#I know they both have extended families who would gladly help take care of their brothers but

[lilnasxvevo]

Thought of nieyao modern AU where Meng Yao is Huaisang’s babysitter/nanny and I was like well why the fuck hasn’t anyone written THAT yet (maybe they have, I admit I haven’t looked super hard) and then I had to drive for half an hour and just kept thinking about it and by the time I had gotten to my destination I had shifted to “Meng Yao as Huaisang’s babysitter and also working for Jin Guangshan as a corporate spy trying to get sensitive information about Nie Mingjue’s business” and then shifted again to “what If instead of corporate spies they were regular spies”

[rafescoke]

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town. 

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it. 

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.” 

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.” 

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints. 

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).” 

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz 

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really? 

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).” 

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester. 

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat. 

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?” 

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething. 

Who would even wear a cakey perfume? 

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.” 

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?” 

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number. 

372. 

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.” 

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?” 

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.” 

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?” 

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore. 

But the world wasn’t that fair. 

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island. 

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.” 

Of course she would remember that. 

. . . 

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it. 

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his. 

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker. 

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves. 

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets. 

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.” 

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up. 

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl. 

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?” 

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.” 

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays. 

“Sure.” 

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation. 

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off. 

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!” 

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . . 

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.” 

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them. 

“What about you?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?” 

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?” 

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them. 

“I don’t date.” 

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone. 

“Have you?” 

“Moved on from an ex?” 

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly. 

“I guess.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.” 

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.” 

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.” 

“Yeah? Liar.” 

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently. 

1-0.

. . .

Fuck. 

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot. 

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie. 

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers. 

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it. 

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all. 

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired. 

“Good morning.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless. 

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time. 

12.43p.m. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him. 

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t. 

. . . 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again. 

“Is it not working, Rafey?” 

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat. 

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again. 

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again. 

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell. 

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring. 

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat. 

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving. 

“Hope you have a spare key.” 

1-1. 

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1. 

And the 2 from him. 

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?” 

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?” 

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?” 

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously. 

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.” 

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.” 

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.” 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?” 

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future. 

And it’s full of shit. 

“Tomorrow.” 

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair. 

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.” 

“Including hooking me up with JJ?” 

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating. 

“He helps mower the lawn.” 

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls. 

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.” 

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.” 

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that. 

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses. 

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.” 

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed. 

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair. 

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Wanna do it?” 

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane. 

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away. 

“In one of the rooms?” 

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N). 

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist. 

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.” 

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?” 

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket. 

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call. 

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier. 

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.” 

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. 

He should’ve known. 

. . . 

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car. 

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper. 

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen. 

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window. 

They were cuddling. 

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda. 

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him. 

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else. 

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.” 

“You mean like literal coke?” 

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?” 

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up. 

Good. Did the machine break or something? 

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up. 

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.” 

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.” 

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?” 

She shrugged. 

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.” 

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car. 

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?” 

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up. 

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.” 

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him. 

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor. 

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state. 

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?” 

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him. 

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it. 

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out. 

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.” 

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened. 

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her. 

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat. 

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time. 

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it. 

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes. 

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?” 

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again. 

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help. 

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.” 

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire. 

“Invite me to what?” 

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!” 

Is she fucking serious? 

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely. 

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born. 

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?” 

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips. 

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?” 

“If she wants me too. . .” 

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.” 

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary. 

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?” 

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him. 

Shit. Why was he even looking away? 

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?” 

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.” 

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home. 

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.” 

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth. 

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?” 

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!” 

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets. 

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie. 

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).” 

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.” 

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow. 

“Nuggets?” 

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N). 

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on. 

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?” 

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. 

“Want some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away. 

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. 

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted. 

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N). 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this. 

“For you to shut up.” 

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.” 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position. 

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.” 

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?” 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating. 

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!” 

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen. 

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck. 

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie. 

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.” 

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke. 

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.” 

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways. 

“What’s the next pick?” 

“Horror.” 

“Nah.” 

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.” 

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” 

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?” 

“About you thinking of me.” 

She blushed. “Nah.” 

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh. 

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place. 

“You locked the door.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.” 

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.” 

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle. 

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa. 

“Still playing hard to get?” 

“I’m not playing anything.” 

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled. 

“Still playing?” 

She nodded. 

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away. 

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.” 

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.” 

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.” 

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more. 

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips. 

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” 

“You.” 

“Huh?” 

“You.” 

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.” 

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease. 

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving. 

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?” 

“Am not comfortable.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.” 

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see. 

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.” 

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release. 

“Do it,” she whispered. 

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot. 

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous. 

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.” 

Oh fuck. 

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore. 

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again. 

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better. 

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly. 

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for  being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end. 

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.” 

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head. 

“The movie’s still on.” 

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.” 

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

[btswrckd]

War of Hearts

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight angst, mentions of weapons such as guns and knives, brief mention of smut, future smut

A/N: I wanted to post this as a one-shot, but naturally, I couldn’t condense it enough. There’s just too much that can’t be left out. But the good news is that I’m about 90% done with this fic and should be able to post it in maybe 3 parts. Enjoy guys!

Also, title is inspired by War of Hearts by Ruelle. Go listen to her music, it’s amazing!

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“You’re asking me to do what, now?” you hiss through clenched teeth, fingers curling into the underside of the armrest of the boarding room chair. How your idiot cousins managed to both purchase a rather nice building in the middle of the city, and run a legitimate business as a cover to their true nature, is a mystery to you. Yet here you are, ten seconds from launching yourself across the table to strangle either one of them. 

“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Joongki is confident in the way he answers you and buttons his suit jacket. “And I didn’t ask you to do anything, I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan as he stands by his brother and nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He catches your eye, licking his busted lip as you raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to confirm what Joongki just said. You watch his hand come up to rub at his sore jaw and get some satisfaction as he works his jawbone back and forth.

Joongki lets out a heavy sigh as his brother all but whimpers under your gaze. He was well aware of how much you’d fight their men in getting you to the building, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong swing of your fist, or the nearly deafening sound of said fist cracking his younger brother across the face. 

“We’re all each other has,” Jeonghan finally pipes up after deducing that his jaw was not broken. “This is for your own safety, Y/N. I don’t like it any more than you do but there’s no other option.”

“I will not be thrown under lock and key just because you two have enemies.” You’re standing before either of them can argue. “I didn’t ask for this! For you two to be who you are and making my life more difficult than it already is!”

Joongki scratches at his brow when a mop of messily done up chestnut hair pops up over the cubicle wall separating her from the boarding room. He waves his secretary away with a slight twitch of his lips, watching the flushing of her cheeks and bobbing of her head before it disappears. He’s too busy smirking down at his feet to notice the way you swing around the chair. Or the way Jeonghan desperately reaches to stop you from storming out. What he does notice is the small ‘oomph’ leaving your mouth when you stumble into somebody, and suddenly he’s brought back to the importance of the situation.

You don’t expect to be stopped, you certainly don’t expect to be stopped by a firm chest and steadying hand on your hip. When you finally catch your bearings, you blink up at the man that had somehow walked into the room without making a sound. It’s with a heavy heart that you recognize this man despite having lost contact with him years ago. You were children when you’d last met so it takes you a minute to see him clearly, your eyes roving all over his face. Starting with what used to be his bouncy black locks that were now replaced with slicked down hair, to the never changing intensity of his dark brown eyes, down to the defined jaw that used to harbor a little bit of cute chub, and finally back up to his plush lips that split into a grin. 

“You,” you breathe airily and your stunned reaction only makes his smile grow wider. 

“You,” he mimics and tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise. “It’s nice to see you too, princess.”

“Mr. Kim,” Joongki reluctantly smiles while extending his hand to greet his rival, fingers tensing around the man’s answering hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m aware that my brother and I are asking a lot from you and that this situation isn’t exactly ideal for either party, but I just want to thank you for helping us out.”

“I never said this situation wasn’t ideal for me.” Kim Taehyung gave one final squeeze to Joongki’s hand before slipping it into the pocket of his pants. His other hand remains firm on your hip, the heat from his palm burning through the denim of your jeans and making your breath hitch. “I believe my father’s been hoping to merge our families for quite some time. I look at this as an opportunity rather than a ‘situation’.”

“Yes, well.” Joongki shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The Kim family had great influence over 90% of the city and before your grandfather’s passing, Mr. Kim had high hopes of taking two entities and making them one strong force. With your grandfather’s death came the need for new leadership and it fell heavily on Joongki’s shoulders. To say he’d snubbed the Kim family when it came to working together would be putting it lightly. “It seems your father will be getting exactly as he’s always wanted.”

Jeonghan thrusts an elbow to his older brother’s arm. He may not understand the magnitude of being a leader, but he knows when to play nice, and this moment called for practically kneeling down and kissing the Kim family’s feet. He looks to the way you stand stiff in Taehyung’s arms and the curling of your fingers against his suit vest. For a moment, he considers calling the entire thing off and convincing his brother to find another way to keep you safe. He opens his mouth to do just that when Taehyung speaks.

“I have every intention of keeping Y/N safe, be it from whoever is threatening you, my own family, or even you two.” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in his chest as his hand pulls you ever so slightly closer. “My father may have wanted this for some time, but believe me when I say that I’ve wanted it longer. Nothing and no one will hurt her, I promise you that.”

Jeonghan and Joongki share a concerned glance with each other before your voice breaks the silence. 

“Kim Taehyung.” His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth. The last time you’d seen him you were being carted away by your parents at the age of 10. The sudden announcement of your family’s move left you waving to a chubby cheeked, teary eyed Taehyung as your father pulled away from your childhood home. They died not soon after and you were taken under the care of your grandfather along with Joongki and Jeonghan. But even after your grandfather reestablished a relationship with the Kim family, you hadn’t seen Taehyung again since that day.

“Princess,” he husks out, eyes dropping to your lips and thumb stroking your hip in soothing circles as if it were going to help any. Something dark is swirling in your eyes as you regard him, and he’s sure you don’t recognize it as lust but he does. He sees it fester and simmer before you blink it away and sneer up at him. 

You cousins simultaneously wince as you draw back and take one quick strike to Taehyung, kneeing him in the groin with a huff before you stomp out of the room. When Taehyung slumps to the floor with a pain filled groan, Joongki feels a bit of sympathy for him. Your temper and raging need to fight against anything and everything to do with this life will be a daily struggle. Jeonghan coughs to hide his laugh as Taehyung’s right hand man looks torn between helping his boss, or chasing you down to make sure you don’t get too far. This will certainly be entertaining to watch.

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

“Let go of me!” you grunt out as Taehyung adjusts your frame on his shoulder. You’re kicking and pounding against his back with the hopes of getting free and escaping, but those hopes are dashed when he tosses you on the mattress of the master bedroom. You scramble back against the headboard as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. The frustrated roll of his shoulders and neck is undoubtedly sexy, but it also serves as a reminder that you aren’t meant to find him attractive. At all. As you curse yourself for even thinking as much, he’s snatching your ankles and dragging you down the bed.

Taehyung would never hurt you, he knows that you know that, but watching the small bit of fear flitting across your face has him smirking down at you. He plants both hands on either side of your head to cage you in, hips pressed to yours as you unconsciously widen them to accommodate his frame. “If you wanted to go out, princess, then you could have asked. Jungkookie and Jimin would gladly drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Even away from you?” You glare at him, panic washing over you when you feel the bed dip and he’s on his knees, the added weight pulling you closer to him. His arms slide forward until his nose grazes yours. He’s so close that he could kiss you and you think he’s going to until his nose skims down the length of your neck instead.

“There is no getting away from me, princess,” he whispers against your skin. “I’d think you’d know that by now. You’ve been trying to run from me for the last 6 months and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

You’d beg to differ, Being underneath him was surprisingly pleasant. The push of his hips against yours made you gasp and arch into his chest. You slam your eyes shut to get ahold of yourself, silently reciting your mantra of ‘I’m not a horny teenager, I’m a grown woman, and I am not attracted to my husband’. 

Taehyung could smell the sweet scent of berries on your skin from that damn bottle of lotion you love so much. He didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object but he is. He’s also tempted to throw the stupid thing away and burn down every Bath and Body Works store so you can’t get another one. The image of your hands slathering the cream up and down your smooth legs makes him groan and push against you a little harder. He likes to think he isn’t some creep who forces himself on a girl, and if you weren’t so responsive, he wouldn’t even touch you without permission. 

A lot of men in their line of work didn’t think consent was an issue, some of them even found the fight to be a turn on, and you’re grateful that Taehyung‘s not that kind of man. In fact, he’d said on several occasions that he wouldn’t come closer than necessary if you weren’t okay with it. He even went as far as sleeping in one of the many guest rooms in the house, dropping the one and only key to the master bedroom in your hand so only you had access to it. This went on for 2 months before you’d lashed out and tried sneaking off for a night out with friends. Naturally Taehyung had hunted you down and dragged you back to the house, lecturing you on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone where you’d be. The next morning his things had been moved into the room and he invaded every inch of your space every chance he got. 

You didn’t want to admit that waking up to his face inches from yours was something you’d easily gotten used to, but then again you didn’t actually need to voice it out loud. Not when you’d woken up one morning to find your legs tangled with his, your arms tossed across his torso, and clinging to him like a koala. You had squeaked and fell out of bed in your haste to untangle yourself from him. He had woken up in fear that something happened, but chuckled when he saw you on the floor, blankets and sheets raveled around your legs. Embarrassed and flushed, you’d shot him a glare as he’d gotten out of bed and strode into the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

After that, you had made it your daily mission to see just how far you could push him to his breaking point. Little things such as “accidentally” walking away from Jimin or Jungkook in a crowded area, or turning down a meal that Seokjin had prepared because you were “exhausted” even though you’d done nothing that day, and even taking the hand of Namjoon or Hoseok once or twice instead of Taehyung’s when moving through a room full of people. You could see Taehyung’s frustration boiling beneath the surface and kicked it up a notch by giving your undivided attention to Yoongi during dinner one night. Yoongi of course, knew what you were doing and would have been scared of the repercussions of flirting with you if Taehyung hadn’t trusted him so much.

Yoongi played along with your little show, allowing you to lean in a little too close when talking, whispering in your ear about how much trouble you’d be in if Taehyung snapped, and letting you “subtly” run your finger across his knuckles. He had used his napkin to hide his smile when Taehyung had sprung up from his seat, snatched your wrist, and dragged you to the master bedroom. He had cleaned up the table and clapped Jimin and Jungkook on the shoulders, advising them to use headphones or sleep in the car for the rest of the night.

Taehyung had watched you stumble into the room, descending on you quickly when you had turned to yell at him. Whatever you were going to say had died on your tongue as he backed you against the wall, gripping your chin and hissing something about the possibility of killing Yoongi. You, equally as pissed, began to rant and scream about having your freedom taken away and wanting to teach Taehyung a lesson for confusing your already fogged up brain by being a gentleman rather than the piss poor excuse of a man most gang members are. 

Taehyung had the audacity to smirk, fucking smirk, before crashing his mouth to yours and tangling his hand in your hair. He had tugged at the strands until you gasped and he slipped his tongue in to push against yours. He felt your hands wrenching the fabric of his dress shirt but he didn’t give you room to breathe, instead pressing you against the wall further. At some point he had started toying with the button to your jeans, waiting for your refusal, and when you hadn’t slapped him away, he popped the button open. 

You had gasped loudly at the feel of his fingers, the rough pads running up and down your slit, stopping to press and rub at your clit before he was sinking his fingers in knuckles deep. You didn’t remember much else except for the overwhelming pleasure and the raspy sound of Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung echoing around the room. Afterwards, he had avoided you like the plague until you’d finally managed to corner him in the kitchen one night. You’d been huffy, demanding an explanation for his absence. Not that you’d missed him, of course. He’d said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night and that he was sorry for losing control, to which you had scoffed. You clarified that discomfort wasn’t what you had felt, you were an adult, and just as willing as he was, and to stop tiptoeing around you.

“Princess,” the bane of your existence growls out, bringing you back to the present. He chuckles, deep and rich, and sends goosebumps across your skin. “For someone who wants to get as far away from me as possible, you don’t seem to be willing to let me go.”

You look down at your hands curled into his shirt and immediately release your hold. It seems you were too caught up in your trip down memory lane to notice. You drop your hands from his chest and avert your eyes to the door where two sharp knocks catch his attention as well. 

“Boss,” Namjoon’s voice drifts through the wood, “your phone’s been ringing like crazy. Your father is trying to reach you.”

Taehyung sighs in disappointment and shifts away, pressing against your core one last time and you squeeze your legs together as if to keep him in place. He recognizes the faint blush on your cheeks as embarrassment and places a soft kiss to your cheek. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, princess. I know you get a kick out of raising Jungkook’s blood pressure, but raising mine in the process will leave you widowed sooner than you’d think.”

You feel as though you’re finally able to breathe now that he’s out of the room and put a hand to your racing chest. It wasn’t just his blood pressure that’s been spiking lately. You sit up and tuck your arms beneath your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You really thought you were close this time around. The memory of being giddy as you tore through the airport to catch the plane to literally anywhere but here, only to freeze in the middle of the terminal as Taehyung stood in your way with his hands casually tucked in his pockets and his army of men around him. You run your hands through your hair and tug at the roots in anger, cursing your cousins and the day they were born.

Outside, Taehyung tugs at the buttons of his dress shirt while pressing his phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“Either your security system has gone to shit,” Mr. Kim calmly scolds his son, “or there’s a rat in your home. I’m looking through your camera footage as we speak, and unless I’m officially going senile, the cameras look like they’re in some kind of loop.”

“What kind of loop?” Taehyung is already making his way to the security room with Namjoon in tow. 

“A car speeds past your security gate, seemingly at the same exact time every day, same make and model every time too. That’s not a coincidence, son, handle it quickly before it gets out of control.”

“On it.” Taehyung throws open the door to the security room, startling the guys watching the live feed from the cameras. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Behind you,” Yoongi’s voice makes his presence known, trailing in and sitting at his personal computer to go through the footage Taehyung is there to discuss. “Everyone out.”

The other two men scramble outside with break neck speed. If Yoongi and Taehyung are here then something only they know about is going on, and nobody wants to get caught in the middle of it unless necessary.

“What’s going on with our cameras?” Taehyung looks over Yoongi’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Yoongi sighs, pressing play on the paused screen while a miniature box with his personal coding pops up in the corner. “I noticed the same gray Tahoe driving down our street every day for the last week, and at first I thought somebody tampered with the cameras, so I built a code to filter through the system and push out whatever was installed to make this look like it’s on a loop. When nothing changed, I did some maintenance on the camera’s themselves, and still nothing. Someone is timing it just right to fool us, because check this out.” Yoongi pulls up another screen, zooming in on the corner of the frame where another car is doing a surprisingly good job of hiding. “So I can’t see who exactly the driver is, but I do know that they wait in this exact spot until the clock hits 3 on the dot. When that happens, they make a call, and out comes the Tahoe. Every. Single. Time.”

“One of ours?” Taehyung’s referring to one of the guys they keep on the property for extra measure. 

“No one here did it. I rifled through their phones, computers, whatever I could and nothing popped up.” Yoongi confirms and points to the screen. “About an hour after the Tahoe zips by the screen, the car in hiding pulls out and goes the opposite direction, also part of tricking the cameras so we think there’s a glitch.”

“And the license plate?” Namjoon chimes in from the seat beside Yoongi.

“Belongs to a little old lady on the other side of the world. Looking for a date, Joon? She likes to read the same books you do and she crochets.” Yoongi jokes, “personally, I’d like a new sweater for Christmas.”

“Find out who it is.” Taehyung doesn’t laugh, not exactly appreciating the joke, and storms out of the room, throwing the door open so wide that it smacks against the wall.

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

You don’t recognize your own reflection. The woman in the mirror with foundation caked on much too heavily, curled and mascara filled lashes, and lips painted in a color that was meant to seem natural, did not look a thing like you. You’re close to wiping your face clean when the door to the room swings open and Jeonghan strolls in like he owns the place. It occurs to you that he probably does. 

“What?” you huff at him as he comes up behind you. 

“I know you’re angry,” he whispers, sadness in his eyes as he meets your reflection. “But we promised grandpa that we’d take care of you. Too much is happening for us to not take precaution. Everyone knows how much you mean to us and if they get to you, we’d be devastated.”

“Then why can’t I go abroad?” you ask, turning to him with pleading eyes and he takes a step back. You see tears building in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He’s proud, you realize, as a smile spreads across his face. He’s proud of you, proud of who you are as a person despite the kind of business your parents ran. 

“You’re gorgeous, little cousin,” Jeonghan lets out a shaky exhale, unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions slamming into him. “Grandfather, our parents, everybody would have loved to be here. To see you---.”

“Signing my life away?” you don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. You don’t want to hear it. There was a time when you believed your wedding day would be a celebration, not a life sentence. You look down to the white of your dress, the gown suddenly felt too constricting and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. “I don’t want this, Joenghan, please don’t make me do this.”

“If this were anyone else, I’d whisk you away without argument.” Jeonghan looks away from your face to keep himself from ruining everything. “But this is Taehyung, Y/N. You used to be friends and you cared so much for each other. We’ve known the Kim family for so long now that this would have happened eventually, don’t you think?”

“I would have still liked to have the option!” You stand from the chair and stalk towards him. “My friendship with Taehyung ended when we were children. I don’t know who he is now or what he’s done to get this far, but I do know that anyone willing to go to this length to get what they want is not someone to be trusted.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Joongki steps into the room and looks to his brother to find relief crossing his face. “It seems I got here just in time, little brother, you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“She scares me,” Jeonghan admits while moving for the door. “Men with guns, knives, even the occasional psychopath I can handle, but Y/N? Nope, that’s asking too much.”

You glare at your cousin slipping outside before you can say more, and you turn to Joongki. “I’m not being dramatic, you jackass, I’m being logical. You guys have hovered over me my entire life, is it so wrong to want control over at least this part of it?”

“I don’t need to remind you that this is for your own safety.” Joongki’s tone is harsh, a complete contrast to Jeonghan, but harsh was something you could fight against. Harsh, you could throw back in his face. The gentle lull of Jeonghan’s voice, you couldn’t, and often found yourself feeling guilty for hurting him.

“I don’t need to remind you that even if my parents were still alive, this isn’t the life I would have chosen,” you spit back at your eldest cousin, watching his shoulders tense. “Even if grandfather were still alive, I would have fought tooth and nail against this just like I am now. What the hell, Joongki? Weren’t you the one that was opposed to merging the families in the first place? And what, because you and Jeonghan pissed off some people, I have to pay the consequences?”

“Powerful people, Y/N,” Joongki hisses at you, “powerful people that wouldn’t think twice about torturing you to get to us.”

“So then this is more about protecting yourselves than it is me?” Your chest rises and falls with the building anger, and he looks at you with so much fire in his eyes that you’re sure Joongki would strike you at any moment. “This is about not having to babysit me anymore and dumping me off on some poor sack whose life I’m about to make a living hell!”

“It was always about you!” Joongki roars, the volume making you drop your eyes to the ground as you had with your grandfather and father. They’d never hit you, never even so much as raised a hand to you, but they were able to correct your behavior with their voices alone. “We didn’t babysit you, Y/N, we took care of you. We are still taking care of you not because we think we’re obligated to, but because you are our baby cousin. The only family we have left and someone is threatening that, threatening you, and if you think that doesn’t haunt us every time you’re out of our sight, then you’re wrong. I’d do this for Jeonghan too if I had to, I’d even do it for myself, as long as all of us are safe and alive. You want to make a mess of Kim Taehyung? Go ahead, turn his life upside down if you want to, so long as you stay under their protection.”

“I don’t want protection, Joongki.” You look back at his face with a trembling lip. “I want freedom. I want to walk down the street without your men trailing me or the fear of looking back and finding that someone else is. This is your world, not mine. This was our parents world, it wasn’t ours until they were gone. They wanted more for us, Joongki, don’t you remember that?”

“I remember their broken and bloodied bodies when they crossed the wrong person. I remember their pale, lifeless faces in their caskets as you curled up in grandfather’s lap and fought your sleep for weeks afterwards. I remember the way you screamed every time you shut your eyes because all you could see was ‘the bad man with a gun’. I remember promising grandfather that I would do whatever it took to keep you and Jeonghan from suffering the same fate that our parents did.”

You turn away from him to peer out of the window, seeing the guests that consisted solely of friends and family on Taehyung’s side. Children ran across the yard, parents scolded them for dirtying their clothes, and as you glanced around you spotted Taehyung. He was standing with Jungkook, a man he kept close to his side out of trust, nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying. There was no denying how handsome Taehyung was, or the way it sent shivers up your spine when a little girl ran to him and he scooped her up without hesitation. You didn’t know what the little girl was excited about, but you could guess it had to do with your soon to be husband with the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. His eyes were warm when he looked at her, accepting the little flower she’d picked from the garden around the side of the house. He tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket, right where his heart was, and patted it gently in promise to keep it on. He set her down and she ran off with a giggle and a blush across her cheeks. You were staring too long, you knew, because he felt it. Taehyung peered up at the window in time to catch you moving away. 

“Y/N,” Joongki whispers to catch your attention. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. Taehyung’s family may run in the same circles as our parents, but they’ve always been kind to us. My refusal to bring the families closer didn’t stop them from keeping a relationship with us.”

“Maybe it’s out of pity.” You try one last time to get under his skin, but you know better than anyone that he’s tired. Tired and defeated and hanging on by a thread.

“Even if it was out of pity, that’s something we can use right now.” He comes up behind you, smoothing down the back of your hair and leaving a kiss to the top of your head. He presses his forehead to the spot he just kissed and sighs. “Mr. Kim could think the lowest of me and the mess I’ve made of our family’s reputation, and I’d still take his help if it meant I didn’t lose you or my brother.”

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

“You know, eventually,” Jimin sighs tiredly, trailing behind Taehyung as they walk into the house, “people are going to call the cops for kidnapping.”

“The cops aren’t stupid enough to go against our family,” Taehyung grunts out, the squirming and fidgeting nearly made him lose his grip more than once. It was admirable, at first, when you’d begun thrashing against him, believing you could truly break free. Now, it was a nuisance, and he promptly drops you on your ass in the middle of the living room.

“Asshole!” You seethe, jumping back to your feet and wincing at your sore bottom. You have no idea what set Taehyung off at the mall, but you’re pissed that he ruined the first outing you were actually excited about. One minute, you were browsing through your favorite section at the bookstore, and the next, he was dragging you out by the hand. In the car on the way over, he hadn’t spoken a word, refusing to explain himself, so you refused to get out of the car when Jungkook pulled into the driveway. Apparently, Taehyung wasn’t so mad that he couldn’t throw you over his shoulder and march into the house. 

“Jesus, Taehyung, what the hell is your problem?!”

“Who was he?” Taehyung demands, shooing Jimin and Jungkook to the other room. He grits his teeth when Jungkook hesitates to move. ”Jeon Jungkook, did I or did I not tell you leave?”

“You’re pissed, Taehyung, and look like you could tear someone’s head off,” Jungkook fires right back and looks past his boss to you. You may not be afraid of Taehyung’s temper, but Jungkook is. He’s seen what Taehyung and his temper could do to things and people, and he’ll be damned if you end up hurt because of it.

“That head could be yours if you don’t get the hell out of my sight,” Taehyung snaps, “go!”

“Go, Kook,” you agree with Taehyung. You’ve never seen him go at Jungkook like this and it isn’t helping if Jungkook keeps defying Taehyung, so removing him from the situation seems like the logical answer at the moment. “It’s ok. Just go, please.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw and turns to leave with much reluctance. He’s out of sight but not out of ear shot when Jimin meets him halfway. “He’s going to hurt her, you and I both know that.”

“It’s not as serious as you think.” Jimins pats his shoulder, reassuring him that everything will be fine. “You know that someone’s been circling the house, and had Y/N not insisted on going out today, then Taehyung wouldn’t have been so on edge to start with. There’s too many people at the mall, too many entrances and exits, too many cracks to be slipped through, too many opportunities for someone to get at Y/N if they tried. Trust me, Jungkookie, this anger that you think Taehyung has is actually fear, okay? So leave them be to hash it out and we’ll go running in the second something seems off.”

Back in the living room, Taehyung is pacing, running a hand down his face, and seeming like he’s having trouble putting into words what exactly he’s upset about. When he finally stops, it’s simply to stalk towards you and stand toe to toe. “Why are there rules, princess, hm? Why do I tell you to stick to Jungkook and Jimin like glue when we’re out? Why do you think I stick to you like fucking glue when we’re out?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘princess’ now?” you scoff. “A minute ago, you wouldn’t say a damn thing, but now you’re asking me to recite some bogus ass rules like I’m in primary school. You don’t get to be pissed in this situation, Taehyung, not when I’m the one who’s getting zero explanation for your outburst.”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” he raises his voice, not quite yelling. “I need you to fucking listen when one of us tells you to do something. The guys aren’t here for decoration, Y/N, they’re here to keep you safe, but they can’t do that when you insist on being a brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat!” you screech loud enough for half the world to hear. It’s actually surprising that Taehyung’s eardrum didn’t burst. 

“Well, you’re not exactly a fucking saint,” Taehyung counters and it’s your turn to start pacing, your hands gripping onto the roots of your hair.

“Oh, my God,” you laugh humorlessly, “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Kim Taehyung! You irritating, overbearing, senseless piece of---.” You don’t know what possesses you to swing your hand out, palm open, and try to slap his face.

He catches your wrist, sees the immediate regret in your eyes, yet still hauls you to the nearby wall. He presses you to the plastered surface, using his free hand to box you in so you can’t run away. Truthfully, he’d let go the second you ask, but a line has to be drawn. You have to, absolutely have to start listening to him and the other guys, otherwise something could go very, very wrong.

“Want to hit me, princess?” he hisses inches from your face as he leans in. “Want to get violent because you can’t do whatever you want anymore? That’s pretty ironic for someone who cried at the mere thought of being hit. I can barely raise my hand to you, but you can swing at me all you want, is that it? That’s not how it works, princess, I suggest you learn that real quick. Now you owe me something for trying to hit me. I let that shit go when you first kneed me in the balls, so it’s more like you owe me two, but I’m nice enough to collect on just one. Tell me who your little friend was in the bookstore.”

You’d like to think you’re not scared, yet it was evident what Taehyung was really capable of when pushed too far. He’s been patient with you, far too patient, and willingly plays along with whatever bullshit you pull for the day. It’s amazing he hasn’t broken your wrist for trying to slap him. Especially, when you know good and well that you wouldn’t hesitate to break his if the roles were reversed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no friend in the bookstore.”

“The guy, princess,” he hisses, momentarily tightening his grip. “The guy in the store that was happily chatting you up. Who was he?”

You wrack your brain for this person he’s talking about and it’s like a cartoon light bulb goes off above your head. “The man who was talking to me about the book in my hand?”

“Yes, that guy.”

“He’s not a friend,” you insist, glaring at your husband, “just some stranger trying to hit on me. Is that what this is about? Some random guy trying to get my number? Your jealousy is really unparalleled, Kim.” 

“I wasn’t jealous. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be the one I’d take it out on.That ring on your finger is there for a reason, anyone who can’t respect it or the boundaries it represents won’t live to see the next day. I’m asking about this ‘random’ guy because I don’t think he was random at all, I think he approached you with a purpose.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is afraid of you, Taehyung.” You relax now that he’s calmer than before. The grip on your wrist was loose and he was drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb. 

“No, princess, they’re not afraid of me in front of you because they have a hard time believing anyone as gorgeous as you would have anything to do with someone like me.” He slumps against your frame, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask with shaky breaths. It wasn’t easy to hold him up and he wasn’t even putting his full weight on you. “Better yet, why didn’t you ask him right then and there?”

“Where do you think he is now, baby?” Taehyung opens his mouth against your neck, working the flesh between his teeth and using his tongue to soothe the sting before he bites down again. He feels your fingers grip his hair, to hold him in place or tug him away, he doesn’t know. He just knows that you haven’t recoiled from his touch yet.

Your head lulls back and your eyes shut on their own accord. Your hand also has a hard time listening to your brain as it reaches out to hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer. He obliges, using one knee to part your thighs and press against you. The sudden feel of his muscled thigh putting pressure against your clothed core makes you jump in his hold. When he flexes that muscle, you gasp and buck your hips. So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re riding his thigh, and he’s moving his mouth to the other unmarked side of your neck.

You choose an awfully slow pace for someone trying to get off. Taehyung’s done marking up the skin of your neck with deep shades of purple and can finally pull back a bit to admire you. He presses his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless moan and your face contorts with pleasure. You’re riding him slow, but with a purpose, he realizes, intent on enjoying every single push and pull of your hips. Both of your hands lock together at the nape of his neck and you whimper at your building orgasm. You don’t recall the coil in your belly winding as tight as it is right now with anyone else. No, only Taehyung can evoke this kind of reaction. 

You know he can feel the wet patch growing on his pants and you’re thankful that he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, he’s rather quiet for someone who’d been scolding you just moments before. You don’t look at his face, not purposefully ignoring him, but completely mesmerized by the deep onyx color of his pants growing even deeper the wetter it gets. You clench around nothing, nearly sobbing at the empty feeling and rocking your hips just a little bit faster than before. You want more, you need more, you need, “your hand,” you gasp out to him. “I need your hand, Tae, please.”

“I can’t do that ,baby,” he groans at having to deny you, ready to shoot himself in the foot for being all too in control. “If I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“You did before.” You want to cry. You’re probably going to cry soon if you don’t get what you want.

“Barely, princess. I barely controlled myself last time. If I do it now, I’ll take you against this wall, and then every other surface of this house. You’re not ready for that yet. You can do this. Cum against me like this, baby, I know you can.”

You’re close, so fucking close but then...

“Hey, boss-- oh shit, sorry!” Seokjin’s shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he quickly spins around to face literally anywhere but you and Taehyung. “Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok need you for something.”

 “What?” Taehyung growls out, watching your entire neck and face flush a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. “What could they possibly fucking need in this exact moment that you can’t handle, Seokjin?”

“Uh, th-they didn’t say,” Seokjin stammers, silently cursing Namjoon and Hoseok for sending him to get Taehyung instead of doing it themselves. Those little bastards had to have known Taehyung was busy. And you. Oh, the look on your face when you saw him hurt his heart. He knows how mortified you feel at having been caught. He can hear the rustling of clothes as you gather yourselves, the panting breaths of two frustrated adults doing adult things, and holy crap Seokjin wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I can tell them you’re busy, if you need me to.”

“No!” you squeak, shoving Taehyung away harder than you meant to, and Seokjin jolts at the octave of your voice. “I mean, no. Tae’s not...Taehyung isn’t busy. I’m-- I have to be...anywhere that’s not here.”

Seokjin hears you run off, the patting of your shoes carries you across the house with speed he didn’t think anyone but an olympic track star had. He doesn’t want to turn around. He’d kill to not have to turn around.

“If this isn’t as urgent as they made it out to be,” Taehyung’s voice is steely, cruel as he approaches Seokjin, “then all 3 of you are getting tossed into the river, do you hear me?”

“Understood.” Seokjin holds his breath while Taehyung shoulders past him, ducking his head down and following close behind.

Yoongi is busy deleting all the footage from the past hour when Taehyung barges in. “I’m already on it, and no, I didn’t watch it. I’m not some greasy perv. None of the other guys were in here either. I kicked them out as soon as you had Jungkook and Jimin leave you two alone.”

“Right now, Yoongi, you and Jimin are the only ones safe from me.” Taehyung leaves feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d at least be spared from the entire house knowing what happened. 

Seokjin stops in the doorway of the security room. “You little kiss ass.”

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m doing my job.” Yoongi smirks at him. “It’s not my fault Namjoon and Hobi threw you under the bus.”

“So they did know!” Seokjin has half a mind to pummel the both of them.

“Oh, they knew. Namjoon was actually on his way to the living room when Jimin and Jungkook stopped him.”

“I’ll kill them,” Seokjin swears, “I’ll kill all of them.”

“Seokjin, get your ass over here now!” Taehyung’s voice booms, making Seokjin jump and scurry in his direction. 

Namjoon and Hoseok are in the garage, standing a few feet away from the poor bastard tied to a chair. When Taehyung had called them earlier to pick up the guy talking to you at the bookstore, they didn’t imagine he’d look like an average Joe. Guys in the mafia tend to dress nice, carry themselves a certain way, even walk and talk a certain way. But this guy. This guy looks like he could be an accountant or a librarian.

“Man, this is going to really suck if he’s not working for anyone,” Hoseok comments, almost feeling guilty. “He really could be just some guy who saw a pretty girl and tried to get her number.”

“I’d agree if he wasn’t carrying Cecil’s business card.” Namjoon hands the man’s wallet to Hoseok.

“It must be nice to have such a big ego that you’d make professional hitman cards and label them as ‘business’.” Hoseok rifles through the wallet, pulling out credit cards, debit cards, cash, a few photos, until he finally finds a little white paper with Cecil’s number scrawled across it. “I’d hardly call this a business card.”

“Hobi, focus,” Namjoon reminds him, tilting his head in the man’s direction.

“Alright.” Hoseok approaches the man and bends to his sitting height, producing an I.D. card. “Sunho. How do you know Y/N?”

“Who?” Sunho whimpers, blood seeping from his busted lip. “I-I don’t even know who that is.”

“Seemed pretty chummy with her in the bookstore this afternoon.”

“That girl?” Sunho is quick to shake his head. “I just thought she was really cute, that’s all. I didn’t know she was married.”

“Ok, then how do you know Cecil?” Hoseok moves on to the next question without missing a beat. 

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Why else would you have his card?” Namjoon asks as the garage door swings open, a very pissed looking Taehyung strolling in a second later. He whistles low and grips the back of Hoseok’s shirt to haul him out of Taehyung’s path. 

“Oh, hey, Seokjin.” Hoseok shoots him a teasing smile. “I see you were able to get Taehyung’s attention.”

“I swear to God, I will fuck you up right here and now, Hobi.” Seokjin glares at the younger man before turning his attention to Taehyung and Sunho. 

“Sunho,” Taehyung sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I was very, very fucking busy inside my home and I was interrupted before anything productive got done.” He shoots forward and braces his hands on the arms of the chair Sunho is tied to. “So you see, I’m not in the mood for playing games. I’m going to explain to you how this works very carefully. Ready?”

Sunho manages a pathetic nod and Taehyung stands straight while undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves and rolls them up his forearms. He swallows the saliva gathered on his tongue, panic washing over him when Taehyung produces a crowbar from the workbench he’s only now seeing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Taehyung explains, pointing one end of the crowbar at Sunho. “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you go. Pay for the hospital bill that’s sure to wrack up given what these two have done to you,” he pauses to point at Namjoon and Hoseok, “and set you up for life as an apology. Sound fair?” He doesn’t wait for Sunho’s reply before continuing. “But if you lie to me, this crowbar will be the least of your worries, definitely one of the less painful weapons in our arson. Now tell me, how do you know Cecil?” 

Sunho’s face is covered in tears by the time Taehyung is finished talking. His body shakes with how hard he sobs. “He ap-approached me last month, p-paid me $3,000 to drive a gray Tahoe down whatever street his guys called from. I didn’t think anything of it, until it got really weird. I noticed they’d only call me once a day at 2 or 2:30, tell me to wait at the end of your block until it hit 3 on the hour and then drive past the gate. They gave me your wife’s picture and told me to keep an eye out for her. When I realized they were stalking her, I thought I should warn her.”

“So you followed us to the mall?” Taehyung asks, crouching down to look Sunho in the eye. He uses the end of the crowbar to lift Sunho’s chin up. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what I could say,” Sunho sobs harder. “I mean, I-I was helping them stalk her. She’d think I was crazy if I just came right out and said it. So, I just walked up and asked her about the book she had. I didn’t know what the fucking title was, I just knew she had to be warned. I didn’t get that far before you came up and took her away.”

“Did Cecil tell you what he wanted with her?”

“No. Just to drive the car and watch out for her.”

Taehyung looks back to Hoseok, taking the picture from his outstretched hand. He observes the photo quietly. “These your kids, Sunho?”

“Yes.” Sunho’s bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t hurt them! Please! They’re just kids to a shitty father drowning in debt. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did Cecil threaten them?” Seokjin comes up behind Taehyung, scanning the faces of two kids that couldn’t more than 8 and 10 years old. 

“He said I could either take the job willingly,” Sunho cries, snot and tears mixing together at his top lip, “or I could watch him torture my kids until I accept it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Their grandparents’ house. Their mother died 3 years ago, it’s just me and them. I gave them to their grandmother the same day Cecil came to me.”

“Why you?” Hoseok wonders aloud. “There’s professionals out there to get jobs like this done. Hell, even Cecil’s guys, as dumb as they are, could do a better job than you did. Their morality wouldn’t get in the way either, that’s for sure. So what makes you so special for a job like this?”

“My kids’ mother.” Sunho releases a fresh round of tears. “She was a girl he’d taken care of in her teenage years when she was a waitress at some dingy dive bar. There was an accident 3 years ago. A head on collision with a drunk driver. Cecil hates that I survived but she didn’t. This is his way of getting back at me, I guess.”

Taehyung stands, makes his way to the workbench, and drops the crowbar on it. He braces his hands against the bench as Namjoon steps up next to him. “Yoongi?”

“Pulled up hospital records, a death certificate, and foreclosure notices on the house,” Namjoon confirms Sunho’s story. “It all checks out.”

“Get the kids, take Sunho, and get them as far away from here as possible. We’ll clean up his debt and set him up with enough to get himself started again.” Taehyung nods at Namjoon, but stops him before he gets too far away. “You make sure he understands that he needs to get his shit together. And to call us if anything happens, we’ll move his family again if we have to. Go.”

Namjoon gestures Hoseok to follow his lead, untying Sunho and ushering him into one of the many SUVs in the garage. He slides into the driver’s seat as Hoseok jumps into the passenger side, and he backs out of the garage to start his orders.

“Think Cecil would know we’d look into Sunho and set up fake accounts?” Seokjin asks Taehyung, following him on their way out of the garage.

“Yoongi will catch it if anything is fake.” Taehyung undoes the top three buttons on his dress shirt. It’s late, he’s exhausted, and he just wants to climb into bed next to you as soon as possible.

“Do you think Cecil’s after Y/N herself, or just trying to get to the Seong brothers?” 

“We’ll be finding out soon.” Taehyung claps Seokjin on the shoulder before going his separate way. “And yes, Seokjin, it was important, so you can sleep peacefully knowing that you get to see tomorrow.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king size bed, crossword book out, and pencil scribbling across the empty spaces, when Taehyung comes back into the room. You want to say something, want to talk about what happened, but it wasn’t the first time the two of you had gotten a little too carried away. Well, more so you than him earlier when you’d begged for his touch, and then Seokjin had walked in. You’ve never, in your entire life, been more humiliated and turned on at the same time, and some part of your brain insists that it really wouldn’t have been bad if Seokjin hadn’t interrupted. You certainly wouldn’t have had to take a cold shower, that’s for sure.

“You’re still up,” Taehyung comments softly as if he hadn’t seen the light peeking out from underneath the door. He’d dismissed Jungkook before opening the door, expecting you to have simply fallen asleep while reading as usual. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders when his ears pick up the rustling of bedsheets. 

His back muscles flex with each move and you bite down on your tongue for composure. “You didn’t apologize to Kook for snapping at him earlier.”

“Jungkook understands that when he’s told to do something, he does it. If he wants to fight back against his orders and be a rebel, then he’s going to be treated as such.” Taehyung unclasps the watch on his wrist, setting it down on the dresser. “If sometimes I go too far, they don’t expect an apology.”

“Because you don’t know how to give one?” Your tone is sarcastic and it makes him smile even though you can’t see his face. “Or you just don’t want to?”

“Because I don’t need to.” His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling the leather band and sliding it out from the loops of his pants. “We’ve been a tight group for a long time, but I’m still their boss and sometimes I need to be more strict than usual. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t been strung up by his feet and left to bleed out for arguing with me earlier says a lot already.”

“I know,” you answer immediately, having seen that very scenario dozens of times before either by accident or because your grandfather wanted to remind you and your cousins of what happens to people that can no longer be trusted. “This is the only time Jungkook’s gone against you, Taehyung, you know that.”

Taehyung whirls around to face you, understanding and patience written all over his face. “I need to make sure that it stays the only time he’ll go against me. The only reason he isn’t dead now is because it was on your behalf, which is his job. Yes, it’s unfair of me to be pissed at him for doing exactly what he’s supposed to, but when you’re with me there’s nothing to be afraid of and he needs to understand that.”

“Something in you scared him today,” you argue as he turns back to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and plain gray t-shirt. “Something in you scared me. It’s like a switch went off inside of your head and you became an entirely different person.”

“I am who I need to be when the situation calls for it.” Taehyung steps up to the bed and braces one arm on the mattress as he leans closer, touching his forehead to yours. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess, that’s my fault and I’m sorry. I want to say you’ll never have to see it again, but you know as well as I do that it would be a lie. What I can tell you is that it won’t always happen, I swear that to you. Right now, with whatever Joongki and Jeonghan have going on, and the spike in threats against your family, the boys and I are on edge more than normal.” He cups your face with his other hand after dropping his spare clothes to the bed. “It won’t always be this way.”

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to have fallen into the Kim family, or what you did to deserve one of the rarer, kinder mafia bosses that is Kim Taehyung. You’ve come to realize that you don’t hate Taehyung or any of the boys, but you hate the circumstances behind your being in his home. You’ve always detested this life and after your grandfather’s death, you vowed to get away from it. You didn’t take into account how quick Joongki would jump to throw you under lock and key, only ever gifting the small amount of freedom that came with having to attend your full time job. 

Taehyung hadn’t expected your kiss, the soft press of your lips against his and the touch of your fingers wrapping around his wrist has goosebumps rising on his skin. You don’t kiss him often, only when you’re out at a charity event or at dinner with his parents, and even then it’s a small peck to keep up appearances. You push your tongue against his and he groans, slipping his fingers into your hair and stepping back as you rise up to your knees. The soft pads of your fingers trace up the path of his jawline until they tangle in his soft black locks, and then you’re tugging on the strands to tip his head back.

His other hand is at your hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shirt to rub circles in your skin. He doesn’t know what brought on this sudden affection, but he isn’t complaining. Your fingers card through his hair, one hand tracing down the broad plain of his chest and bare skin burning the tips of your fingers as they reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses out a small ‘fuck’ against your mouth when your hand slips into his boxers, toying with the length of him. Holy shit, he’s huge, and you moan into another kiss as you have a hard time wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s thick and long, you note, using the tips of your nails to gently trace the veins running along his shaft. Precum pools at the tip and you circle your thumb around him to gather enough of it before pumping your hand down, then back up, and then back down again. 

“What are you doing, princess?” Taehyung nearly chokes on the words as he pulls away from the kiss. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and he’s very near collapsing to his knees if you keep this up. He grits his teeth as the hand in his hair dives into his boxers to join the other, pumping along his cock in tandem. His fingers tighten in your hair, twisting the locks at the base of your neck and you gasp gently at the feeling. 

“Earlier, in the living room,” you whisper against his lips, “I was so close to coming against your thigh, but then Seokjin walked in.”

“To be fair,” he growls out and bucks his hips against your hands, “I threatened to kill him for it, so---.” He does choke this time as you squeeze him just a little harder.

“You know what happened when I came back to the room, Tae?” You give him a sweet smile, but you know he can see the devious intentions behind it. “I got stuck having to take a cold shower. I’d blame Jin, but you’re the one who started it, aren’t you?”

“Baby,” he groans, “please don’t---.”

You’re pulling back, taking your hands with you, and falling back onto the mattress before he can finish his plea. You bounce slightly against the bed as you giggle at the death glare he gives you, his chest is heaving and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. “Not so fun when it’s you, is it, Tae?”

Taehyung heaves out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I take responsibility for leaving you the way I did.” He snatches your ankles, chuckling at the yelp that leaves you, and drags you down the bed. He spreads your thighs to make room for his hips and rocks against you. The thin material of your pajama pants does nothing to shield the feeling of his hard on pushing against your clothed core. You still feel every inch of him and your mouth drops open as he grinds his hips. “But what you call punishment, I call a reward, princess.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, his laugh echoing from the bathroom, and you bolt up to hurl a pillow at the door. Why is he so much better at this than you are?!

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

Taehyung’s home is gorgeous. Well, you suppose it’s your home now too, but the fact that you’re about to be thrown into a house full of strange men and monitored 24 hours a day, doesn’t take away from its beauty. You thought the security gates were a little much when Jungkook first drove through them, yet it’s clear now why they’re necessary. A two story estate looms over you as Jungkook opens the SUV door so you can climb out. 

“Welcome home, princess.” Taehyung stands in the middle of the foyer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d had every intention of being with you in that SUV after the reception, but his father had hauled him away for some ‘unfinished business’ with the Ahn family. 

“More like a prison,” you mutter while Jungkook takes the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He hoists it over his own and grabs the handle of your rolling suitcase, waiting to see what your next move is. “The word ‘home’ doesn’t exactly come to mind, Kim.”

Taehyung hums, crossing the foyer in quick strides before he’s gripping your chin and pulling you so close that you stand on the tips of your toes. He feels the clenching of your jaw against his fingers and briefly worries that you’ll end up chipping a tooth with how hard you grind your teeth together. “Call it what you want, Y/N, but this is where you’ll be for a very long time. I suggest you get used to it.”

“Boss.” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes darting to the strong grip Taehyung has on your face before they’re matching his gaze. The slight tilting of his head serves as a warning and Taehyung nods in recognition before releasing his hold. When Jungkook had first been told that he would be your personal guard from now on, he vowed to do his best, even if it meant going against Taehyung from time to time. 

You sneer at Taehyung when he smiles at Jungkook. Whatever passes between them in the look they share is unclear, and it bothers you. If Taehyung’s rough handling was meant to scare you, and Jungkook’s swift response to it was meant to deter that fear, then they were both failing. Miserably. It’s not that you’re afraid of Taehyung, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how quick he can be at changing his entire persona in a matter of seconds. 

Jungkook puts his free hand on the small of your back to guide you forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. He watches you scan the surroundings, gaze lingering a little too long on the loose objects Taehyung has chosen to decorate with. He makes a mental note to have those removed for the time being until you’re settled in enough to not try and kill Taehyung. It’s understandable that you’re frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but it’s also easy for those feelings to boil over and turn into something disastrous. He leads you through the room to the adjoining dining room, then the kitchen, and finally stopping at a door. 

“It’s your room,” he explains as he opens the door and shuffles inside the much too big room meant for you. It’s bigger than the entirety of your last two apartments combined. He sets your backpack on the bed before rolling your suitcase over to the dresser in the corner of the room. Leaving the suitcase be for you to unpack at your leisure, he moves for the bathroom that you didn’t even notice was there at first. He comes out soon after and pulls open the doors to the walk-in closet, scanning it from top to bottom.

He’s checking for anything out of place, you realize, as Jungkook seems satisfied enough to make his way back to you. He isn’t anything like you imagined Taehyung’s men would be, the first couple of encounters with him should have been enough to tell you that. You had just been so adamant in hating this part of it to realize that Jungkook would most likely end up being your only friend. Your actual friends weren’t invited to the wedding out of fear of who may have been there. Exposing them to this life was never an option and you’d been doing a damn fine job of it since high school. Until Jeonghan had spilled the beans about your upcoming nuptials and the girls became giddy. Their faces had dropped when you lied that only a handful of people could attend, and they weren’t on the guest list. It took weeks of groveling for them to finally cave and forgive you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. He quirks a brow when you shake your head in apology. “Are you alright?”

“I was just thinking,” you say, letting your eyes float around the room once more. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

“Not just for checking the room,” you clarify, “but for not making me feel so out of place. I really appreciate it.”

“Jungkookie’s always been good at making people comfortable,” a voice has you spinning around quickly, a hand pressed to your racing heart. The owner of the voice beams like he’s just won the lottery, clearly amused at successfully scaring you. “Y/N. I’m Park Jimin. I’ll be accompanying you and Jungkook every time we leave the grounds.”

“Right,” you heave. Catching your breath seems to be a new level of difficulty for some reason. Well, there was one reason, actually.

Taehyung had been right behind you and Jungkook the entire time. Quietly observing you and the reaction you’d have to the house. He’d also been leaning against the doorjamb while Jungkook combed through the room. Which means he’d also heard your gratitude for the younger man and you pale at the thought of what might happen to Jungkook now. Not all bosses like when their wives become chummy with other men, especially if it’s a man they trust, and you fear you may have gotten Jungkook in trouble.

“Do you think of Jungkookie as comfortable, princess?” Taehyung pins you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. He sees the look of panic in your eyes as you struggle for words. When you open your mouth to answer, he cuts you off with a stern, “Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clenching your hands into fists. Fear runs down your spine when Taehyung pushes away from the door and draws near. You flinch when his hand reaches out, your body going stiff to brace for the sting of his palm against your cheek. But he doesn’t hit you, his hand frozen mid-air at your reaction. It’s when you feel the slight tug on a single strand of hair that you realize he’d meant to pet your head. You meet his eyes with tears welling in your own, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers, reaching out once more to graze the backs of his fingers against your cheek. The wet heat of a single tear sliding down your face catches on his knuckles and he grits his teeth. “Has anyone ever hit you before?”

Jungkook and Jimin immediately come closer to hear your answer. If anyone had ever laid a hand on you, they wouldn’t wait for Taehyung’s order to find and kill whoever it was. You aren’t just the boss’ wife, you’re theirs to protect now, and they intend on doing just that.

“No.” You turn away from Taehyung’s touch, drawing back to both create some much needed space, and to reel in the flood of emotions you didn’t expect to feel. Being a leader in a crime syndicate meant being vicious and violent, even to your own family if it proved a point. Taehyung was neither of those things, a heavy reminder of how gentle your father and grandfather would be with any woman or girl important to them. “No one’s ever...it’s just something I’ve seen many times before, is all.”

“To someone important?”

“To people who were people and deserved to be treated as such. Not like the punching bags they became because their boss couldn’t push aside his pride or ego.” You take another step back only to bump into Jungkook’s chest. Damn it. Too many people surround you, too many are witness to how easily you can crumble, and you want them out. You want room to breathe and catch your bearings. You also want the privacy to unpack your stuff.

“Out,” Taehyung demands from Jungkook and Jimin, neither men hesitate to do as they’ve been told. He moves for the door right after them, hesitating with his hand on the knob. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees you pulling a laptop from your backpack, along with a few romance novels and a jumbo book of crossword puzzles. 

“Jimin isn’t the only one of the members you’ll be meeting today,” the softness of Taehyung’s voice makes your chest tight as you look up at him. “There’s 3 others roaming around here somewhere and another that’s away on an assignment, but he’ll be back soon.”

You nod your understanding, picking up a book to occupy your hands to keep your fingers from picking at the cuticles of your nails. It was something you’d always done when you got nervous, a bad habit that needed to be gotten rid of.

“I don’t want to do this to you, princess,” he states it like an apology as you draw your brows together in confusion, “but I’m going to take your laptop and phone.”

“Why?” One hand immediately falls to the computer he’s stepping back into the room for. You almost wrestle it away when his long fingers swipe it from the bed. “It’s important, Taehyung. I use it to edit my friend’s photos. She’s a photographer and I help her clean them up when she needs it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He grips the computer closer to his side and holds his palm out. “You’ll get it back soon, I promise. I need your phone.”

“What if Joongki and Jeonghan call?” you scoff, because of fucking course Taehyung knows what you do in your spare time. “They’ll get worried if I don’t answer.”

“That’s a pretty weak excuse given how you tore into them after the reception. I might not have left with you, but I heard all about the way you swore you wouldn’t be speaking to your cousins anytime soon.”

“My friends will think I’m dead if I don’t answer their texts.”

“Your friends,” Taehyung steps closer and leans in, hovering inches away from your lips, “know that you got married today. They know that you’ll be occupied with your new husband. I can bet they’re wondering what you’re doing right this second, but can’t bring themselves to ask lest they interrupt what may be going on.”

Your back hits a wall you hadn’t realized he’d been backing you into. He’s not close enough to touch, yet that’s exactly what you want to do and find yourself pressing the book in your hand to his chest instead.

“I bet they’re wondering if you’re enjoying yourself,” he continues, pressing his forehead against yours. The back of your head thumps against the wall gently with the pressure as he uses it to keep your eyes on him. “They’re wondering if your new groom satisfies you enough, princess. If he’s kissing you like you deserve to be, touching you in all the right places,” his free hand clamps onto your waist, thumb dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin, “if he’s able to hit that right spot inside of you over, and over, and over.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slides higher beneath the t-shirt you’d stupidly changed into before coming to the house. His fingers are hot against your skin as they’re splayed along your ribcage.

“I can do all of that for you if you’ll let me, princess,” Taehyung growls without meaning to. He’d only meant to distract you enough to take your phone. However, he’d somehow managed to arouse both himself and you with the way you clench your thighs together. Still, even knowing how turned on you are, he doesn’t press any closer than he already is. His hand doesn’t move any further up your torso though his thumb still rubs smooth circles on your skin. “I can make you feel so good, you’d forget your own name.”

You inhale sharply. You know he can and that he’d be the best you ever had. But giving in now, on your very first hour inside the new house, would be grounds for Taehyung to think you’re actually on board with this whole thing. So you do what you do best, argue. “You really think so highly of yourself, huh, Kim? I’m pretty sure I’ve had better.”

“Don’t push buttons when you don’t understand the consequences,” he whispers darkly, “or throw out empty challenges like that. I might be inclined to take them if you keep it up.”

You open your mouth to fight back, but a yelp comes out instead when his hand rips itself from underneath your shirt and is swiping the phone from your back pocket quickly. You aren’t prepared for him to reel back soon after, nearly losing your balance without him there to hold you up. “Taehyung, what the hell?!”

Taehyung smirks in victory, the phone and laptop in his hands, before he turns around and saunters to the door. “Disappointed, baby? All you have to do is ask and I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

Jungkook and Jimin are standing just outside, backs pressed to the opposite wall, and they both jump when the sound of glass shattering against wood follows Taehyung closing the door behind him. Jungkook wants to check on you, but the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face lets him know that you meant to break whatever had hit the door. “Uh, boss?”

Taehyung hands the laptop and phone to Jimin, who was looking at him with raised brows. “Give these to Yoongi, tell him to go through them, delete anything that can be used to track either device, and have him install the tracking app he created in her phone. I want us, and only us, to be able to access the app. If, for whatever reason, Yoongi feels like someone outside of the seven of us should be able to tap into it, I want to know who and why first. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin disappears with the phone and computer, leaving behind a chuckle that has Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and Kook,” Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder with a mischievous grin, “buy Y/N a new perfume bottle. She seems to have broken her last one.”

[sukipershipper]

Major Circuit time?

MAJOR CIRCUIT TIME!!

This time take some Dads, Daichi Kondo, Dale Morin and Pedro Muñoz-Romerro. Tiger's dad isn't here because he and his wife both fucked off when Tiger got his magic.

Have some more about them and their kiddos under the cut!

Daichi and Hondo:

Daichi is a highly acclaimed teacher in Japan and runs a successful dojo as well as a Sushi Bar which gives to the people on the streets of Japan.

He was a very strict parent when Hondo first arrived on the scene (as I mentioned in my previous mention of him), but he eased up once Hondo took on boxing

He never really liked it or understood it until his son showed genuine interest in the sport and was happy with the people he met in the industry

He's still a bit strict but ultimately loves his son and wants to do good by him.

He's a weeb, and is definitely where Hondo got his love of it from. However, he's not as big of one as Hondo is (no one ever will be)

Hondo was a semi innocent child growing up. Definitely polite but Daichi was definitely convinced he committed some Arson in his younger years.

Like...come on, he did. (DAD LOOK! THERES A TREE ON FIRE!/.....son we need to talk-)

Dale and Hugger:

A Single dad just trying to survive in the woods and raise his two trouble making twins. Not an easy task but Dale isn't one to complain.

Will gladly take on any workload and never stop till the job is done. Dale used to be mountie but eventually retired to look after his kiddos and instead helps a bunch of rangers at a rescue center in Salmon Arm.

Still keeps his horse from his mountie days though. His name is Stefan, and he usually just grazes out front.

Didn't really get boxing and just thought it was an outlet of violence for his son so he disapproved of it. A year later he would be cheering his son on from home going "BEAT THOSE HOSERS!"

Taught both his children how to nurture and care for the wildlife and the plants of their home

Hugger as a kid was constantly having to be watched by his dad to make sure he didn't run off and try and pet a wild animal...Lotta good that did him.

Though he did actually save animals as well as a kid, which probably got Dale into even more trouble with other families.

Dale and Tiger:

Dale's fatherly love also extended to Tiger, who's parents left when he was 17 and learning magic to help earn money.

He met Tiger after going to see Huggers matches live and all it took was for Tiger to mention his parents left him for Dale to go: yep you're mine now

Tiger is very much grateful for the love Dale gives to him and his siblings. He didn't have very fond memories of his parents so he was nice to be with a family that was actually loving, if a bit small, but that didn't matter

Tiger as a child was very patient and hard working. He always had his head set on straight and driven towards a goal. It sort of changed once he got his magic but you get glimpses of it every now and again.

In his current age, he wonders why younger him was such a damn stickler

Tiger became a surrogate parent for his two younger siblings and he loves them dearly. All his prize money goes to them to support them through school.

Dale always invites Tiger to their family dinners when he and Hugger don't have matches on.

Pedro and Don:

Pedro was and still is a very skilled Matador, well known around town for his speed and his charm. His dream was to hopefully pass this onto his children.

Though all 3 of this Eldest sons took on the role, Don was recognized in his eyes to have the most potential. So Pedro tried his best to get him being the 'best'.

Imagine the shock and horror in his eyes when Don said he wanted to take on boxing alongside it.

Pedro kinda...disowned Don when that happened and the two sorta drifted away. It took until Don lost his championship title to Mac for Pedro to finally come around and accept him again. Even helping him regain his passion and train

He loves his son, he's just a strict asshole and struggles showing it. But you know he does when he's willing to jump the ring and throw a shoe at Aran because "HES USING A FLAIL, PENDEJOS!?"

Don was definitely a pressured child. He always got good grades, always performed well, dressed well, danced well, was given the best. A lot of pressure on his shoulders, it's why when the opportunity was thrown at him to take up boxing he jumped to it immediately.

Pedro is the reason Don has an early receeding hairline. Don resents him greatly for it

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

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

“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

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

“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

��Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

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

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

[jmoriarty-221b]

Ok so this idea was inspired by AUs where Tim Drake is a member of the Addams family and thus this cute idea was born

Ok so, Tim’s parents still travel a lot but instead of leaving him alone in a big empty manor they leave him with his aunt and uncle Morticia and Gomez Addams

And Tim is a weird little kid who grows up without fear of the dark figures at night because the boogeyman is actually a pretty nice fellow who was very touched when Tiny Tim gave them a drawing of themselves, the monster in the closet actually gives great fashion advice as well as providing the perfect clothes for playing dress up, and the monsters under his bed are great storytellers and the shadow man gives Tim great advice on how to hide and use shadows to his advantage, etc.

The point is that Timmy grows up under the care of the Addams when his parents have to leave on long business trips or excavation sites and as such, is exposed to Gomez’s great appreciation of swordsmanship and fencing, and the haunted suits of armors are always great at comparing which kind of swords are the best in which kind of combat as well as the the importance of craftsmanship when in relation to having a reliable sword

And then one day Timmy watches the movie ‘The Legend of Zorro’ and becomes absolutely obsessed with learning how to use a sword and fight with it in the way only little kids can become obsessed with something they find completely cool, and Gomez is so excited to be teaching Tim everything he knows and they work together to craft Timmy his very own mini rapier for learning how to fence (swords are heavier so Tim learns those from Gomez when he’s older and can parry more weight)

And Tim becomes very Focused and Serious on learning how to fence and he’s very excited when he manages to finally best his uncle in a fencing duel (not as excited as Gomez tho, “MY CHILD SHALL BECOME THE BEST SWORDSMAN YET MY LOVE, DID YOU SEE HIS TECHNIQUE, HAD I BEEN SLOWER HE WOULD’VE RIPPED OPEN MY THROAT IN ONE SWIPE, I’M SO PROUD” “Our child dear”)

And then the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ comes out and both Tim and Gomez are super fans (as a whole the family’s favorite movies are this one as well as the Legend of Zorro because 1. Revenge is achieved to the improvement of the main character’s well being and 2. The Aesthetic) and Tim just focuses on getting the hang of swords now with Gomez being more than happy to help his darling nephew

So years pass and Tim’s parents have finished one of their most taxing excavation digs so they return to Gotham and Tim has to return too (for the purposes of this AU Janet and Jack actually do give a fuck about their son so they would call him every other night when they’re away and if they can’t then at the very least they would call Tim once a week; they also call Morticia and Gomez at least once a week to check on how Tim is doing and they were also very happy to know that Tim has taken a liking to swords so they try to bring new types of weapons or literature related to weapons from the culture of their latest excavation so Tim can learn how different types of swords are wielded all around the world)

But anyway, Tim is going back to Gotham so he and Gomez work on creating a new sword for him with the family motto carved on the blade “Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” which translates to “We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us” which is metal as fuck so yeah, and this sword is super durable and strong, inspired by a katana’s durability and a rapier’s gracefulness with a blade that is such a dark purple that it looks black like obsidian and the inscription of the family motto is carved in letters that are ruby red with a black hilt where an image of a drake is engraved in the same ruby red as the family motto (basically it is a Very Deadly Sword that is also Very Pretty with a dark aesthetic)

So Tim gets back to Gotham and one day he’s watching the news and sees The Batman saving the day and what not and sees Robin do a quadruple back flip and figures out their identities and decides that he wants to meet them at some point while on his nightly photography sessions of Gotham architecture; and if he manages to snap a couple of shots of Gotham’s heroes sometimes then that’s a bonus but Tim is mostly focused on capturing the essence of Gotham city (at this point in time when Tim moves back to Gotham he physically looks like 10-12 year old; he did meet Dick at the circus when he looked like he was 4 years old but for the purposes of the timeline Tim, as an Addams, can choose to remain at any age he desires for as long as he wants so while he did appear to be 4 years old at the circus, he had been alive for a couple of years more at this point, this also explains how he can master swords and fencing while physically looking like a 10 year old because he has been practicing for years as well as why he remembers Dick from that night at the circus)

So the timeline continues with Tim figuring out that the Bats are actually his neighbors but instead of staying away from the Waynes, he decides to go ask his parents if he can stay with the neighbors whenever they have to stay later than usual at the company or have to take a short business travel and they talk with Bruce about it and he agrees to take care of Tim, so now Tim has an in to befriend the Waynes and helps smooth out the edges of Dick and Bruce’s relationship so Bruce doesn’t fire Dick from Robin, but rather they talk about their feelings for once and Dick decides he wants to create his own superhero identity and Bruce supports his decision (Tim may or may not have had to talk about how his family happened to be very open about their feelings and worry for one another and how much closer they are due to talking to each other and resolving conflict; Alfred may or may not have been 100% behind Tim every time he made such a conversation) also, Tim is basically a trial run for Dick on becoming a big brother for when Jason arrives

One time Tim asks Dick if he knows how to fence which Dick can’t really answer because technically he knows how to fight with a sword but that’s for vigilante purposes which his civilian self isn’t supposed to know so Dick says that he doesn’t and asks Tim why he wanted to know, Tim proceeds to talk about how his favorite masked hero uses a sword to fight injustice and he has a black cape and a black horse and Bruce comes into the living room they’re in in the middle of Tim’s rambling about his favorite hero using a sword and is Concerned for a hot minute until Tim finishes the rant by saying “. . . and that’s why I like his movie so much, have you seen the Legend of Zorro?” (Cue relief for both Dick and Bruce because for all that they scrambled to put a name to the hero Tim was describing they couldn’t come up with one and were considering the possibility of a new player in the vigilante scene) so then Tim asks Mr. Bruce if he knows how to fence and Bruce says yes and asks if Tim would like to learn cue the “Oh, my uncle taught me how to fence a few years ago and when I lived with them we had a duel at least once a week, it was very fun so I was just wondering if you knew so we could practice if you want to Mr. Bruce”

Dick is 100% on board with this because the idea of Tiny Tim and 6’1” Bruce fencing is hilarious in his mind, Alfred is there to supervise and both Tim and Bruce are provided with the appropriate fencing equipment and protection; Bruce starts off slow and is surprised when Tim manages to beat him before starting to enjoy fencing with someone who can surprisingly keep up with him (Dick is taking pictures because the height difference is just too cute to be ignored and Tiny Tim is adorable in his own mini fencing equipment)

Whenever his parents do have to leave for extended periods of time (any company trip that takes more than 3-5 days qualifies as this) Tim stays with his aunt and uncle, thus starting a fun tradition of having spontaneous fencing duels with his uncle Gomez, basically if one of them is in the library then the other will shout ‘En-garde’ while throwing a sabre towards the other person and engaging in a quick duel; basically, if Tim is reading about the latest poisonous plants produced by Poison Ivy and annotating his research in order to get an idea of what would be a nice gift for his aunt Morticia and Gomez walks into the library then Gomez will grab two of the sabres they have on the wall for this exact purpose while shouting ‘en-garde’ before throwing a sabre at Tim and engaging in a duel, same goes for Tim, it’s almost instinct to the point that Tim has to hold himself back from doing exactly this whenever he sees Bruce in the library of Wayne Manor

Later on, when Jason is already adopted into the Wayne family, Tim still comes over and makes it his sacred mission to teach Jason the art of swords so he has another fencing buddy because “Mr. Bruce isn’t always here and I have decided that we will be friends and you’re pretty cool but knowing how to fight with a sword just ups your coolness level ya know?” So now Jason has smol Tim teaching him how to fence and it’s pretty fun to be able to do a taxing physical activity outside of being Robin with a friend, when Jason gets the hang of fencing Tim decides that he must now advance to the next level: sword fighting (Alfred is always there to supervise and give tips and pointers because he also knows how to fence but chooses to stay in the sidelines and let the young masters have their fun)

The problem with this is that, while the Waynes do have sabres for fencing, they don’t have swords, at least not in their civilian selves, so Tim decides to bring his own swords to teach Jason how to sword fight, Alfred is the first to see Tim’s very own special sword and is both impressed at the craftsmanship and concerned as to why a child has a sword, Jason thinks Tim’s sword is the coolest he has ever seen and Tim is happy to talk about how he made it himself with his uncle’s help when he finally learned all about sword fighting and promises Jason that they can make him his own cool sword when he learns how to sword fight too, Dick also thinks that the sword is a little concerning for a kid to have but he also wants his own cool sword and so now he insists Bruce has to teach him how to sword fight because Tim said he’s not allowed to have his own sword until he learns how to sword fight, Bruce is baffled as to why Tim has a sword, impressed at Tim’s skills in craftsmanship, and a little Concerned as to why Tim’s sword has that Latin inscription on the blade (no Tim, knowing that “we feast in those who would subdue us” is your family motto doesn’t calm me down yet it explains a lot about your mother)

By the time Damian comes along to the family he is very interested in where Jason and Dick got their Very Cool swords from, his father also has one and he wants to have his own Very Cool Sword too, thank you very much, and Tim visits them when Damian is still settling in and asks his customary question of if he knows how to use fence and gets an affirmative answer he asks Bruce if it would be ok for him and Damian to have a fencing duel, Bruce explains the rules to Damian and makes sure that Alfred, Dick, Jason and him are present in order to keep Damian from maiming/killing Tim

The duel does get a little out of hand as Damian gauges that Tim is more skilled than he previously thought so he stops holding back, Tim is positively grinning at this since he always has to hold back with the Waynes in a way that he doesn’t with Uncle Gomez because while an Addams won’t die from a stab to the heart, the same can’t be said for anyone else; the duel ends with Tim winning because he has more experience than Damian but he is positive beaming at how awesome Damian was and how these duels could become a weekly thing before they transition to swords and once Dames graduates from swords he can design his very own sword with Tim’s help as a sort of graduation present for learning how to sword fight and he’s sure that it won’t take too long for Damian to master swordsmanship because he’s basically a natural already and very skilled and this duel was so much fun Damian we have to do this again sometime oh my gosh I want to teach you everything I know it’s gonna be so much fun

And Damian, a poor baby, was mad at having lost to Tim but then Tim hits him with all this excitement and smiles and it’s the promise of getting his own Very Cool Sword is what gets him to agree to learn from Tim, it’s not that he feels warm at getting compliments from someone who also likes swords and knows what he’s doing in a fight, he definitely doesn’t find Tim cool at all, he’s just making use of a resource and he will learn everything Tim has to offer and become better than both Grayson and Todd, that’s all (that’s not all because it turns out that Damian is the younger brother Tim never had and he takes Dami under his wing and helps him adjust to a life outside the League of Assassins and how to find hobbies to enjoy; Damian won’t admit it but he is also Very Attached in to Timothy and feels like he won’t be judged for his past with him and he is also a fellow sword enthusiast so yeah)

Tim decides to do the same thing to Damian and initiating a quick fencing duel whenever he sees that Damian is in the gardens (no fencing inside the Manor on pain of Alfred’s eyebrow of disappointment); this helps Damian with the transition of learning to have fun and also learn to realize that not everybody is an enemy, it also helps keep up his training and burn some energy whenever he gets restless and helps him bond with Tim more

The idea was that Tim and Uncle Gomez would surprise each other with spontaneous fencing duels by shouting ‘en-garde’ at the other person whenever they find one another in the library, and now it turned into a fluff AU where Tim isn’t Robin but he’s still a family friend to the Waynes and an Addams and helps bring the family closer through his love of swords because yes

[wardenannie]

A very, very angsty one-shot. Warning for pregnancy loss. Crossposted on my Ao3.

-

Clouds of noxious smoke filled up the crystal cavern, wall to wall. It was only as Levi soared above it, over it with the vigilance of a hunting hawk, that he watched as the hook buried itself in Hange’s left shoulder. Time seemed to slow before his eyes, and that infernal shot was followed by three resounding bangs, each louder than the last in his ears. bang. Bang. BANG. 

The bullets were cloaked in sprays of red as they impacted Hange’s falling form. The hook unlatched and the assailant retreated in a burst of steam, but Levi’s eyes never strayed from the squad leader. 

“Hange!” More than one of the kids shouted her name in distress as the cavern began to shake. 

She struck a pillar, body limp, then slid down its faceted surface, leaving a trail of dark crimson in her wake. One of her hands cupped her bleeding middle, blood welling between her paling fingers. 

Levi cursed, dropping down to her side. The others were already crowding around, chips of glittering crystal were beginning to rain down from the cavern’s high ceiling. 

“Hange?” There was so much blood. It pooled around her, seeping out of her middle and between her legs. Her eyes were half open, aware but glassy. It looked like one shot had struck her sternum, another just beneath her breasts, and the last had lodged itself in her lower abdomen. 

“You-

She coughed, blood spattering from her lips. 

“You need to get... get out of here,” her fingers worked weakly against the smooth floor, body tensing like she meant to sit up. “I can’t... just leave me.”

Levi shook his head, pressing a gentle hand into her good shoulder, “Fuck that. Stay down. Moblit, Armin, can you carry her? She needs medical attention, now.” 

The men in question rushed to scoop her up, suspending her between their bodies. She winced and sighed, breath coming out in stuttering gasps. 

Levi watched them retreat, biting back a torrent of emotion as Hange’s toes dragged trails of blood into the floor. She was close to death, that was obvious. Three pellets of lead had lodged themselves into her insides and torn her body asunder. 

Hange Zoe. 

His Hange. 

The Captain’s heart was in his throat, hands shaking. He wanted to hit his knees and scream and beg whatever powers loomed above to spare her. He’d already lost so much. Levi felt as though his heart were being rendered in two. He would gladly have taken those shots for her, if it were possible, to spare her the pain and fear that accompanied death. 

Just the night before she had been so lively, excited for the coming battle. Sweaty over him, moaning under him. Kissing him. Whispering his name in mantra, like a prayer. 

Now he wasn’t certain that they would ever make love again, and he couldn’t even be at her side as she faded. 

It was Jean who broke him from his trance, “Your orders, Captain?” 

Levi shook his head, eyes still stinging, but no tears were shed. He steeled himself, braced himself for the ultimate loss of another friend, a companion, his secret lover. He was a wounded man, but also he was a soldier, and he had a duty to uphold. 

Anything for the greater good. Everything. 

When he spoke, motioning with his blade towards an opening in the crystal, his voice was low, dangerous, deadly and dripping with venom, “We kill Rod Reiss.”

Someone had to pay for what had happened to Hange. The true king of the accursed Walls would do nicely.

-

Rod Reiss was dead and Hange was alive. 

Upon his return from Orvud, that was all he knew of her condition. Alive. Badly injured, he knew. But gracefully alive. 

Levi wasted no time in stabling his horse and rushing through the neatly laid halls of HQ towards the infirmary. Perhaps he was being too obvious, perhaps the kids would catch on to his attachment, but he didn’t care. Hange was all that mattered, he cared about nothing else in that moment. 

They were keeping her in a private room, a benefit of her rank. Levi had no intention to leave her side for any longer than it took him to bathe. 

When he arrived he found Erwin had beaten him there. The man stood in a shaft of golden sunlight, it caught in his blond hair and brightened his icy eyes, which were paradoxically grim. Dust motes danced around him. Beside him stood redheaded woman in white nurses garb. Her lips were pursed, and when she spotted Levi in the doorway her expression darkened. 

Ignoring them entirely, Levi rushed to the side of the bed where Hange lay on top of the linens. She was naked from the waist up, but her entire upper body was bound in fresh bandages. There was a cool rag laid over her forehead and eyes. Relief flooded Levi’s chest and pooled in his gut. He knelt beside the bed, grateful for her peaceful expression and the steady rise of her chest. 

“Has she woken up yet?” Levi asked, gaze unwavering. He took her hand in his, not caring that the Commander was watching over his shoulder. 

“No,” The nurse answered. Then she cleared her throat, “Mr. Ackerman, there are some complications we need to discuss.” 

Levi’s thumb stroked over the backs of Hange’s knuckles. His brow furrowed and he scowled, forced to look away from his lover and at the nurse, “What?” 

His irritability seemed to surprise the woman, who took a step back. Levi’s reputation had clearly preceded him. 

Erwin laid a hand on her shoulder smiling sadly, “It’s okay, Nyla. I’ll take care of things here.” 

“But Commander it’s standard procedure that I inform-

“Shhh,” he shushed her delicately. “Dismissed. Take the rest of the day off.” 

She pursed her lips, but didn’t argue any further, retreating from the room on light feet. 

“What’s going on, Erwin?” Levi demanded, “You were both acting like someone shit the bed.” 

“Succinctly put,” the Commander answered, dryly. Then his expression darkened, and he continued. “I’ve known about the relationship the two of you share for some time now.” 

Levi paled, “Shit.” 

Erwin sighed, “Though I believe relationships between comrades are ill-advised, I’m not going to stop you.” 

“How did you figure it out?” 

His thick eyebrows shot up near to his hairline, amused, “Hange isn’t particularly quiet in bed. One stroll by her quarters was all it took.” 

Levi rolled his eyes, squeezing Hange’s fingers in his. Of course it was her fucking sex moans that gave them away, “I always tell her to keep it down.” 

Erwin cleared his throat, “That’s besides the point, though. I’m only informing you that I know as preamble for what I’m about to say. Levi, please sit on the bed. This is going to be quite the shock.” 

Feeling suddenly cold, Levi obeyed without a word. He still held on to Hange’s hand, her touch anchoring him to reality even from sleep. 

“When Hange arrived here she had already been stabilized, save for profuse bleeding from the vagina. They managed to dig out the bullet that had perforated her uterus, but the bleeding continued for some time.” 

“But she’s okay now, right?” Levi glanced back at her, down her lean body and between her thighs. She was wearing simple grey pants. They were unstained by blood. 

“She was pregnant, Levi,” Erwin stated, his voice was even and his eyes were emotionless. “They believe she was between three and four months along. The baby was killed when she was shot.” 

Levi went rigid, hands beginning to shake in his lap. His slate eyes widened and he looked up to Erwin with pure confusion and blended agony swirling in his eyes. 

“That’s not... that’s not possible,” his voice shook, his heart thundered in his aching chest. She had taken a contraceptive tea... Him? A father? 

Erwin pursed his mouth, extending a hand to rest on Levi’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Captain.” 

Levi dropped his head into his hands, closing his eyes tight. It hurt. God help help him it hurt so badly. Every inch of him ached. They gave up so much for this life, and they did so willingly, happily even, but this was simply too much. A baby. Hange had been carrying a baby. Their baby. A baby that they had made together. 

“I need,” real, tangible tears stung at the corners of Levi’s eyes. “I need a moment, Commander.” 

Erwin nodded his head and left the room without another word, shutting the door carefully behind him. 

Finally alone, Levi turned to Hange where she lay unconscious. Her breath was even, chest rising in steady intervals, blissfully unaware of what they had lost. There was no way she had known, she would have told him immediately if she had even suspected she was pregnant. 

Levi cried silently, staring at her peaceful face. The tears were hot against his skin, and no matter how he tried he simply couldn’t stem their flow. 

He’d had a chance at a family, a life beyond the Survey Corps, beyond all of the violence and carnage and death. A fleeting, beautiful chance. And now it was gone, cruelly ripped from his hands on the floor of that damned crystal cavern. 

He looked out the window, at the sky which had once awed him as a boy from the Underground. Now the blue seemed dull, the sun dim. 

Nothing good ever seemed to stay. 

Nothing save for Hange, who still breathed peacefully beside him. He pulled a chair up beside the bed, content to wait at her side until she opened her wine-colored eyes again.

- 

It was two more days before Hange stirred, and when she did it was well past midnight. On the wall the steady ticking of a clock had lulled Levi into an uneasy sleep in his chair. Moonlight was the only thing illuminating the little infirmary room, splashing through the windowpane in long, silvery shafts. A vase of fresh picked wildflowers was sitting on the bedside table, courtesy of the 104th. 

Hange shifted on top of her sheets, shivering slightly in the cool air. Even that tiny reflex pained her, and she made a small discontented noise that awoke Levi with a start. 

“Levi?” She exhaled painfully, wincing as her shoulder pulled when she turned her head to face him. Her eyes brightened at the sight of him, ruffled and half asleep beside her. She smiled at him, “Levi, guess what?” 

Levi leaned forward, hand reaching instinctively to touch her cheek before dropping to settle over her own hand, “What, four-eyes?” 

“I’m not dead,” she wheezed out a laugh, which quickly morphed into a moan of pain. 

“No joking around right now,” Levi scolded softly, standing to help cover her with a blanket. “You need to rest.” 

Hange’s smile fell as she watched him unfold the blanket then drape it over her body, “Somethings wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Levi lied, unable to meet her eyes. 

“Don’t lie to me, little man. I can read you like a book.”

Levi settled back into his chair, “I’ll tell you later, alright? Get some sleep.” 

“No,” she would have crossed her arms if she weren’t full of bullet holes. “Tell me now, Levi. Your eyes are a little swollen, you never cry. And you’ve got dark circles. Something bad happened. Tell me now... oh my God, are the kids alright?” 

She actually started like she might sit up, frenzied by the thought. Levi rushed to ease her back down onto the pillows. 

“Easy four-eyes. The kids are fine, I promise,” he soothed. He took her hand again, stroking her knuckles. 

“Then what’s wrong?”

Levi bowed his head, watery eyes obscured by his hair. His very soul ached as he whispered the words, “I love you, Hange.” 

She went very still under his touch. They had never said those words to one another before, each afraid it would make what they had too real, too painful were one of them to die. But it was obvious to Levi now that their apprehension had never mattered. 

“Levi...” 

“You were pregnant,” he choked. “You miscarried when you were shot. Three to four months along, they said.” 

Tears were streaming down his cheeks again, glimmering with a beauty that belied their source. His insides were a tangled mass of barbed wire, blood, and pure, unadulterated sadness. Everything hurt.  

Hange was quiet for a while, hands folded neatly over her middle, eyes trained on the ceiling. 

When she finally spoke her voice was so soft, so low that Levi could barely make out the words, “I should have known. All the signs were there but I ignored them as stress. Oh God, Levi. I should have known.” 

Levi leaned onto the bed, “You can’t blame yourself for this.” 

“Can’t I?” Wincing, she raised a hand to touch her forehead, “I went into battle pregnant, I allowed myself to be cornered and shot, pregnant. How did I miss this? How? I killed our baby.” 

“No.” Levi said, fiercely, “Kenny and his damned fiends killed our baby. Rod fucking Reiss killed our baby. They’re all dead now. I made sure of that.”

Tears were brimming in her eyes now, and Levi couldn’t help but touch her cheek.

“We needed you there, Hange,” he said, softly. “We’re soldiers. We have a duty to the people of the walls, no matter what.” 

The last three words were painful to say, but it was true. Their duty came above all else.

Hange cried softly for a while. Levi held her hand, crying silently with her. He touched her face, her hair, her hands. Eventually he leaned forward to kiss her gently on the mouth. She tasted of salt and blood, and she cupped the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. 

When they parted, he whispered into the narrow space between their lips, “If you had died-

His voice cracked, then. And he realized for the first time in two days that he really, truly still had Hange. As long as she was breathing at his side, everything would be okay. 

“Don’t think about that,” she breathed, and kissed him again. “We already lost so much.” 

Hange scooted over to the left side of the bed, patting the right with her hand, “Come here.” 

Wordlessly Levi joined her on the bed. The flow of his tears was beginning to stem. He savored the heat of Hange’s body next to his, and when he rested his head on her good shoulder he could hear the steady beat of her heart. His hand ventured delicately down the taut line of her stomach, settling reverently over her abdomen, right above where the baby had been. 

Hange laid a hand over his, sniffing, “Do you think... I mean, someday this will all have to end, right? Eventually?”

Levi kissed her neck, “Eventually.” 

“We can try again,” she promised, voice ragged, fingers combing through his hair. “When this is over, we’ll try.” 

Levi hummed into her skin, inhaling the scent of her, feeling her alive beneath his touch. 

“Levi?” Her voice was clearer now, tears slowing. Her fingers were rubbing circles on his knuckles over her abdomen. 

“Hmm?” 

“I love you, too.” 

[random-tinies]

The Quest For Blue

Some light-hearted Hurt No Comfort for a tiny Ghostbur as he searches for blue to give to his family. ^^ 2.1k words

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The day is like any other in Ghostbur’s ghostly life. The sun is shining, the sea breeze blows through Friend’s blue wool, and he’s hanging out with Tommy in front of his tnret. The tiny ghost flops on his pet sheep and points to the left. “Let’s go say hi to Tommy, Friend!”

Friend baas and trots over to the dirty crime boy. Ghostbur floats up and sits on his younger brother’s shoulder, floating a few millimeters above his clothing. “Hello, Tommy! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Tommy walks into his tnret and gives Ghostbur a strange look as if the small ghost had grown antlers. Ghostbur feels his head to make sure he didn’t. “No it’s not. It’s raining out.”

“What?”

Ghostbur looks back outside the tnret and sure enough, rain is pouring down on the small island. Lightning flashes and thunder rolls over the trio, sounding as if the sky was falling down. The small spector gasps and floats at the entrance. “Friend! Friend, come here! Don’t get wet! I won’t be able to hug you then!”

The docile sheep walks under the wool shelter and starts chewing on Tommy’s torn shirt. Ghostbur opens his mouth to scold his dearest sheep, but Tommy lets out a heavy sounding sigh that stirs a sour emotion in Ghostbur’s soul. He floats back up to him and asks, “What’s wrong, Tommy?”

His brother’s voice sounds about as gloomy as the sudden turn in weather outside. “I’ve done a lot of bad, Ghostbur. I’ve hurt a lot of people. I am alone. I have no friends.”

Ghostbur huffs and folds his arms. Are they not friends? Does Ghostbur not do his best to cheer Tommy up every day? “Well at least you have me! I’m your friend, Tommy!”

Tommy merely sighs and turns away. “I’ve hurt you, too, Ghostbur. You’re stuck here because of me.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “I chose to be here, Tommy! Lads on Tour, remember?”

Tommy lays on his bedroll and doesn’t respond. Ghostbur takes out some blue dye and sets it next to him. “Here, have some blue.”

The tall child closes his eyes, a quiet pained expression on his face. The ghostly tiny turns to his giant sheep and says, “This may take more blue than I thought. We’ll have to go out and find some!” He looks outside. “Oh, but the rain…”

“Baa!”

“Oh! You’re right, Friend!” Ghostbur beams at the blue sheep. “I can just walk under you!”

And so, the two set off through the rain, heading into an oak and birch forest that soon turns into a spruce forest with snow covering the ground. Ghostbur notices the snow drifts getting deeper and deeper until he’s forced to fly out from under Friend, who baas at him in protest to the cold snow, or risk melting in the ground. “I’m sorry, Friend! I was sure I was going the right way but we haven’t seen anything but red poppies here…”

A shadow falls over the duo and Ghostbur looks up. A large dark grey wing is extended above them and a tall, dark figure towers over them. A veil hangs off of his large green and white hat, hiding his face, and a dark grey and green robe falls off his shoulders. One wing is wrapped in bandages. Ghostbur smiles at the taller gentleman. “Hello, Phil!”

“Wil, what are you doing all the way out here in the snow? You’ll melt.” Although he can’t see his face, Phil’s voice is soft, interlaced with worry.

Ghostbur cheerfully answers him. “I’m getting blue for Tommy! Do you have any that I can use?”

A few tears drip down to the ground from under the veil. “All of the blue you gave me was used up, remember? I miss Wilbur.”

Ghostbur frowns, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. “You sound like you could use more blue. I’ll make sure to stop by here on my way back and give you some when I find it!”

Philza doesn’t react to what he says. “Why are you all the way out here in the middle of a snow storm? Are you lost?”

Ghostbur shakes his head, then pauses and scratches the back of his neck, sitting atop Friend’s head. “We were trying to get back to L’manburg. I know I have some blue in my chests there!”

Philza shakes his head, the wind blowing the snow around them in a blindingly white swirl for just a second. “Oh, Ghostbur… L’Manburg is gone. It was blown up.”

A pit of dread forms in the tiny’s soul. His brows knit together and he looks at Philza in horrified confusion, denial already forming a wall in his mind. “What?”

The giant birdman points with an ominous finger ahead of them. “If you’d like to reach L’Manburg, go through that portal. The snow storm is picking up. You don’t want to be caught in it.”

Ghostbur blinks and looks ahead at the previously empty forest path. Sure enough, a Nether portal stands tall, the brilliant purple shine cutting through the snow with ease. “Oh, you’re right! Philza, would you- Oh!”

A gust of wind comes again and Ghostbur shuts his eyes and nestles into Friend’s wool to avoid the worst of the snow. When he looks up again, his father is gone, vanished into the strange pine forest. “Oh… Well, I suppose we’d better head into the Nether if we want to get that blue, Friend. Off we go!”

Friend trudges through the snow drifts and steps through the portal into the blistering heat of the Nether dimension. It’s oddly silent, no piglin sounds or ghast blasts to greet them on the other side. Just the ominous vwooping sound of the portal behind them as they step onto the warm netherack.

Ghostbur takes a shaky breath, gripping Friend’s wool in his hands. The sheep headbutts him lightly. He pushes back with a laugh. “Yes, yes, I know. Just a short walk, right? We won’t be here long enough for something bad to happen.”

And with that, the two set off into the Nether. Friend’s ears flick from time to time as they traverse the dry area. After a while, the scenery starts looking the same. He swears they’ve passed the same lava pit at least three times now. This trip is turning out to be much longer than he thought.

The silence is strangely deafening. The glow of the lava is harsh and Friend’s wool is gaining a reddish hue from brushing against the netherack. Ghostbur takes out some blue dye and reapplies it to the sheep’s wool with a sigh. “I think we may be lost. I don’t know who we’re going to ask for help, though! There’s nobody around for chunks…”

A gruff voice and footsteps surprise the duo. A large shadow looms over them. “Ghostbur? What are you doing here? It’s dangerous in the Nether.”

The spector smiles as he turns around and zooms up to greet his brother’s seemingly bored face. “Technoblade! What luck that you found us! Me and Friend were trying to find the portal to L’Manburg so I can get some blue for Tommy!”

He hugs the piglin hybrid’s snout and floats a ways in front of him. Technoblade sighs and gives Ghostbur a gentle pat on the head, hand phasing through the tiny ghost slightly. He starts to walk in the direction Ghostbur and Friend were heading. “They don’t call me the human GPS for nothing. I’ll show you the way.”

The suffocating atmosphere of the hellish dimension eases up on Ghostbur as he and Friend trot after him. He gladly starts babbling away to his estranged brother. “Oh, thank you, Techno! I was getting worried we would never find our way out of here. See, we were heading this direction but I think we were going in circles! I don’t remember ever turning but you know my memory.”

Techno fixes him with a pitiful stare for a moment, pausing. There’s an aching feeling that tugs at Ghostbur’s soul as he’s trapped by it. Oh, he thinks, Techno must be sad too. I’ll make sure to find him later and give him some blue too!

Ghostbur continues cheerfully rambling on. “I ran into Philza earlier too! He was… well, I don’t quite remember but he helped Friend and I find the portal here! Sort of like you are too, come to think of it-”

“We’re here.” Technoblade interrupts with his signature monotone inflection, gesturing to a simple nether portal and turning back towards them. “Be careful out there. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Oh! Don’t worry, Technoblade!” The tiny ghost gives him an award-winning smile. “I’m already dead! I can’t get hurt.”

The piglin hybrid gives him a wistful smile and a pat on the head for both of them. He opens his mouth to say something but a loud cry from a ghast interrupts him. He whirls around with a shining netherite sword and bats the incoming fireball away. “Go! I’ll hold it off!”

The sudden appearance of a ghast startles the two fellows but Ghostbur hangs onto Friend as the sheep bolts towards the portal after a fireball explodes near them. He closes his eyes as they charge through the purple gateway.

Panic spikes through Ghostbur as he comes out the other side alone, facing blackstone walls. Oh dear, this isn’t where he meant to end up. These are the walls inside the prison where Dream is kept. He spins in a circle, looking around the room. “Friend? Where did you go?”

The portal shatters, the pieces dissolving into the air. Warden Sam walks up behind him, fixing him with a suspicious look. “I thought you said you were alone. Who’s this friend you’re talking about?”

The tiny spector jumps at the sudden appearance of the creeper hybrid, the red eyes burning holes into his transparent form. “Oh! Oh, uh! Nobody! I came alone and there’s no one with me!” He can’t place it, but something about the situation is making him very anxious. Confusion swims through his mind. He must be forgetting something. “I must have left Friend outside with Tommy…”

Feeling down about this, he reaches into his pockets to pull out some of his emergency blue, but his pockets are empty. “Ah? Where are my things? My book? My blue?”

“You put them in the chest,” Sam says. “You can have it back when you’re done visiting the prisoner.”

“Okay…”

Ghostbur doesn’t remember wanting to visit the prisoner. He just remembers looking for more blue to give to his family. And now he is stuck following this very spooky man down a very spooky staircase to a very spooky wall of lava with no blue to take away his fear and no Friend to keep him company. How had he ended up here?

Slowly, the lava parts, forming a walkway to the prison cell where a white, porcelain head smiles at him. Despite the heat, a chill goes up his spine. Ghostbur grips his sweater and looks back at Sam for reassurance but there’s no sign the hybrid had even been in the room. “Um- S-Sam? Are you hiding?”

Ghostbur wishes he could hide too. He’s not sure he’s going to find any blue over here. He turns around and gasps, suddenly much, much closer to Dream than before. The lava closes behind him as the monster stands. Ghostbur doesn’t remember crossing the sea of lava to get here but he must have because now there’s nothing separating him from this… friend? Tormentor? He doesn’t remember.

His chest is heaving with air he doesn’t need as Dream casually steps towards him, the mouth on his chest grinning impossibly wide. Dread forms in the pit of his stomach as a clawed hand reaches for him. He curls in on himself floating in the air, tears pricking at his eyes, terror thrumming through his heart.

He jerks awake with a yell and looks around for Friend. The cold, dark walls of the subway greets him and he curls up on himself, careful not to touch the wet floor. Shadowy figures who shift and shake if he looks at them crowd around the tubeline. He hiccups, tears welling in his eyes and burning their way down his cheeks.

“Oh, that’s right… I’m alone…”

He grips the blue stain in his sweater. His voice is impossibly quiet.

“I have no blue and I have no Friend…”

He starts crying, missing his family members, missing his sheep, missing the blue he would use to calm down. He sniffles.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to make you all feel better…”

[moonbaby26]

Title: Sleepover

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. After getting Peter back to his house in D.C., he asks you to spend the night. You want to, but you’re also worried about what his mother and his twin sister Wanda may really think of you. As you and Peter get a little more time alone, you also wonder how far you’re ready to go yourself.

Warnings: Nothing more than kissing really in this chapter. Bit of awkwardness from Reader though not knowing what they really want or how to go about it yet.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

My Masterlist

——————————

“Anyway, can we argue inside at least? (Y/N) promised to call Xavier when we got here.” Peter piped up, trying to shuffle away from his mother at last.

At the sudden sound of your name though, you felt an added bit of nervousness. You also made eye contact with Peter’s mother for the very first time then, as if she’d only just realized you were there.

Peter’s sister Wanda was also looking back at you with question in her face as well at the reveal of your name. But you said nothing yet, just walking up to hand Peter his crutches.

You purposefully busied yourself turning right back around too, getting that jacket he’d stolen on the plane out from the back of the car as well for him. The sunglasses he already had still on top of his head.

So then, the only other things left in the car were the meager amount of clothes you’d bought for yourself. Which you didn’t need right now as you walked back to the others, carrying his jacket. But really pretty unsure yourself if you were even going to be invited inside for long at all.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the phone is,” Peter spoke again though, either oblivious to the increasing awkwardness for everyone else or just ignoring it entirely as he motioned for you to follow him back up the steps and through the still open front door.

—————————

As you were unfolding the little piece of paper with the motel address and phone number from out of your pocket, you tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The corded phone was propped against your shoulder to rest against your ear, you now standing there in the Maximoffs’ small kitchen. But even as you started to dial the numbers, half your attention was still on whatever Peter was now rapidly saying to his family.

“Yeah, (Y/N) goes to that school. You know I just went there to go ask about Dad since they know him. But then there’s this explosion, and I had to pull everybody out. And all the sudden this mutant god is apparently attacking the world and he took Xavier. But then the government shows up like dolts thinking Xavier’s doing it instead. And they take us to question us, but they’ve got some evil experiment shit going on in there too-”

He only took the smallest breath, continuing at that accelerated pace. “And they had that other guy, remember him, Mom? Logan? Anyway, so he breaks out and wrecks the place, so we get out and I get (Y/N), then we find out where Xavier is so we go to get him. We’re in Egypt and we all fight and that god dude breaks my leg. But he’s trying to make Dad help him, but Dad turns on him and-”

“Hello?” You heard someone on the other end of the line finally answer at the motel. You could still hear Peter rattling on excitedly behind you though, your name peppered into his story several more times as you just answered back on the phone.

“Hi, is there a Charles Xavier checked in there? I need to ring his room please.”

There was a long pause where you could only keep standing there, just looking at the kitchen wall and the bit of older panelling that covered it before the phone finally started ringing again.

Peter was now already talking about the aircraft carrier and your stay there by the time you heard the receiver pick up again.

“This is Charles.”

“Hi…hey, it’s me.” You answered with some relief.

You could hear the quick recognition in the Professor’s own voice as you didn’t have to say your name before he gladly responded. “Ah, good. You made it with no trouble then? We checked in here a while ago. I’m in room 104 if you’d need to call back. Are you leaving now to drive back?”

You tried to commit the room number to memory even as you were already replying. “Yeah, it wasn’t a bad drive. We just got here a minute ago. I-”

“Yo, Prof.!” Peter interjected, surprisingly at your side abruptly, also speaking into the phone then. “We’re barely in the door. I was going to show (Y/N) around a bit. That cool? Pretty jet lagged anyway. Probably be safer to crash on the couch tonight and have (Y/N) head your way in the morning, right?”

You blinked, for one thing not even having heard Peter stop talking to his family. But two, he was really saying you should sleep here? Not just joking around anymore? Could he even decide that on his own?

You felt frozen in that moment, not wanting to look back towards the kitchen at all and whatever surprised expressions his mother and sister may now also have on their faces.

The pause on the other end of the line was very noticeable as well before Xavier eventually continued. Peter shimmied even closer to you so he could also put his ear almost against the phone as you turned it slightly for him.

“Peter, I appreciate you looking out for everyone’s best interests and safety,” The Professor answered then, but with that tone which said he clearly doubted that was the speedster’s true or only reasoning. “But I would think that’d be more for your mother to-”

“Mom!” Peter turned his head back, rather loud in your ear as you flinched a little. “Can (Y/N) sleep on the couch? I mean you hate it when Wanda drives late by herself. Same thing right? It’s a long drive back to New York. What self respecting mom is just going to throw anybody’s kid out into the night like that, huh?”

You were tired, yes. It’d already been a very long day of traveling. But you weren’t that helpless. You were pretty sure you’d be fine. This was so weird though. Standing here in silence while someone else bargained for you. Was he really just trying to extend your time together however he could?

“I don’t care, Peter.” You just heard a rather exasperated answer though from Magda after another moment. “You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Why even ask me anymore?”

The tension from their argument in the driveway clearly remained, or maybe this was how it always was between them? You couldn’t know yet, just caught in the middle it seemed as Peter only took that as good enough, talking back into the phone quickly, “Mom says it’s cool.”

You heard a sigh on the other end, and Xavier replied, “You’re old enough, I don’t have much say myself. But do call me again when you are leaving so we know when you’re back on the road, agreed?”

“Yes.” You said, pulling the phone more back to you then. “I’ll definitely let you know. Please tell the others I’m okay. I’ll see you all soon.”

After that, you and the Professor both told each other goodnight, and that was it. You hung the phone back up, but not yet sure what you’d really gotten yourself into as you glanced back at Peter. Peter who was now outright grinning from ear to ear.

“So…Chuck Norris or Bruce Lee? Movie night?” He asked you.

But what else could you do? You didn’t mind getting the chance at a little more time together of course. You just weren’t sure about how much anyone else actually wanted you here in this house tonight.

——————————

Not long after, whatever deeper discussions still loomed in the air about Peter’s choices of chasing his estranged father straight into a near death experience with a genocidal mutant god appeared shelved. At least for now anyway.

You’d seen Magda grab some sort of drink. Resigning herself to an armchair and the living room television as she seemed to ignore you all then, even as Peter remained almost bubbly while the two of you started down the basement stairs to his room.

You really hadn’t seen where Wanda had gone, but Peter just kept talking. So your focus only returned to him as you both cleared the last step at the bottom of the staircase. You behind him as you carried his crutches, then handing them back to him as you entered the room.

“And voila, man cave de Pietro!” He announced, waving an arm out towards the space.

You weren’t sure why you’d expected something smaller either. Of course most basements sprawled out to take up near the whole bottom footprint of a house. But this was still large to you, and clearly well used.

There were things everywhere. More than just a room obviously. No, this was his life, his hideaway. The more you looked, the more things you saw. Bicycles, guitars, comic books, band posters, all pieces of his hobbies and likes scattered about.

But there was furniture as well. A little table, some chairs, was this always where he ate too? There was a big sectional couch, the cushions indented a little like he may have a favorite spot there.

You didn’t miss the expensive looking television as well, and the VHS player. All the tapes, and the nintendo and the atari, the record player, a stereo, and boxes of games, cassettes, and music records.

And his bed was near in the center of it all, much wider than one person should need and almost right on the ground as he just fell back onto it sending a noticeable wave across the sheets. A waterbed clearly. But you just laughed a little, still a bit amazed. “You really do live here in the true sense of the word don’t you?”

“Hey, I make do. Home sweet home.” He smirked, but also raised an eyebrow at you not long after. “So you didn’t even notice the table back there did you?”

At his words you did look back over your shoulder with a little confusion. But you started to smile as soon as you realized what he was talking about. An air hockey table back around the corner. Some clutter on top of it like it hadn’t been used in a while, but it was clear he remembered your arcade favorites to point it out like he was.

“I figured I’d try to keep that a surprise until now…you know, since our arcade date might be a little postponed for the moment. So uh, surprise?” He said, laying back on his bed as he put his arms behind his head, still watching you.

“I did see the Ms. Pac-Man.” You replied, motioning to the more obvious machine right against the wall. No wonder he’d said he was pretty good at that one.

“Yeah, I used to have Pong too. Wore it out though. And got tired of trying to find parts to fix it.”

“Oh, I could see that happening.” Sure, he probably played everything with a little super speed. Though imagining him somehow ‘shoplifting’ a whole arcade machine whenever he needed another one was a bit interesting. How did that even work?

“So, uh…you want me to put a movie on for real? I was trying to get us out of that kitchen before Mom went off again. But we can do whatever. You know…whatever you want?” He spoke, albeit maybe a little oddly as you glanced to him again.

He almost sounded a touch nervous with those last words? The slight change in tone was enough for you to catch anyway as you did walk over to the bed regardless before sitting down on the edge of it beside him.

But it was strange here, the more you considered everything. It was hard to explain really. Because how many countless times had you sat in your friends’ rooms at the mansion? Guys or girls, just talking or playing games or whatever. Just hanging out as you supposed most all people your age did. But there was never anything weird, never anything uncomfortable.

It could even be late at night sometimes, some of you only half dressed in your sleep shirts or pajamas and no one thought anything about it. Because you just knew back then that no one thought of you as anything but a friend too.

But with Peter…being here now, you were suddenly acutely aware that you were sitting on his bed. In his room, as he seemed to be waiting for some sort of guidance from you as well. Was that why he sounded nervous?

Yet had Crystal ever been here too you wondered. Sitting just where you were sitting now? And why would you think of such a stupid thing in this very moment?

“Hey.” Peter said gently, causing you to look down as you felt his fingers graze your wrist after he moved his arm to reach out.

You smiled a little at the contact, but still felt kind of foolish. There was no point in trying to play it cool though as you confessed the current reason for your own awkwardness at least. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be in anybody’s room like this. It’s not bad, it’s just…”

“Different?” He asked, helping you out a little to your surprise.

“Yeah.” You answered simply. But you could see as another emotion seemed to pass briefly through his expression, furthering your bit of confusion.

Was that guilt on his face?

And he spoke a little abruptly, with that rarer more serious tone emerging even though the words came fairly quick. “You know I was still just giving you a hard time right? I’m cool going as slow as we need. Despite being the fastest dude alive and all, I don’t have to be the fastest guy in bed. That’d royally suck actually. For both of us. So don’t feel like there are some sort of rules here. Like, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You blinked, those words not what you were expecting. But it wasn’t bad at all the more you got to consider them. Was he really so worried that you may think he was trying to get something from you here that you weren’t yet ready to give?

Honestly, you didn’t even know yourself what you were ready for though. “Really, it’s okay.” You replied truthfully. “I’m not uncomfortable. I think I’m still in disbelief is all. I never would have thought this is how my summer would start this year. Never in a million years.”

He sat up, smiling again then with his normal tone bouncing back fairly easily. “And I am totally coming over for a pool party, as soon as this damned cast is off. I mean I’m white as shit so people may have to avert their eyes. But we would totally wreck the others in some volleyball or something. I know we would. As long as Jean doesn’t cheat with the telekinesis crap. I could do some whirlpools too you know, knock ‘em off their feet.”

“Sounds safe.” You said, laughing at the image. Maybe living in some random motel for the foreseeable future wouldn’t be so bad after all?

He chuckled in return, but was cut off by another voice just before he started to speak again.

“Knock knock.”

You both looked up toward the stairs as you first saw a pair of black boots coming down them. Black boots, old jeans, and a dark red t-shirt.

Peter called back, straightening up a little more at the sight. “Hey, sis. Fun run out upstairs with Mom and Dynasty on the tube or what?”

“Well, it was an Alexis and Dominique Deveraux battle episode, actually.” Wanda answered a little regretfully.

“Aw, your favorite catfight duo! Why the exit then?” Peter questioned in return.

She gave Peter a slight accusatory look. “Well, you got Mom in a mood and she wanted to talk about my school next. She wanted to and I didn’t. Simple as that.”

“Well…actually I thought you’d still be at your dorm too really. Not that I’m complaining. Haven’t seen you in forever. Your classes get cancelled?” He asked.

“Well, when the metal roof got pulled off the main assembly hall, I think they decided to err on the side of caution.” She responded, rather deadpan.

“Understandable. You think you’ll still go back in the fall?” Peter questioned anyway.

“Don’t know. I haven’t really liked anything about that college yet. But I said I didn’t want to talk about it remember?” Her tone wasn’t cold to him, but still rather final.

He clearly wasn’t as intimidated by her as you were though as he didn’t miss a beat. “Well how about a movie with us? Me and (Y/N) were about to pick something.”

How true that statement was on Peter’s part, you weren’t really sure. But you still said nothing as Wanda just moved to sit on the other edge of the bed, almost as far from you as could be you noted. But Peter still between the both of you as she looked unimpressed. “Can it be something a little less bloody than your usual at least?”

He scoffed, teasing back. “Well I don’t keep your Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie box sets down here you know.”

“Oh shut up.” Wanda retorted, but it was the first time you’d seen her really smirk. Though the siblings were clearly very different, that expression was also a brief resemblance you couldn’t miss.

“Wanda’s a bit of a sitcom connoisseur.” Peter commented for your benefit.

You took the chance to make eye contact with her at that, thinking that might be your in to finally start a real conversation. But she only looked away. If Wanda was unfriendly with strangers period, or actually just disliked you specifically, it was hard to know yet.

“Just pick something.” She finally replied to Peter though. “If I go back through the living room to try to go to my room right now, Mom’s just going to try and start an interrogation again.���

—————————

Hours later

“Hey, you keep moving around. Do you want a pillow?” Peter’s voice drifted from above.

You were pretty disoriented, for one strange moment just staring up at him and clueless to where you even were before your senses returned a little.

The sunlight was gone then. The only real light flickering from the television nearby that was now on some movie you didn’t remember the name of as you sat back up a little on his bed. Was this the third movie he’d put in? You hadn’t lasted very long at all had you?

“I can get on the couch,” You offered, awake enough then to at least remember his mother and sister were still around here somewhere. Though, when had Wanda left? You didn’t see her anymore and you didn’t even know what time it was.

“Seems kind of unnecessary,” Peter replied, in a quieter tone that caught your attention as you paused.

Was he inferring that you should just get under the blankets right here? With him? But sharing the bunk on the aircraft carrier wasn’t the same as being in his literal bed. Here in his family’s home where they already seemed to be rather distant with you at best.

They didn’t know you here. You had to remind yourself of that. They couldn’t know you didn’t spend the night at boys’ houses as habit. You didn’t get in their beds with them upon just meeting. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d slept somewhere besides the now destroyed mansion.

“Peter…” You didn’t know how to convey that concern really. You did want Magda and Wanda to like you eventually if you were being honest. You wanted them to understand. But you wanted Peter to understand too. Even though he’d said he was fine taking things as slow as you wanted, you felt it would still be all too easy to make him feel rejected without meaning to if you weren’t careful.

“I mean, we could both fit on my couch down here too,” He added, so close then that you were sure he was waiting for you to cross the rest of the small distance and kiss him.

And how could staring at each other in the dark, with the muffled sounds of some badly dubbed kung fu movie in the background now be bordering on romantic for you? Somewhere in the back of your mind you did think of all those stereotypical movie scenes all of the sudden. Two young people just in their own world, oblivious to all else.

“I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression on your family yet.” You tried to explain. “If I’m still in this bed with you the next time one of them comes down here…there is no way they’re going to believe we only watched movies and slept tonight.”

He tilted his head a little, yet already smiling. “And you assume they think someone like you would be that physically attracted to someone that looks and acts like me?”

“I do…and I am.” You answered though. Not trying to lead him on, but unable to help yourself either then as you did close that small distance to kiss him. You still disliked anytime he made those comments about somehow being underserving. He was far from it.

The little bit of tension you felt in return told you he was surprised too, but that quickly faded of course as he only pressed into it to kiss you back.

You had no intention of going too far or taking advantage of his family’s allowing you to stay here tonight however. It wouldn’t be right.

But you were still young as well, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel good as he touched your face and your own hand moved onto his chest. It was something too how quickly the heat rose inside you. You could feel the outline of his body through his shirt as your hand trailed down.

He was warm, his abdomen firm against your moving hand. You kissed him harder actually as his own hand moved back behind your neck. But you needed to stop soon, either that or he needed to wear thicker clothing as your hand wandered further.

It was him that surprised you to finally pull back first though. Yet smiling at you again as he kept his face close.

Your breathing had already changed a little as you looked back to him before he glanced down. He raised an eyebrow at your hand now resting on the waistband of his shorts.

Realizing what he was looking at, you pulled your hand away, apologizing reflexively. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…” Your mind fumbled a little. Your hand had just been running down. There was no real intent behind it, despite how it looked.

“You’re so funny. Seriously.” He said in that slight tone of amusement though. “Jumping out a plane one day, ready to sacrifice yourself samurai warrior style for your buddies, brave as shit.” He tilted his head, before then enclosing his hand around yours that you’d just pulled back. “But here you get flustered? I’m just a guy, (Y/N). Total nobody. There’s nothing to apologize for. Though I still don’t get it at all. I mean, why you like me like you do.”

“But you admit it then at least?” You tried to counter back, instead of arguing against his very real point that a new relationship could be more intimidating to you than a battlefield. “You admit that I like you. Instead of just telling me I’m making a mistake?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess even I can’t really make up a story of why you’d choose to drive all the way back to New York by yourself instead of bringing one of your friends here with you…unless you really wanted to be one on one with me.” But he just smirked once more, leaning in again to steal a quick additional kiss before pulling back away. “Guess you’re just that nuts.”

“Thanks.” You joked back.

“Takes one to know one.” He answered tauntingly, then sliding off the bed a little awkwardly as he put his feet back on the floor, albeit trying to only put weight on his good leg.

He didn’t have to go far though to reach a nearby closet, pulling a large blanket from it. He wadded it up a little, then tossing it to you. “Since you’re being modest though, you can sleep with Optimus Prime and Megatron tonight. But here, take one of my pillows too.”

In the dark, you couldn’t really make out what was on the blanket. Some sort of characters. You’d just have to take his word on it being Transformers before you caught the pillow that he threw to you next.

“As far as which couch you sleep on, your call. But Wanda always gets up, classic insomniac. I don’t think you want to tempt her with the opportunity to peek into your head if you stay in the living room. She hasn’t met you for real yet and probably still wants the background deets on you.”

“She’s another psychic?” At first you couldn’t remember if he’d already told you that or not. But no, you definitely would have recalled that. Yet maybe this was better? You wouldn’t have to prove anything if she could just see the truth in your mind of how you felt for her brother.

But Peter waved his hand in a ‘so-so’ type gesture. “I don’t think labels really work well with my sister. Yeah, she can get in people’s heads. But she’s not like your friends. She’s her own deal. It’s different. There’s a lot more that she can do. I’m just saying I wouldn’t advise messing with her is all.”

Whatever concerned look you must have given then was enough for him to quickly continue though, “But I’ll work on her the whole time while you’re back in New York. She just doesn’t know you yet. It’ll be fine!”

“Uh huh.” You said, not so confidently. “Guess I’m sleeping on this couch then.”

“A wise choice I think.”

“Of course, you could just be saying all this to get me scared enough to stay down here.”

“Oh, it’s both of course.” He smiled, watching you lay down on the couch even as he got into his bed. “And if you get cold, babe. I’m just a few feet away you know.”

Even from here, you were pretty sure he winked at you as you wrapped yourself up in that blanket he’d given you and stretched out on his couch. “If I go over there, I’m not coming back over here and I know it.”

“Or I could come over there,” he offered, only half jokingly of course.

But you just laid your head on the pillow, knowing you were trying to do the right thing at least. “Not enough room for your leg. You’d be uncomfortable.”

“If you say so, killjoy.”

You only smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Night, Glo-Worm.” He responded happily.

“Ugh,” You’d hoped he’d forgotten that by now, but apparently not. “Really have to fix that. There’s got to be a better codename for me.”

“Well we can’t all be Quicksilver. Sorry, I called dibs.”

“And we can’t all choose our nicknames out of a department store display case either.” You retorted.

“Ouch. Touché.”

He didn’t tease you anymore after that, but you could still feel his gaze on you as you closed your eyes again not long after. He was close enough that you also felt safe, even here in this new environment.

It was going to be hard to leave tomorrow, that much was certain. But at least you’d also know what you’d have to look forward to as soon as his cast was off again.

Maybe the next time you two fell asleep under the same roof, it’d be in a more neutral territory where you wouldn’t have to worry about his mother or sister’s judgement. Then you could hold him just like you wanted to. And it would be well worth the wait.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[drabbles-mc]

Comfort Zone

Chibs Telford x F!Reader

Request from Anon: Can I have some Chibs? I don’t care how you do it, but I want me some Chibs. But just a happy ending, yo girl loves happy endings ❤️

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Two fics in one day because today has been rough and writing is my number one coping mechanism haha. This is my first time writing for Chibs! Writing the accent was new so please extend a little extra grace there lol. Sorry if it’s clunky at all in that regard. But have a nice little dose of fluffy feelings with our Filip xo

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @garbinge​ @chibsytelford​ @mijop​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ (If you want to be tagged in future fics don’t hesitate to let me know!)

Chibs was making his way back towards his dorm when he heard someone scuffling around inside. He sighed—the day had been long enough, the last thing he wanted to do was go toe-to-toe with whoever was rummaging through all of his things.

He pulled his gun out from his kutte as he pushed his door open, “Ye got about ten seconds to get the fuck out before I—” he stopped short when he saw you standing by his dresser.

You chuckled, motioning for him to finish his sentence, “Before you what? C’mon, I’m invested in this now.”

Despite his exhaustion he had to chuckle. He shook his head slightly, “Nevermind. What’re you doin’ here, lass? Haven’t you got a home of yer own?”

You laughed as you walked up to him, “Yea but you’re not there.”

The two of you were standing close enough to touch, to hold each other, but you didn’t. It was the same song and dance the two of you had been doing for weeks, now. There was no denying that there was chemistry between the two of you. You’d never made any attempt to hide the fact that you were attracted to him, and he wasn’t exactly a person you would describe as subtle. But despite all of that, neither of you had ever really pushed things to the next level. You couldn’t speak for what was going on inside Chibs’ head, but you knew that he wasn’t someone that you could afford to lose. If playing this game in limbo with him was how you got to have him, then so be it.

“What’s goin’ on, love?” he ran his hand back through his hair.

The smile faded away slightly from your face, “I…I’ve just had a really rough day. And honestly? All I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

He laughed, not at your exhaustion or distress, but at the plain and simple honesty of your statement. He’d never been someone who was good at saying no to you. He reached out and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Alright then. Sounds like I can help with both those things,” he pulled away and stepped back towards the door, “Let me go grab a bottle.”

You chuckled, “You really expect me to believe that you don’t have at least one stashed in here somewhere?”

He smiled, shaking his head, “Course I do. But if yer looking for a full bottle, you won’t find that here.”

He disappeared out the door and you couldn’t help but to laugh quietly to yourself. You sat down on his bed, curling your toes into the worn-out throw rug that was on the floor beside his bed. Your hands smoothed out the blanket next to you while you waited. You’d popped into his dorm countless times to talk to him. He’d even let you crash a few times if you got too drunk to drive home after a party, not that he would ever share the bed with you. It was the first time the two of you were really sharing the space together this way.

A few minutes later he reappeared in the doorway. He walked in, shaking his head slightly as he shut and locked the door behind himself. You looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side.

“You okay?”

He nodded, “They’re afraid I’m gonna drink myself into oblivion in here,” he lifted the fresh bottle of whiskey to prove his point.

You laughed, “Tell them you were at least sharing?”

He shook his head, “You wouldn’t get a moment’s peace if they knew you were in ‘ere.”

You smiled but didn’t say anything. You knew that he was right, if the guys knew that it was the two of you back here sharing a room and a bottle of whiskey, you’d never hear the end of it. They gave you a hard enough time as it was and nothing had ever even happened between you and Chibs. This might be just enough to make all their heads explode.

He shrugged his kutte off, draping it over the lone chair in his room. He tossed the bottle onto the mattress and you laughed as you picked it up, unscrewing the cap. You were about to press the bottle to your lips when you heard the sound of his belt buckle being undone. You froze, eyes automatically darting over to look at him.

He saw the look on your face and chuckled, “Don’ let me stop you. Drink up.”

You felt your cheeks get hot and you let out a nervous laugh as you took a swig from the bottle. Hopefully it would help to calm your nerves. The other possible side effect was that you were going to lose what little resolve you had left that was keeping you from attempting to climb him like a tree.

He was down to just his t-shirt and boxers as he made his way over to the bed. He stopped just before he reached it, taking a moment to really look at you. His brows furrowed for a moment as he looked you up and down.

“You wearing my shirt?”

You bit at your bottom lip, the heat in your face intensifying with every passing moment, “Um. Yea. Wanted something more comfortable. That alright?”

He chuckled and nodded, “Glad yer so comfortable here,” he sat down on the edge of the bed, “G’won, scoot over. Make some room.”

You laughed as you crawled to the far side of the bed, getting yourself underneath the covers as you did. Chibs slid in beside you and held his arm out, gesturing for you to come and tuck yourself up against his side. You did so gladly, reveling in the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, just passing the bottle back and forth to each other. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest and it made all of the stress that you had previously been battling with melt away. Every now and then he would lightly run his fingers up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

While he was still holding onto the bottle, you turned so that you were laying more completely onto his chest, one of your arms slung across his stomach. It earned a chuckle from Chibs, who then used the hand not holding the whiskey to lightly massage your temples.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, love?” he kept his voice quiet.

You sighed, drumming your fingers on his chest as you thought about whether or not you really wanted to get into everything that was bothering you. You didn’t really want to bore him with your work and family drama—you knew that he had enough to worry about with everything that had been going on with the club.

“Just a shitty day,” you looked up at him, “You okay? You usually don’t walk into your dorm swinging your gun around.”

He chuckled before taking another drink from the whiskey bottle. He handed it to you before leaning his head back against the wall behind his bed. “Don’t usually have people goin’ through my shit, either,” he pulled lightly at the sleeve of his shirt that you were wearing, “Thief.”

You laughed, “I guess that’s fair,” you sat upright so that you could take a swig from the bottle, the burn bothering you less and less as the night wore on.

You reached over him so that you could set the bottle on his nightstand. His breath hit your neck as you leaned across him and it almost caused the bottle to slip from your fingers. You tried to keep yourself composed as you leaned back, pulling your legs so that they were tucked up underneath you.

“Somethin’ on yer mind?” there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips as he asked, and you had the feeling that he knew exactly what was on your mind.

“Why don’t we do this all the time?” you asked.

It wasn’t what he had been expecting you to say. He thought about his response for a moment, “Prob’ly because I’d run out of shirts for you to wear.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove, “You know what I mean. Wh-why do we always have to pretend that we like each other less than we really do?”

“You tell me, darlin’,” the expression on his face was soft, knowing, “’Cos I’ve seen you backpedal about a dozen times just tonight.”

You wanted to sink into the mattress, hating how well he could read you, “Do you even like me?”

He couldn’t help his laughter, “Nah, can’t stand ye. That’s why I keep lettin’ you come around.”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You know what I mean.”

He rested his hand over yours, fingers tracing along your knuckles, “Course I like you. But I’m too old for games. I’m not lookin’ to convince anyone into anythin’.”

You mulled his words over for a few moments. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the alcohol, or a mixture of the two that made it so difficult for you to believe what he was telling you. It seemed too easy that he might feel the same way as you.

“So if I kissed you right now, you’d…just…”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling slightly at the edges, “G’won. Find out.”

You were hardly able to believe your own level of confidence as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. He instantly leaned into you, lips moving perfectly in sync with yours. You could taste the whiskey off his lips and tongue and it was everything that you imagined it would be. His hand came up and cradled the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him.

When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could see the smile on Chibs’ face. “See?” his hand slid down to rest on the back of your neck, “Wasn’ so bad, was it?”

“Not bad at all.”

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Alright then. C’mere,” he reached and shut his bedside lamp off, “you had your drink. Come a little closer so I can give you a proper cuddle fer yer bad day.”

You laughed as he slid down so that he was lying on his side, facing you and waiting for you to do the same thing. You shimmied down farther underneath the covers. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you so that your chest was flush against his. Your hands came to rest lightly on either side of his neck, thumbs tracing idly along his jawline. Every few minutes he’d lean in and kiss you—on the lips, on the cheek, on the forehead. He never tried to drag it out. You found yourself settling into him, your legs involuntarily tangling themselves up with his.

“Goodnight,” you mumbled sleepily against his chest.

You felt his chest vibrate with quiet laughter. He pressed a kiss to the edge of your forehead, “Goodnight, love.”

[bjornthorsson20]

As Long as You're by My Side

Ron Weasley was absolutely not having the evening he had planned — why did that sound familiar? He was currently stuck at a party where he didn't feel comfortable at all, and so bored that his brain had turned to mud. He was sitting alone at a table on the back, far away from everyone, sipping on some whiskey — a drink that didn't taste nearly as good as regular firewhiskey.

The suit Hermione had picked for him was starting to feel three sizes too small and he was pretty sure his tie was literally trying to strangle him. He was still assessing his surroundings, pondering how he could sneak out the back, taking Hermione with him so they could go back home and have some actual fun for tonight.

He had strategically positioned himself so she was in his line of sight at all times. At that moment, her back was facing him as she engaged in conversation with people who Ron guessed to be some aunt and uncle. He was content just staying in his corner, silently watching her from the distance. Nobody was paying him any mind, anyway. In fact, he was pretty sure they weren’t even aware of his existence. He could probably dress up in a panda costume or in a bathrobe and stroll around, and they wouldn’t bat an eye. Or maybe a banana costume; or a cowboy; or an astron-

He snapped himself out of his ramblings before he got carried away and started seriously considering following through with it. Instead, his eyes focused again on Hermione, who was now struggling to stop the reason they were here tonight from pulling her hair out.

Rose Granger-Weasley was six months old, having been born August of last year, on the 25th. The day she came into this world had been simultaneously the most nerve-wracking and rewarding one of his life. He chuckled, remembering the way Hermione kept apologizing for all the foul things she had said to him during the whole process and for almost breaking his hand. She had felt awful, even when he’d assured her multiple times that it was just fine, and he’d gladly take a broken hand if it’d mean having that perfect little bundle of ginger hair and pale skin nestled in his arms. When Rose opened her eyes for the first time, and he saw how beautiful they were — the most beautiful he’d ever seen — and how they were the same color as her mother’s, a tear trailed down his cheek. And when she finally looked at him and let out a little toothless smile, he couldn’t stop the overflowing joy that coursed through his body, making him hold her gently closer as he let the tears fall freely, all the while Hermione watched them both with her own watery smile.

Soon after, he’d had to hand Rose over to the rest of the family that were fighting for an armful of the Weasley girl. Mum had been the biggest emotional mess — to no one’s surprise — bawling everytime she looked at the baby. Dad and all of his brothers had congratulated him with several pats on the back of varying force.

“This time I’ll surely be the favorite uncle,” George told him, and at the mention of the word “uncle”, Ron’s thoughts immediately went to Fred. He could see in his brother’s eyes that he was thinking the same, but they both found comfort knowing that, if Fred was watching them, he was probably having a laugh at Ron’s new fatherhood situation, thinking he was a fool for settling down. The git.

Harry and Ginny had brought James and Albus with them, James instantly liking the newborn, with Rose’s response being to grab his hair and not let go of it until Ginny intervened; Ron had to suppress a chuckle. Good girl, Rosie. Like father, like daughter.

Once the new family had gone home, George happily let Ron take an extended leave for as long as he deemed suitable, so he could focus on the newborn. The shop was doing better than ever thanks to Ron’s business tactics and George’s renewed sense of creativity for all sorts of products. But thanks to Lee’s and Verity’s help, Ron could step away for some time without issue.

Over the next couple of months, many friends came to see little Rosie and congratulate them on this next chapter of their lives. Then, one day Hermione received a call from one of her cousins, inviting her to her wedding. Hermione had tried to explain to her that with the new baby girl she would be too busy to attend, but it had backfired when her cousin let out a screech of excitement — that sounded very much like a hippogriff on fire, Ron thought — saying that Hermione had to bring the girl so the family could meet her.

And that was how they got themselves into a muggle wedding reception. Hermione had been happily catching up with all of the relatives she hadn’t seen since the pre-Hogwarts days, letting them fawn over their lovely baby girl. If this had been years ago, Ron would be terrified to be in the muggle world, afraid of being just one step away from screwing everything up by saying the wrong thing. But, after years of Auror missions and visits to his in-laws, he just found himself disinterested with everything, hoping that Hermione would come soon to tell him they could go home.

Finishing his drink, he saw Hermione turn to him and give him a tired smile, as the people she was talking to turned as well and left. He stood up, striding over to her in three long steps, before taking Rose from her arms and giving her a kiss on the temple.

“Shall we go?” he asked, already sensing that she was as sick of this whole thing as he was.

She bit her lip nervously, glancing over to the newlyweds’ table. “I told her we would stay until the cake was served,” she half-whispered, stifling a yawn as her face fell into a grimace, perhaps thinking he would be mad at her for prolonging their stay here.

Ron silently looked at her and their daughter, and he couldn’t help but smile in that silly way he did whenever he was overwhelmed with love for them.

“Hermione, as long as you’re by my side, both of you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve told you, as much as I may be content just by myself, it’s only when I’m with you that I am truly happy. With you I feel loved.”

Hermione’s bottom lip quivered, as she quickly hugged her husband, hiding her face on his shoulder. “There are no words to describe you, Ron Weasley,” she sobbed.

“I could say the same, love. Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Only about a million times already,” she chuckled.

“Well, make it a million and one, then,” he said, knowing how much she loved when he found a way to tell her that in an indirect way.

“I love you too. Both of you,” she tightened her hold on him as she spoke.

They stood there, holding each other close. Ron realised in that very moment, that no matter where he went, he didn’t care if he didn’t feel welcomed. He would be happy as long as the two people he loved the most would be right there with him. Always.

[plant-flwrs]

a secret santa proposal // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i think this and one more with neville are my last christmas fics! just winter themed ones after that! i actaully love this fic so much, i’ve always been so intrigued by the next generation of weasley kids and this is the first fic i’ve gotten to include them in (plus teddy lupin because i couldn’t help myself). as always, thank you so much for reading <33

(implied female reader)

summary: George gets you the perfect secret Santa gift

(2.6k)

--------

George had gone to Diagon Alley nearly every day this week. His feet hurt when he got home from walking all day, and at some point, he even got some windburn on his lips.

You and George were due at the burrow on Friday for a Christmas dinner. A Christmas dinner that would end with secret Santa gift exchanges.

You had picked Ginny, deciding to get her a lovely scarf and matching cardigan almost right after finding out you got her. George, however, was having a little more difficulty.

George wanted this year’s gift to be perfect. He felt even more pressure knowing you’d be opening his gift in front of his entire family, rather than in the privacy of the flat you shared.

“Honey, come back to bed,” you groaned when you felt his weight shift off the bed, patting your hand on his now empty side of the bed.

“I can’t, shops open soon,” he grumbled, shuffling into the bathroom at the ungodly hour it was.

He had been refusing to tell you who he got, insisting that the secret part was the most fun of it all. You rolled your eyes but indulged his secrecy. This, however, was getting too much. You wanted a lay-in with your boyfriend, for god’s sake.

George walked against the wind- scarf pulled over his lips after learning his lesson- as he neared the shop he had been looking for. 

It was a muggle jewelry shop. 

The idea had come to him the second he picked your name, but something in him was making him second guess himself. You had been dating for four years, you were serious adults, and he loved you more than anything in his life. Still, he had doubts.

What if you thought Christmas engagements were cheesy? What if you thought he was going too fast? What if you walked out and left him at his family home on his knee?

George paced in front of the shop, glancing at the door and reaching out to open it every once and a while only to retract his hand. Eventually, he worked up the nerve and opened the door. If he was this nervous to even enter the shop, how would he choose a ring? How the hell would he manage to propose? 

Once inside, he took off his beanie and shook his hair out, glancing around the store. It was warm and quiet, filled with dazzling amounts of jewelry. 

All the hesitation he had felt left him at once, and he knew he had to do this. He knew this was right, and he knew fairly quickly which ring he was going to get you. He left, walking along the street and back to the Three Broomsticks. He entered Diagon Alley, determined to now find a decent fake gift. 

On Friday night, you closed the tin for some cookies you had been baking all day, wrapping the tin in a deep red bow. You tucked it under your arm, lifting the gift bag with yours and George’s secret Santa gifts. George was waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a handsome sweater and brown corduroy pants, smiling widely at you. 

George had been frighteningly happy recently, though you supposed he was just in the Christmas spirit.

You apparated to the Weasley house, just outside the front door. You raised your hand to knock, but George was already slamming it open with the full force of his shoulder. You followed him inside, glancing apologetically at Molly as she rushed over to hug you both. 

“Finally!” she released George and moved onto you, hugging you with a strong grip, “My babies are all home!”

You noticed everyone else had already arrived, gathered around the ground floor of the house. Teddy Lupin and Victoire stood in the kitchen with Fleur and Bill, laughing while Bill hid bits and pieces of food in his wife’s hair. Ron and Hermione sat on the couch with Rose bundled in Hermione’s arms, Ron waving his fingers in her face with a dazed look on his own. Harry bounced James on his knee as he sat at the table next to Ginny, who cradled Albus in her hands as she and Harry listened to Arthur talk about his new muggle discoveries. Percy was standing behind his mother, holding his daughter’s hand as she swayed on her feet, just learning to walk.

Molly held your arms, looking down at what you had brought.

“Did you make these, dear?” she took the tin from your hands, smiling wider when you nodded and brought them to the kitchen. 

George took the gift bag from you and moved it to the tree, making his greetings at everyone he passed.

You went to the kitchen, catching Bill’s eye and smiling back at him.

“Y/n!” he called, spreading his arms out to you and pulled you into him. You hugged Fleur, picking the food from her hair as she scolded Bill jokingly. 

“Hey Teddy,” you said, placing a hand on the top of his head, “you’ve gotten so tall!”

It was true, the young boy had already shot up like a bean-post, the top of his head stopping at your waist. His bright blue hair stood out even more the higher it got. He looked strikingly like his parents, you thought, with a sad smile.

“Hullo,” he said joyously, leaning into your side and giving you a hug.

“Hiya, Aunt Y/n,” Victoire called from beside Teddy, though a good size smaller, and coming to your other side to clutch at your legs as she hugged you.

“What’re you guys making?” you asked them, looking at the food scattered across the counter Victoire could barely see over. You lifted her up, balancing her on your hip and still keeping a hand on Teddy’s head.

“No idea,” Bill joked from beside you, now putting food in Victoire’s strawberry blonde hair, “having too much fun to care.”

You laughed, and Teddy looked up from your side at Victoire’s now food covered hair. Fleur reached over Bill to swat his hands away, cleaning her daughter’s hair.

“I brought those cookies you guys like,” Bill, Teddy, and Victoire’s eyes lit up, all of them looking around to find them.

“After dinner, you lot,” Molly said as she came into the kitchen, swatting the back of Bill’s head.

She came to your side, reaching for Victoire, and you gladly shifted her over. Teddy seemed consumed in whatever he was making, his brows furrowed in concentration. You left the kitchen, going to the kitchen table where Harry, Ginny, and Arthur still were, along with the children.

James’ face lit up once he saw you, and he held his arms out to you with grabbing hands. He nearly wiggled out of Harry’s grip, and Harry seemed all too happy to hand him over to you once you sat down next to Ginny.

“Hey, love,” she said, bending to kiss your cheek in greeting. You kissed hers, smiling widely at Harry and Arthur. You leaned down to kiss James’ cheek too, sending him into a fit of giggles that made Harry swoon from beside you.

“How are you, James?” you cooed at him, only to be answered with baby noises. You knew it wasn’t approved of, but you did have favorites. Teddy and James had a special place in your heart.

Arthur balanced his chin on his palm, gazing at his grandchildren.

“Happy Christmas,” he said, smiling at you and James.

“Happy Christmas,” you said back, now looking over at Albus who was sleeping in Ginny’s arms.

“Oi,” she said, leaning forward to look at her husband, “your turn, Potter.”

Harry chuckled, standing to retrieve Albus gently from his wife. 

“I’m gonna put him upstairs, let him get his rest,” Harry whispered, even though it made no difference compared to the noisy house around them.

Ginny nodded, looking happy to have empty arms for a second. James was still content in your arms, so you decided to stay for a moment, at least until Harry came back. James seemed to have other plans though, eventually making grabbing hands at his grandfather. Arthur seemed to have been waiting for this moment, immediately lighting up and reaching for James. You stood, obliging James’ wishes, and bent to talk to Ginny.

“I’ll be right back, gonna go say ‘hi’ to Ron and Hermione,” Ginny only hummed in response, busy watching her son sit on her father’s lap.

You walked into the living room, where Ron was now holding Rose. Hermione seemed to be sifting through a very full diaper bag, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it had an extending charm. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Ron said when he saw you, his tired face lifting in an energetic smile.

Your eyes moved to the spit-up on his shoulder, and you smiled back at him, amused at his joy.

“Hi, happy Christmas,” you said sitting next to Ron so you could look at Rose. 

“Oh,” Hermione looked up, holding a clean towel in her hands, “hello, dear, didn’t see you.” 

You smiled at her, leaning over Ron to squeeze her hand in somewhat of a greeting. You looked at Rose, fast asleep in Ron’s arms.

“Harry’s just put Albus to sleep upstairs, I’m sure you could put Rose up there, too, if you wanted,” you whispered, careful not to wake the baby.

“Did he?” Hermione said hopefully, then she cast a knowing look at Ron.

“Up I go,” he said with no hesitation, standing carefully from the couch.

Hermione slumped down, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “This shit is hard.”

You both laughed, and eventually, Ginny and George joined you in the living room.

Ginny held a glass of what looked like an alcoholic drink, smirking at Hermione’s pained look. “Stopped breastfeeding the other day. Good to be back,” Ginny downed her drink, laughing more when Hermione groaned in what you assumed was jealousy.

George had settled into the couch next to you, wrapping his arm around you as he cradled a beer in his hand. You took it from him, stealing a sip and laughing at his groan that was similar to Hermione’s.

“Y/n!” three pairs of stomping feet sounded into the living room, matched with happy giggles. Teddy stood in front of you, James’ tiny hand clutched in his as he helped him stand and walk. Teddy was more dragging James than letting him walk on his own, but Ginny nor James seemed to mind. Victoire was not far behind, stumbling on her own feet as she crashed into your legs.

George picked her up, settling her on his lap and delving into a discussion about how pretty her dress was.

“I made this for you,” Teddy said, holding out a gingerbread cookie that was dripping in enormous amounts of frosting.

“Wow,” you said, carefully taking the cookie, “Teddy, this looks amazing.”

He smiled proudly, barely noticing James retracting his hand and crawling over to his mother. Teddy simply crawled into your lap, nearly too big to do so, and looked down at the cookie in your hands.

“Will you try it?” he said, smiling widely.

You looked down at the cookie, then at Teddy. It looked like a stomach ache waiting to happen, and you tried to think of an excuse not to eat it without hurting his feelings. Suddenly, however, George was leaning over and taking a large bite from the cookie. He then stole the rest of the cookie with his free hand, holding it up to your face. You playfully scolded him, then smiled sweetly at Teddy. George only made you take a small bite, holding out one of the legs with the littlest amount of frosting. You ate it, moaning in delight and nodding your head at Teddy. He swelled with pride, smiling smugly up at you.

You all sat in the living room like that until Molly called everyone to dinner. The table had been moved outside, per usual, and extended to fit everyone. Molly was a firm believer in not having a kid’s table, so the children who could walk rushed to their desired seats. Arthur and Percy sat at the heads of the table, and everyone scattered from there. You and George sat in the middle, and George had to rush to beat James from stealing his spot next to you. Teddy sat to your left, George to your right, and when you weren’t cutting Teddy’s food, George was jokingly pestering you to cut his. 

The dinner was as lively as always, and the cold air was barred away by a spell Arthur had done around the house. 

Soon, it was time for secret Santa. Molly magically cleared the table, something that made Teddy swoon beside you, and then magically transported all the gifts to the table. She levitated the first one from the bag, and the exchanges started from there. 

Fleur had been your secret Santa, and she got you a compilation of books you had mentioned wanting. You thanked her from across the table, showing Teddy and reading to him what he didn’t understand. You watched everyone else get their presents, going one at a time, and finally, with no presents left, Molly levitated your gift to Ginny from the bag.

Ginny smiled widely and immediately put on both the cardigan and the sweater, standing and coming to hug you from behind. 

Soon, a large box wrapped in white paper was levitated in front of you. You hadn’t been keeping track of who’s gifts were from who, even though you should have been, and unwrapped the box quickly. Inside was a lovely, blooming plant with bright flowers and a lovely ceramic pot. You lifted it carefully, hearing Molly gasp in delight when she saw it. Then, you heard a round of gasps and looked up from the plant, confused as to why everyone was so surprised by some flowers.

You quickly understood, though, that they had not gasped at the flowers.

Beside you, with his chair pushed away and on his knee, George propped open a small box. It held a gorgeous ring, and you felt your eyes water before you could even take a breath. You hadn’t let him get a word in, and you knew he had a whole speech planned, and collapsed out of your chair and into George’s arms.

He stumbled, nearly falling backward, but wrapped his arms around you. You pulled away, only enough to see the ring he cradled in between your chests, and let out a happy sob. George did too, and you looked up to see his cheeks were wet. You pressed your forehead to his, wiping his cheeks and laughing. You kissed him, hard, but barely managed to because you couldn’t stop smiling. 

He pulled away, carefully holding your hand in his shaking hands, and slid the ring onto your finger. You heard clapping around you, and you remembered the rest of your family there. Hermione and Molly had tears running down their faces, and all the children were bouncing in their seats with the energy, not entirely sure of what was happening. Ginny was by your side first, hugging you again, and then George. This broke the flood gates and soon everyone was wrapping either you or George in their arms.

You longed to touch George, but hugged everyone back, just the same, until finally, you could hug your fiancé. 

“Happy Christmas,” George said, his face buried in your neck as he hugged you tightly.

“Happy Christmas,” you replied, holding your arm out and looking at your ring from behind George’s back. “God, George, you have impeccable taste.”

He laughed, pulling apart from you and gazing down at you, “Don’t I know it.”

[spacegirlapollo]

Can’t Be Friends [Dazai x Reader Smut]

Dazai x Reader Smutty One shot 

4,000+ words

Summary: After the death of his beloved friend, Dazai can’t trust love. But then you come bumbling into the picture and he can’t resist falling for you. 

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

Dazai had always been fascinated by magnets, that somewhere written deep in the earth's rules, it had been decided that two objects would eternally be bound together if fate allows them to. On the other hand they could push the other away, with the same ease. 

He’s lived his life like a magnet, especially after Oda’s death. He couldn’t help it, although he desperately tried to not care about others it was simply impossible. To fulfill Oda’s dying wishes , he had to care about the people around him. He dared not admit it but he cared. He cared about Kunikida and the others at the agency. He especially cared about Atsushi and thought quite often of Chuuya and Akutagawa and how they were faring. To many souls to think about. So he cared, drawing them all in like magnets, connecting and then turning away pushing back against them when they got to close. 

And at the center of it all was you. You were the crowning jewel in his grand hall of people he cared about, thought and worried and languished about. You reminded him of Oda sometimes. And if he squinted at you maybe he could see Oda’s piercing eyes and not so easy smile.

He was in love with you, that much was sure, and it was a secret, to everyone but him. He was much too smart to not understand his longing for you, the way his heart rate picked up at your closeness and he often found himself longing to hear your voice. 

He didn’t think it would happen to him of all people. Sure he loved Oda, and he wasn’t sure if it was just as friends either, but this was different. 

He’d met you almost immediately after his return to society, now on the side of the “good guys”. You were Fukizawa’s niece and a fixture at the agency. He wondered often how long his stay at the agency would have been had it not been for you. 

In the beginning, Dazai couldn’t help himself, he had absolutely no self control over his magnets and the two of you connected, making quick friends. Wherever you went he would gladly follow. 

Then you’d been attacked, remnants of Dazai’s past life finally rearing consequences upon you. You’d nearly died, even though you were a force to recon with in battle. Fukizawa had been the one to save you in the end. It was salt over Dazai’s wound that you were hurt because of him, and he hadn’t been there to save you. 

It was a hard way to learn a lesson. To be smacked in the face with his universal truth. Everyone he gets close to will die, and it’ll be his fault. 

You weren’t so easy to push away though, ripping you from his life was taking a piece of his soul slowly, and besides he’d promised to be good and the Agency was the best place for that. So he stayed, but your friendship suffered in its wake. You got the message eventually, not bothering to call upon him at midnight anymore and late night trips for food had stopped. 

You’d never let on how it made you feel, and that somehow was worse for Dazai. 

He’d thought you’d replace him, he was mentally prepared to see you and Kunikida laughing At the lunch table. But it was more often that you’d head to lunch alone, or leave work alone. 

With newcomer Atsushi, things changed a little. You’d taken a strong liking to the boy, and he could tell you’d adopted Atsushi, as If you were his mother or aunt or something. Fretting and worrying. Dazai could see that the two of you were co-parenting in a way. 

Then Kyouka came and you and Atsushi’s time spent together became less, and you ate alone once again. 

Dazai observed this all as if he was peering into a fish bowl. Observing the lives of others and indirectly interacting with them but never jumping into the water. He thought himself clever. No one would know how much he loved you. That was until simple, observant Atsushi said something. 

“Dazai-San?” 

“Yeah?” 

They were both sitting in the open floor plan area of the agency, paperwork stacking high between the two of them. On his part Atsushi was trying to conquer the work while Dazai was listening in to your conversation with Kunikida from across the room. You were laughing, and Dazai thought maybe this was it, you were finally replacing him. Good. 

“Uh…” 

Dazai lifted his eyes from you and his partner to rest upon Atsushi, whose voice was uncertain. Dazai had learned from day two, that he should listen to Atsushi, who occasionally sculpted diamonds from words. 

Atsushi tensed with Dazai’s eyes upon him. 

“I was just .... “ he sighed and swallowed his voice coming out low and a whisper. 

“Are you and Y/N dating?” 

Dazai blinked. Not responding, although that might give away more than he would have liked. 

“It’s just that.” Atsushi seemed even more unnerved by Dazai’s non answer, seeing as the brown hair boy loved to talk. 

“You always look up when she enters a room, like you know she’s there. You always stare at each other when you think the other isn’t looking.” Atsushi’s voice faded off. “Stuff- stuff like that.” 

Dazai was half stuck thinking that he’d made a good choice of Atsushi for the Agency, and the other half was thinking about what he’d said. - staring at each other.- 

You looked at him too? 

“S-sorry.” Atsushi said, fearing he’d said too much. He had but that was fine. 

“Am I really that easy to read?” Dazai asked his eyes back on you and Kunikida. Kunikida was blushing as you walked away, his eyes firmly on your lower back side. Dazai felt a feeling stirring in him. But he shoved it down harsly. There was no place for those feelings to show. 

Atsushi shook his head. “No, you're quite hard to read. Dazai-San. Y/N is much easier to read, once I understood why she looks at you like that I realized you were looking at her the same way.”

Diamonds. Dazai thought , Atsushi was capable of making diamonds. 

————-

It was the fall time, the leaves had departed from their family tree or changed colors and the roads of Yokahama were cold and filled with that feeling you only got during the coming of winter. 

Dazai had to work late, once Kunikida found out just how behind he was on his work, Dazai had been essentially chained to his desk. He could tell there were a few people left in the office as some lights were still on. Signing the last page he sighed standing up immediately, Kunikida would be satisfied with his progress and he could pick it up again on Monday, although he was secretary hoping for a case to come and push the paperwork to the side. 

He tucked his hands in his pocket and made his way outside. It was a moment later that he realized that it was raining. The door to the cafe closed behind him and he stood under the awning, thinking with dread about walking through the rain to the subway station.

“No umbrella ?” You asked, and Dazai wasn’t sure how you’d been standing there that whole time and he did not notice. He turned to you his heart thudding rhythmically in his chest. You were as beautiful as ever, and you looked warm, swathed in faux fur jackets. He thought about how wonderful it would feel to lay in your lap and feel your fingers through his hair. 

You turned away from him breaking his guilty illusion and rummaged around in your bag. You pulled out an umbrella, identical to the one you were already holding. You extended it out to him with a smile playing on your lips. 

“You never carry an umbrella, Dazai.” 

His name on your lips was joy, he realized as his lips parted in surprise. You knew him entirely too well and Atsushi was starting to as well. How had he failed so spectacularly in pushing people away. 

He took the umbrella, unable to stop the smile on his face. 

“Why would I ,Y/N when I always have you to have an extra for me?” He teased. He couldn’t help it, months of pushing you away and he was cracking like an egg from a simple gesture. 

Your eyes met and he saw the faintest blush upon your cheeks. He wanted to kiss you. Badly. He blinked and looked away. This wouldn’t do, he needed to get home and fast. 

He would let his mind slip for one night, maybe have a drink or two and stroke himself, your name hanging off his lips like smoke to a cigarette. That’s what he would do. He just needed to get to the station now. 

“Dazai?” 

Your words were soft but firm. The way you sounded when you’d gathered up all tour couraged and readied yourself for a fight. 

He turned back to you, and your eyes shone with determination. 

“Let’s go get dinner together.” 

————-

Dinner, was located in a small corner of Yokohama, that only the locals seemed to know about. You either lived there or crashed there by accident. The restaurant was a hole in the wall, quite literally. It was an interesting place, made of stone and brick, with no real windows or doors, just, holes in the stone. It reminded Dazai of an old century oven, it had a large awning covering to keep the rain from the tables out front. Strings of light were laced around the stone building illuminating it in the darkness of the Yokahama streets. 

It was a place that the both of you were familiar with, having spent many nights here, sipping hot tea and talking. Upon seeing it for the first time in months, Dazai saw just how romantic the place really was and was regretting his decision to follow you here. 

Now seated you picked up the menu and started to scan it. 

“You already know what you want. Y/N” Dazai said amused. “You always order the same thing.” 

His smile grew as you put down the menu and glared at his teasing. “What if I wanted something different this time.” 

“Hell would freeze over Y/N. And the flying pigs would be out as soon as the rain stopped.” 

You scoffed cutely. “just for that I’m ordering something different.” 

“I wouldn’t.” Dazai said, “ you remember the last time you were adventurous.” 

Your eyes were wide with embarrassment. 

“You swore you would never bring it up!” 

“To anyone else.” Dazai corrected. He thought back on the time you’d ordered something new, and were so sick he’d brought you home, and had to hold your hair as you puked over the toilet. Obviously embarrassing for you but a fondly domestic memory for Dazai. 

The waitress interrupted whatever you were going to say next and further Dazai’s amusement you ordered your regular. 

“Dazai” you said after the waitress had collected your orders and it had been quiet for a while. Dazai’s heart started to thump again, the real reason you’d asked him to come to dinner was coming. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. 

You had that look again, that stored up courage look. “ Let’s be friends again.”

He wasn’t sure if this was on his list of things he expected you to say. Some irrational part of his thought this would be your announcement of your engagement to Kunikida which he would have congratulated you on and then left to get very very drunk. 

Your fists were clenched in your lap as you forced yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry… if I did something wrong, and that’s why you stopped wanting to be around me. If I was - annoying or something I can-“

“Y/N” you blinked almost jerking at Dazai’s sudden harsh tone. He was angry, suddenly, 

“You could never annoy me.” 

The statement hung heavy in the air like cement. 

“And you don’t have anything to apologize for.” He tried to soften his voice as he wasn’t angry at you. He was more angry at himself. That’s why you thought he’d pushed you away? 

“Then why-“

“We can’t be friends.. Y/N” better to cut this off now. A few drinks was sounding better by the second. He dared a glance at your face and regretted it. You looked shattered, then confused, then angry. He hadn’t really seen you angry. It was beautiful in a way. 

A hot tear pressed down your cheek and you angrily wiped it away. 

“Why.” You asked now a wobble in your otherwise hard tone. 

“It’s better to remain professional in the workplace.” Dazai offered up, it was weak but his mind was spinning so his normal snake charming words were not coming to him. 

“Bullshit.” You said leaning forward. “You're not that way with anyone else in the agency. Hell you're not professional at all.” 

Dazai smiled at this, despite how heavy he was feeling.

“That’s fair.” He said softly. 

“Stop fucking with me Dazai.” You said anger still dripping over your tone although you were trying to keep it down since others were around. 

“One night were drunk together and up till 4am telling each other everything and the next week you stopped talking to me.” 

Your voice broke at the end of that. Another angry tear wipe. You pointed at him now.

“You let me in, you let me see you, and now you're going to pretend like we weren’t something?”

“Yes.” Dazai said with an edge . “ yes I am going to pretend.” 

“Why!” Your voice went a little higher than a regular speaking voice drawing a few more eyes but neither of you cared. There was only the person sitting in front of the other. 

“Because Y/N. I don’t want to be just friends.” Dazai felt like a popped balloon, that air just coming out of him rapidly. Years of holding that very phrase in and here he was whisper- shouting it at you in his favorite hole in the wall. That was only his favorite because of his memories with you. 

He kept going now, no sense in stopping now. “ I want to hold your hand, to kiss you, to be the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. I want to hold you when you're sad, and tease you when you do something embarrassing. I want you to fill up my life with your light” it was a mouthful, and Dazai sighed, looking up at you now, your face in shock. 

You smiled suddenly, another tear falling but you didn’t make a move to wipe it away.

“I don’t want to be just friends either Dazai.” You said and he felt his heart starting its kathunk kathunk in his chest again. 

“I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way as I did. But I wanted to be near you. And things were so great when we were friends. And then we stopped and I thought at least I could still be around you. But I don’t want that it’s not enough. Just being around you, just being your friend isn’t enough. I want to be with you. Dazai.”

Dazai swallowed hard, if Atsushi’s words were diamonds you were like the rain. Cleansing away the unsightly parts of himself that he hated, he picked at. Soothing the old wounds that he’d left open as punishment to himself. 

“We can’t… I can’t….” Dazai couldn’t finish. He looked up to you. “Every Time I love someone they die.” He shook his head slightly. “and I won’t lose you too.” 

He thought then of Oda. He still couldn’t decide how he’d loved the man, there was a seed there, growing, and if he’d had more time, Dazai thinks he could have figured it out. Did he love Oda the way he loved Atshushi or Kunikida or did he love Oda the way he’d loved you?

But for Oda to be alive, and Dazai to have an answer to that question, Dazai needed to have removed himself from Oda’s life.

 Dazai’s thoughts of Oda evaporated as he felt the warm touch of your hand to his. He looked up at you then, your eyes a calm steady sea to his stormy brooding ones.

He wanted to steal you away from the others eyes, take you somewhere safe where only he could gaze upon you. Strange feelings from someone who spent so much effort in not caring. 

“You're a good person, Dazai.” You said. “I’ve seen it, I’ve seen your soul. Death is not the punishment for love. Life takes who she wants when she wants regardless of who we love and what we want. I’d rather die, having known your love than live forever without it.” 

He kissed you then, over the tea that had gone cold, besides the people who were pretending not to listen to your conversation. The only thing he could hear was the sounds of rain dancing on the canopy above your heads. 

———

Somehow the both of you knew that going home alone wasn’t an option. As the hole in the wall was closest to your place, it was decided without speaking that that is where you would go. You walked there holding hands. 

Dazai’s mind was spinning with thoughts of your kiss, thoughts of you he’d tried to keep down but it wasn’t working and his pants were stiffening. 

You’d looked at him, one look, that set him on fire. And as you crossed into your apartment threshold, he couldn’t seem to grab enough of you. The umbrella he’d borrowed from you was on the floor, along with your  pretty coat, leaving wet stains on the floor. You were pressed between him in the wall, your hands deep into his tresses as he kissed you, his hands gripping almost painfully at your sides. 

He pressed his lower body up against you unable to control the moan that came from his mouth at the contact of his hardened self against you.

“I need you.” He breathed out sounding so impossibly vulnerable.

“You have me.” You said between kisses, and so he did, his wide palms sliding below your waist end scooping you into the air, your legs wrapped around his lanky figure. 

He carried you to your room, my memory as you had yet to stop kissing him, and he couldn’t see. 

When he was there you fell into the bed, soft covers swallowing you up. He had thoughts to tease you, to take things slow, and feel every single moment of this. But as his fingers seperated your pants buttons and found their way to your core he couldn’t stop himself from pleasuring you. 

Your moans were honey, as he slid down your clothing and his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands had traveled to his hair and the other was gripping his arm which was around your waist keeping your hips down to the bed. 

He wanted more from you working his tongue and fingers at a devastating pace. His cock painful in his pants at your honey dripped moans. His hand pressed down hard against your waist as you bucked against his face, sweat beading on your chest, it felt terribly good. 

“Daz-“ you choked out as you reached your end, your hand pulling at the base of his roots causing him to moan into your pussy. 

You couldn’t hold back your moan as you came, hard and fast, cheeks hot as he kept going riding you through your orgasm. 

Dazai felt your body go limp after you came, and he stood up reaching to unbutton his shirt but then your hands over lapped his and you began to remove his shirt. His lips were on your again as your removed his clothes. 

Dazai let out a small noise of surprise when you turned and pushed him towards the bed. He went willingly though his eyes half lidded in lust as you crawled over to him straddling his waist. He was taking you in, and fuck if he couldn’t come now just looking at you. 

You leaned forward ticking a finger under his chin and guiding his lips back to yours. Dazai felt his control slipping but he didn’t mind. He wanted to be yours, all yours. You could do whatever you wanted to him.

“Let me make you feel good.”’you whispered 

He hissed as you sank slowly down onto him your warmth wrapping around him like a vice. Damnit.

You moved again rising up your hips and bringing them back down at an agonizingly slow pace. This whole time he’d thought to tease you and it was you teasing him. 

Almost as if you were reading his mind you smirked dipping slower to kiss his neck. Dazai jerked, another moan on his lips as you kissed at his newly discovered sensitive spot. 

You’d hip were starting to pick up the pace a bit, sucking hard against his neck. Your pace and attack on his neck was torture, the best kind. 

His hands gripped your ass tightly now as you rode him, biting deeply against his neck. With each slap of skin you moved faster, Dazai felt like he could explode, and maybe he would. 

He couldn’t help himself, his hips snapping up into you suddenly causing you to throw your head back and moan. Oh yes he wanted more of that. 

Your hands fell to his chest as he fucked you, his dick pressing up against that spot that was making you unravel. 

In one swift motion he’d switched the flow and you were on your back again, and he was in between you. Your hands flew around his neck as he re-entered you. 

“Mhfph” you choked out as he pressed deep into you, moaning your name sweetly into your ear. 

He was one with you, as close as his magnet could reach, and though the fear of losing you still loomed in his mind, Dazai was in true bliss. 

You were close, that feeling of knitting in your stomach, his strong deep strokes had left you gasping. 

“Osamu” you crooned, and he looked down at you now. 

“Say that again.” He breathed out. 

Dazai felt like he was going to unravel, right as you’d said his name, the way it slipped from your mouth had his heart racing. 

He thrusted faster , kissing along your neck now. 

“Say it, say it again.” He moaned out.

“Mmm Osamu, “ you repeated his name over and over again like a holy chant. “Please.” 

His strokes were coming uneven, as he leaned down to take your sweet lips with his again, fucking hell he was going to come now, in the woman he’d loved for years. 

“Come with me.” He breathed out and you nodded rapidly, he pressed his forehead to yours as you felt yourself come apart at the edges. Sweeping in nothing but pleasure you both came.

“Osamu!” You cried out eyes shut in ecstasy. 

———-

Neither of you could be bothered to leave the bed. Dazai was holding you to his chest, your face in the crook of his neck, your heartbeats matching each other’s. 

“You know it’s too late for you now right?” You whispered, his fingers playing with your hair. 

Dazai smiled. “It was too late for me since the moment we met.” 

You chuckled softly, “that’s so cheesy.” 

Dazai chuckled back, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Yeah to bad you’ve got to deal with it from now on.”

“I love you, Osamu” Dazai heard you say, and even if he maybe thought he knew you did, it was different to hear you say it. He felt like he could break into a million pieces. Some stone cold bastard he was, he was absolute putty in your hands. 

“I love you to, Y/N” 

[lostysworld]

My dar(k) ling – The Darkling × reader

Part 13

Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: none?

Summary: Another fete, another challenge for you and Aleksander. Another person between you and the man you love.

– What the hell is that?

You step on the training ground that you usually keep during archery trainings with young grisha. But seems this time your today's training started without you. Instead of empty space on your usual place a tall young woman is standing next to the line of targets with children not far from them.

Unfortunately, Baghra is here too.

– I found a replacement for you for this day, - the old woman waves her hand and a dark-haired woman sends a suspicious glance towards your side.

– Once it's for a day, and then for a life.

Baghra only rolls her eyes on your barely audible mumbling. When she brings you closer to that woman, you realize you've seen her before during trainings.

– It's Zoya, one of the best grisha in the Second Army.

You trace her slim figure in navy blue kefta with critical glance, waiting patiently for her any reaction. Not that you are against new people, but definitely not today, the day after your latest conversation with the general.

– Zoya Nazyalensky. A Squaller, - she extends her arm for a handshake, and you notice familiar pattern on her sleeve and smirk.

– Yes, I can see that.

Nevertheless, you extend yours in response, with a blank expression.

– She will train them, - Baghra nods towards kids. – While I am dealing with you, young lady.

– What else? - you grit your teeth in annoyance. You still have some lessons with Baghra, but usually they are about one and the same.

– I'm not done abusing you. Not yet.

– I am done.

– What? - the woman raises her brow and stops, turning to you.

– I don't need your lessons anymore. Though I'm grateful for the things you taught me, Baghra.

– Did my son brainwashed you with his teary puppy eyes-

– He has nothing to do with it. I just learned everything I wanted.

You already turn to leave her on the gardens' line, but the old witch doesn't intend to let you go.

– Your ancestors could do incredible things, and you only learned how to summon two elements and think, that you can outdo those grisha, who are here from the childhood.

You freeze on one spot, slowly exhaling and inhaling to calm yourself down. With one swift movement you are standing in front of her again.

– Air I can summon is still in your lungs, so be careful with your words, Baghra.

The corner of her lips twitches, as if she's waiting for a reaction like this. When the first wave of rage passes you relax a bit and you step back.

–And I still think that you are wasting your time here.

– What should I do? - you throw a glance to her, throwing arms to the sides in grim surprise. – To destroy the Fold with my hands?

– It's time for youto decide whose side you are on, girl. Are you with Aleksander, or you are helping to destroy him from the inside.

Your blood turns cold. No wonder, Aleksander became so impulsive with a mother like that.

– As far as I know, the boy still trusts you, Y/N.

– It is the perfect reason for me not to trust you.

The woman shakes her head, seeing the girl in front of her as a lost one for her to save. Worse that her son's influence is her own stubbornness and youth.

– What was Aleksander like? - you draw her attention. – Before the Fold.

– He laughed... A lot.

– Well, he seemed to do this with me either.

– That's what I am talking about, - she comes closer to you making you flinch. – You may bring some light to his life, but you won't change him.

Nonsense. You shake your head. Every new conversation with Baghra leads both of you to her attempts to turn you against the general. Every time. Always.

– I would never ask him to change-

– But it doesn't mean you won't want him to, Y/N. He is used to ruin people who are dear to him.

You lower your gaze, observing the ground. Loud noises from the training ground reach your hearing. Seems Zoya entertains young grisha more than you.

– Well, - you take a step back to show the woman, that your conversation is over. – Seems, my life has been already ruined before I met Aleksander.

The woman scans you with a mixture of judgment and motherly adoration in her eyes.

– There will be no happiness between you, if you are so alike on this point.

– Be that as it may, - with only one sentence Baghra gets to set your mood up and down.

As soon as she nods towards your side, you turn away, heading to the palace, passing by the training ground. Your head is full of useless information and whirlwind of emotions, so you at least can be used as a bad example of a trainer now.

When you get closer to your room, where Genya should meet you to try the fete dress on, you notice a familiar figure behind you. Even not turning your head, you know who it is.

– That's what the general meant, when was talking about constant pressure.

Ivan smirks smugly to himself.

– Oh, shut up, please! - you reach the door and halt to face the intrusive heartrender behind you.

– I am not a little girl, I can cope with it.

– And I am glad to hear it, - his face just perfectly shows how he enjoys himself at the moment.

– Shouldn't you look after your husband, hm?

– He is not my husband-

– Well, he should be.

With that you slam the door in front of Ivan's face, making him drop this mean smile from his face. If you two go on with communicating like this, you will become besties for sure.

You have never felt yourself so stupid and uncomfortable in your entire life like right at the moment, standing near the wall of the ballroom.

Genya abandoned you about a half an hour ago, and you are standing looking at the only one person here, that may draw your attention.

Aleksander spends his time discussing something with lieutenants on the opposite side of the room. Seems he is not interested in the fete or, what's most important, in you.

Not this gorgeous dress you are wearing, not your hairstyle, nothing can make the man turn his glance on your. After your last conversation none of you dared to speak with each other or look at.

Most of dates to the dance are already preoccupied with their partners, and you have only to throw sympathetic glances to Fedyor and Ivan, where one of them sometimes salutes you with a champagne glass by turns.

Not that you are just standing alone, some of familiar grisha join you from time to time having a small talk. And you may even easily escape from this party, but the chance that Genya will catch you somewhere in the corridors is pretty high and unpleasant.

But one small detail doesn't go unnoticed for you. Only couple of seconds ago the music becomes quieter, and you casts a quick glance towards the orchestra. There from their side, Aleksander is looking straight at you.

But it is not a problem at all. This detail doesn't seem to you; as soon as you follow others' glances with yours you notice a person coming to you.

The one you don't expect to see next to ever.

White coat with golden epaulettes, blond short hair and unusual charming smile instead of dull glassy glance.

Vasily Lantsov is walking straight to your side.

People around are not used to see the part of the royal family dancing with someone at parties like this one, so even musicians slow down a bit.

You are not nervous, but the whole scene is like not happening with you, so you just watch.

– Miss Y/L/N, may I have the pleasure of the dance?

His voice pitch is not high, not low, but something in the middle, although not unpleasant to hear.

You hesitate, but feeling of the general's burning glance on your figure makes you smirk slightly and nod, laying your hand in prince's one.

The music halts, but when the young man leads you to the center of the ballroom, it starts again with new force. The constant thoughts, that you are the only couple now and everybody is looking at both of you vanish as soon as Vasily's hand lays on your waistline, pressing you closer to him.

He doesn't talk, but the man is always looking at you, attentively, with the hidden interest, and you unconsciously compare this dance to your first one with general. It is stupid, because, honestly, it's nothing compared to the first fete.

You were kind of in love, charmed by a handsome stately man, who you trust with your life, and what's now?

Lost, without direction, still in love, but more love than in love, you are dancing with the prince, but not enjoying it. Though the dress is charming. With long waves it waltzes with your every movement, black and red.

Your lips touches a one sided smirk and you can only imagine what an impression this dance has on Aleksander. Surely, his subordinates will have a hard day tomorrow.

Fortunately for you, the music stops soon and the man, as a perfect gentleman, lets go of your palm and smiles in the end. You curtsy and step towards another wall, closer to the exit. One dance is pretty enough for tonight.

But when you intend to leave the room, someone's hand wraps around your wrist, slightly squeezing it, and you turn around immediately.

Lantsov doesn't go away, but stands still peering at you.

– Would you like to join me this evening, miss Y/L/N? - your eyes narrow in suspicion. Carefully you try to take your hand away from him.

– Don't think me to be rude, your Highness, but you are not known for spending time with ladies.

The young man smirks to you and you literally feel that burning gaze from another side of the room.

– I am not, but you will rescue me, if do that, - you clearly don't understand his intentions and wince.

– Otherwise, I will be sentenced to never-ending grumbling of my mother about searching for a bride.

– Oh...

– "Oh" indeed.

You barely hold yourself from chuckling, but the the prince steps closer to you, and suddenly you think that this scene can be used as a motivation. Of course, not for you.

– What do I get out of it? - you take his hand, that Vasily gladly offers to you.

– A way out of your difficult situation.

His words lit a sparkle inside of your mind, your thoughts find a common point, and you switch your interested gaze on him.

He waits for a second and casts a glance on that side where the general should be, but you decide not to test your luck, and keep staring right at the blond man in front of you.

Suddenly you remember that the ring Aleksander gave you with the letter is left in your room, on a night stand.

A nasty rotten feeling crawls inside you and all your previous thoughts vanish away.

When you turn to the direction where Kirigan stood, you see no one. There is definitely not a good sign, and you quickly look around to sneak out of the hall without Genya noticing you.

You excuse yourself and runs out of the ballroom. All this evening leaves your head full of conflicting thoughts and feelings, so you just need more fresh air.

Usually it's Aleksander who comes to your room either to make up or to take his time alone while your sleeping. But something is telling you that this day is not one of them. You need to talk to him first.

The door behind general's back slams loudly, he can even hear some of the pictures on the walls shaking. Everything in the war room is left like it was before he left for the fete. But the man isn't the same.

He ruffles his hair, exhaling tensely, marching from one corner to another in strange mix of helpless rage and jealousy.

He doesn't know, what is going on with him. All these day it was not so hard not to pay attention to this girl, and now, when Lantsov shared a dance with her, the Darkling is furious.

He unconsciously registers his own shadows crawling to his figure from the darkest sides of the room. If he goes on like this, he will surely have troubles with controlling his powers in future, leaving it to his anger.

The full moon is in the night skies and millions of glittering stars are shining radiating a slight pale light. The sudden thought of leaving the palace and having a night stroll dies with a barely audible knock.

Not many people afford themselves a luxury of disturbing the general so late at night, but anyway he heads to the door.

He opens the door rapidly and he blesses himself for wearing a usual cold mask, the general doesn't give his surprise away.

– Zoya? To what do I owe your esteemed company?

The girl's hesitating, but determined expression almost makes him smile, but he holds himself back.

– You left the fete so soon, I was afraid something happened.

Aleksander steps aside inviting her in. Honesty, he may even use this night visit to forget his predicament, but something holds him back. Something is telling him, it is not his way out.

Unconsciously his hand slips into the pocket of his kefta, fingers find the ring of black metal and green stones. He knows the similar one is somewhere here, in Y/N's room.

But when the squaller walks in further into the room, straight to the table, both of them hear one more knock. Loud, clear one. Aleksander will never mistake him for any other.

– Come in!

He doesn't busy himself opening the door, and when it's opened by the woman he is afraid to see, Kirigan finds himself enjoying the moment.

– Am I interrupting? - the witch's cold voice rings in the tense silence of the place, as she cocks her head to the side. Zoya straightens her shoulders.

– I was just keeping company with the general Kirigan, - the man follows Y/N arching a brow without any other visible signs of displeasure. – People tell it helps when you are alone. Isn't it convenient? You should know about it.

Venom in Zoya's voice is clear, but it's not enough for freaking the young woman out.

– Yes, I'm forgetting all my troubles the moment someone breaks into my chambers in the middle of the night.

Kirigan presses his lips in thin line, trying not to smile or smirk. Despite this difficult situation and visible intentions of Zoya towards him, he can't not to admire his forest witch. The little girl turns into his queen. It's just her character, that doesn't let her admit it.

– Zoya is already leaving, - Aleksander pushes himself from the wall, attentively looking at the squaller.

The dark-haired woman passes by you, not even sharing a last glance, and when the door behind her closes, you feel like finally relaxing.

– Don't like the company of the royal family?

The general locks the door and comes back to you, eyeing your figure with a silky arrogant gaze.

You, in turn, don't leave his eyes too, but with completely different expression. The man, who adored you so much, when we first met and developed your feelings towards each other, who worried about your opinion about him, now only pushes you away as hard as possible and even harder.

You indeed are not recognizing the same man you loved. But maybe you should learn to love him again.

– What was that? - your quiet voice seems to shake him to the ground. This strange calm power on the bottom on your eyes frightens him.

– What was what?

– What made you what you are? - you come closer to the man knowing that he won't go away. There are no more places where he can hide from you. – Tell me, Aleksander, what have burnt the heart out of you?

His glance is a mix of shame and disgust. He can't just not look at you and solve his problems with that. With the woman who sees through him.

– You don't want to know, Y/N.

– Well, I'm here..., - you throws your arms to the side.

Kirigan turns away and comes up to the table with maps leaning on his hands. His glance is slipping to the documents and plans, but he feels you're coming with his back.

You can't wait anymore, come closer to your lover. Lean with your hip on the table to face Aleksander, desperately staring into sharp lines of his features, trying to find that very young man he was once, so long time ago, beyond all the darkness that surrounds him.

– What do you want to hear? I was killing people in their backs all these years. I have terrified them, terrorized using my shadows, I was Ravkan punisher. Fouler than death itself.

– I understand, - you say quietly, wondering if there is still soul inside of this man. Burnt down black desert. That is all he has instead of it.

– Do you regret?

You flinch, when low voice rings in complete silence after a pause. Instead of answering you just shake your head.

– Not a minute of it...well, - Kirigan's gaze switches to yours, when you highlights last words.

– Aside from the moments when you tried to send me away.

One-sided light grin touches his face.

– Don't tell me later, that I didn't warn you.

– Even if I ever regret about my decisions, I will never blame you, Aleksander.

Something in him clicks and he straightens turning his head to you. Need in the glance only softens you more.

– Call me that again, - everything inside you clenches, as you hear his broken voice.

– Aleksander-

– No, not like that.

On a short moment you don't understand his words, but then you are finally lighted up with an idea. His hand that lays not far from you appears under your gentle touch.

– Sasha.

The walls he was building for so long are crushing down at this very moment. You make a quick move to embrace him tenderly and tightly. The man immediately hides his head in the crook of your neck.

– Has the darkness in me won over the light, Y/N? - you feel these words as he touches your skin with his lips while speaking.

– I don't know, darling. I don't know.

– Maybe they are right, - he raises his head, and you see these two burning pools of pure madness in his eyes. – Maybe the beast should stay with his own kind-

– Shut up!

Kirigan blinks and fever in his glance vanishes. He definitely doesn't expect this outburst from you.

Your hands laying on his shoulders and chest before, now are cupping his face, making the man look you in the eyes.

– Stop talking nonsense, - his eyes are searching for something on your face, something that gives up your true feelings. – I love you, Aleksander. And you are not even close to a monster. Don't you dare taking about it again.

You bring his head a bit down so your foreheads touch. Only a moment before you notice tears gathering in his eyes.

– I thought I had lost you, Y/N. My dearest love.

You move closer to finally connect your lips, savouring the perfect moment of peace. Your name sounds like a lament from his lips.

– How can you still stand me after knowing who I am?

Kirigan steals one last kiss from you touching the tip of your nose with his. This tension he felt before slowly leaves him.

– I choose to love you for the things you have control over. Yes, I may not approve your methods, but I know that you want the best for your people. That's enough for me.

– If I knew that you become the only thing I needed, I would not come into that forest.

You chuckle and this turns into light laughter, that Aleksander catches too.

– I'm taking it as a compliment, dear.

When you two stop, you realize that it is pretty late already. You won't forget yourself tomorrow's morning for the lack of sleep.

– May I stay with you? - you are searching for the answer on his face.

– Come.

Aleksander leads you to his bedroom where you stayed a couple of times, laying his broad palm on your back.

He gets rid of his own closer and changes it, handing a new clean shirt for you to change as well.

Honestly you have a small collection of his shirts in your wardrobe now, and the whole palace will probably know about it, if you ever done wrong with Genya.

When you take you places on the bed you notice, that the man is still restless.

– Just try to fall asleep, - his hand twitches under your soft touch. – Don't think about anything else, okay?

He is silent, and you go on.

– I see how you talk to your people, Aleksander, I know that you are trying for them. Grisha are dedicated to you, because they know you care about them, - your fingers start brushing circles on the back of his hand. – Though, as I said, your methods are questionable for me.

– I want grisha not to be afraid anymore. Anyone.

– I know. But I can't advise you anything. I'm sorry.

He shakes his head, covering your hand with his.

– It's okay. I'm grateful, that you are here at all, and...

Emotions overwhelm him, and the general falls silent. Suddenly you move closer and hug him tightly, placing a chaste kiss on his brow.

– Shh, sleep. We will think about this in the morning

@aleksanderwh0r3 @all-art-is-quite-useless @carlywhomever @cynthianokamaria

[dustysandwiches]

Family (TMVSTM)

Summary: Eric and Deborahbot 5000 feels like they didn't belong with the The Mitchells and run away to live their own lives

"Purple glasses woman, why did you saved me?"

"Oh come on, you boys are family now"

Family…?

It is such a complex word, too difficult to truly understand. For a robot create just to following orders, Eric did not understand it yet, though he did looked up the definition of it but despite that he plays along for the sake of his and his Pal Max brother

They're heading to the Silicon Valley, The night sky is filled with no stars but the green "fun pots" containing human to somewhere. It makes the sky lights up with green light. It is an unusual sight even for robots.

The Mitchells are really going to destroy Pal?.... If so, what will happen to the remaining robots? What if..they failed..?

The bot are lost in his memories and Net Work to find something he's looking for. It seems like he's in too deep in the system Until he feels someone shaking his shoulder part lighty

"Eric...Eric, are you there? Is your system too damaged?" A voice speaks in hushed tone

Eric turn his mechanical head to another Pal Max bot, Deborahbot 5000

His brother

"What wrong? you've been so still like you shut down. I'm…. worry"

Deborah grip Eric's shoulder part lighty. Robots isn't supposed to have feelings but they're the defective now anyway, so it's not surprising that he would express what he "feels"

The car stop at some abandoned gas station. Only Katie, Aaron and the loft of bread are sleeping in the car at the moment. Mother and The male Mitchells are inside the store for something. Eric finally answered and grip Deborah's hand back

"I'm okay, my system and outside damage is unchange at the moment. I'm sorry I didn't acknowledge your question earlier. Don't need to be worry"

"Okay… but tell me if anything is acting strange, will you? I don't want to lose you, brother...We're only defective robots here, if you're gone, what am I going to do?"

"I'll always have your back like you have mine, brother. We are going to survive, one way or another"

Eric tells what he thinks is logical to his robo brother. He let go of Deborah's hand and turned his head to Mother, who's making her way back to the car with her partner and tells her the safest route to Silicon Valley.

The car is running along the road at night. The robo brothers looking outside of the car, expanding their data about the human environment and hearing the conversation between Katie and Mother. They're talking about The male Mitchells, Rick of how he's just trying to make her happy.

Eric wants to feel this "happy" too and he wants Deborah to feel the same. Maybe it would feel really nice, like getting their system updated.

But how could they do that? They're about to went through most protected head quarter in the world right now and there's no guarantee that the plan would work but the show must go on

"Mom, what is that?"

"Oh my god!!"

The car suddenly stops, making their head jerks back, Eric and Deborah turn their heads to the front window. As the Mitchells get out of the car to stand in front of the giant building as tall as the sky.

"We're here...the Head Quarter" Eric said as he's getting out of the trunk

"Oh boy, I don't like this. Do you think we could get to the top without others noticing?" Deborah ask, stepping beside Eric in front of the car, behind the Mitchells

Slowly, Eric extends his hand to the side to his brother, knob and gears whirring while he processes his next word. Deborah immediately holds his hand and they're both looking up to the tower.

"No matter what happens, we're going to be alright"

__________________________________

The plan did not go well. The Mitchells got caught by a new robot, Pal invented. The sounds of the alarm is almost deafening, after the cable car has fell down and crashed. Deborah's vision is trying to adjust after he hits the ground. The first thing he see is the face of Pal Max bot with some face drawn on.

"Are you alright, brother?" Eric said as worrying as his robotic voice could spunds while kneeling next to him

Before he could answer, The black robot burst through and captured Mother and Rick. The Mitchells is being taken away and Deborah knows he need to help

Because they're his family now too

"Mitchells, we will help"

"Oh no no no, you won't. download new order"

Suddenly, like the virus creeping through their system. Making the robo brothers clutch their head like they're in pain, unable to take control of their body any longer.

New order appears : Capture the Mitchells

Deborah trying to break free one last time

No please I don't want to do this. Eric, Mother, Anyone…Can you hear me?..

"We're sorry, Mother"

Then, everything went blank

__________________________________

"Let's take a photo after we saved the world!" Linda said cheerily to Eric after handing or rather putting it in his hand

The battle is over the human won and the uprising is over. All of the Pal Max and the new robot has been shut down, Well almost every bot.

Eric and Deborahbot 5000 have broken through Pal's control and helped Rick Mitchells to put the video of the bread dog on, neutralizing the other robots. Now they're celebrating without them

They broke the code and helped this family save the world and now they can't even be in a photo? Eric thought but took the photo anyway. Maybe they're just too excited like humans always does.

The Mitchells tell the brothers, they can stay at home with them as a member of the family. The Mitchells welcome them, Linda teaches Deborah how to draw stuff like the Sun, the tree and other things. Rick shows them how to build a shelter from branches and leaves. Arron always talks to them about dinosaurs in his books and Katie sometimes asks them for ideas for her project. It was a good time.

Time passes and the robo brothers feels like they're more like a servant than a family. The Mitchells tells them to do things for them like chores, collecting the mails, mow the lawn and many things. Most of the time they haven't called them by their names or acknowledge them when they do something for the Mitchells. At first the brothers gladly do them, thinking it was a part of being a family but this time they had enough.

At night, when everyone is asleep. Eric and Deborah sit on a rooftop, looking into the sky. The moon is full today, shining bright along millions of sparkling stars. They come here every time they want to say something they went through each day, like updating each other. Today is different

"Today Rick called me Robot instead of my name again, I don't really think it's from force habits anymore" Deborah speaks in a quiet voice, mechanical head looks up to the shooting stars, then to his brother.

"But at least Mother let me help her cook dinner! It was really interesting, I learned how to peel a potato today, Look!"

He grabbed the potato peels besides him and held up to his brother. It's ragged, uneven and still has a big chunk of potato attached to it. Eric chuckles in a monotone like his robotic voice always does.

"That's great, Deborah. You know today Mother also let me do the laundry too! There was a lot of foam but I think I did well, Mother's face looks so surprised when I tell her I also put her bag in there too. She rushed past me so fast, I can't even see her"

"The purple bag? Oh yes, she loves that bag. Very thoughtful, Eric."

Then Deborah held out his hand, attempt to high-five Eric but they kept missing each other's hands, so they tapped their heads together gently. The glass tink softly as they did.

They looked up to the sky again, thinking about their lives with the Mitchells. Of how they've been treated lately, how they've been struggling to fit in the family and how they feel like they've been ignored.

Eric broke the silence between them and speaks in a quiet voice, hands gripping his knees tighter.

"Making our own order is great, we can do everything we want now"

Deborah nods " but why do I feel like we're doing The Mitchells order everyday"

"I understand if they haven't felt comfortable with us but they should have told us and we can be somewhere else. Not…. keeping us servants..like this.."

He looked back at Eric and asked in a hushed voice, if a robot can cry tears, his voice would be shaking like a human...but he's not human.

“I wonder if there’s any bots like us.. You know, the defectives. What are they up to? Where are they now? Do they stay with humans like us?”

“I don’t know, brother. I don’t know. I guess Pal wasn’t prepared for anything like this. She didn’t put any program for tracking other bots for us.”

“We should go find them. That way we can have our own robots family! We don’t have to listen to any humans anymore!

Deborah grab his brother shoulders part, turn his body to face him and said firmly

“You say it yourself, Eric. We take our own orders now. This is the time we can truly do that. Don’t you see? Other Mitchells except Mother didn’t treat us very well. They call us Robots rather than our names. They give orders. They got angry when we didn’t complete what they requested. They didn’t acknowledge us most of the time like we aren’t right there!”

His voice drop low and finally he hugs his brother, a gesture he saw human does to their family and the one they cared for

“We did everything together...but we’re just in the background every time..We aren’t supposed to feel emotions but I do...”

Slowly, Eric lifts his hand and hugs back tightly, mechanical gear and wires clicking as he thinks about his brother's words.

It’s true. They were in the background most of the time. They were more like a maid robot than a member of a family like the Mitchells said. Maybe his brother was right, this is not where they truly belong. They need to get away from humans. For good this time.

“You’re right. We should go”

Eric let go of his brother and stand up. Looking into the distant city, held out his hand for Deborah. They will make their own future with others, if there are any more of them left.

“Let’s go say our goodbye to the Mitchells. Though they may have treated us like this but they still help us from Pal.”

“Should we leave a letter or something?”

“If you want to, we can. Oh oh! We should put the glitter on!”

Together, they jump down from the rooftops and go inside the house. Writing a goodbye letter for the Mitchells, telling them they appreciated everything they did but they want to live their own lives somewhere else without anyone giving them orders

After sometime, they put the letter down at the dinner table with a flower Eric collected from the neighbor's house, The Poseys.

Now, the brothers stand in front of the house. Looking back one last time before leaving.

"Let's go, brother" Eric said.

_________________________________________

The sounds of the jet under their feet break the silence of the night. They jump and fly into the sky, green trails from the jet painting the night sky. They fly and fly further away from the house. Until the dawn came, they stopped at some abandoned cabin in the woods. It appears there's nobody living here for a long time.

"This place is in a good condition and I believe there's no human living here." Deborah said, feeling satisfied

"Yes, but we should look around just in case. Could you check around the cabin? I'll check inside." Eric asked while looking around and scanning the cabin with the camera on the top right of his head.

Deborah nods and goes out the door to check for anything or anyone. Leaving only Eric inside.

Eric wanders into the halls, scanning every room. The cabin is dusty and there were some traces of wild animals making a nest and shelter. Some kind of nuts and leaves were scattered all over the floor.Everything seems normal for an abandoned human cabin, until he spotted muddy footprints. It’s still wet, this only means one thing. There’s someone here.

The sound of a metal clanking from further down the cabin. It appears the sounds came from the kitchen. Eric changes one of his hand to the plasma beam shooter, being on guard and slowly walking to the origin of the sound.

[quinncupine]

The Stars Above

word count: 1,564

link: A03

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary:  The sky was clear and the first stars were starting to blink into existence. It was weird staring up at the stars from this side of the world. There weren’t that many of them, not as many as you were used to.

"You ever just...look up?"

Quinns Masterlist!

....

You had gone outside to get some fresh air, but really it was because you didn't want anyone to see your downtrodden mood and ruin the evening. Class 1-A had decided to host a fun game night, and it was until you were painfully reminded that you haven't seen your family in almost a year. Being a foreign transfer student was already hard, but you were close with your family and you'd never spent so long away from them before. 

The night air has a bit of a bite to it, so you curl your knees up to your chest and huddle underneath your oversized sweater. Honestly, it's probably a bit childish looking, but you are alone outside and you really don't care.

The sky is clear and the first stars are starting to blink into existence. It's weird staring up at the stars from this side of the world. There aren't that many of them, not as many as you were used to. You grew up in a rural area, where on good nights like these, there would be too many to count. It reminds you of one night when your dad had-

"L/N?" A soft voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You jump, quickly pull your knees from your sweater, and fall backward in your haste to see who has snuck up on you.

"Oh," you breathe and stare at him upside-down. "Midoriya, you scared me."

"I'm so sorry!" He waves his hands around. "I didn't mean to disturb you. You've just been outside for a while and when you left, you looked kinda down, and I just wanted to check and make sure you were uh, but I-I can leave if-" He rambles on before you cut him off.

"Woah," you chuckle. "Calm down. You're not disturbing me." You rest your head on your arms behind you and look to the sky. "I was just thinking is all. Thanks for checking up on me though."

"Um, yeah." He nervously fiddles with his thumbs. "Uh, what, um, what are you thinking about?"

"My family." You sigh. "I haven't seen them in a long time."

"Oh, sorry."

"You apologize a lot." You glance back at him with a soft smirk and pat the spot beside you. "Wanna sit?"

His feet almost trip over themselves as he sits next to you, keenly aware of how close you are. The night is quiet outside, the complete opposite from the ruckus happening inside, and you both relax in the calming silence. Well, relax might've been too strong a word. Izuku was finding it very hard to stay calm when you were right there with the faint scent of your perfume flowing over him.

"You ever just...look up?" You murmur, fixing your gaze on the brightest star in the sky.

"Look up?" He mirrors your action.

"Yeah, you know, just watch." You pull your focus to him. "I used to do that a lot with my dad. We would just sit outside all night long and make up silly stories about all the constellations we didn't know. Like Freddy the Baboon over there-" you point up, but falter. The stars aren't visible enough to see the full constellations. "Hmm, I guess you can't see it here, too many lights."

A small frown etches across your face as you sit up to curl your knees back to your chest and rest your chin on them. Your finger scratches little circles on one knee. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea; looking at the pitiful amount of stars only further digs in the fact that this wasn't home. Of course, you loved being here learning at one of the top hero schools, meeting great friends, but it just wasn't home.

"Uh," you clear your throat. "We should probably go back in."

You stand, dust off your pants, and adjust your now stretched out sweater. Izuku gets up too, but when you turn to head for the door, he develops a sudden bout of courage and grabs your arm.

"Hey L/N?" His hand is warm and gentle on your arm, but he must have caught you staring at it and quickly tears it away. "Maybe you'd wanna, um..." The sudden burst of confidence is quickly draining. "Uh, well, I was thinking, if you'd want...we could...you know, look up again...sometime...together?" He nearly squeaks out the last few words.

He looks so frazzled that you can't help the soft giggle that escapes your lips, only serving to redden his face more.

"I'd like that." In your own burst of confidence, you lean in and lightly kiss his cheek. "I'd really like that."

The poor boy short-circuits. His fingers brush over the spot on his burning cheeks in awe. He just stares at you, mouth agape, like he just saw a galaxy in full view for the first time.

"Come on, we're missing all the fun." You grab his hand and pull him along, except that he doesn't budge. You fear you may have broken him. "I'm sorry, I probably should've asked before I did that."

"No!" He feverishly shakes his head and steps quite close. "That was-I'm-It's-I" He can't seem to find the right words so he just grabs your face with that same determined look he always makes when training, and just goes for it.

His lips are soft as they crash into yours in an almost desperate manner. It shocks you for a second before you melt into the kiss. He's a bit shaky and inexperienced, and you can't help the smile that finally breaks you apart. It only lasted a few seconds, but you still find yourself trying to catch your breath.

He blinks, beet red, eyes wide, and takes a step back before you gently place a hand on his arm. You open your mouth to say something, but your brain is too flustered to come up with any words.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I just-" you cut him off with a kiss of your own.

His hands come up to cup your face and you finally understand just how fast of a learner he is. You wrap your arms around your neck to pull him closer to you when the front door bursts open and the two of you jump apart faster than lightning.

It's Mina. "There you guys are." She waves at you, none the wiser. "Come on, we're about to start the next game, it's..." She glances between the two of you, finally aware she might've interrupted something. "Uh, but take you're time, it'll take a while to get everyone rounded up anyway." She winks at you as she backs away and disappears inside with a giddy grin.

You peek at Izuku, sure that your face was just as red as his. He rubs his neck and offers his hand, which you gladly accept. He can't help the All Might sized smile that spreads across his face. On your way up the stairs, you catch a glimpse of a shooting star flash through the sky. It seems things are finally starting to look up.

BONUS:

"Izuku?" You rush down the hallway when you see him standing outside his door. "What's the emergency? Are you alright?"

"What?" He cocks his head. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to show you something."

"Okay, well next time, when you send an S.O.S., it better be an S.O.S." You playfully punch his arm. "So what is it?"

"It's in here." He opens the door.

The room is completely dark, even though the sun has yet to dip under the horizon. The windows must have been blacked out. He extends his arm and waits for you to walk in first. You raise a brow but step inside anyway. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you in pitch black.

"Uh, Izuku?" You feel around for him.

"Look up." He simply says.

You do and that's when a million little lights flicker to life across the ceiling. It looked like he'd somehow captured the entire night sky and smuggled it into his room. You gape at the colorful sight and step further in, twirling around. There must have been a fog machine hidden somewhere because the sky seemed to swirl above you in a mesmerizing wave.

"How did-"

"I wanted you to feel at home." He rubs the back of his neck with a shy smile. "Where you could see all the stars."

"And more." You murmur. "Izuku, this, this is amazing. How on earth did you do this?"

"Aoyama and Yaoyorozu helped. Do you like it?" He shifts from foot to foot, not quite confident enough to look up at you.

"Do I like it?" You stretched your fingers out above you, finding all the constellations. It was a perfect re-creation of the night sky you remembered, but more vibrant and a lot more cozier. "This is absolutely stunning." Your eyes land on him and you hold out your hand. "I can't believe you did this for me."

He eagerly takes your hand and you pull him close, leaning into his chest. The blush that burns across his face is masked by the darkness, for which he is grateful.

"So," he looks up. "What's the story with Freddy the Baboon?"