never heard someone so willing to lie when the truth is right in their face. The fall of Anakin Skywalker has already begun. Your absence, regardless of what is causing it, is going to make him desperate. He will do anything to either get you back or avenge you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m wrong.”

Zara opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it.

“That’s what I thought.”

He released her legs and stood, looking down at her with anger.

“Get some rest. Lack of sleep makes you ungrateful and it’s not a good look.”

Once he was in his room, punctuated by a slam of his door, Zara finally let her tears fall. She wanted to talk to Master Windu to get clarity. She needed to hear that Veth, Obi Wan, whoever he was, was wrong. Feeling hopeless and helpless wasn’t something she was accustomed to and it was tearing her to shreds.

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 38

First

Previous

Next

~~~

She woke up with a groan and rubbed her eyes. Someone, probably Chloe, had tucked her into bed. She smiled faintly and sat up.

A glance at her phone found a text from Chloe saying she’d gotten home safely, a text from Jason asking if she was okay (really subtle), and a text from Damian asking if she wanted to talk.

She closed her eyes, letting her phone drop to her side. She didn’t really want to talk about anything, she’d already cried herself out of tears the night before and she didn’t intend on doing that again anytime soon.

She glanced at her work. She kinda needed to get a move on, the Wayne Gala was steadily approaching, but she didn’t really have any motivation to do that. She didn’t feel like being productive at all, actually.

What she wanted, really, was a distraction. She mulled over her options. Most of her hobbies also felt like work, from designing to baking, so… what could she do?

Oh!

She pulled up a chat.

Definitelyforgottosleep: wanna hang out today

She barely had to wait for an answer.

Coffeeismygirlfriend: Sure! I’ll be there soon.

She got up and went to the bathroom to get ready, only to see the dried blood on her floor. She bit her cheek and then walked to the door. She glanced back in it’s direction and smiled when she realized her counter covered it. Good. She could deal with that later, then. She didn’t feel like cleaning.

Marinette smiled as she opened the door an hour later, fully ready.

Tim smiled. “Hey! Ready to do some work?”

She grinned and rushed past him, hooking her arm with his. “Nope!”

He blinked confusedly as he allowed her to drag him along. “Uhhhh this wasn’t expected.”

“I can see that. You work too much anyways.”

Tim groaned. “Not you, too! I thought you understood!”

“Not saying it’s a bad thing, but I don’t want to do work today.”

He looked at her like she was insane.

She grinned and pulled him into an arcade that she’d seen a few times on patrol. “Behold! I’m gonna teach you how to have fun!”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I know how to have fun.”

“Mmm,” she said, not agreeing or disagreeing.

They both pulled out their wallets and then eyed each other warily. Marinette crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m the one who wanted to come.”

“I’m the one with more money.”

She rolled her eyes and, however reluctantly, put her money away. He had a point. He probably wouldn’t even register the loss.

He smiled like he’d won something and handed over his credit card. “Uhhhh just as many points as you can give us, I guess?”

The clerk looked exhausted as she nodded, handing over the plastic cards.

And, with that, they were off.

She was better at most of the straight video games. He complained about difficult controls, but she was pretty sure he just wasn’t used to playing on consoles. It made sense, he didn’t really seem the type to play video games in his off time (if he even had any offtime, of course).

Still, he gave her a pout every time he lost. “You’re cheating.”

“Yeah. I’m cheating on this game that I’ve literally never played before in my life. You’ve caught me.”

He huffed. “We’re playing something else.”

Then they moved onto games based on sports. Were they maybe a bit too good at these types of games? A bit too quick? Yes. But neither of them intended on saying anything because oh cool tickets. Still, it became obvious they had different skill sets: Tim had her beat at basketball and Marinette never lost at skeeball. They never learned who was better at air hockey because one of their hits sent the puck flying into someone’s head and they had to run away before they got sued.

Next was games of luck…

She got the lowest possible amount of tickets. Five times in a row.

Marinette kicked the machine and then cursed at the pain. “THIS IS STUPID.”

Tim, however, was trying his hardest not to laugh. “This shouldn’t even be possible.”

“Helpful,” she muttered.

He gave a small shrug as he stepped up to the machine. “Maybe it’s just rigged or something,” he said. She would have been inclined to agree... if he didn’t get a jackpot on his first try.

She huffed at his smug grin. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I could feel you judging me,” she muttered, giving his shoulder a small shove.

He grinned. “I’d never.”

She rolled her eyes. “New type of game!”

After a bit they managed to find some co-op games, and she was delighted to find that the two of them together made for a pretty formidable team. Admittedly, some of the games weren’t technically supposed to be played as co-op, but who was going to stop them from getting as many tickets as possible from this fishing game by working together? Really it was the designer’s fault for not taking that into consideration.

They ran out of credits about every hour, but did they care? Not really. Mostly because Tim never told her when this happened, usually waiting until she was distracted with a game to go recharge their cards. Did Marinette notice the fact that their cards were seemingly never ending or that sometimes they would randomly have a lot more credits? Maybe, but she was enjoying herself enough to avoid the guilt at least temporarily.

Eventually, though, the arcade was coming to a close.

They had bags upon bags of tickets hanging off their arms, but this would become their downfall. Despite being smart enough to find ways to get the most tickets at every game, they apparently weren’t smart enough to think ahead and were now struggling to untangle the tickets.

“How did you even do this, bean?”

She knocked her head against the machine she’d been leaning on. “Less talking, more untangling,” she muttered irritably, struggling with a ticket that somehow had gotten a knot in it.

They ignored the workers’ glares as they finally managed to hand over the little slip with their ticket count on it. Despite how much they’d gotten, they were forced to go to the cheapest section.

She pouted. “Man, we were cheated.”

“We could just buy the stuff, it’s a lot cheaper that way.”

She turned her gaze on him, an incredulous look on her face. “Of course not! Where’s the fun in that?”

“You would actually get what you wanted…?”

She huffed. “Boring.”

“You just said you felt cheated.”

“That’s part of the experience, Timothy.”

He rolled his eyes and they split off in search of what they could afford. Her eyes landed on the vigilante merch and a smile came to her face as she got a plan. She quickly rang herself up and headed to the bathroom to change.

She grinned at him as she stepped out in a Red Robin themed hoodie, clutching a plush version of the vigilante to her chest. 

Because what’s the point of knowing your friends’ secret identities if you can’t mess with them?

He blushed, his grip tightening on the bag of prizes in his hand.

Marinette tried not to laugh as she looped her arm with his again, pulling him out into the streets. She really didn’t know where they were going, but she didn’t want to just leave when he was looking so flustered. What a wasted opportunity!

“So, Red Robin fan?” He asked after a bit.

She smiled. “Of course! He’s super smart! I mean, I know Batman is supposed to be the greatest detective of all time or whatever but, considering ages and experience, I think that Red Robin is probably going to have him beat in… I don’t know, a few years?”

Poor Tim looked like he was about to pass out, his face was so red.

She smiled and sat down with him on a park bench. People were thinning around them as night approached, but she didn’t care. What was going to happen? They get attacked? That would only really be a bad time for the criminal.

“But I’ve actually met the guy a few times. He’s really nice and genuinely cares about his job from what I’ve seen. Don’t think there’s anything bad to say about him, honestly.”

He grinned, resting an arm around her shoulders.

“He’s alright, I guess.” An odd light sparkled in his eyes and he reached into his bag. He shuffled through his things for a bit and then held up a mug…

There was a picture of Ladybug on it.

“I think she’s cooler, though.”

Marinette fought the urge to bury her face in his shoulder as a blush came to her face. Ah. So this has backfired on her, apparently. All she could manage was a quiet: “Oh?”

“Yep! I think it’s really cool that she came over from Paris, because she really didn’t have to do that. No one would have said anything if she’d disappeared when Hawkmoth was defeated, but instead she decided to help Gotham!”

They were alone, now. This was great, because she didn’t need anyone else seeing her looking like a tomato. She fiddled with the Red Robin plushie in her lap for an excuse to look away.

A hand rested on her cheek and she looked up to see him. He was still a little flushed from her own compliments, but now there was a small grin playing at his lips. “Everything alright, bean? You look a little bit flushed, are you coming down with something?”

She opened her mouth to give an excuse before something struck her. Tim wasn’t stupid, she hadn’t been lying when she had said so. He couldn’t genuinely be wondering if she was sick, the smug look on his face made that obvious. So the only reason he’d be acting like this was if he was teasing her, which meant…

“You know?”

His eyes widened slightly and then flicked to the side. His hand lowered. “And I’m guessing you do, too?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly, closing her eyes. “What gave me away?”

“I was kinda suspicious during the food fight, you were a bit too good at it for a normal civvie, but I really figured it out because of the fox necklace. The one time she wears it is the one time I’ve seen you ever have it? It was just too much of a coincidence.”

She swore in French. She’d forgotten about that! She was going to start wearing the fox miraculous casually to alleviate suspicion, but Red Robin hadn’t come by much after that and she hadn’t been completely sure it was Tim.

“And how’d you figure me out?”

She hesitated. “It was obvious, honestly.”

“Damian?”

She blinked. “What? How’d you know?”

“You wouldn’t lie to protect anyone else.”

Fair enough. “Damian and I sparred, I recognized his fight style.”

He nodded and pulled her into his side a bit more.

She leaned into his touch a little bit, slinging an arm over his stomach lazily. “What do you think I should do?” She mumbled.

He didn’t bother to ask what she was talking about. “Honestly? I don’t like you going out into the field again. You’re not well…”

“But?”

“But the Rogues are unstable and I don’t like the idea of trying to fight them all off without any knowledge of what they were going to do.”

She nodded slightly. That made sense. “That’s about what I figured, too.”

“I don’t like you going out into the field again. You’re not well,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “The rest of them are probably going to be even more against the idea than me.”

“I’ll convince them.”

“Can you?”

Her head shot up to look at him and she bit at the inside of her cheek. He had a point, unfortunately. Jason was going to be against it, Bruce would probably be cautious of her because of his whole anti-murder thing, Dick would probably lean towards not letting her out again as well. She thought she might be able to convince Damian, but then again he was the only one who knew the full extent of what had happened over the past week.

She sighed and leaned into him again, closing her eyes. She buried her face in his shoulder. “Can you help?”

“Maybe,” he said softly, and she knew immediately that whatever he was going to say she wasn’t going to like it. “If you go to therapy regularly they’d probably be more okay with it.”

She cringed. There was that suggestion again: therapy. It was almost like she needed it or something. Still, she felt her normal excuse fall off her tongue: “What, am I supposed to tell them who I am?”

“Yep.”

She frowned.

“All of us have a regular therapist who sees us in costume and we talk about the job.”

“Will she tell Bruce everything I say?”

“Nope! She only has to tell him if we’re going to hurt ourselves or others.” He gave a short chuckle. “More than necessary, I mean.”

Marinette sighed. “But…”

Man, she was really running out of excuses now.

“It’s really the only way they’ll agree, bean.”

He was right, she just didn’t like it. She didn’t agree out loud, that would only make it feel more real. Instead, she curled into his side.

“We should probably head back to my apartment at some point. It’s going to get cold soon.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agreed quietly.

They didn’t move from where they were for a long time, content to lean into each other for warmth.

And, when they woke up the next morning, they decided to pretend they didn’t notice the giant sign over their necks that declared them under Rogue protection.

~~~

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<3

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 7

din/reader

cooking is my love language so i made it rebel’s too (as ever, thank you to my love my life @brothersdrxke for being my shara) 💛 there’s rly only two more parts after this huh

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: i don’t think there’s any swears in this one but just to be on the safe side, rebel has PTSD although it’s more suggested than actually experienced there’s a couple of moments that are shaky, softness and domesticity or just sadness?, sadness, the usual type of smut, 18+ no babies thanks

“No.”

At least Colonel Cintass has the decency to look surprised, he blanches when you show no sign of joking and sits up a little straighter. 

“If it’s a question of pay or location, both are negotiable. There’s academies all over the Inner and Mid rim, you’ll have your pick of the lot and a promotion if you accept.” He’s clutching at all the straws he has at his disposal, but you don’t budge. He huffs when you say nothing and asks, albeit agitatedly, what your plans are instead.

“Maybe I’ll go private. Pays well, I can do what I want-”

“There’s no glory in the private sector.” Cintass interrupts you, and your eyebrows furrow further.

“And there is here? If you joined up for glory, Colonel, I don’t think you should be calling the shots.” You’re right and you both know it. You’re all too familiar with the friends who’ve retired to find something quieter, and with the officers who spent their Rebellion days discussing facts and figures with politicians. People who’d never been on the front lines in the thick of it, never even seen a firefight, now in charge of fresh faced cadets and veterans with too many demons to feel like they belong anywhere else. You won’t stay here, not for any longer than it takes to pack your things.

You pulled out of Green Squadron the day after Shara told you she was retiring, the last of the original crew, you hadn’t wanted to fly any more missions without her. At least the Colonel heard you out and didn’t argue. He’d let you stay on as a temporary mechanic, while you figured out what it was you wanted to do. Although, now it’s clear he fought to keep you so he could get things in place to offer you a teaching job. 

It’s a good position, in all honesty. Miles better pay than you’ll get for the same job anywhere else, the choice to relocate to any of the shiny New Republic Navy training centres across the galaxy. But you can’t look a bunch of teenagers in the eye and tell them that this is everything they hope for. Not when the war chewed you up and spit you out the way it did. The scars on your back ache at the thought of it. 

Shara finds you in the hangar, loading up a couple of bags into your A-Wing’s pitiful storage compartment. All your belongings, your whole life, packed up and ready to go wherever you decide to take them.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to live in there.” 

“Ah, I’ll get a couple of hanging plants, maybe put up some curtains,” You smile at her from the top of the ladder, “Could be cosy.”

You know why she’s here. Not to talk you into accepting the teaching job, she knows you better than that. The idea was one she’d had right after she and Kes had found the old farm on Yavin IV, in need of a little tlc and a lot of patience, it was the perfect spot for them to raise their boy. And the little house further down the track, right at the edge of their land, was the perfect spot for you.

“I’m not saying you have to stay there forever,” She starts when you open your mouth to decline again, “I’m saying that when you need some solid ground under your feet, you don’t have to go looking for it.”

“Shara-”

“We’re family. You will always have a home with us.” It’s final. Non-negotiable. And something about the look in her eye makes you want to cry just a little bit. You think about the collection of scribbles tucked carefully away in one of your bags, the more recent ones at least are a little easier to distinguish as people. Four multi-coloured potatoes with legs. As far as little Poe is concerned, he agrees with his mother. 

You hop down the ladder and pull Shara tightly to you, maybe tighter than you have before. Because you’ve never really had a home, not a place you ever felt was worthy of such a title. But here she is, offering one to you like it’s nothing. 

“So, where are you off to now?” She asks when you finally have the strength to let her go. Both of your eyes are a little watery, but neither of you mentions it.

“Well, I turned down Cintass so it's up in the air. I’ve got some old contacts, so as long as they’ve forgiven me I can get a little income before I have to make any concrete decisions.” You don’t tell her exactly who the contacts are. Something about the way she raises her eyebrow makes you wonder if she’s already guessed where you’re going.  

It feels strange, guiding your A-Wing out of the hangar for the last time. You hope it's the last time. At least you had enough put by to get Green Four decommissioned and released to you, it might have been a little more difficult than you’d initially thought if you had to leave the ship behind. She’s old and you’ve put her through hell, but she’s yet to let you down.

You’re not overly surprised that your comm signal goes unanswered. You weren’t exactly the most gracious guest on your last visit. But you don’t get shot up on your approach, so maybe your old friends are feeling a little more amicable nowadays.

“Impressive.” Ran says when you hop out of the cockpit, helmet under one arm and a sheepish smile on your face.

“She used to be.” You know he’s already calculating how much he can get for it, or whether he wants to strip it for parts. Your heart aches at the thought of it but there’s not a lot you can do. If letting go of your starfighter is what gets you back on the team, then it’s what’ll have to happen. Even if it hurts.

Ran gestures at a couple of new crewmates, a Devaronian and a human, and you selfishly hope you won’t have to work too closely with them. There’s an insignia on the shoulder of the human’s jacket, one you don’t want to examine too closely for fear you’re right. He’s about to offer you your old room when the shooting starts.

The men are taking turns at a set of old side panels, blaster bolts melting the old steel on contact, and you know that. You flinch before you can stop yourself. Ran watches you suspiciously, but he says nothing. Before the war, you would never have even batted an eyelid at a little target practice. You probably would have been in the thick of it, laughing and betting and not watching your friends die over and over in your mind.

“You stink of soldier.” Xi’an sneers, although she means it more as an observation than an accusation. You don’t disagree, only shrug, and your hand hovers warily over your holster as you watch the shooting competition. Just in case.

“Where’s Qin?” You ask once your heartbeat returns to normal. Anger flashes across Xi’an’s face as Ran explains he’d outsourced a job a few years ago, and Qin hadn’t made it back. It’s unexpected, the odd way you find yourself a little disappointed. Even though he’d been cold with you on your last visit, even though you’d bickered and been at each other’s throats more than once. Qin had been a friend once, a lifetime ago. You suppose that’s exactly the problem.

“Are you still terrible at throwing?” Xi’an asks, and the awkward tension finally melts away. Her wicked smile returns and you find yourself mirroring it.

“I’m a little better.” You say. Although you’re still certain she’ll wipe the floor with you, it’s nice to see at least somebody around here missed you. It’s about as close to a confession as you’ll ever get from Xi’an. You’d be an idiot not to take the olive branch she’s so selflessly holding out in front of you. Maybe you won’t be so alone on the station after all.

Din’s wondering about you, some part of him always is, as he looks at the new pucks in his hands. A couple of humans, a mythrol, and a chiss. None of them should cause him too much trouble, but none of their last known locations are exactly close. He settles on one of the humans, last seen in the Yavin system, and tells himself it’s because he can stock up on supplies for some of the more long haul flights the new assignments will take him on. Definitely not because he could stand to be around people who might remind you of him, even just a little. Definitely not because he misses you.

Din watches you from across the market, chatting animatedly with a dark haired woman he’s half-certain he’s met before. The way she leans so casually, so naturally, against your shoulder as she laughs makes his ribcage ache. He wants that with you, always has. He wants to be able to take you to places like these. To hold you close in front of throngs of people and meet your old friends. He shouldn’t even be here.

The Armourer’s words still echo in his ears. He is responsible for the covert, their hardest working hunter. He cannot, should not, waste thought on times past. 

He shouldn’t be here.

But it’s too late.

Your eyes zero in on him, abandoning the conversation, and your friend follows your gaze. Din takes that as an invitation, slowly making his way towards the two of you in the shadow of a baker’s stall. The crowds part, as they always do, and for the first time he finds himself wishing they wouldn’t. You might have a life here, for all he knows. It’s been long enough. You deserve one, really. To have a home. To feel loved all the time, to not have to wonder. And then he’s there, in front of you, just staring. What are either of you even supposed to say?

A small boy peers around your hip, looking up at him in wonder. Too old to be yours, if he remembers correctly, but for a moment his heart seizes. You rest your hand in the kid’s curls, absentmindedly ruffling them. You’ve always fiddled when you’re nervous. 

“We should probably get home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” The woman clears her throat, snapping the sudden tension into shards. Din’s careful not to cut himself on the edges. 

You nod enthusiastically, every language you know still lodged uncomfortably in your throat, and wrap an arm around her shoulders for a brief goodbye hug. She calls the boy after her as she leaves, their matching black curls bouncing when she heaves him up onto her shoulders.

“Shara,” You say, watching the two disappear into the waning crowd, “She teaches some of the older kids piloting basics. I help out when I’m here, mechanics mostly.”

“You find somewhere to settle?”

You shake your head. Give him some vague answer about drifting where the wind takes you. He doesn’t need to know you went crawling back to the only thing you knew before the war. It’s quiet for a moment, and even though you’re standing in the middle of the market, it’s as though you’re the only two people on the whole street. Din’s floundering for something to say, something to keep you here for just another minute, until you break the silence and save him. Just like you always do.

“When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t a ration pack?” 

Even with the way he treated you last time, you’re still showing him the kindness you always have. He’s still not sure he deserves it. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on.” You take his silence as an answer, and start towards an alleyway between two buildings. Din follows you without hesitation, and the path opens up to a small parking lot half-full of different speeder models. You lead him to an older one, yellow paint faded and scratched, and drop your bag in the backseat. He falters a little when you climb in and gesture to the seat beside you.

“Unless you wanted to sit in the back.” Your smirk is warm, familiar. It hurts to look at. So he hops in and settles on the front bench because he’s not sure he can bear to watch you look at him like that much longer.

The little home down the dusty farm track is not somewhere he ever expected you to call your own. You’ve always seemed like you should be on a background of stars, a hyperspace lane, not somewhere this domestic. At least that way he wouldn’t be consumed, so suddenly, with a very real idea of staying. 

You just look so comfortable, bathed in the low light of the afternoon sun through the windows, pulling vegetables out of a fridge covered head to toe in kid’s drawings. The little boy from the market, presumably. And it makes his ribcage ache to know that this too, is something that’ll always be missing from his every day. He won’t get to sit at your kitchen table and watch you fuss over a pot of stew, or have you slide up behind him and kiss his shoulder as he follows your favourite recipe. 

It’s the best stew he’s ever had. Easily. The sun has disappeared behind Yavin, bathing the whole moon in an odd red glow as he eats. The helmet seems to glare at him from the middle of your kitchen table. You’d ducked into the bedroom to eat before he could even suggest that you take the kitchen. Another sacrifice you’ve made for him. What does that make the number now?

His gloves stay on the table while he washes the dishes, at his insistence. Although you’d put up a little bit of a fight. Din doesn’t bother to pick them up when he passes the table, when he appears in your bedroom doorway and you look up from your datapad like it’s the most natural thing in the galaxy. 

You’ve pulled the curtains, shut the world out, and the room is plunged into darkness when you flick the lightswitch by the head of your bed. 

You’re expecting the warmth of his skin on yours when he finally finds his way to you in unfamiliar space. He always sheds his armour so silently. You don’t expect him to take your hands in his, and raise them to the sides of his helmet.

The breath catches in your throat, you know he can hear it. His fingers tremble slightly over yours but he doesn’t waver. He settles them both solidly on either side of his helmet, and guides you for a moment. Your hands follow the rest of the way when he drops his to your waist, you set it carefully on the bedside table and turn back to him. He’s not stupid. He knows you can’t actually see him. But it feels like every barrier between you is finally, melted away. And Din can lay you back on the bed as himself. 

It’s strange to have him in a space that’s become yours. Knowing that in the dark his helmet is sitting on a bedside table next to a picture frame of you and Green Squadron. That he probably saw every drawing Poe’s ever scribbled for you stuck to your fridge. But you force yourself to forget that. You shove it right down until there’s no room in your head for anything but the way he’s clinging to you. Until he is all you know.

“Tell me you don’t love me.” You’re almost asleep when the traitorous words slip out. 

Oh, you think you’re clever. You think you’re leaving him no choice but to confess. You think this is where things finally, finally, start to go your way. They don’t.

“I don’t love you.”

No differently than if he was recounting the weather forecast. And it hurts. But you don’t have it in you to run, to cry, to be angry with him at all. Instead, you fall back down to press your cheek against the warmth of his bare chest, defeated. He holds you there until you’re sleeping.

-

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

[jonahlovescoffee]

“everything’s alright” | J.M.

part two of the better together series

a/n: thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending this cute video into my dms that managed to inspire me to write this <3 even though it came out worse than my expectations :/ anyways, should i name this kid or nah? happy reading!!!

summary: jonah’s the only one who can calm his wailing daughter down.

warnings: more fluff!!!

word count: 1958

Your daughter was exceptionally well-behaved and polite -- only towards people that she’s familiar with, that is, which was why she was a literal angel when she was around the Frantzich family because Jonah, being the responsible son he was, had brought you guys back to his hometown quite frequently to visit his family and they, in turn, adored her very much.

But when it came to visiting your side of the family — something that you rarely did because they lived in another country — it was a different story entirely.

“Mommy, whose house is this?” Your daughter tugged at your hand to get your attention after you pressed the doorbell. She was rubbing her tired eyes with one hand, still a little drowsy after waking up from a long nap on the plane and in the taxi ride to your parents’ house.

“This is grandma and grandpa’s house, can’t you remember? We came here once last year,” you explained and she instantly clung tighter to your hand, her tired expression being replaced by a frightened one as she seemed to fully process what this meant. Being at your parents’ place meant family gatherings and family gatherings meant the presence of too many unfamiliar faces and loads of unwanted attention on her since she was not just the youngest of the generation, but also the kid who was only around once in a blue moon and she wasn’t a fan of too much attention unless it’s from her parents.

“Can we go home, please?” She pleaded yearningly and you offered her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, they won’t bite,” you assured her, but your words did almost nothing to soothe her nerves.

“Plus, I’m here with you this time,” Jonah appeared beside the two of you, having already unloaded all your bags from the boot of the taxi and paid the fare. He reached a hand out to ruffle her hair. “Nothing will go wrong.”

She was about to open her mouth to say something else when the door was suddenly opened by your sister, whose face lit up immediately upon seeing you. “Oh my gosh, hi guys! You’re finally here!” She exclaimed excitedly, extending both of her arms to pull you into a tight embrace. “I missed you so damn much.”

“It’s nice to see you too, sis,” you said as she proceeded to squeeze the air out of you, with no intentions of letting you go anytime soon. “Dummy, you know I love your hugs but if you continue squeezing me any harder I’m going to suffocate,” you joked and she released you with a laugh.

“And you brought along your hot boyfriend this time!” She squealed like a lovestruck fangirl as she gave Jonah another one of her infamous spine-crushing hugs and exchanged quick greetings before squatting down to match your daughter’s eye level.

“Who do we have here?” Your sister cooed at your daughter who was currently hiding behind your leg, staring at your sister warily. “Hi, little one, it’s just me, your aunt,” she held out a hand but your daughter seemed utterly petrified by her friendly gesture and extended her little hands towards you.

“Mommy, up, up,” she whimpered but you didn’t oblige to her request, which made her whining intensify. “Mommy, up, now!”

“Come on, hug your aunt, not mommy,” you urged but she stood at her spot, unmoving, now stomping her feet, still begging you profusely to pick her up.

With a sigh, you eventually picked her up from the ground and she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “She’s shy,” you told your sister, earning an understanding nod from her.

“No worries, I’ll show Jonah the way to the guest bedroom, then,” she stood up and took one of the luggage from Jonah despite his protests and turned on her heels, walking towards the stairs.

Before Jonah could follow suit though, as if she could sense him about to walk away, your daughter yanked on his sleeve to stop him. “Daddy, where are you going? Don’t leave me.”

“Don’t be silly, love. Daddy’s just going to put our bags in the room,” he leaned in to kiss her forehead once. “I’ll be back in a jiffy, you be a good girl with mommy, okay?”

She nodded and let go of him and with a peck on your cheek, he left you both on your own devices. You carried your moody daughter and followed the loud sound of chatter into the living room where most of your family members were gathered at, so deeply immersed in whatever conversation they were having that no one noticed your arrival.

“Hi,” you said meekly and heads snapped towards you all at once, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Oh my gosh, y/n!” After you returned all the hugs by your relatives, much to your daughter’s dismay, you plopped down on the last vacant spot on the couch. As expected, everyone started to bombard you with questions about your life abroad and some tried to humor your daughter to no avail. Yet despite not receiving any response from her no matter how hard they tried, they didn’t give up and leave her alone which was what she truly wanted them to do. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to go somewhere quiet where she could be free of all the attention. She turned towards you to find you happily engaged in a conversation with someone else with the broadest grin plastered on your face.

And she didn’t like the fact that said person appeared to be another man. Based on her 3-year-old childish logic, no other man was allowed to make you as happy as you were now except for Jonah.

She had to stop this now.

“Mommy, mommy,” she called and you stopped talking to focus on her.

“Yes, hun?”

“I don’t wanna be here,” she whined and you pressed your lips into a thin line, slightly annoyed by how your daughter was acting.

“Yes, hun, I know you don’t but mommy wants to catch up with her family, understand?” You pointed to the group of kids playing in the opposite of the living room. “Why don’t you go ahead and join your cousins?” You suggested, expecting her to agree with you but she did the opposite.

Her lips started quivering and started to tear up, indicating that she was about to burst into tears if you didn’t do something quick. You hurriedly looked around for anything that could help you in this situation and spotted a container of cookies on the table, so you unscrewed the lid and took one out for her. “Ssh, don’t cry, here’s a cookie.”

Thankfully, she accepted it and didn’t activate her waterworks, enjoying her cookie in silence as you continued to chat with your relatives. But the calm didn’t last for long.

“How old is she already?” Your brother asked, kneeling in front of the both of you.

Your daughter didn’t like how close he was to you. And her.

She hated being around people that were strangers to her, especially males. There was something intimidating about them that never failed to strike fear in her.

“Three,” you answered and softly nudged her shoulder. “Say hi.”

Your daughter stayed quiet. “Honey? What did I teach you about manners?” You said with an edge in your tone.

Without warning, he picked her up and away from the safety of your lap. “Maybe this little sunshine needs my hug to warm up to me, don’t you, little one?”

That was all it took for her to start wreaking havoc.

“Get away from me! I wanna go home; I wanna go home; I wanna go home!” She wailed, flailing her limbs all around to his shock and he passed her back to you immediately.

Still, she couldn’t stop bawling her eyes out.

“Shhh, baby there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you cooed and stroked her hair in a poor attempt to calm her down. You were half-mad at her for being rude but you knew that it wasn’t the right time to lecture her unless you wanted the current situation to worsen. You weren’t exactly an expert at soothing her nerves. Jonah was the one who’s extremely good at this.

Speaking of him, where on earth is he now? He had been upstairs for a suspiciously long amount of time

As if on cue, your boyfriend walked down the stairs in a fresh set of clothes and completely freshened up. He quickly sprinted towards you when he witnessed the chaos and took her from you right away. “Let me take it from here.”

You mouthed a quick “you’re a lifesaver” and blew him a kiss before returning to your conversation.

Her crying died down instantly when she was in his arms. He knew she hated crowds so he walked through the dining room and the kitchen before reaching transparent sliding doors that led to the backyard. He slid them open and stepped out of the house, his feet coming into contact with the soft grass on the ground.

“Now, what’s wrong, sunshine?” He asked softly. His daughter’s head was resting against his chest, sniffling, her fingers toying with the pendant hanging on the chain around his neck.

“There’s too many new people in the room,” she complained. “It makes me nervous.”

Jonah waited for her to elaborate but she did nothing of the sorts. “I don’t think that’s the whole story, sweetheart.”

“Mommy kept talking to that particular guy and I don’t like it,” she admitted, twirling his chain around her fingers as she continued speaking. “Then he suddenly picked me up and called me ‘sunshine’. Only you can call me that so I…” she trailed off.

“So you lost it?” He asked her and she nodded. “Oh, sunshine, that was just mommy’s brother,” he explained and she seemed to relax a little at his answer.

“But why didn’t you go to play with your cousins in the first place if you disliked the attention?”

“I don’t know. What if they don’t like me?” He chuckled at her question.

“Sweetheart, you know that they’re your cousins, right?” He patted her head gently. “Which means that they’re family and they’ll love you no matter what,” he assured but she didn’t seem the least bit convinced.

“Look, everything’s alright. There’s nothing for you to worry about, sunshine,” he smiled warmly, which made her lips tug slightly upwards into a small smile as well. Seeing that she’s happy now, he re-entered the house and proceeded to make his way back towards the living room.

“Absolutely positively nothing?”

“Absolutely positively nothing,” he said and planted a kiss on her head.

“Now go on and have some fun with your cousins,” he placed her down onto the ground and she ran off in the direction of the group of little kids that she bonded with almost immediately.

Jonah went to sit beside you on the arm of the couch. You leaned into him habitually and placed a hand on his thigh.

“Everything’s settled, my lady,” he said, his voice only loud enough for you to hear.

“Even after all this time I still have no idea how you do it,” you managed to reply before everyone else turned their attention to your boyfriend and started to interrogate him like he was some kind of criminal.

“You know what? I’m starting to understand why our daughter doesn’t want to be here. Damn, does your family really need to know my height or they’ll die or something?” He whispered to you when it was time for lunch and everyone went to the dining room.

You laughed and looped your arm through his as you led him into the dining room.