#I’ve grown as a person to not lash out at this as I would’ve done in the past but please reblog this and share the message

[ichigopanhpff]

Mitsuya x Fem!Reader Begin Again: Ch. 12

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Mitsuya's actually a god for having pulled off those outfits in such a short time frame last chapter. I must've stayed on that spread for a good few minutes taking it all in while tears hung on my eyes.

But Wakui really hit us with the "the real award was the friends we along the way." This mfing troll... You gotta respect it.

Also, I wanna go to the TokyoRev Exhibition so bad! That giant golden Mikey statue posed as a Sleeping Buddha is some next level stuff ROFL.

And thanks for all the new follows and likes <3

---

Hushed murmurs and chattered roused all of Toman after Mikey announced the firing of the third division captain, Kisaki Tetta.

“What’re you saying, Mikey?” the tanned boy inquired in confusion. “Is this a joke?”

“I’m not joking,” he tersely replied and repeated himself. Not knowing what to say, Kisaki stood there stunned; he didn’t consider to factor in the possibility of being kicked out of the gang with his foiled plan. It was then the sixth division captain, Hanma Shuji, stepped up and said he’d be leaving too if the third division captain was fired, leveraging Toman would shrink down to 100 without the additional 350 made up of former Moebius and Valhalla members. The numbers game on the commander seemed to have been no use, stating they’ve gotten too big lately anyway. This was his way in trimming the unnecessary fat.

“Gotten too big?” Kisaki finally found his voice again. “Isn’t that Toman’s goal, Mikey?!”

“Then, was your instigation of the Christmas Conflict done to make us bigger?” the blond commander rebutted. The sudden chatter among members gave way again, some not believing he was the person behind the whole fiasco. Mikey then revealed what Mitsuya and Chifuyu reported to him regarding the events that transpired.

“I’ve ignored your underhanded methods in expanding Toman up until now… It ends here,” he firmly stated.

Feeling vile sense of panic rising from his stomach, the tanned blond made his way to the stairs to try to reason with the commander.

“You’d grown weak! Taiju was a threat to Toman!” he desperately lashed out. “I acted for your sake!”

His attempt to ascend the stairs was blocked by Draken, reminding him of his place. In the blink of an eye, he blocked an incoming punch by Hanma with his left arm. (Y/N) was confident in her reflexes, but seeing how the sixth division captain moved scared her; it was as if his instincts were to purely fight. Personally, she knew she could take him on, but if it’s on speed alone, it would’ve been an easy victory for him.

Tossing his pride aside, Kisaki once again pleaded with Mikey rethink his decision, spinning the fact he alone can help make Toman powerful. He vowed to take on the darkness that bred with its size so only the commander alone could shine.

“You can’t achieve your dream on lip service alone, Mikey!” Kisaki beseeched. “So, reconsider this.”

Toman’s commander gave the former third division captain a look of disappointment and turned his back on him. “We’re through, Kisaki,” he finalized. “Your unpredictable choices will screw up my dream.”

The gaudy, tanned blond fell to his knees, reeling in the defeat in his inability to convince Toman’s top to keep him. With Draken calling an end to the meeting, the group disbanded for the night. (Y/N) took one last look at the tanned blond's devastated form with his partner in crime hovering over him before making her way to the back of the shrine with the rest of the captains. She didn't like either of them one bit; they both have the same aura. Putting her thoughts aside, she advanced up to the vice commander.

“What the hell was that shit you pulled, Draken?!” she huffed angrily looking up at him, finally dropping the honorific. “Tokyo Kitsune?! Don’t put me on the spot like that!”

“Listen, it was Mikey’s idea,” the lanky boy shot back. “Take it up with him. I’m just the messenger.”

“Mikey!” she yelled and chased after him. “Get your ass back here! I see you trying to duck away, you jerk!”

“It all worked out, didn’t it?” he casually replied with a happy grin as (Y/N) snaked her arm around his neck with ominous intent. “Kitsune’s officially under Toman now.”

“’Officially’ my ass!” She tightened her grip and put the commander in a headlock. “You jerry rigged this whole fuckin’ thing to coerce me into announcin’ it like I was the main entree on a silver platter, dick bag! Die!”

None of the Toman captains and vice captains knew what to do, seeing Mitsuya’s childhood friend choke the life out of their precious commander. And if they were being honest with themselves at this very moment, they were vicariously enjoying it through her because they knew for a fact Mikey would one-shot them all with his high kick.

Ah, the perks of being female, they all collectively thought.

“(Y/N)-chan, I think you’ve gone far enough,” Mucho finally stepped in. “Please let Mikey go.”

Clicking her tongue, she roughly released her vice grip around his neck and crossed her arms, huffing a breath. Mikey thanked the fifth division captain and wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder like they've been buddies forever.

“If that headlock was the price of gaining a new friend into Toman, so be it,” he stated light-heartedly with a chuckle while rubbing his neck. “And your strength’s no joke, (Y/N). That really hurt! It might leave a bruise.”

“You take karate, don’t you? I’m sure all the capillaries in your body’s used to the beating,” she pointed out, unfazed by his comment.

The two continued bantering on with the rest of the captains joining in. Mitsuya watched from afar and smiled to himself, feeling a little relieved. He thought confessing to her would make things awkward and it didn’t seem to be the case right now. All he can do right now is wait and see what may come from it.

“Phew, that was a helluva meeting though,” Smiley sighed. “To think that asshole Kisaki spurred this whole thing…”

“This may be a random question…” (Y/N) called for everyone’s attention. “What were your impressions of him when he joined?”

“I had my reservations ‘bout him and Hanma. But we needed someone to helm the third division since Pah-chin went to jail,” Mitsuya answered first. “Takemitchy was so against it, he slugged him right in the face during his appointment ceremony.”

“Oh, that’s right… That happened,” the blond pompadour boy sheepishly replied, suddenly remembering the pain in his gut and face. “After I woke up from being punched by him, I told Mikey he was bad news and was trying to convince him to kick him out.”

“I was wondering what the hell Mikey was thinkin’,” Draken answered with honesty.

“So I’m not the only one then…” she muttered and hugged herself, still remembering her brief encounter with him not too long ago. “He had a really bad vibe.”

“What kinda vibe was that?” Mucho asked stoically.

“Being near him felt like… he was suffocating my soul with his dark intents. But he was clever and cautious enough to not rouse suspicion from any of you, particularly from Mucho-kun.”

"In retrospect, I should've kept a closer eye on him," the muscular captain replied with a neutral tone.

Hugging herself tighter, her core shook with uncertainty something big was going to happen. Not wanting to manifest this to reality, she kept it in her mouth.

“Just… Be careful, okay? All of you,” she heeded with concern in her voice.

“What for?” asked Draken.

“Call it women’s intuition. I don’t wanna say anymore.”

Why was Kisaki so obsessed with growing Toman’s numbers? To what end was he willing to use underhanded methods to achieve whatever his goal is? How many more lives was he going to play with? All these questions swam in her head with no answer in sight; the most important thing was he was kicked.

Observing her tense body language, the vice commander decided not to push the issue any further. Everyone went their separate ways after calling it for the night. As if by habit, Mitsuya threw the spare helmet at (Y/N) to catch. Hesitantly getting on Impulse, she tightened the helmet on top of her head before loosely wrapping her arms around his torso.

“You can hug a little tighter, y’know,” he encouraged with a lopsided smirk. “You’re not gonna choke me.”

The ride back home was quiet but not tense. Confession aside, the two were simply enjoying each other’s company. Feeling exhaustion creep up with his bike's calm revving in the mix like a lullaby, (Y/N) rested her head on his back with half-lidded eyes before drifting off. There was always something comforting she found about Mitsuya’s back; it was like a security blanket. The lilac haired boy decided to ride a little slower to prevent her from falling over and to stretch their time together. Pulling up around the corner of her building complex, he turned the engine off before gently nudging his friend with his left shoulder.

“(Y/N)…” he softly called. “We’re here.”

Letting out a breathy moan, she let out a quick sigh and sat up straight to stretch her arms out, hearing her shoulder joints crack. Thanking him for the lift, she hopped off of the bike and returned the helmet.

“How’s your finals prep going?” he asked to make conversation.

“It’s going. I’m just aiming for the public schools with some kinda design program.”

“We may end up at the same school then,” Mitsuya said with a light chuckle.

“Mi-tan, listen…” She fidgeted with her fingertips, not making eye contact. “About what you said on New Years--”

“Let me take you out on a date,” he jumped in with his proposal, making her look up with surprise. “I feel like I pushed my feelings onto you without considering yours.” Hopping off of Impulse, he walked to her and tenderly grasped her hands, staring at her with those calm, lavender eyes.

“Besides, I owe you a meal for Christmas,” he finished with a cheerful grin.

“I… actually forgot about that,” she blinked in realization.

“You? Forget free food?” he teased. “That’s a shocker.”

“Rude.”

Mitsuya and (Y/N) broke out in a light fit of laughter to break the tension.

“And if I say no?” she challenged with a cocked eyebrow, her gaze holding onto his.

“Would you say no?” he responded with a low, deep voice almost to the point of whispering. She stayed silent and continued looking at her friend without any reaction.

“Would you?” he asked a little louder this time with mild concern and knitted eyebrows.

“I’m thinking,” she coolly replied and playfully batted her eyelashes.

“Need another moment?” he quipped with a small tone of annoyance.

“I like seeing you sweat,” (Y/N) finally answered with a coltish roll of her eyes. “But I guess I’ll say yes. You’re really twisting my arm here.”

--

Since the end of the Christmas Conflict, the streets of Tokyo were seemingly much more peaceful as of late. (Y/N) found herself spacing out from studying chemistry. English was a breeze since she had first-hand conversational and writing experience with foreign exchange students at her old middle school. They were the only people who weren’t afraid to talk to her.

This wasn’t the problem right now.

It was her date with Mitsuya. All she had to wear were over sized tops and jeans. Nothing to make her look feminine at all. With her tight budget, it’s not like she could go on a shopping spree to buy a whole new wardrobe either.

She rested her head on her table with a muffled thud and groaned out loud.

“Why do I do this to myself?” she said to herself aloud and lightly slammed her forehead on the hard surface with soft thuds, suddenly wondering about her masochistic tendencies.

Her mobile phone started ringing and drew her attention away from inside her head to pick up the call.

“Emma-chan? What’s up?”

“Ah, (Y/N)? Are you free right now?”

“Technically, no, but my brain can’t study anymore,” she lamented and rubbed her temple. “If I see another science formula in my eyelids, I’m gonna scream.”

“Oh good! Let’s make some sweets together then!” the younger Sano suggested.

“So… you’re stress baking?”

“No, for Valentine’s Day!” Emma exclaimed.

“Isn’t it kinda early?” she asked.

“Well, I wanna do a test run,” she elaborated. “I bought a recipe book, but I can’t decide what to make for Draken…”

“Sure, why not?” (Y/N) agreed with a light shrug of her shoulders. “I need to air out my brain. Oh, I have pictures to give you.”

“Great! I’ll call Hina over too and we can make it a girl’s day,” she cheerfully replied.

The two said their good-byes and hung up. Slowly standing on her feet, (Y/N) let out a big stretch and yawned before getting ready. She reached the Sano residence in 30 minutes on foot with Emma greeting her at the door. Coming here by herself felt weird without the Toman captains for some reason.

“Hina’ll be here soon,” Emma announced as she took (Y/N) upstairs to her room; it was exactly how she imagined it: cute, girly, warm and soft. Her bed had a magenta pink bear resting by her pillow and the walls had scattered photos of family and Toman members, particularly with Draken, Mikey, a boy with long, flowing raven black hair and the other captains. On the table in the middle of her room had scattered recipe books of sweets with taped bookmarks on the edges along with a small bowl of snacks prepared ahead of time.

The doorbell rang downstairs not long after; Emma ran down to let Hina in while (Y/N) snacked on some chips. The girls greeted one another and got to talking. She then gave each of them a copy of their photos.

Emma flipped through the pictures happily. “These came out so good, (Y/N)!”

“The touch-ups took a lot longer than expected. Mikey picked a lot of the Christmas ones when he came over.”

Hina stopped at a specific photo and started blushing; she was staring at a photo of her and Takemichi looking at each other starry eyed during dinner. The next photo was of Emma and Draken mid-conversation with Mikey to the side eating happily, followed with more candid group shots leading up to New Year’s. Hina then revealed one where it was Draken, (Y/N) with a dumb grin on her face and Mitsuya talking. She and Emma couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Ah…” she suddenly remembered and inwardly winced from embarrassment. “I think Yuzu-chan took this when I was drunk… I’ve never felt so betrayed, even though it’s a good one.” Having gone through all the photos, they then turned their attention to the scattered recipe books.

“I was thinking of making Draken a cake…” Emma started off.

“That’s gonna be hard for him to carry, no?” (Y/N) asked. “Since he’ll most likely be on Zephyr.”

“I swear, that bike…” the blonde grumbled.

“Emma sees Zephyr as her rival,” Hina clarified with an uneasy smile.

“I mean, if I had a bike I built from scratch, I’d probably feel the same way…” she trailed off nervously.

“Are you siding with Zephyr now?!” Emma huffed defensively and slammed her hands on the low table.

“No! Of course not!” (Y/N) exclaimed, holding her hands out in a neutral manner. “I mean, it’s not like a bike can cook so…”

Having seemed to have calmed down, Emma went back to flipping through the pages in one of the recipe books as she sighed with relief. Eventually settling on cookies and truffles, the three shuffled their way down to the kitchen to start testing recipes.

“Who will you be making these for?” Hina asked (Y/N).

“Eh? Ah…” She thought for a short beat and scratched the side of her face. “I just thought of giving them to the Toman captains as obligatory chocolates.”

“Boo~” Emma jeered. “I won’t let you make any if it’s gonna be something boring like that.”

“Why don’t you make some for Mitsuya-kun?” the rose brown haired girl suggested with a smile, making (Y/N) immediately look away with blotches of pink dotting the apples of her cheeks and coughed from choking on her own spit.

“Ohhh ho ho ho?” Emma tittered and got up close to her with a sly look. “Did something happen?”

“N-Not in particular…” she mumbled out while continuing to avoid eye contact and inwardly screamed at her body for betraying her feelings.

“That blush says otherwise.”

“Emma-chan, take it easy on her,” Hina playfully tutted.

“I’m…” she came forward with hesitation. “I’m not good with this… girl talk stuff. So… Give me some time, yeah?”

“Of course. Sorry if I was being pushy,” Emma apologized.

The three finalized the ingredients and recipes they were going to test. (Y/N) got to setting up a double boiler on the stove top to melt some chocolates for truffles while Hina and Emma respectively worked on the dough for checkered cookies. Feeling the kitchen was too quiet, Emma ran upstairs and brought her small boombox from her room down to play some music from her favourite radio station. Everything was either chilling or baking after another hour. As if by magic, the sweetness of the cookies filled the Sano household with a sense of home and warmth.

“Something smells really good,” Mikey suddenly entered the kitchen and was surprised to see the two guests sitting with his sister. He greeted them warmly.

“We’re testing some stuff,” (Y/N) told him. “It’s for—mmph!”

The female Sano immediately covered her mouth from spilling any more information. For someone as petite as her, she surprisingly had a lot of strength. She knew Mikey would definitely hang this over her head, especially if it’s anything to do with Draken.

“I just thought of playing around with some recipes for fun,” Emma nervously explained with a light blush and awkward laugh.

“Hmm…” Mikey gave his sister a nonchalant look. Before he can prod any more, the doorbell rung at the main entrance, followed with the opening of the sliding door.

“It’s nice and warm in here,” a familiar voice noted and rubbed his hands together. “And smells sweet.”

“Ah, good timing, Ken-chin,” Mikey greeted his best friend. “The girls are makin’—”

“Gaah! Out! Out! Out!” Emma exclaimed and pushed her brother from the kitchen and into the hallway, out of fear of ruining the surprise. He collided with the tall boy's torso.

“What the—?! Emma?!”

She slammed the sliding door right in Mikey’s face.

“No boys allowed in here!” she shouted from the other side.

(Y/N) used a bathroom break as an excuse to take a breather. Letting out an audible breath, she vacated the washing closet and decided to sneak outside for some fresh air. Sliding open one of the wooden partitions in the living room, she tucked herself into her thick sweater and looked at her white breath floating up to the air in the wintry afternoon sky.

“(Y/N)?” Mikey’s voice called from the left end of the residence. “That you?”

She made her way over and saw him and Draken doing maintenance on Babu.

“I need a small break from the girl talk.” She tilted her neck slightly to the left and let out a small crack; she sighed in relief. “Never thought it’d be that intense. Ah…” She reached into her back pocket and handed each of them a white envelope of photos. The two thanked her and placed them aside so it wouldn’t get dirty.

“This is the first time she’s kicked me outta the kitchen when she’s making something,” Mikey pouted while waiting for the oil on his bike to drain out onto the pan below.

“Well…” She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “It’s sort of a surprise and she didn’t wanna ruin—”

“She’s making stuff for Valentine’s Day, right?” he interrupted. “She does it every year! So why’s this time any different?”

“Ask her, not me,” she flatly replied, not wanting to get in the middle of their sibling squabble.

“So what’ll you be making, (Y/N)-chan?” Draken asked as he opened a new can of oil for Mikey to put into his bike.

“Truffles,” she briskly answered. “Though it’s just obligatory chocolates…”

“Huh? You’re not makin’ ‘em for Mitsuya?” the vice commander questioned with slight confusion.

“Okay,” she sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “What’s with all the Mi-tan talk today?”

“I mean, he does like you,” Mikey pointed out.

(Y/N) wordlessly stuttered as her face blushed two shades of red and turned her back to the boys to regain composure.

“Oh you didn’t know?” Draken casually asked. “He was staring at you all night when we were at the temple on New Years.”

“I’m not… having this conversation right now.” She knitted her eyes shut, not wanting to think about their upcoming date. “Especially with you two.”

“If anything, we two are the best for you to talk to,” Draken pointed out with a mischievous smirk. “He’s pretty popular with the girls, y’know. We can tell you all 'bout his type, who's confessed, his pe—”

“DON’T. NEED. TO KNOW!” she shouted out of embarrassment and annoyance in Sendai dialect, her face a nice shade of tomato red now. (Y/N) stomped back into the house with a slam of the partition door. The dragon tattooed boy guffawed loudly.

“Ken-chin… Rare of you to say stuff like that.”

“I was in a teasin’ mood,” he answered back with a toothy grin and chuckled, feeling satisfied for the payback she dealt him about Emma.

Recomposing herself at the door, she entered the kitchen to see the cookies were done. Partaking in the freshly baked good, she took a bite of the cookie; it was mildly sweet and buttery. She chased the treat down with a sip of the rose milk tea Emma brewed. It was like a piece of heaven touching her tongue. (Y/N)’s face showed a sudden expression of inner peace and tranquility, as if a halo radiated behind her.

This was what she needed after that weird exchange.

After sampling the cookies, they got to making a simplified version of truffles. Emma wanted to buy cute molds to pour the chocolates in, but were too pricey. (Y/N) demonstrated how to do it by spooning the chilled ganache into her hand. Rolling the cool treat in her palms to form into a ball, she then placed it into the bowl of cocoa powder to coat it and dropped it in clean bowl so it can be chilled after.

In the end, they made more than expected due to (Y/N) accidentally melting too much chocolate. After the last one was rolled, they put the bowl into the fridge and cleaned up while waiting for them to set; another hour later, they were ready to eat. Mikey and Draken then barged into the kitchen to get something to drink.

“Mikey!” Emma tutted. “Didn’t I say you weren’t allowed—”

“Whoa! Chocolates!” her brother stared at the bowl all starry eyed. “They look so good!”

“Emma-chan, I’m sure we can let them eat some,” (Y/N) advocated with a sympathetic tone. “It’s a lot for the three of us.”

“Besides,” Hina chimed in with a smile. “We need them to taste test, right?”

The two boys took one truffle each and ate it, carefully tasting it.

“How is it?” Emma asked nervously.

“It’s not as sweet as I thought it’d be,” Mikey commented and licked the cocoa powder off of his thumb. “But still good.”

“It's good but...” Draken thought for a beat. “Maybe something crunchy to go with it?”

After the sweets were polished off, Hina left since she promised to meet up with Takemichi for a little bit before heading home.

“What’ll you do, (Y/N)-chan?” Emma asked and sipped her tea.

“I don’t wanna go back yet,” she groaned out with slumped shoulders. “I think I’ve maxed out my mental bandwidth with studying.”

“Stay for dinner then?” the younger Sano suggested. “I’m making katsu tonight.”

“Oh my God. Yes,” she quickly affirmed with glitter shining in her orbs. “Have I told you I love you?”

“I thought you loved Yuzuha,” Mikey teased and ate a cookie, remembering her drunken statement from New Year’s.

“I can love more than one person,” she coolly replied.

While Emma got busy to preparing dinner and kicked (Y/N) out because her policy was guests don’t need to help. She followed Draken and Mikey back to his room to hang for a bit. En route, she saw a dojo with the wooden doors shut not too far from where they were.

“You wanna see the dojo?” Mikey piped up.

“I’m… curious,” she coyly responded.

Making their way in, the male Sano slid a door open to let his friends in. The only light source coming in was from the setting sun at the entrance way and the windows at the top of the room. It was still and peaceful with a scent of outside mixed with the people who were here before.

“When was the last time you were in here, Mikey?” Draken asked.

“It’s… been a while.” He looked at (Y/N)’s back analyzing the place with a sense of tranquility and wonder. “Grandpa’s been wanting me to stop by to demonstrate to his students.”

“Oh you have a wooden dummy!” she excitedly noted and briskly walked up to it, the light tapping of her approaching feet echoing in the space. Placing a palm on the main base, a flood of memories came back to her from when Jun was teaching her jeet kune do. “Rare for a karate dojo to have something like this.”

“Guess grandpa’s trying something new?” the male Sano shrugged.

Taking a light breath, (Y/N) struck the dummy at its center with her palm, the hit echoing in the room. She rolled up her sleeves and proceeded to interact with the rest of the pegs in forms of blocking and attacking. Every strike she hit reverberated as a form of expelled energy. The two spectated as she got into a rhythm with the dummy, as if showing them how to use it. Her arms were like interweaving river streams with every movement, each purposeful strike was like a small wave crashing into a rock.

With a final hit, she audibly exhaled and wiped a light sheen of sweat from her forehead.

“Sorry. I got too into it,” she let out an airy chuckle and placed her palm on the dummy again with a dull thud. “I always found fighting to be a physical form of communication.”

“How so?” asked Draken.

“It’s… intimate.” She drew her right hand back and looked at her palm before lightly clasping it into a fist. “You’re fully able to express yourself where words can’t.”

“I don’t get it,” the tall tattooed boy scratched the back of his neck. (Y/N) gestured him to come closer to her.

“Hit me.”

“What?”

“Not for real. Like sparring,” she clarified. “Come on. Humor me.”

Draken audibly sighed and slumped his shoulders. Slowly approaching her, he released a combo with his right and left straights at barely half strength, to which she easily blocked by pushing his arms away.

“’I don’t wanna hurt you. This is dumb.’” she said with a smirk. “That’s what your fists were telling me.”

“Well obviously!” he stated with annoyance. “Anyone with eyes could see that!”

“Let me try,” Mikey chimed in.

“What? No way! You’re too strong,” Draken frowned. “You’ll knock her out.”

“You know I’d never hit a girl, Ken-chin,” he firmly declared with a small smile. The vice commander already knew what Mikey was going to do: he gave him that look of curiosity and wanted to test how strong she was. He knew anything he’d say after this would fall on deaf ears.

“Just… be careful, (Y/N)-chan,” the tall boy warned. “Don’t get carried away.”

The two faced each other as the room got darker from the dying light outside. Waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dark, Mikey made the first move with his signature roundhouse. Foreseeing this, (Y/N) went on the defensive and successfully blocked it with her right arm.

“Oh? It’s like that huh?” she remarked and shook her limb out from the sting. Even at half strength, his kicks packed a punch.

“If I went all out, you’d be out cold,” Mikey pointed out with a smirk and attacked again. (Y/N) managed to block a few of the punches and kicks he threw and ended up being struck on her left shoulder and let out a small grunt. She stepped back and rotated her shoulders, letting out a breath to reset.

“Not bad,” she praised with an amused grin. “My turn.”

Stepping into Mikey’s space, she unleashed a few fast jabs, hooks and kicks at him as he bobbed and weaved through them by a breath’s hair. Her hits didn’t look like it from an audience’s point of view, but they were fast and had weight behind it. The blond knew she was holding back her strength too, mentally admitting to himself he’d be in trouble should he ever get hit by them.

He noticed there was no wasted movement or momentum with her and each attack had intent. (Y/N)’s last right hook lightly grazed his cheek from the amount of power she let out, leaving a red mark. The sting was as sharp as a knife cutting his skin.

“Oh dang. Sorry!” She immediately stopped. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” he replied with a smile and rubbed the area she touched. “But we should stop here.”

“We were getting a little too intense for Draken,” she agreed and chuckled. “He was holding his breath the whole time.”

“I don’t wanna hear you two cry ‘bout it if either of you got hurt!” he angrily grunted.

Wrapping up their brief sparring session, Emma came out on time to let everyone know dinner was ready. They all contently ate while talking about nonsensical things and laughing. Draken had to head back to the salon not long after, remembering he had to cover for the manager at the front desk tonight for the night shift. Realizing how late it was getting, (Y/N) decided to head out as well.

“Thanks for dinner, Emma-chan. It was so good!” she complimented while putting her shoes on.

“Come by anytime! In exchange…” She leaned into the side of her right ear. “You have to tell me what’s going on with you and Mitsuya.”

“On second thought, I think I can manage on my own,” she deadpanned and made final adjustments on her left shoe before standing.

“Meanie!” she pouted and crossed her arms.

“If there’s anything going on…” (Y/N) continued with her back facing her and turned her head with a gentle smile. “… I’ll do my best to let you know.”

Saying their good nights, she exited the house and saw Mikey wearing his white Toman bomber jacket on top of his casual clothes on Babu.

“I’ll take you back.”

Taglist: @netzukochannn @toobsessedsstuff @owiee12 @wakasasucker

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Can- can I just talk about the Victuuri relationship? Pretty please?

I just…. I’ve never seen a healthy relationship that starts from idolization and a need to get out that has ended in a satisfying way.

Let me elaborate:

We all know that Yuri idolized Victor. It’s why he was so nervous in the beginning and why it took time for them to build on their relationship, he saw Victor as a god.

Victor? He was depressed. He loved the ice so much but he longer found excitement in competitions. He didn’t have any worthy opponents that had a chance of beating him (sorry Chris).

I believe Victor “fell in love” at the banquet. He was attracted to Yuri but, even though he lost, he also saw potential in him. That night was probably the most exciting night for him in a long time. I think he felt genuine affection for Yuri but also saw a way to get out of his predicament.

Then, of course, Yuri didn’t show up the following season (a year had passed before the present timeline). He was most likely annoyed that someone who had gave him excitement didn’t show up. Did he think Yuri had a chance of beating him at first? Probably not. Did he see potential or at least someone he could have fun with during the season? Hell yes!

And then when he saw the video of Yuri skating Stay Close To Me, something that awarded him a gold medal. That’s all he needed. He saw how Yuri not only skated it perfectly but I bet he thought Yuri skated it better. Let’s not forget that emotion is a huge part of skating. If you don’t skate with the passion your supposed to hold for whatever theme you have, your performance can almost seem futile. Victor obviously won because he perfected it but if it was based on how he presented it alone, he would’ve lost. He saw someone worthy of skating an gold medal piece while also having the heart to do it. That’s talent.

Anyways, because of this, their relationship doesn’t hold well in the beginning. He’s passive aggressive towards Yuri because he doesn’t see his own talent and Yuri is just going along for the ride because holy shit it’s Victor fucking Nikiforov.

As they get to know each other and Yuri opens up more (plus Victor getting info on Yuri from the others) Victor starts to see Yuri as an actual person and not someone he can use to project himself onto and then later skate against. And Yuri starts to see him as an actual person too.

I saw on another post talking about how we didn’t see them during the summer and how the end credits of every episode suggest they got to know each other better as both in the credits and in the show they (Yuri) are able to touch each other more. I 100% believe this.

I also believe they might’ve had an argument or two on this topic. It’s not easy to switch from inadvertently seeing someone as anything but a person to an actual person with emotions and feelings. I believe Victor would’ve tried to back away from this subject but Yuri wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t big arguments like in episode 7. It was probably little quarrels that annoyed them both but after having a long conversation they finally started to become more comfortable with each other.

Yuri started letting go of the notion that Victor was a god like creature and Victor saw him as something other than a pawn. Yuri stopped getting as embarrassed with Victor touching him and Victor stopped trying to seduce him as much just so he could see the man from the banquet.

This most definitely leads the way towards a healthier relationship but episode 7 was inevitable. Yuri’s anxiety was at an all time high when he comes out on top. The fact that he needs to stay on top and not mess up is getting to him. As a person with anxiety, it’s pure hell. The thoughts of failing won’t get out of his head and even as he turns off all the monitors he can still hear everything.

Victor takes him away from prying eyes and has no idea what to do. Despite an obvious change that would’ve had to include some emotions from both occurring over the summer, he still has no idea how to help someone in distress.

Then he makes his first mistake. Yuri is visibly shaken by someone’s scores (can’t remember who) and Victor, who is at his wits end, yells at him to stop listening and puts his hands over Yuri’s ears. This tells Yuri how nervous Victor is too and despite knowing that Victor wouldn’t leave him now it shows to him that Victor doesn’t have faith in him (even if he does).

Victor tried to shatter Yuri’s heart. He must’ve expected Yuri to maybe sign heavily but tell him that he’ll do everything in his power to win (probably something that’s happened with him and Yakov). Instead he see’s the consequences of his carelessness. Yuri rightfully lashes out at him and even through all that Victor stills says “should I kiss you?”. Idk what Yuri was thinking but if I were him I would be extremely offended that Victor would try and use me like some doll he can play with and can assume that physical affection and love can fix everything, which was probably what Yuri was thinking.

There’s something off about Yuri and Victor when they emerge but Yuri is surprisingly better now. Cathartic crying can do wonders, kids. There’s also my favorite part of the entire show (couldn’t find a gif):

*head jab* “Hey, fuck you.”

*more head jabs* “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I know you don’t like this you unempathetic dicknip.”

*head pat* “You’re forgiven.”

We all know what happens next: Yuri ends his love story with Victor’s signature move and Victor kisses him out of joy and the need to one up him (with love, of course).

I’m gonna get a little sloppy here with the timeline because I have the memory of a female protagonist that needs to go back to work to get something only to accidentally bump into the jerk CEO of which she will develop a toxic relationship for fan service, so forgive me.

Gonna skip ahead to the scene where Yuri tells Victor that he’s leaving skating, and basically Victor too. (At this moment I realized I’ve been spelling Viktor with a c and not a k which is really fucking with my brain but it’s too late to go back). Victor starts crying and realizes just how Yuri felt when he was rejecting him.

I believe Yuri found some light in the situation because of that fact, which Victor was not having. They’ve been closer than ever now. They’ve kissed, they’ve also announced they they’re getting married, so what the hell?!

Yuri, as we know, feels he’s keeping Victor from the ice. Victor, while he misses the ice and wouldn’t mind being competitive again, has found meaning and if he’s going to be Yuri’s coach to stay where he is than so be it.

He wanted to coach Yuri because he wanted a worthy competitor and while he still wants that, what matters most now is his relationship with Yuri. If he stops being Yuri’s coach and Yuri goes off the ice he knows it will be the end. Yuri loves the ice too and I’d bet he’d try to distance himself from Victor as to not feel regret from leaving without actually knowing that he’s doing it.

They’ve grown so much at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. After all they’ve been through Yuri doesn’t realize that consequences of parting from one another. While being too dependent on your spouse isn’t good, it’s what they both need right now. They are what caused the other person to be happy again and while I hate those types of storylines this one executed it perfectly.

I find Victor’s silent plea to Yurio absolutely heartbreaking. He knows it’s bad to put pressure on people but now he’s doing that to a 15 year old boy. He’s putting his relationship and his life into this child’s hands because he knows there’s nothing else he can do.

I do think Yurio had a crush on Yuri but even if he didn’t: Yuri has taught him so much. He, although being an ass most of the time, has really come to love Yuri as family. It’s clear that Yurio was always lonely (Otabek being his first friend and all) but once he came to Japan and lived, truly lived there, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Yurio wins, Yuri gets silver and all’s well that ends well.

I guess my point of this was to show how well the relationship in YOI was. I could’ve included some more detail on some points but I usually write stuff in one take (it’s very hard to revise without my mind shutting on itself).

I just love how an implicitly toxic relationship can come out so healthy. They don’t do any of that miscommunication bullshit and when they do it’s because the characters don’t know what to do or how to handle something. Like humans do!

They could’ve easily made this the hot famous guy thinks the kawai girl boy is just so adorable and the kawai girl boy is absolutely infatuated with the hot guy. Hijinks ensue which includes the kawai girl boy thinking the hot guy is in love with someone else. She He gets pushed into thinking that she’s he’s more independent in the end and happily ever after for the couple that will divorce in less than five years! Yay!

Seriously, I thought that was what was going to happen but YOI subverted my expectations so much. They are people that grew from their bad mindsets. And you know what? Yuri still has anxiety! Victor is still bad with handling emotions! And that’s ok! We don’t change that quickly. It takes time and hopefully another season.

I’m definitely using this show as a template for healthy relationships. It’s so hard for me to properly write them when I’ve never been in one and I’m not given the chance to see it happen in different environments (when searching it up all I get is “they trust each other. They blame each other. They’re compassionate.” Like ok but can you show me how?)

Yuri!!! On ice…. I love you so much. You have done so much for my mental health and my writing. Thank you.

[jinxhallows]

You Are The Prototype (100 Follower Celebration Fluff - Felix (SKZ) x Reader

What the heck yinz guys?! How did I hit 100 followers?! I don’t even think I got that far when I first started writing fanfiction on tumblr like 10+ years ago.  This random drabble means a lot to me for a couple reasons lol....first, its my 100 follower celebration! Second, I am a very shy bean these days when it comes to writing real people.  I’m not sure why, since one of my most incredibly popular fics to date was a full length + sequel series of a Bruno Mars Vampire AU I wrote in 2010 LOL (its still out there in the tumblr-verse if you can find it LOL!).  

I guess the world has grown more sensitive to these kinds of things so I tread lightly; but with the help of my new friend Kai, I’ve been introduced to this fantastic human (and many others!) and would appreciate it if you guys would allow me to celebrate 100 amazing people supporting my writing with this bit o’ fluff.

One more thing! I have some WIPs now (how exciting!), so if you’re interested, here’s what I’ve got in the works to be posted soon:

- Chaotic Freewrite Pt. 9  - Method Writing feat. Lucifer (Pt. 2) - 40′s Asylum Patient Levi (collab) - Karma Akabane (collab)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT.  It really means the world to me.  Every single one of yinz. I’ve met and interacted with so many wonderful souls here.  I don’t even know what some of yall look like and you share my deepest secrets.  Please take my hand and trust me as we continue to grow together during this journey. I love you very much for accepting me.  Enjoy.

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

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴛʏᴘᴇ - 100 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! (ꜰᴇʟɪx ꜱᴋᴢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

ᴄᴡ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: ıllıllı １.８k ıllıllı

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

I hope that you’re the one...

If not,

You are the prototype.

Prototype by OutKast (piano cover)

Raucous sounds of combined laughter filled your duplex.  You were certain the neighbors next door could hear everything going on and were likely wondering what prompted this kind of boisterous fun on a Tuesday evening.

You had to work in the late afternoon, so you felt it was reasonable and necessary to succumb to your cravings at 11pm for the chocolate chip pecan cookies you used to love as a child. Besides, your boyfriend was a pretty damn good cook and a bit of an insomniac himself.  He’s sitting atop the edge of the kitchen table, beaming down at you, all freckled and brown-eyed; his bleached golden hair tousled over his head.

He watches you as you happily ramble, speaking entirely too fast and too loud. Anybody else might have tapped out by now, but Felix remained steadfast, instinctively drawn to your bright, bubbly personality, enamored by every excited word that fell from your plump lips.

He’s holding a big, white ceramic bowl of wet and dry cookie mix ingredients, stirring the wooden spoon every so often as he nods to let you know he’s still with you on every word of your speech.

You finally take a deep breath, coming to the end of your roundabout explanation.

“So, can you help me? Pretty please?” You add on the last part, hoping the bat of your lashes sealed the deal for you.  Little did you realize, Felix would’ve done nearly anything for you.  He loved you.  You two had fell into the natural rhythm of your relationship two years ago.  What you were asking was simple of him; you were a theatre major in college and needed to complete a final speech for dialect class.  You chose Australian.  You were good at faking a believable high British dialect, could it be much different?

Instead, the subtle nuances proved to be more challenging than you had anticipated; so it made sense to ask your Aussie boyfriend to help you out. Who else was there to ask, after all? You didn’t think it would be this frustrating when you picked it up to begin with.  You’ve heard him speak to you all the time—over the phone, in person, Facetime; it even came out in a strangely sexy way during intimacy.  You thought you could mimic it with no qualms, but your mouth just refused to cooperate with your brain.

“Do I ever say no to you?” He asks with a lopsided grin, plopping a dollop of cookie dough on your nose.  “What’s your speech about?”

“Well...” You giggle, trying to lick your nose, “It’s gonna sound really dumb and simple–”

“Try me.” He grins, leaning forward to take care of the work for you, swiping the cookie dough off with a flick of his tongue.

You’re standing between his legs that dangle mid-air off of the table.  You place your hands on his thighs, rubbing back and forth a few times before you give a deep sigh, “I just told the story of how we got Doobie.”

Doobie was the dog you both shared, sleeping peacefully in her bed across the kitchen.

“You make the biggest deal out of nothing, you know that?” He leans down and kisses your nose, pushing himself off of the table so he can continue with the baking process.  “You made it seem like you were going to ask me to have sex with you for a show and tell project or something.” He chuckles as he sets the bowl on the table and begins to pick up dollops of cookie dough out of the bowl, rolling it between his clean palms, rounding the cookies out into perfect shapes and placing them on the cookie sheet.

“Now that is quite an idea…” You know it could never happen, but goodness, just the thought of your boyfriend spreading you out on a desk for all of your classmates to see–

“Bring it back here, Y/N.” He snaps greasy, flour dusted fingers in front of your face, lifting a brow.  A kind, simple way to nudge your focus back on the task at hand.  He had a unique way of being incredibly sweet, but taking control of you when necessary.  “The speech?”

“Right!” You bring your attention span back to the present for a moment.  You begin your speech, trying the best Australian dialect that you can muster.  Felix tries to focus on the cookies being placed on the sheet; but when you get to the third sentence, his can’t help the laugh that breaks through his tightly closed lips.

“Shit..is this for a grade, Y/N?” He finally looks up at you from the cookie sheet, his brown eyes locking onto your own, twinkling in amusement.  

You nod slowly, “Is it that bad?”

Felix is rubbing the dough between his palms, smoothing out the final cookie.  “If your teacher knows anything about dialects, that’s a solid C-.” he places it on the sheet before looking at you, “I might be being generous since I love you.” He’s trying to not laugh again, as he places a few stray pieces of pecans atop the cookies that lay on the sheet.

“C’mon baby, I’m serious.  It’s due in three weeks!” You pick up the tray, carrying it across the room to place into the pre-heated oven.

“Alright, alright.  I get it.” he becomes a bit more serious; but before he begins, he asks, “Is the timer set?”

You set your phone onto the table, counting down from 14 minutes.  “Ready when you are.” You sit at the kitchen table, pulling out your phone notes with the full speech inside of it.

“Let me see it.” He grasps the phone from you, his free hand dropping onto your knee.  He strokes the fabric of your pajamas with his thumb absentmindedly as his lips silently move, eyes narrowing as he focuses on reading all of the text you had written down.  He starts typing into the notes, thumbs moving quickly and efficiently.  You want to ask what is he up to, but decide to just be grateful for the help instead.  A minute or two passes, and Felix hands your phone back to you.

“Try to read it now.” He suggests, watching you intently as you scan over the phonetics he’s added to help with pronunciation.

You sound as if you’re reading a foreign language for the first time as you sound out the first sentence, “The car ride to the farm didn’t give me a single clue to what the future held.” You speak in a staggering manner, dropping the “r” at the end of car, adding emphasis to the “u” in ‘future’ (which was sounding a bit more like fee-you-cha).  The e’s became i’s, and the i’s became oi’s, so on and so forth, phonetically speaking.  Finally, you look up at Felix for approval.

You’re about to smack fire out of him when you see he’s about to laugh again.

Noticing your impending frustration as your brows knit together, he leans forward out of his chair to give you a kiss of encouragement before he pulls his chair closer next to yours, taking your phone and pointing out the lines to you.  “You’re thinkin’ about it way too much.”

“It’s my final exam for this class and 50% of my grade.” You give him a defeated look, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

The smell of freshly baked cookies begins to waft throughout the air.

His eyes flit across your face for a moment.  He’s thinking of what to say to make you feel at ease, a little better.  Felix heard you practicing your dialects all day, nearly everyday for this advanced level class ever since the semester began.  He knew you had it in you to learn something so simple; but you always got in your own way with the imposter syndrome that was eating at you from the inside out.  Felix was always good at that–at making sure you felt as capable as you truly were.

“Baby, you’re gonna kill this.  I know it.”

Ding.

The cookie timer begins to ring.

You turn the notification off as Felix ambles over to open the stove, grabbing oven mitts and pulling the tray out and setting it atop the stove.  He waves his hand over them, purely out of habit, and takes a whiff, his eyes closing in pure bliss.  

Suddenly, he turns around to you excitedly.  “I have an idea.” he says, his complexion begins to flush with reddened nervousness that he tried not to show, instead, displaying masked determination.  “Your exam is in three weeks, right?”

“It is…”

“What if–” He places his hands out, trying to get you to not jump further than where he was headed in the conversation.  “What if, I took you to meet my family finally?” He finally blurts, waiting on your reply with bated breath.

You feel a combination of shock and excitement climbing your nerves.  “Y-You want me to meet your family, Felix?” You repeat.

He rolls his eyes, “Yes that’s what I just said!”

“I mean–” Your heartrate is climbing at top speed with anticipatory anxiety, “Yes?” You say it again to sound more sure of yourself, “Yes! Yes…I would…I would be honored.” Your voice softens.  You feel stupid hot, fat tears welling in your eyes.  Both of your past relationships had never given you the opportunity to meet their families, let alone in an completely different country.

“ ‘I would be honored’ ” Felix mocks you lovingly with soft tone, “Just relax baby, they’re gonna adore you.  And...” he kneels down in front of you, reaching up to wipe a tear before it gets to fall down your cheek.

“I’ll make sure you pass your final with flying colors.” He smiles at you, “You know I love you, right?”

A few relentless tears drop anyhow.

“I love you too, Felix.” 

[e-milieeee]

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming. 

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells. 

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it. 

Fics masterlist here! 

[dadsbongos]

Treehouse

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader (and a lot of other people) Warnings: Spoilers for bakugou’s hero name ahead!!, songfic for this song Summary: Katsuki’s grown a lot since middle school, hasn’t he? ~~~

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

Katsuki looked down at the girl in his arms, eyes fluttered shut and lashes fallen over her cheeks. Lips parted ever so slightly to let out puffs of even, laxed breathing. The golden sunlight shone in her hair as it beamed through his thin curtains, soft warmth spreading over both of their bodies. His fingers carefully danced over the tender skin of her arm as he held her close. Her head over his chest and he was sure that the sound of his thunderous heartbeat would wake her eventually.

It felt nice, he concluded, to hold his love so dearly. To let his chest deflate and not have to be the best of the best. He didn’t have to be anyone. He didn’t have to be Bakugou, Katsuki - top of the class. Bakugou, Katsuki - Dynamight. Bakugou, Katsuki - Kacchan. Bakugou, Katsuki.

If he didn’t want to, he didn’t have to be anyone. She’d hold him just as close with any other persona he wanted to wear. It was his real security. His real home - right in her arms. A home he didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t sure when it hit him. Just one of those random thoughts you never expect but deep down, you knew the entire time. Something so simple and yet so earth shattering that merely breathing it into existence seemed catastrophic. He wasn’t sure when it hit him that he was terrified of losing her. So innately terrified that the very thought was enough to send his muscles a tremor.

The feeling, it wasn’t nice. But he knew exactly what was - living the life he could with (Y/n).

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Man, you’re really saving my ass here, Bakubro!” Eijiro grinned, exposing his unnatural shark teeth.

Katsuki huffed, “Don’t think about it, shitty hair. You’re still not passing.”

“I know, I know,” the redhead nervously grinned, eyeing the rolled up newspaper in Katsuki’s hand as he did so, “It’s just manly of you to help me is all. You’ve changed, man, it’s kinda cool.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Eijiro put down his pencil, “It’s cool.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t retort further. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, that usually would’ve gotten Kirishima, Eijiro a first-class newspaper swatting but he supposed he could let it pass. Just this once. 

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. I'm really glad you think I'm so funny. I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

Denki bit at his bottom lip in concentration, more effort going into thinking about cracking the egg in his hand than actually cracking the egg in his hand. His brows were drawn tight toward his face, contemplating how he should go about his cracking to avoid a mess. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he’d gotten shell in the bowl and yolk all on the counter and his fingers. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he felt like an utter fool. 

Looking over to the electric blond, Katsuki snarled at how little the boy had gotten done. Walking over, he took the egg still encased in its roughened shell from Denki in one hand and a bowl in the other. Tilting the porcelain bowl just right, Katsuki snapped the egg against the lip of the dish, pulling his fingers apart to hold the crack in the egg open so the yolk could drool down. Tossing out the eggshell, Katsuki watched as Denki took an egg for himself before copying exactly what the explosive teenager had done.

As two yolks drowned together in whites within their little bowl, Denki sung the praises of his dear friend, of Bakugou, Katsuki - and in Denki’s opinion, apparently, a masterchef. 

Nodding stiffly, Katsuki turned back to his own task at buttering the pan as it laid atop its burner. He let silence rule the kitchen until Denki would break it with a lame joke he would never admit he liked.

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

“You have such great lid space, though,” Mina clasped her hands tighter, “I think it’d be fun!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath before sighing and tossing his head back, “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Starting fucking now.”

Squealing, Mina hopped onto the common room couch before unzipping her makeup bag, “Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, barely managing to hold his underlying frustration inside, “Your damn funeral if you fuck up.”

“I won’t…” Mina pouted, “C’mon, don’t you believe in me? Just a little? You’ve seen what I can do.”

“I’ll believe for now.”

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Oh, didn’t know the balconies were occupied,” Hanta awkwardly muttered.

Katsuki looked up from the ground below, brows furrowed and eyes stinging, “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.”

Putting his hands up, Hanta showed off that stupidly large, stupidly infectious grin, “Hey, man, everyone needs a good cry. I think it keeps us sane.”

Nodding silently, Katsuki stood at his railing, head hanging over and eyes clenched shut in a new effort to keep his tears in.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Maybe, instead of dying, you could just vent to a trusted friend who cares about you?” Hanta suggested, “You go to (L/n), right? Well, now you can come to me, too. We’re friends, Bakugou, we’re there for each other.”

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. 

Stirring inside his mind, were the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself since that fight. His real fight with Izuku. Where Katsuki won. The successor to All Might and boy wonder was beaten by Katsuki. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Izuku was making progress fast, far too fast. He was leaping towards the top and Katsuki could only watch on, feet trapped in the cement. The ground swallowing his body as Deku, the Quirkless one, the useless one, the crybaby, bound forward in success.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t enough. Bakugou, Katsuki was simply not enough.

That’s what he was beginning to believe; where he couldn’t even save himself from villains, Deku came rushing in to save him and succeeded. 

Sitting at the kitchen island, alone, in the middle of the night, that’s what Katsuki was beginning to believe.

Lights flicker on, “Kacchan?”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki pretended there was no voice. Nobody behind him. No one but him awake at this awful hour.

“You’re usually in bed by now. Way before, actually.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be one. Izuku sat beside Katsuki all the same, an uneven, slightly nervous, smile on his face as he did so.

Katsuki opened his eyes, looking at the other boy from the corner of his peripheral, “You’ve made the power yours.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Thanks… you know, I’ve been meaning to ask… would you- would you train with me sometime? I think that I could really improve if I fought someone like you.” 

“Someone like me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Strong. Well-versed in your Quirk. Other than Todoroki, you’re probably the best at Quirk application, so I wanted to see if I could fight you.”

“Ask daddy issues.”

“But then we couldn’t have our rematch. I still need to beat you, Kacchan, you know?”

I'm really glad you think I'm so funny.

Katsuki found himself staring at the back of Izuku’s head, brows furrowed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see her. (L/n), (Y/n) smiling at him softly, perfect lips tugged into a perfect grin on her perfect face. God, what he wouldn’t give to just grab her and kiss the smile off her face just to do it all over again. What he wouldn’t give to scream to the world he loved her.

“You okay? You’re tense.”

Glancing to the front, Shota still sleepily tucked in his sleeping bag in a corner of the room, Katsuki nodded, “Fucking fine. Just thinking.”

Setting her chin in the palm of her hand, (Y/n) tilted her head ever so slightly, “Wanna tell me about it?” shaking his head, the ash-blond went to refuse when she spoke up again, “Not here, if you wanna wait.”

He felt almost unworthy. Losing to Deku, killing the legacy of All Might, getting kidnapped by villains - Bakugou, Katsuki felt unworthy of his own lover’s comforts. Looking at the face of an angel would make you crazy - at least that’s what his father told him once. And so, he nodded slowly, “Sure. Later. Alone, though, I’m not talking shit in front of Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face.”

“Whatever you need,” she murmured, giggling quietly to herself, “I’m here.”

I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

“I’ll say this once.”

He burned the image of them into his brain. (Y/n) and Eijiro on either side of him on the common room couch. Denki just about ready to cut through the carrot cake Mina and Hanta slaved over despite trashing on the choice the entire time. Izuku was slightly off to the side, ready to hand off gifts to his childhood rival.

Katsuki sighed quietly, looking to his feet when a hand grabbed his, (Y/n) rubbing her thumb into his skin. He swallowed his pride before letting everything he felt about each and every person in the room manifest into the best phrase someone like him could imagine.

“Thanks. For everything.”

[jamestrmtx]

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Six, Scene Two | Fight or Flight

[Act One Link] | [Act Six, Scene One Link] | [Act Six Scene Three Link]

Your hopes over maintaining a routine are put to the test the moment after you're done studying for the day. 

The library's locked, door refusing to so much as budge with your attempts at using force. With the others having parted ways from you more than an hour ago, you're left on your own, with no other choice but to look outside the window to see the hallways, these scarce of illumination and with not a person around as far as your line of sight goes.

Fearing you've been locked in, you try to open the door again, though you stop yourself at the sound of laughter, heard from outside. "A month," the voice says, chuckling. "That's all it took for you to become the 'next one'." You back away from the door, remaining cautious regardless of not seeing the person anywhere around. "I'm positive the next paper's headline will be enough to make everyone remember this isn't over yet. You've grown far too comfortable already, (Y/N)."

Fear pushes you to rummage through your bag, mind desperate to find any source of safety from its contents. From it, you retrieve a pocket knife and make sure everything's set in place to avoid being delayed, if the event of defending yourself really came to it. Wherever the person was, they were still outside, and whoever they were, they clearly intended to toy around with you before lashing out any sort of attack. 

"First a wolf and a rabbit, and now a wolf and a lamb?" Another laugh's let out, this one louder than the last. "I can understand why many still refer to you as a lamb rather than a sheep." A pause follows, sending a shiver down your body. "Sheep are supposed to be more grown and experienced, something you're not, little lamb."

Thunk.

Your gaze snaps to the noise, sounding near the voice, though there's nothing or nobody around by the time you look towards it.

Swallowing your tension, you hold onto the strap of your bag tighter than before and clutch the knife closer to you. The rule of never going out at night seems useless with your current situation, it still being five in the evening and your location the library. What makes the halls dark and brings your life to peril is having no lights turned on and being left alone to fend off whoever the owner behind the voice is. Had you known something like this would've been so close to happening, you would've followed Jack and the others not a second after they all gathered to leave.

Never go out at night.

What sense did that warning make now?

You're inside a library, and it's still evening!

That question stays on your mind as the thumps grow louder, these sending your thoughts into a scramble as you try to make sense of what could be producing them. While you weren't outside, you were alone and were still getting accustomed to how big the school was. If anything, the rule you'd been taught could use a little more wording now. Perhaps, 'have common sense; don't be dumb or negligent or both, and remember not to walk alone in unknown places', sounded better than simply isolating yourself from the world as soon as the sun fell and the clock struck seven. 

Thunk!

As a figure emerges into the library, your instincts kick in and you bleat out your fear, a sound you try to cover with a hand over your mouth while the rest of your body looks for a place to hide in. You go under the nearest table and blink away through blurry vision, tears unknowingly making their way out. Your breathing's shallow, yet you try to compose yourself to see who the person is. 

Rather than figuring out their identity, something near impossible to do with you tearing up and having fear eat up your vision, you hear laughter; muffled giggles, specifically. 

"I- I'm sorry," you hear Juno say, sounding genuinely apologetic despite her laughter. When you blink a few more times, you can see her clutching onto her stomach and her tail wagging. She has tears in her eyes, too, though for an entirely different reason compared to you. "I thought I'd go look for you since it was so late already, but I didn't exactly consider our situation here." She wipes her tears away and looks across the room, snout twitching as she sniffs around for you. "And I'm sorry to say this at a time like this, but that bleat was the cutest thing I've heard all day!" You tense and brace yourself when she nears your hiding place, involuntarily. "Hiding was good thinking, though, (Y/N)."

A few more sniffs, and she finally crouches down to your hiding level. Her eyes soften the second she sees you, a hand offered to you. "Can you stand?" she asks, still waiting. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Still shaken, you stare at her hand for a moment and bring your breaths back to a calmer level. You wipe yours against your skirt, leftover fear still making you perspire. She waits all the while, even after you take her hand and nod in response. "I'm... I'm okay," you reply, breathing out. "It was my fault." Your voice is stern, the plain risk you'd set yourself to one you remind yourself could've been easily avoided, had you been more conscious of the dangers that were still around. Common sense would've implied you not being alone for longer than necessary and having chosen to follow Jack back to your dorm. "I… I should've known it would be risky to be all alone like this." You can't bring yourself to tell her about the voice, wanting nothing more than to be out of this place and explain things to her after you regained some sense of clarity back into your thoughts. "I should've been more careful."

You let her hand go and fix your clothes, skirt having stained itself in the process of your hiding. Your throat hurts, though it's to be expected, given how long it's been since you last strained your vocal chords. Last time, you were only eight, and it was for you having snuck out and chosen to meet up with the neighbouring tiger family a few blocks across. Back then, you were more fearless, and the only reason for your fright had been due to you being caught in the way of making it back home unsuspecting.

"Still," Juno speaks up, bringing you out of those thoughts. "I forgot how careful we have to be now." She frowns, her entire body drooping as she meets with your eyes. "I almost forgot what we are. I… I almost forgot we were wolf and sheep, until I heard your cry and noticed it was let out of fear, not just surprise."

You gather your belongings again and follow her out of the library, steps slowed down to keep up with her pace. She's looking away from you now, gaze meeting with the little lighting left around the halls. Quiet falls as you wait for her to carry on, feeling as if she still has a lot more left to say. "Before I realized what I'd done, that sound was the most endearing thing I'd heard. But then I saw you weren't around, sniffed the air for you, and the gravity over what I'd done finally came to me."

Seeing she's lost herself in her thoughts, you tug at the sleeve of her shirt and try to voice out what's on your mind, "It's... It's really okay, Juno. Like I said, it was-"

Your questions over where the voice had come from are answered when you both stumble upon a new face, identity hidden by the poor lighting in where they stand. The wolf beside you snaps back to the present almost instantly, fur spiking as she bares her teeth at the figure. She takes a few steps back and pulls you along for you to do the same. Then, she holds your hand again, tighter as a growl leaves her mouth. 

When you see she's not intending to ask over the person's identity, it's then that you realize her reason for looking for you had been more than just to pick you up at the library. 

"So you thought you were 'one of them', huh?" the person asks, toothy smile glinting into view with the scarce lighting that shines over the person. "That's the most naive thing I've heard any carnivore say." Though it's too dark to see most of their face, you can tell when their eyes fall on you, making you grow more wary than you already are. "And you," they add, a laugh following after it. "What made you think you were ready for this school, if you let out a noise like that barely a month into you moving in? With that attitude, you're the easiest prey around, (Y/N)!"

Juno's hand loosens and moves up to your arm, grabbing it just as strongly. "Let's go," she whispers, teeth still clenched.

You hesitate, mind conflicted on whether to follow her along or confront the person over their words. The ones about you being negligent were noted and accepted, but calling out Juno for simply seeing you as her friend makes anger rise and cling onto your thoughts. Fear balances itself with a sudden need to defend, and you can only face at the person with a glare, the hand on your arm reminding you over the growing danger of your situation.

Whoever the person before you was, it didn't exactly erase the fact you were pissed off at those words, Juno's good intentions resonating with you.

• • •

Apologies for the author's note on the last update! I got my IRL schedule mixed up and thought it was Wednesday instead of Monday when I posted the chapter, so that conflicted with this story’s update schedule mentioned previously. (AKA: The holidays left me unaware of the concept of time, lol.)

As a result, I've fixed the author's note on the last chapter to avoid any future readers' confusion, and I’ve now fixed up and re-established the update schedule as such:

Twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays until reaching Act Twelve, then once a week on Wednesdays after that chapter!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 13

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N:  i should make it a game out of finding musical references in my chapters. hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - Well, if it’s any worth .. I don���t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them.  

She had the softest look in her face and for the first time Sebastian couldn’t pin point if it was because she was being truly honest or if the sleepless nights had started to weight on her complexion. Nevertheless, there was no wavering in her voice, no shadow of a doubt, no fear, no nothing. She was just there looking at him with the same innocence she looked at everything in life. He thought that no matter what he’d done in his youth, in his childhood or early adult years, he must’ve done something good for she was standing next to him either she should or shouldn’t. 

    - C’mon ... - he stepped off the chair, softly wrapping his hand around hers before taking off to the lift, grabbing an umbrella on his way in. Y/N starred at him in confusion as he pressed one of the various buttons on the lift’s panels. Nevertheless, she remained quiet, softly examining every single detail of his face from his eyes to the stubble that had grown from the last time she had seen him. Lowering her gaze, she inspected her his hand wrapped around hers which brought another surge of heat to her face leading to her looking at any other thing rather than that.

The lift stopped and opened in what looked like the terrace. Sebastian was the first to step off, opening the umbrella as she stepped off the lift and onto the rainy night. Holding her closer to his side, he walked all the way to the terrace’s railing which gave a breath taking view of the Upper East Side’s night sky with all its bright lights. 

   - It is not Paris but I thought you might enjoy it. - he looked down at her but she had her eyes on the city landscape and how beautiful it looked when it was being rained upon. 

   - It’s beautiful, Seb ... - her eyes widened as her mouth decided to speak without going through her brain first. - I mean Mr. Stan, Sebastian. You should probably go to bed, I mean, it’s been a long day. 

   - I’ll go to bed if you come with me. - Sebastian smirked at Y/N who had to blink a few times to wonder if she had heard it correctly. Oh no, absolutely not. Gwen would have her head on a stick and even if she didn’t Y/N had absolutely no idea how to go about and do bed business. - Not like that, Y/N. 

   - Well, I ... I have to go to bed because ... because of Gwen.

   - Because of Gwen? - he furrowed his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as she rushed over to the lift pressing the button with as much might as she could. Sighing, he walked to the lift that had quickly arrived. - Alright, because of Gwen. 

  - She might need my help, Sebastian.

  - I’m sure she’ll need help hiding the hickeys made by my staff. - Y/N stopped in her tracks, turning around to look at him. - You surely know she’s not very discreet?

  - You can’t tell her that you know, she’ll think I told you and she’ll be mad at me.

    - I don’t really care about who Gwen brings into her bed. Besides, I would never get you in trouble ... - he lightly picked her chin staring at her beautiful yet worried eyes at the thought he would tell Gwen he knew about her affairs. Y/N bite her bottom lip, lashes fluttering before he leaned down to kiss her. She would like to say she was caught off guard but she really wasn’t as her hands lightly gripped onto his unruly brown locks. 

They continued to kiss as if they were protagonists of a Jane Austen novels who constantly had to remain apart fear of being discovered by society. In some sense, they sort of were and Y/N was very conscious over the fact that they were kissing in the lift that could open at any second. It wasn’t until he bit her plump bottom lip that she was taken from her dazed pink romantic daydreaming state. The unfamiliar sensation led her to let out a small high pitched moan which she hoped wouldn’t have been recognised by the mob boss. Unfortunately to her, it was very much heard and he started to move his lips from hers to her chin, jaw and then neck, igniting the fire even more. She could feel his lips sucking on her collarbones which would for sure leave a few marks but Y/N was much too lost on how well it felt to worry about that. 

   - Seb ... Sebastian. - she choked another moan from coming through. What was she doing? This man was about to be married to her friend and she was very close to hitting second base with him. However, her self control seemed to want to disappear whenever his lips kissed her very soft skin or whenever he bite softly into her skin. 

   - Well, angel, I said I’d never get you in trouble. - the lift dinged and he stepped away from her, smirking at her tousled appearance and plump lips before taking off to the stairs and up to this bedroom leaving Y/N to regain her breathe against the wall of the lift.

How dare him?! Her most primitive self asked, livid that he had left her in such state that she didn’t know if to follow him into his bedroom or kick the wall of the lift. However, her more careful and let’s face it logical side was telling her to go to her bedroom and lock her door before she could do anything wrong. 

Without much thought and attention to her more primitive self, she climbed up the stairs and rushed into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. It wasn’t like Sebastian was gonna barge into her bedroom and take her right then and there. Not that she would mind it. However, she knew that right now she had no self control. Whenever that man stared at her or did anything, her self-control seemed to perish and suddenly she was this loose moral woman okay with an extra marital affair. Not that he was married. 

After pacing around in her bedroom for what felt like a full hour, trying to tire herself out of the high he had put her in, she eventually stripped off her clothing before sliding under her very comfortable duvet, closing her eyes and hoping her brain would be kind enough not to dwell on the lift events during her dreams.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was rather heated up, heart hammering into his chest as he concentrated on that beautiful memory of the very polished, very repressed Y/N in that sinful appearance. God, he knew he couldn’t just do things the way he would do them if she was literally anyone else. It wasn’t like Sebastian believed Gwen would harm Y/N, god no. That woman had a terrible aim and talked more than acted, however, he could see Mr. Forrest clearly having an issue with “the most loyal employee” having an affair with his daughter’s fiancé. Not that he cared about what Mr. Forrest thought but he wanted Y/N safe. She was the last truly kind person in this business he knew and he would protect her with his life. No, with Y/N he had to carefully tip toe and curb his enthusiasm and desires. 

Nevertheless, he’s hot, he’s on fire. He felt as if the hottest day of the summer was nothing compared to how flustered and flush he was feeling right now. There was no question as to him having thought and even dreaming about the handmaid in less than polite scenarios, certainly normally on her knees being delightfully submissive to him. However, he had never gotten that close to the actual dreams that haunted him at night constantly awaking him with something to deal with.

Too consumed with his desires, he turned on the TV hoping it would daze him to dreamland which it eventually did. 

Hours later, Y/N was the first to awake up, groaning at the sunbeams that coursed through her bedroom and hit her face. It was light enough that she couldn’t sleep so with a spring in her step, she jumped off her bed and walked to the bathroom. Normally she would’ve just entered the shower with little to no thought but this morning she stopped by the mirror, noticing the hickeys that were very prominent on her neck and collarbones. She felt that familiar heat creep up to her face, moving slightly so she could look at the marks better. Her fingers softly traced the bruises, a slight curious smile forming on her face. 

This curiosity was quickly brought down as she remembered who had caused them. Sebastian. Sebastian Stan as in the man promised to the woman she had sworn her life to, or at least had lived her life to so far. Pushing that thought away from her head, she entered the shower, turning the water on. She rubbed the water off her face, her mind going back to when she was with him, the feeling of his lips tracing her collarbones and neck still ghosting on her skin and that newly found heat returned to her.

Mindlessly, she brought the shower head to her body, letting the water cascade down her back and torso until she lowered it to her lower part, gasping slightly as the medium pressured warm water hit her clitoris. She gasped, leaning against the wet tiles of the bathroom wall, as the water hit her pleasure spot bringing the new and exciting sensations up to a new height. Her head slightly slide down the wall as she brought the shower head closer. The emotions would’ve reached a catharsis had it not been for someone knocking on her bedroom door. Afraid and not expecting the knock, she dropped the shower head out of surprise and turned the tap off.

Wrapping herself in one of the monogramed fluffy white towels that existed in every single bathroom in the penthouse, she paced to the door, partially opening it to see Sebastian’s cerulean eyes staring directly at her. 

    - Good morning, angel. - his eyes lowered to his initials on her white towel. This made his ego grow, there she was wearing his own initials on a towel covering her nude body. - Don’t you look ravishing?

   - Shush ... - her eyes widened as she looked around the hall. - What if Gwen heard that?

   - I’m gonna forbid you to mention her name whenever we speak, angel.

   - You’re the most impossible boy. - she stabbed his chest with her ring finger, holding the towel up with her other hand. 

   - Don’t be mad at me, angel. - he placed his hands on her waist, successfully entering her room and closing the door behind him with his foot. - I couldn’t do anything else with you in a lift, you deserve better. 

   - There is no anything between us. You’re engaged. 

   - Don’t you wanna kiss me? - he caged her between the wall and him, hands resting on both side of her head. - Be honest. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​ @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan

[holdinbacksecrets]

Finally

AN: Inspired by daydreams, fueled by quarantine boredom

His words were darts, shooting at you in the night. The glow of your porch light boasted little warmth, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

You could feel his tension. It extended from his fingertips, following the stare that’s focus fell somewhere behind you. You felt exposed every time you shifted and landed in the glow of his headlights.

For the first time, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what he needed to hear, and you couldn’t understand the animosity. The emotional shift happened somewhere between the laughter at the bar with all of your friends and the drive home. The drive you expected would end in his driveway until he turned, surprising you, onto your street.

If your friendship is what you believed it to be, the words should be easy to say. The question of why shouldn’t be caught in the back of your throat like it was now, but you weren’t the only one standing here, holding back.

Instead, you feel yourself give up, deflating on your patio that creeks beneath any and all movement. “Shit,” you didn’t have your keys. Your roommate was home when you left, and you didn’t even bother to grab them, assuming your night would end at Chris’.

“I don’t have my key.” Before he has time to answer you you’re pulling out your phone to dial her number. You know she’s already asleep, feeling bad about waking her after a week of long, early shifts.

“Stop, stop” he breathes like the idea of taking you home is painful, but you listen anyway. This didn’t feel good. This dynamic was a place you’d never ventured to with Chris. You were used to lightness and laughter and hovering on the lines of something more.

“I don’t want to bother you any longer than I already have.”

Whatever has been holding his gaze loses its appeal as the words fill the air between the two of you. He reaches for your hand, leading you back to his car. The headlights had faded by now, and your feet cling to the gravel. The sidewalk didn’t quite reach the porch, and walking on the loose rock in heels was a possibly disastrous experience.

You close your eyes in the moments that fall between your door closing and the short walk Chris takes to the driver's side. After years of days and nights spent talking, sharing comfortable silences and tears as movie credits rolled, you couldn’t understand what was happening tonight. What had changed and was it him or you?

You nearly burst, trying to hold on through the drive you had taken together countless times, but Chris surprises you. His hand spans across your thigh and you can breathe again.

Those seconds feel so heavy. When you look over as he’s driving, and catch his tightened jaw beneath the street lamp, you feel it. You bring your legs up to your chest, hoping he can’t notice the bursts of love radiating off your skin.

You fall into yourself, swimming through dense thoughts during that last stretch of the trip until you’re pulling into his driveway. The hand that had warmed your thigh shifts the gear to park before turning the key in the ignition. It’s quiet for a moment, before your lips part, and your body turns to face him. If you’re going to say the words they can’t be weak. They can’t be mumbled into a scarf or traced into his palm.

Dodger barks and Chris’ door opens. He sighs and pats your knee. “Quick walk?”

You nod behind a shallow smile and follow him inside to slip into gentler shoes. Dodger is chirpy. His tail wagging as the leash is clipped to his collar and you’re out the door.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had walked so late. The moon fell in and out of view behind fluffy clouds. Street lamps cast shadows of you against the sidewalk and street. The wind whistled through the trees.

“Did you have a good time tonight? Brandon’s quite taken with you.”

The moment the words are out, it all makes sense. “Are you serious?”

“Well …yes. He told me he was excited to see you, planned on asking you out by the end of the night.”

Brandon was like a brother to you. He was loud, failed miserably at listening to you for longer than five minutes at a time, and the poor guy couldn’t remember your drink order to save his life. Not that that was a deal-breaker, but even if you found him charming and sweet, you could never give him your full attention.

You look for Chris in a crowded room like no one else exists. Making sure he was still around, with a smile on his face, and a glass in hand. If you were lucky, he’d meet your eye, offering a raised eyebrow that always said: are you ok?

You cross your arms and let the laughter spill. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

“Who said I didn’t?” You stop, turning. Dodger paws at the lush grass accepting the interruption. Chris is searching for something, and you wonder if he had felt your radiating feelings.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to say it first?” His lips twitch and your stomach flips.

“What happens after?”

“If I tell you, that’ll ruin all the fun.”

You turn away from him and take a cautious step into the crossroad, “come on Dodger.”

You’re a few paces ahead of Chris. A gust of wind blows and you shutter; fingers collect wild curls behind exposed ears.

It’s not hard for him to catch up. Two full strides are all it takes.

“I did have a good time tonight, with you. I love our friends, but I’d be alright if they weren’t always with us, you know?”

He brushes his hand against yours and your fingers spread, inviting his to weave in between your own.

“Being at each other’s places isn’t enough, huh?”

Chris’ tone is light, setting this all up perfectly for you. “It would’ve been much easier if you had told me how you felt about tonight.”

“If I had let myself start…” His head shakes like the outcome would’ve been tragic. “I’m just sorry I shut you out instead.”

“Why were you scared? You must.. Don't you know how I feel?”

Chris always had wonderful intuition, but this wasn’t the first time you’d heard how hard it was to read you. Maybe love was the emotion you were best at keeping locked away, trying it on subtly, quietly, in the dark.

But you liked the way it looked around him- the way it felt. It was ever present now, slipping into thank you’s and goodbyes. In sighs of relief and borrowed jackets. In baked cookies and the calls that kept you sane when distance made missing him tangible.

His arms wrapping around you and your hand squeezing his bicep. I love you.

Planting flowers in his back yard. I love you.

Calling from the grocery store in case he needed anything because you were coming over anyway. I love you.

When he cleaned the shards of glass from a broken bottle. Eyebrows furrowed as he picked pieces from the palm of your hand. Maybe he loved you too.

It was time to turn around. The dead end sign catching you by surprise.

“Things could change if I tell you, and I can’t lose my best friend. They come few and far in between.” His honesty wrapped up in shields of humor was endearing.

“You know what they say about love, right? The strongest relationships are the ones shared between best friends. I don’t want anyone else but you, and I’ve thought about it too. Just in case you were going to ask me if I’m sure.”

You squeeze his hand. Your gaze swimming in his eyes, waiting, wondering, hoping to feel his lips on your own.

“What have you thought about?” He clears his throat, and you wonder if there’s a shade of pink sprinkling across Chris’ cheeks.

“I’ve thought about how many people I’ve ever done nothing with, who made it feel like everything. I’ve thought about who will listen to my senseless rambles about lines from novels that made my toes curl. I’ve thought about the person I’d call in an emergency. Whose smile reminds me of sunshine. I think about the only person in the world I’d give up peanut butter for in case they were allergic to nuts. Whose dog I’ve grown to love more than I thought could ever be possible for a self-proclaimed cat person. But most importantly, I think about the only person I see in a crowded room, and it always comes back to you.”

You shoulders lift in a shrug, like you’ve tried to fight it all with no luck. “You’re right here,” a hand clutches the cashmere worn against your chest, “and I can’t fight it.”

He’s looking at you, seeing everything, realizing the sun isn’t quite as warm as your skin. Realizing the medicine in the bathroom cabinet can’t do what your laughter does. Knowing no one else’s lips could possibly feel as good as he imagines yours do.

“I love you.”

Deep breath,

“Finally.”

You couldn’t tell who closed the distance and brought you flush against one another. In your dreams, it couldn’t have happened any better, because it was you. It was Chris. It was the organic conclusion to a chapter of maybe’s tied together by afternoon board games and dinners at his parent's house, yet the vibrant beginning to your romance.

You can feel the leash wrapped around his hand as his palm opens against your cheek. Chris feels you smile against his mouth. You taste the cherry on his lips from the chapstick stocked in his glove department after realizing you had a habit of forgetting your own.

Your eyes stay closed after it ends, leaning into curious lips tracing the length of your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“You have no idea,” his hand squeezes your waist, “how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.” Long lashes meet cheekbones when Chris’ eyes close beneath waves of bliss. His lips meet yours once more, “I love you.”

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

lil taglist: @evansweaters @someoneunimportantxx @siennarossi​ @sowhatshawn​ @fitmydaydream​

[imgoodloveenjoy]

What down, joe?

So I finally got around to watching the episode of ChicagoMed that we all missed due to those idiots at the Capitol. SMH but here we go into the MESS & my feelings lol

April

What does April want? That’s the name of her arc cause she needs to figure it out. I do feel her on wanting to stay in the COVID ward because it gives her a sense of purpose but her acting as though Ethan “took” that from her is ridiculous: 1. She never let Ethan know that she felt that way, maybe that would’ve swayed his decision a bit and 2. She’s been a nurse for what I’m assuming is years, she knows that nurses rotate positions in hospitals so her being rotated out to the ED shouldn’t have been such a blow- its almost like she expected special treatment & took it personally that she didn’t get that and was expected to rotate out like all the other nurses. In and regards to Ethan, she needs to figure out what she wants from him; it feels like she’s on the fence about resuming a romantic relationship, and that’s fine, but she also acts as though he should be doing things for her because of implied lingering romantic feelings- feels like she’s using him a bit and he’s being a doormat about it.

I’ve noticed that she’s moving as though Ethan should be a mind reader and know what she’s thinking and feeling for a while. When she discovered that she was having fertility issues, she lashed out at him without telling him about it so then he was stuck on stupid thinking they were still on the same page about having a baby. When she was feeling like there wasn’t any romance in their relationship since starting IVF, she took that out on him without telling him how she felt. When she felt like she found her purpose in the COVID ward, she didn’t say anything to Ethan, just gave him attitude. Girl, he’s not a psychic, tell him what you’re feeling! I do feel like the storyline of her getting involved in the Will’s new crusade with the trail medicine is a way for them both to undermine Ethan, his new elevated position and the new hierarchy in the ED – neither of them respects him as a peer or senior at this point.

I would love for April to have something else to focus on. I know that the writers have talked about her re-assessing how she’s maneuvering as a caregiver & I think that’s great! I feel like she can receive more responsibility, like a sort of promotion (idk what that means to nurses), and has to work through the struggle of those new responsibilities (without Ethan trying to save her) and become a more confident & capable nurse. I do think eventually she has to sit with herself and assess her personal life: does she still want Ethan? If not, she has to sit down and discuss that with him, set some boundaries; I think she needs better communication with him in general but this would be a good place to start.

Us: “April, tell us what you want. Make a choice.”

April:

William

Will absolutely demonstrated why he isn’t the Chief ED in this episode but one thing that really irks me about this character is that he does thing so totally left field and reckless, but the writers always manage to redeem him in the end, and it moves along as though he was always right. I’m waiting for the day the writers let Will really feel the consequences of his actions; he really needs to sit and think about why he rushes into situations the way he does. And why the hell did Maggie apologize to him? She should’ve questioned Will about how she felt he was being blind to his crusade; his patient’s daughter specifically told hm what type of treatment she wanted for her father and he ignored that…GIRL! Let that have been Ethan or Natalie LOL. And every time he does something like this he comes out smelling like roses…I’m tired of it.

I also feel like Will is acting more impulsive because he still is upset about the Chief position and doesn’t want to accept Ethan and the new hierarchy of the ED. Its like him being a part of this clinical trail give him the authority position that he wanted in the ED but didn’t get, not really about him being really interested in the trails. It’s giving me “I don’t respect Ethan” vibes & I would appreciate it if he just said that.

Ethan

Ok so I feel like with this episode, Ethan did really leave April alone except for things that were related to work and that’s what I want for him moving forward until she figures out what she wants: keep it professional. But I don’t like how he’s handling April with kid gloves; I get that he still loves her, it’s evident, but he needs to show her that he won’t be a push over for her, that she can’t use their connection to get her way & then give him attitude when he does his job as Chief of ED.

There is such a wedge in Chexton that it doesn’t even seem worth it anymore and the writers said that Noah is going to cause even more problems, at this point, but my ship in the harbor and let us disembark. I love Chexton but this is ridiculous, they have these characters walking around not communicating with each other like children even though I’m sure these characters are pushing 40!

I would like for Ethan to continue his mentor-mentee relationship with Charles; I feel like that will help Ethan determine the type of Chief he wants to be and how he wants to run his ED. He also needs to make it clear that no one will be getting special treatment (April and Noah) and try to establish communication, trust, collaboration, and accountability (Will) in the ED. For Ethan, getting used to this new role is his drama, he doesn’t need the extra mess with his love life at the moment; it would be good to see him grow in a way that sticks from being Chief of ED. Also free Ethan from the shackles of April, please LOL.

Mancel

I’m kinda on this ship LOL. IDK what it is about these two but I kinda like it…I think it’s the fact that Marcel can be vulnerable to Natalie and she gives him the space to do so without judgment. Natalie confronting Marcel about his one-night stands and then just leaning herself onto his back, then his face being so content just made me swoon a bit, I can totally understand Natalie’s attraction to him with this new attitude. I know that his ex-wife will be making an appearance that will surely shake things up with them but it can be a moment for Marcel to determine if he wants to pursue a relationship with Nat or continue being a committed bachelor. The direction the writers are taking with Mancel is the only good thing they’re doing IMO; it’s giving me an insight to Marcel’s pathology – he feels like a person who runs when the going gets tough cause he doesn’t want to be vulnerable but his attraction to Nat and the type of person she is will make him want to stay and work through the hard stuff.

The Writers

I am TIRED of y’all. TIRED. I’m so done with the way the writers make characters regress to build up other characters/relationships. They had Manstead going but then as Chexton took off, Manstead crashed and burned. Chexton was cruising along, now they’re floundering as Mancel is taking off. What is going on? Can no one focus on more than one relationship at a time? And why are the characters going through the same development that they went through in past seasons (Ethan, Will). Like they went through that, their characters were better then all of a sudden, its back to square one and then on top of that, no one is communicating with each other, just getting upset in their feelings. You know y’all don’t have to do that, right? There are ways of challenging characters beyond regressing them and focusing on their love life screw ups. Do y’all need a more diverse writing room? Some new people to bring in fresh ideas? What is it? What do y’all need to keep this show from being too predictable and unnecessarily messy? It’s like they don’t realize that the characters and viewers of the show aren’t teenagers, we’re grown ass adults so petty relationship drama isn’t going to satisfy us. I would give them more free game but they’re gonna have to pay me LOL.

Me to the writers:

So i guess that’s all until next episode of ChicagoWhatTheFuckAreTheyDoingOverThereMed Z.

[crossdressingdeath]

I find it really strange how LXC has more haters than JC. Overall I do think he’s pretty well liked, but I have seen way more criticism for him than for JC, which is weird. Because I feel like you can find legitimate explanations for a lot of LXC’s choices, whereas the same can’t be said for JC. Let’s look at LXC’s supposed crimes. Trusting JGY? Well, I don’t think we can complain about that, and then at the same time 1/10

breath turn around and support LWJ for always standing up for WWX because...look, I get that it's not exactly the same thing. And it's REALLY not the same thing because it ultimately turned out that JGY couldn't be trusted, but the thing is, LXC genuinely didn't know that at the time! This guy was a very close friend of his! He believed in him! JGY had saved his life in the past! And just like LWJ always supports his loved ones without a second thought, LXC is doing the same thing. Because, 2/10

in this eyes, JGY hasn't really given him any reason not to trust him. The guy is a very good manipulator, and when you are that close to someone, you WANT to believe the best in them. LXC is not an idiot, he is the victim of someone else's manipulations, and it's not like pretty much everyone in the cultivation world suspected anything either. The only one who was actively trying to take down JGY was NHS, who KNEW that the man had murdered his brother. I have no doubt that if LXC had 3/10

been aware of it, he would never have supported him. Not only that - as soon as there is any doubt about JGY's intentions, the man takes an objective stance! He agrees to listen to the evidence! He isn't just blindly denying what's in front of him, regardless of what that would mean for his own feelings; but of course he isn't going to blindly denounce JGY with no proof because this is his closest friend. And while he obviously trusts his brother, he also knows that LWJ's priority is 4/10

WWX, who LXC really doesn't have any reason to trust at that point? We know WWX, LWJ knows WWX, but LXC and him really haven't had that many interactions, on top of his current reputation in the cultivation world. The fact that LXC is so willing to help and hide WWX, despite knowing the dangers it might cause for his sect, and all because he trusts his brother is...a very big thing. It's more than JC would EVER do for WWX. I've also seen criticism for LWJ's punishment, which I honestly 5/10

don't understand because a) the Lan clan also has elders which probably had a big say in the punishment too, and b) LWJ DID commit a crime! It wasn't just him protecting WWX, it was him injuring dozens of members of the Lan sect! Sure, we know why he did it, but just how would it look to the rest of the sect if LXC had just excused that behaviour? Or to the rest of the world? What would it do to his brother's place in the sect if he hadn't been punished for it? I really don't think LWJ 6/10

could have gotten out of that without some form of punishment, and if LXC even had the sole say over it after all (which I highly doubt he would have with no repercussions) that was probably the best alternative to banishment, or perhaps even worse. I've seen criticism (and this is so, so strange) over him blindly accepting the story about his mother, which is so stupid because...LWJ also accepted it, LXC has no way of finding out anything about his mother, and WE as readers know nothing 7/10

about his mother! For all we know, she COULD have been in the wrong, or his parents could have had a completely different relationship from how other people perceive it; we just don't know enough to make a judgement. And then finally, I see people criticizing his behaviour towards WWX. Okay, I kind of do find this annoying too - I was frustrated when he essentially blamed WWX for LWJ's actions, because honestly, LWJ is a grown man who can make his own decisions, but...I also kind of 8/10

understand this. Because this is his BROTHER, and of course he's going to be protective or resentful when he's hurt, it's just a natural reaction to have. It's only natural, and people can't be objective all the time. And also, I think a lot of his annoyance came from him thinking that WWX knew about his brother's feelings, and was essentially mocking them by pretending to flirt with him, and honestly, from an outsiders perspective it would kind of look like that. Despite his own feelings, 9/10

He still supports LWJ in all his decisions though. It’s just so weird that there is so much criticism for LXX, when you can understand his supposed mistakes a lot more than someone like JC. But then, JC pretty much gets no criticism from the fandom. I’ve actually seen people who can’t stand LXC, but then support JC at the same time, and that is so, so weird. 10/10

The thing is, LXC has just as much reason to trust JGY as LWJ does to trust WWX. We as readers know that WWX is in the right, but LWJ, in-universe, doesn’t. He himself admits that he believes and wants to help WWX because he loves him, not because he’s certain he’s in the right. There’s actually a lot less evidence against JGY than there is against WWX for a lot of the story! Evidence that LXC as an in-universe character with his level of knowledge would have access to, I mean. LXC himself points this out; LWJ believes JGY has done these terrible things because WWX said so, not because they have physical proof; at this point in the story it very much is WWX’s word against JGY’s, so doesn’t LXC have the right to give JGY the benefit of the doubt and trust him the way LWJ trusts WWX? And even saying that, the moment he has reason to distrust JGY he revokes his access to the Cloud Recesses and is clearly upset at the idea that he could have misjudged the situation so badly. And remember, JGY’s reputation was impeccable before WWX accused him (origins aside); LXC had no reason to doubt him, but he still did, because WWX said he should and LWJ trusted WWX’s judgement. Can you imagine any other character in this novel immediately searching for evidence and acting as soon as that evidence was uncovered even when that evidence proved their long-held beliefs wrong?

And re the punishment, it was punishment for attacking the elders, not necessarily for helping WWX; thirty-three lashes for thirty-three elders badly injured. LXC couldn’t have just... let LWJ get away with attacking the elders of their clan, that would’ve been a political disaster within their sect even keeping the whole thing a secret from other sects. And honestly? Between helping the cultivation world’s enemy number one and gravely injuring the clan’s elders, it wouldn’t surprise me if LWJ could’ve been executed. Any other sect leader probably would’ve executed him for aiding WWX, but LXC couldn’t do that to his brother. Instead he sent the elders who most respected LWJ to apprehend him and bring him back before anyone else realized what he was doing. Was the whipping severe? Definitely. But considering what other punishments were on the table, I’d argue LXC was downright merciful. LWJ clearly thinks it was justified, or at least understandable, and while that doesn’t necessarily mean it was okay (I mean, WWX insists JC repeatedly trying to kill him is totally fine), I do think that should be considered. LWJ knew he would be punished when he went back; a big part of the novel is accountability for one’s actions, and I’d argue this is a part of that theme. 

LXC believing the story about his mother is like... what else is he supposed to do? As you say, LWJ also seems to believe it. They have no reason to doubt it! The certainty suggests that no one (not the sect’s elders, not their uncle, not even their mother) ever brought up the possibility of it being false! When all evidence suggests that something is true and you can’t find anything to disprove it, insisting it’s false anyway will only hurt you! Of course he believes the only story anyone has ever told him when not even the woman it’s about suggested it was a lie! Leave him alone!

And the whole thing with WWX is fairly explicitly him thinking WWX knew LWJ was in love with him and chose to toy with his feelings just for fun. And also making his brother miserable for 13 years, which granted wasn’t really WWX’s fault, but we can’t fault a brother for seizing upon the most obvious target to blame for his baby brother’s suffering. From the outside it really does look like WWX was just toying with LWJ, after all; we know better because we’re in WWX’s head and know that he doesn’t know LWJ’s in love with him, and WWX corrects his behaviour as soon as he realizes, but until WWX tells them he doesn’t remember LWJ’s confession LXC has no reason to believe he’s not being pointlessly cruel. And thinking someone is deliberately using your brother’s feelings to hurt him probably makes it considerably easier to believe that person is to blame for all your brother’s suffering. I do think LXC will get past his resentment of WWX given time! His hatred of WWX is an immediate reaction to the suffering of someone he loves. You know, like JC’s desire to murder all the Wens for the fall of Lotus Pier, except considerably less genocidal and considerably more likely to be gotten over.

As for why people make excuses for JC but talk shit about LXC... I don’t know. How fandoms pick their favourite characters has always been something of a mystery to me.

[frostedfaves]

Damage (2)

Part 1

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N attempts to avenge her mother and save future victims.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, family angst, magical angst, death

-

"It's clear here. You should be able to get all the way to the storage room without detection."

Y/N turned to the group after doing a quick sweep of the building with her powers. Jake nods in response, his features quickly shifting into a frown when he saw her magically open the door. He was quick to grab her arm before she could step inside.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as urgently as possible.

"Going in," she responded with a confused look before going to walk in again, the grip around her arm only tightening. "Jake, let go."

"No, you can't go in. You'll get hurt."

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. "Jake, I'm the least of your worries. I literally have powers to protect me and you made me wear this vest." She noticed the concern still swimming in his eyes and sighed. "Don't worry. I'll stick behind you guys and keep the exits sealed to trap them."

"Fine." He couldn't help the smile that broke through in response to her grin as he let her go and they entered the building.

-

The team spent weeks following that night of successful busts rounding up the entirety of Patali's men. Turns out there were a lot of them. After news broke--much to the dismay of the squad--that some had been captured, the rest quickly fled into hiding. Unfortunately for them, they didn't have powers to counteract Y/N's. By now, they'd arrested and charged every member of the drug ring, but had yet to catch their leader.

-

"Hey, Y/N!" Amy greeted with a smile as she and the other squad members walked into Y/N's apartment, the rest giving her the same line or a simple head nod. She was just about to close the door when she realized there was one person missing.

"I can't believe you were gonna lock out your favorite."

Y/N turned back to see Jake's hand inches away from hers on the door to stop it from closing, unable to fight the warmth in her cheeks. "Well it's not my fault you were late. You snooze, you lose, Peralta."

"Well then, I guess I'll just take my gift back--"

"Gift?" She grabbed his arm from behind his back to reveal a bag from her favorite craft store. "What did you...?" She let the sentence fade as she met Jake's eyes again.

"Well," he began as he came in finally and closed the door behind himself, meeting her eyes again with a shy smile. "I may have done a little digging and found out that today was your birthday so... happy birthday." His smile fell when he noticed the tears building in her eyes. "Oh no, did I get the date wrong?"

"No, no," she quickly reassured him, blinking back the building tears with a small sniffle. "Sorry, I just haven't gotten a birthday gift in like years so..." Before she could overthink it, she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him,, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Jake."

He let out a low chuckle, forcing himself not to enjoy the warmth that radiated from her body pressed against his or the pleasant scent of whatever wonderful perfume she'd sprayed that morning. "You don't even know what it is."

"Doesn't matter. Thank you." She opened her eyes and noticed everyone staring at them, quickly pulling away and clearing her throat. "Right, so anyway." She took the bag from Jake and dropped it on a nearby table as she came to sit in front of the group.

"Now that I've got you all here, I'm pleased to say that I've figured out a way to catch my dad. I'm going to lure him to my childhood home. His last remaining piece of home is hidden there. All I have to do is find it, break it, and he'll come rushing back to find whoever did it and punish them. I'll drain his powers and then you can arrest him. It should be easy, since he's literally nothing without the extra help."

"Are you sure you can do it without him hurting you, though?" Charles questioned with a hint of fear in his features, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate his concern.

"He may have gotten away with a lot of things in his life, but I'm not letting him get away with anymore. What he's failed to realize all this time is that constantly killing and mentally destroying people paired with aging takes a toll on the body, magical or not." She stood up then, unable to fight the grin that followed.

"Let's go put that old man in jail."

-

They got out of the van outside of the house half an hour later wearing bulletproof vests. Y/N met eyes with Jake again and before she could question the look he gave her, Rosa bumped shoulders with her.

"All good inside?" she questioned quietly.

"Give me a second." She closed her eyes and ran through the building in her mind, being sure to check even the surrounding area for traps before opening her eyes again. "All good. Let's go."

The squad followed her inside and locked the door behind themselves as Y/N turned to face them all, her eyes watering slightly.

"I'm pretty confident that I'll get him and that I can protect you guys from him, but just in case..." 

She stepped in front of Terry, who was the closest. After conjuring up a large ball of glittering pink, she cracked it over his head like an egg and the insides covered him until his entire body glowed in the color. She repeated this action with everyone, getting to Jake last and sending him a quick--hopefully reassuring--smile before coming back to stand in front of everyone.

"I thought about making you all invisible but he'll know you're here regardless. This will protect you from any trick he uses to escape or try to get inside my head."

-

They followed Y/N around the house as she looked for the item, staring at the place in awe. The house was really a smaller scale mansion, lined with too many expensive items to count. Despite this being the home that Y/N grew up in, there were no pictures of her or her mother. Only intricate portraits of Pavlo himself in different poses, further proving his hatred of everyone but himself.

"I found it!"

They all followed her voice into a room with marble flooring, empty of everything except a long shelf filled with different books, expensive lamps, and other items the group couldn't seem to identify. They watched as Y/N turned around with a black box in her hands, opening it to reveal the shiniest jewel they'd ever seen.

"It's a Nuxvarian diamond," she added when she caught sight of their confused faces. "You leave it to protect a place you care about. Nothing bad can happen to it, or the place it's guarding while it's here. At least, until it's magically destroyed."

She tossed it out of the box and into the air away from everyone, quickly dropping the box and using both hands to shoot rays of pink toward the object. Everyone ducked as it broke into pieces with a deafening crack, turning to dust as it hit the floor.

"Cool," Rosa muttered with a grin that shocked the hell out of Y/N, just before the ground began to shake in the place where the diamond dust landed.

"Shit, that was fast," Y/N whispered with even wider eyes.

"What should we do?" Terry quickly asked in a panic, bringing Y/N back to her senses.

"Um, just get against that wall and do not try to jump in under any circumstances, got it?" She watched as they nodded and got into position before turning back to the dust, trying to gulp down any fear that threatened to escape.

Seconds later, Pavlo appeared in full human form, giving her a look that would melt any regular human to a puddle.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?"

"Hello to you, too, Dad."

He lashed out in anger with a ray of black glitter, but Y/N was quick to send it back to him, managing to cut his arm open in the process. His head fell back as he roared with laughter in response.

"Wow. Look at you, all grown up! Here to avenge your mommy's death? And what, you brought your little friends to watch?" He gestured to the detectives and Y/N couldn't help sparing them a glance, careful not to linger on Jake's fearful gaze. "Answer me!"

Y/N ducked as another ray was sent to her that she didn't have time to block. "Stop! You think you have any right to be angry? You can find more people to run your stupid fucking drug ring but I can't just find a new fucking mom, or get back all those years of being a normal child that I lost! So stop the tantrum and act like a rational adult for once in your fucking life!"

Pavlo let out another roar, the humor missing this time. "You're talking a lot of big shit for such a small brat. You forget that I had Nuxvar crumbling at my feet within minutes with my bare hands, so I won't even break a sweat dealing with a tiny piece of shit like you."

Y/N paused to take a deep breath, trying not to let him take her too far into her anger. "It doesn't matter what you say anymore. When I'm done with you, you'll be just another sad sack rotting away in jail because you couldn't just do the right thing and be a decent person."

"And how do you expect to get me there? I destroyed the one thing that gave you a chance against me."

"You didn't destroy the copy." She pulled the shrunken copy from her pants pocket, magically growing it to regular size and tossing it at him. "This ends today."

He simply glanced at the book in his hand before dropping it with a sinister chuckle, his eyes turning completely black as he kept them trained on hers. Y/N watched him fearfully, jumping when she suddenly heard her mother's voice directly in her ears.

"You shouldn't do this, Y/N..."

"No--"

"You know this isn't what I want..."

"Dad, stop--"

"I'm glad Pavlov killed me, or I would've had to do it myself..."

"Stop! Fucking stop!"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, clamping her hands over her ears in a failed attempt to keep the layered whispers out that were coming from inside her own head. Her breathing and heart rate quickened continuously as she felt herself going mentally insane the longer this went on. Finally deciding she'd had enough, a long, piercing scream followed by a thick cloud of glittering pink was released before she could stop it. It exploded even bigger, shaking the whole room and seeming to destroy everything within the four walls as it threw her backwards to the ground with the force of it.

When it finally cleared, the detectives looked around as their protective glaze disappeared. Jake instantly ran to Y/N, mind thinking the worst as the rest of the squad recovered.

"Y/N? Y/N!" His arms wrapped around her as soon as he saw her sit up, pulling back for a second to brush her hair away from her face. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She pulled herself out of her exhausted haze to attempt a response, her words falling short when she caught sight of the other side of the room.

"No," she croaked out.

"What? Y/N, what--"

"No!"

She pushed herself off the floor, running and falling to her knees again in the spot where her father stood, a pile of ash all that remained.

"No no no, fuck!"

"Y/N, it's okay." Jake commented, by her side again within seconds, until she pulled away from him again.

"No Jake, I was just supposed to take his powers, not his life! Now I'm just like him!"

"Y/N, listen to me," Jake practically growled out as he came face to face with her once more, this time placing his hands on her cheeks to hold her close. "You are nothing like him, okay? You did what you had to do to protect us and yourself. He did damage. You did good for the world. It's not your fault."

Y/N stared into his eyes a moment longer until sobs began falling from her mouth, her body collapsing into his arms once more as her tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut once more, grateful for the contrasting silence of the room as she tried to wrap her head around the mess she created. Jake was right, but he was also wrong.

She did damage, too.

[eeveevie]

truth or dare

All Rosie wants to do is work on her journals. All Butch wants to do is play Truth or Dare. The truth? Rosie’s never been kissed. Do either dare to make the first move? 

Unprompted, but I needed some self-indulgence in these uncertain times. Also, Rosie needed a smooch. Stealth edit: this is my lucky #99 story on Ao3 !!!

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

 2885 words | [read on Ao3]

Finding a quiet place to hideaway in Rivet City was one of the most difficult tasks Rosie faced every time she visited the repurposed warship—even in the privacy of her rented room, she was distracted by the constant creaking of metal and the echoing footsteps of the guard patrol. By comparison, it made her long to be under the rusted rooftop in Megaton, the closest thing she had to call home nowadays. But beggars and wanderers couldn’t be choosers, even if all she wanted to do that evening was concentrate on her journal and travel notes.

Rosie tried to focus on the stack of reports she had received from Scribe Rothchild, wanting to better understand the different vaults in the area but all she could hear was the repetitive sounds of somebody pacing outside her door. It didn’t match the usual rotation of the Rivet City guards and she had only one guess as to who it could be. Just as she thought to move and secure the lock on the bulkhead it creaked open to reveal her traveling companion—Butch—just as she thought.

He was in a chipper mood, holding a half-empty Nuka-Cola bottle, though his swagger told her that he had been partaking in a different kind of beverage. Rosie frowned, hiding her disappointment in her palm as she diverted her gaze back to her work. She had better things to do than babysit or worry about his drinking habits.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to peer at her journal. Butch rested one hand on the desk, effectively boxing her in as he bent at the waist for a closer look. Beneath his usual musk of cologne and hair product, she could smell the booze and cigarette ash. She clenched her jaw, more annoyed with him than usual.  

Even though the two had taken remarkable strides in creating a friendship from the ground up, Rosie was still in turmoil over the feelings she had for him. No matter what she did to convince herself otherwise, or how much time she believed would need to pass, the stupid little crush had developed into something much stronger. Matters were only made worse when Butch would do something uncharacteristically kind, fueling the flame in her heart. Stranger still, she found herself equally attracted to his tantrums—the little bouts of pouting that resulted from their petty arguments.

Worst of all, she became jealous of any attention he gave to other girls and envious of how easy it was for others to chat him up. Rosie knew she wasn’t the most charismatic person, but now that she was saddled with the weight of those emotions, her insecurities had skyrocketed. It all circled back to her frustration with Butch and how he seemed so carefree and unaware of how his presence affected her.  She wondered if his actioned were done intentionally to frustrate her. He wasn’t her childhood bully anymore—this was a completely new form of torture.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” she deflected, avoiding his stare as he looked at her profile. She hadn’t meant to sound so rude but hoped her tone would send him back on his way. Instead, Butch took it as an invitation to linger, testing her patience. Why couldn’t he have slipped back into his old, stubborn ways and taken offense? Had he grown too soft in traveling with her?  

“Marketplace is closed,” he explained, straightening. He took a long sip of his soda. “What’s wrong with hangin’ with my best gal?”

Rosie shifted in her seat, the term of endearment had lost its touch lately, even with the affectionate gestures. She would��ve preferred any other nickname if he was going to be sarcastic with her. Rothchild’s notes became a scrambled blur as she crafted a good enough response, one that was sure to dismiss him.

“Wouldn’t you rather be at the Muddy Rudder, getting drunk with Trinnie?” she asked, this time tilting her chin up to steal a quick glance. “Or have you exhausted that option?”

Trinnie reminded Rosie a lot of Susie Mack in the way the girl hung off his every word and became excited when she saw him visiting the city. Rosie rolled her eyes at the irony of it all, that she had ended up in a similar position. At least she was better at hiding how she felt—she hoped.

Butch’s brows furrowed in frustration as he scowled. “I don’t—” he stomped away but didn’t leave the room. “I didn’t.”

Rosie turned in her chair to watch as he deposited himself right on the edge of her bed, leaning back on one elbow. The pose was too suggestive for her and she shot her eyes to the ceiling, pressing her lips into a flat line. “Oh?”

“What’s gotten into you lately?” he questioned in stark tone reminiscent of their earlier traveling days. “You’re pickin’ fights and pouting all the time at me like I did something wrong.”

He looked at her, steely blue eyes trained on her as he emptied the last drops of cola from the bottle, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the glass. “What’d I do this time? I didn’t get wasted like that one time, ya see?” He waved his free hand over his body, but she wasn’t going to look at his appearance and how he was practically draped across her bed. “Or ya’ still finding ways to be mad about all the teasing and bullying?”

In the quiet, she reluctantly flicked her eyes to find him looking like a neglected and kicked puppy. Worse than when she forgot to give Dogmeat a bath after a bout with raiders (usually the dog was happy to be covered in blood and guts). Butch sat there, picking at the Nuka-Cola label with a pout, bottom lip sticking out.

“I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, sounding more dejected than ever.  

Rosie chewed on her bottom lip—she hated that the appearance of him crestfallen and perched on her bedsheets was very alluring, especially when he glanced up at her from under his lashes—no way he hadn’t done that on purpose. She sighed, knowing it was wrong of her to lash out when everything that was wrong had to do with her. He didn’t deserve that, especially when yes—they had made their amends and started fresh when first joining up. She was just a young, foolish teenager with emotions she wasn’t ready to face.

“I uh—” she twisted her hands in her lap, darting her eyes from the books spread across the desk and back towards the ceiling. She wanted to have a valid, believable excuse for her outlandish behavior so that maybe he would forgive her. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Yeah,” Butch softly chuckled. “I can tell.”

He titled his head back and forth in thought, pointing the bottle to her. “Take a break, Stitches. You could use a little fun.”

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, irritated by the suggestion—it wasn’t the first time he had pointed out her boring disposition, but she couldn’t help her inner nature. Rosie was quiet, reserved and her idea of a good time was reading medical textbooks and solving math problems. Butch’s idea of entertainment usually involved some kind of risk that bordered on illegal, scheming up ways to break his boredom. He was stubborn, steadfast in his ways to get her to take life a little less seriously, to smile and laugh more if only so he could see it.

“You’re cute when you smile, Stitches.”

He had told her one evening, a little too tipsy on beer at Moriarty’s, a statement that had her red in the face for hours. Reminiscing on it had her blushing then and there too, something that Butch noticed quickly. He snickered, stretching a little further across her bed—it was certainly large enough for the two of them, but she had refused to share the space, resigning him to the common rooms.

“Rosie, your face is rosy,” he teased, barely able to get the words out as he continued to laugh. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What kind of fun are you thinkin’ about?”

She scoffed, clutching the back of the chair to ground herself. “Unlike you, my thoughts aren’t permanently in the gutter.”

Butch shrugged, clearly not believing her—she wouldn’t either, with the way her face was burning. He placed the empty Nuka-Cola bottle on the bedsheets beside him and spun the glass, though the fabric prevented it from moving effectively. “Spin the bottle?”

Rosie glanced to see the open end was facing her and sharply turned her head away, focusing on a dark, rusted spot in the corner. She didn’t even want to think about how playing the game would work with just two people. “No!”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” he whined. She heard him shift abruptly. “Hey, wait—you never played, have you?”

Those types of games in the vault were usually reserved for the parties she wasn’t invited to—the same kind of parties in which Amata was dared to spend seven minutes in heaven in the utility closet with Freddie Gomez. Rosie had a wealth of information, but lacked firsthand experience leaving her woefully embarrassed. What she wouldn’t have given to have a normal teenaged life growing up in Vault 101.

“Think back to those circles you sat in, Butch,” she replied, not meaning to sound so despondent. “Ever remember seeing Nosebleed as the bottle spun around?”

Her frown increased as a fleeting thought crossed her mind that he must have kissed every girl in the vault—the rumors certainly had painted him as a player, as a Casanova—yet there she was, still unable to get over how she felt.

“Fine then,” he finally replied. “Truth or dare?”

Rosie whipped her head at him, wide eyed. “I am not playing that game with you either.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, resting his head in his palm. “’Fraid you might reveal something to the Butch-man?”

Her patience was wearing thin, but she knew there would be no getting rid of him unless she humored him. Baring the risk of him escalating the games or wagers, she relented with a sigh, shaking her head. “Do not dare me to do anything gross or illegal.”

“You’re no fun,” he muttered, but regarded her with a low smile. “Okay. Truth or dare.”

She was reluctant to go first but still answered. “Truth.”

Butch’s grin increased and her stomach tightened—somehow, she had chosen something worse than dare. His question was very direct. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Rosie stiffened, and blinked at him silently. Her mind had gone blank at the sheer horror of what was happening—Butch DeLoria was confirming that she was the hopeless nerd he always thought she was. She scrambled to think of a passable lie, of a close call she could claim was really her first kiss but all she could think about were all the times they had managed to get close without anything occurring. Too much time passed without her answering, and his eyebrow quirked up as he let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, I knew it,” he pushed himself, so he was sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Explains everything!”

“You—you asked that on purpose!” she yelped, turning away from him and hiding her face in her hands out of mortification. Knowing Butch, even with his somewhat changed ways, she’d never hear the end of his teasing over this learned information. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

“Come on now, Rosie,” he encouraged. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just—”

Something in the tone of his voice had her alarmed. Apprehensively, she glanced back to find him anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding her stare. That, she didn’t expect. He seemed to be mulling over his next move, the next right thing to say to make the situation right. His eyes met hers and slowly, he smiled.

“Ya’ know, if you want, I could kiss you,” Butch said it like it made perfect sense in his mind. “Get that first kiss out of the way so you know what you’re doin’”

She stared at him, half in disbelief, half in a daze, but mostly in shock. Was he suggesting that…they kiss? Rosie considered that the person she was staring at wasn’t Butch DeLoria at all and the man Amata had released from the vault was some kind of replacement. No way would the bully she had grown up with for nineteen years switch from being repressed by her presence to suddenly wanting to lock lips. It didn’t matter that they were friends now, it still didn’t make any logical sense in her brain. Even if he sounded sincere, even if it was secretly what she wanted, Rosie couldn’t agree—not like this.

“I don’t want to kiss you under some ridiculous circumstances,” she shook her head, busying her hands in hair. “Not when we’ve been playing a stupid game, or—or when you’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” he flatly reassured. “Maybe it’s you that needs the liquid courage.”

Rosie disagreed. “I don’t need alcohol to kiss you.”

“Oh yeah?” Butch smirked, mood perking up. “So, you’re saying you do want to kiss me?”

“Don’t—” she huffed, unhappy he was twisting her words. He was the one that brought up the subject in the first place. “You seem eager to do the same!”

He furrowed his brows, laugh a little forced. If anything, it looked like he was blushing. “I dare you to do it right now. Lay one on me, Stitches.”

“I didn’t pick dare. It isn’t my turn, it’s yours!” she argued, once again feeling red in the face. Butch nodded at her, egging her on. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

She had never felt so emboldened. “Kiss me.”

It was Butch’s turn to look shell-shocked as he stared at her, wide blue eyes hazy as his thoughts caught up to the moment. A boy who usually had a snappy remark for everything and everybody was dead silent, unmoving before her. Unsurprisingly, she was disappointed, but hid her emotions well. Abruptly, she stood, determined to remove herself from the room and situation if nothing was going to happen. Rosie would need to be alone to decompress and deal with the ache in her chest. Behind her she heard his feet meet the ground as he scrambled to follow.

“Hey, wait—”

Despite her frustration, she turned half-way to meet him and was surprised when his hand pulled on her wrist, dragging her closer to him. His other hand quickly found her chin, angling her head up just in time for his lips to crash into hers. The first contact was rough—propelled forward by the movement of their bodies—but slowly, Rosie relaxed, daring to reach out and rest her hand against his chest. Reflexively, she clutched at his leather jacket, softly humming her approval. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, too focused on the way Butch’s lips molded around hers the longer they kissed.

When they did sperate, she felt her entire body radiating warmth, embarrassment for a completely different reason now. She had just been kissed—her first kiss—by Butch DeLoria. Instead of even trying to run away she stared up at him sheepishly, amazed to find a similar, dazed look in his eyes. His lips quirked up to the side in a smirk as he slid his hand to cup her cheek, tangling his fingers into her dark hair. The second time he kissed her was far more chaste, at least for the first few moments before he dared to run his tongue along the seam of her mouth, a little sound echoing from his throat when she gradually parted for him. He didn’t rush her, the kiss remaining slow yet far more fervent than the first—his other hand moving from her hand to her waist to slide her closer to his body.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, in need of air. Again, the two gazed at each other, this time far more fascinated by the situation as reality sunk in, but they didn’t separate. Rather, they stayed closely nestled together, mimicking each other’s goofy smiles.

“Your turn,” he breathed.

“Truth,” she answered, quietly. She almost forgot that they had been playing a silly game.

Butch combed his fingers through her hair, eyes darting down to her lips before locking with hers again. “Now that you’ve got some experience, whadd’ya you think about kissing?”

“More research will need to occur for me to make a determination,” she answered, knowing full well of how she sounded.

“God Rosie, you’re such a nerd,” he laughed against her mouth, moving away if only to flash a wink. “I’ll be your test subject.”

She giggled, feeling more alive and normal than she had in weeks. She didn’t realize it was possible to feel so energetic, the way her heart was racing. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Butch smiled, already leaning closer.

Rosie met him halfway, unable to contain her excitement. She would never tire of asking him now that she could. “Kiss me again.”

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 17

Masterlist

I took Gavin back to my office on the second floor. The building was still fairly quiet since classes hadn’t begun. Gavin had managed to calm down and now he was sitting on top of my desk leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. I had gotten him some ice for his hand, and I was working on my outline.

“So, what are you even going to do for your research?” I leaned back from my computer and looked at the ceiling.

“First, I need to conduct various interviews with androids, citizens, police officers, Cyberlife employees, and... well pretty much anyone who was in Detroit. Then I need to compile it, create the timeline as tight as possible, and then integrate theories with what happened.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah, but I have three years on my contract, so I’m not too worried. As long as the dean sees I’m doing the work it shouldn’t be too difficult to get my contract extended.”

“What happens once your contract is up?”

“WSU decides if they want to keep me here as a professor and I have the option to leave this position for another one if I don’t want to renew my contract here.” I paused, thinking back to earlier. I still couldn’t shake what he said to me before I kissed him. “Hey, Gavin?” He hummed in response. I took my hands off my keyboard. “Earlier you said that I shouldn’t be with you because you’re a mess and you can’t do anything right…you know that’s wrong, right?” I waited to see if he would respond, but he didn’t. “I’m a mess too.” He snorted. “No, I am. I mean you’ve witnessed me have a full-blown anxiety meltdown and just lots of anxiety in general. That’s just one part of my baggage. I am in no way a perfect person and I would never expect you to be.”

“Yeah, but I have a whole list of problems, (Y/n). You’re gonna get tired of me.” I looked at him, his eyes were still closed.

“Gavin, you’ve got to trust me. I’m not going to hang you out to dry. I didn’t have to run after you earlier, but I did. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“That you’re an idiot?” I grabbed a pen off my desk and flung it at his head. “Ow!”

“Oh, hush you baby. You know the real Batman would’ve caught that.” He groaned.  

“I hate that nickname.”

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” He got quiet.

“Gav.” He murmured. I nodded and started typing again.

“Well, Gav. I probably need at least another hour to finish this rough draft of my plan. What do you want to do after?” I continued facing the computer, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him smirk.

“Go to my place and make out.” I snickered.

“Alright. Let me finish this and send it to the dean.”

 It took me a little less than an hour to finish the draft and send it off, and I’m pretty sure Gavin had driven at least 15 miles over the speed limit the whole ride back to his place. I laughed, short but full heartedly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a cop? Why are you speeding!” He flashed me a grin. 

“Special privilege, babe. Even if I get pulled over all I have to do is show my badge.” I laughed again, a smile lingering on my face while I watched him drive. We hadn’t even gotten through the door and I was pulling his jacket while he was trying to unlock the door, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. He finished unlocking it with one hand, the other wrapped around my waist and pulling me close, and then up, and I squealed, wrapping my legs around his waist and using this new angle to my advantage, taking control of the kiss. Gavin kicked the door open and then shut behind us, carrying me to his couch and dropping me down into it, pouncing on top of me, not wanting to be apart any longer than we had too. He was kissing me as if I was a lifeline. I gently pushed his chest up forcing a small space between us and smiled.

“What?” He asked, with a cocky smile.

“I haven’t made out with anyone like this since I was a teenager.” I laughed and leaned up to kiss the scar on his nose. He sat up and shifted so I was sitting on his lap. He mimicked me and kissed my nose. Suddenly we heard two of the cats yowling and hissing, causing Gavin groaned.

“Robin! Sassy! Knock it off!” I giggled and laid my head on his shoulder, he started kissing my neck. However, the cats kept fighting, so I hopped off his lap and walked towards the two cats, Gavin huffed and followed me. “What are you doing?” I picked Sassy up.

“Cuddling with Sassy.” She purred in my arms and Robin hissed at the two of us. Gavin laughed.

“You get ‘em, Robin.” I gasped and jumped up and down. Sassy started to claw at my arms. “What?”

“BATMAN AND ROBIN!!!” Gavin groaned.

“Alright this was nice while it lasted.” He gestured towards the door and I kissed his cheek.

“If I’m leaving, I’m taking Sassy.” I held her close to my chest, but she squirmed and jumped down. Gavin laughed.

“Looks like you’re not taking any of my cats.” He said, wrapping his arms around me. I rested my head on his chest and hugged him. I looked at the time on his microwave.

“Hey, I told Connor I would see him and my dad tonight.” He tensed in my arms. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Your dad doesn’t like me.”

“Yeah and he’s not going to magically start liking you unless you try.” I looked up at him, through my lashes and pursed my lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and lifting my chest up, knowing it would pull my shirt down to reveal more cleavage. “Please?” He groaned.

“Fine.” I smiled, using my arms to pull him down to me for another kiss. 

 I texted Connor to tell him that both Gavin and I were coming over. He said that both he and Hank were home and that should be fine. He also asked me if we were going to watch another Muppets movie tonight. I told him we’d see.

Gavin parked in the driveway and didn’t move from his seat.

“It’ll be fine. Just be nice to Connor.” I unbuckled my seat belt and Gavin slowly followed. I walked into the house. Sumo ran up to me and wagged his tale. “Hi, Sumo.”

“Hello (Y/n), and Gavin.” Connor said from the kitchen table, my dad turned around from the couch to look at us.

“Uh hey Gavin whatcha doing here?” My dad asked his brow furrowed, before Gavin could answer I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen table and sat down.

“I invited him. Is that okay?” I looked down at the table to see what Connor was working on. I smiled; he was doing a puzzle…except all the pieces were the same color. He seemed to be having no problem with it all.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” My dad shifted, uncomfortably, and took a sip of his beer, turning back towards the tv.

“Is that last night's game?” Gavin asked, craning his neck to try to see the tv.

“Yup.” I nudged Gavin and nodded for him to go over there.

“Go watch the game with him!” I whispered. He nodded and got up to go sit next to my dad. I tried to read my dad's expression, but it seemed clouded. I looked at Connor who hadn’t looked up from his puzzle, but his LED was spinning yellow. “Con, are you okay?”

“Yes, all my systems are operational.” He nervously glanced up at me.

“Connor.” I tried again.

“(Y/n), how’s your proposal going?” My dad shouted over the tv. I looked over at him.

“I sent it off this afternoon. I’ll probably start arranging interviews next Monday, since my class is only on Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Have you decided if you will be interviewing me?” Connor asked. I smiled and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I hope so, I’m a little worried about interviewing you and dad. Since it technically is a conflict of interest. Hopefully my colleagues can overlook that considering how much you two did for the revolution.”

“You gonna write about your boyfriend pointing a gun at Connor?” My dad grunted, I looked at Connor and he looked back down at the puzzle.

“That’s taken out of context!” Gavin huffed.

“Is it, Reed?”

“He was interfering with Chris’ job!”

“So, you point a goddamn gun at him?” My dad yelled.

“You pointed a gun at me!”

“BECAUSE YOU WERE GOING TO SHOOT CONNOR!”

“YEAH, BUT I DIDN’T!” 

“Dad! Gavin!” I shouted at them. Gavin looked at me, he was fuming. “My book will have the relevant information pertaining to the sociological explanation for the android revolution and whatever that includes. If I deem it to be relevant, it will be in my book.”

“I think it’s pretty relevant. He could’ve killed Connor.” I slammed my hands on the table, all three men jumped.

“Dad, can I talk to you in the other room.” He sat the beer down on the coffee table and followed me into his room. “Dad, what the fuck!” I aggressively whispered at him.

“What? I’m being honest!” He said right back.

“He’s a guest!”

“He’s an asshole!”

“You can be too sometimes, so can everyone! But I like him, doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Why did you even bring him here?”

“I brought him here because I like him, and I thought you wanted to be more in my life! Well, hello if I’m going to date Gavin that’s a part of my life, so get used to it!”

“(Y/n)! I’ve known Gavin way longer than you have. I know what he’s like, he won’t be good for you! You’re better off without him!” I glared at him.

“You’re not even giving him a chance!” 

“I don’t have to! I’m your father and I’m telling you he’s no good for you!”

“You lost the chance to tell me what’s good for me when you decided you were done caring for me and mom. Ten fucking years I don’t hear from you and now you want to tell me how to live my goddamn life? No fucking way! You don’t have a say in who I date or who I like! I am a grown fucking woman, so even if you had been present in my life I’d still be pissed that you’re trying to control me. This is my life and if you want to be in it then you need to back off now, because I’m living it on my terms and no one else's!” 

I quickly ran out of the room before he could notice the tears in my eyes. Gavin was standing at the end of the hallway and I grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door after me.

[jungle321jungle]

Run A Rig: Part One

He wanted the title, and the Captain wanted to be anything but idle.

The Siren wanted the sea, and the liar wanted all to be free.

They wanted their brother back, but each journey is more perilous than the last.

The Serpent’s Song is a ship for many, and at the same time a ship for none. Because when everyone runs a rig, nothing true can be done.

Tagging: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17

Ao3 - Masterlist

~~~~

Part One

He had been born for this.

His mother had given birth to him here, on the ship when a storm had stranded them too far from shore. He has grown up here, watching in awe as all the true pirates around him lived out their daily adventure.

His mother had taught him how to sail, how to read maps, how to run a ship. While his father had taught him how to use a cutlass, use a pistol, and how to be a true Captain.

All his life he had reaped the benefits of being the Captain’s son.

So why wasn’t he being made Captain?

He watched his father smile as he swung an arm around Logan’s shoulder a large smile on his face.

“What’s yer first order as Cap’n?” His father asked.

Logan smiled in return, “Kicking ye the hell off me ship!”

A laugh erupted in return but he just couldn’t bring himself to join in.

“Ye gave away me ship.”

His father raised an eyebrow as he entered the Captain’s cabin, “A ship is earned, not given. I taught you that.”

“Ye gave it to Logan! Him of all people! Logan belonged to me ! Ye gave me him as a present!”

“Aye,” his father nodded. “I had planned to kill the little stowaway, but I had thought ye’d like someone yer own age. So I gave ‘im to ye. But he proved himself. He is smart, and skilled and he’s tried harder than anyone else. He proved himself... more than ye ever have Dante.”

“Ye bilge rat! ”

His father’s eyes narrowed as he stood his hand on his cutlass’ hilt as he did, “I dare ye to speak such words again.”

Dee faltered taking a step back against the door before he spoke again, “This ship was supposed to be mine .”

“The Serpent's Song is better off with ye as far from being Captain as possible.”

Each word was a blow.

Quite frankly Dee would have preferred his father running him through with that sword. Because even days later as they dropped his parents at the port, he could still feel them.

“Ye hate me.”

Logan didn’t phrase it as a question.

Dee didn’t move or even look up from where he sat on the bowsprit looking at the water below, “I don’t know if hate is the right word.”

“Yer going to fall sitting there.”

“Ye always say that, and yet I never have.”

“I can’t give ye Captain,” Logan said after a short pause. “Not after yer father...” he gave a sigh. “but how does first mate sound?”

“Patronizing.”

He heard as Logan gave a chuckle, “I guess it would. But the offer is there. I don’t want to have to give it to someone else.”

“Feel free too.”

Logan left then, a sigh spilling from his lips as he did. Leaving Dee alone with his thoughts, the ocean air, and the setting sun.

“You wish to be Captain?”

The voice stirred Dee awake and he hurriedly grabbed onto the bowsprit before he could fall from it. He gave a deep breath to calm himself as he pulled himself back up on the deck and looked out at the starry sky.

How long had been sitting there?

“Do you wish to be Captain?”

The voice pierced itself through his psyche once more and Dee searches for its owner. The others on the deck were in the back at the helm with Logan, so it was too far away for it to be them.

“You’re jealous of him. He’s only where he is today because of you. And you want that.”

Dee grit his teeth as he leaned back over the side and his eyes widened as he noticed the figure down below. It was hard to make out in the moonlight, but it almost looked like a person.

But despite how far away he was, his voice still rang clear in Dee’s ears.

“I can make you Captain. I can make you all that and more... jump down here and we can talk about it.”

Dee’s eyes narrowed as he understood, “Siren.”

He could hear the laugh he got in return. It was light, it was kind, it was friendly . “I can make you into someone even greater than your father.”

“I’m not stupid!” Dee called down at the creature.

“No one ever said you are. But perhaps that’s what your father was implying.”

Dee bit his lip as he forced himself to take a step away. He was going to go to his cabin, and get some sleep.

“Running from your problems? What will that accomplish? Do you plan to run from being first mate too? Are you hung to become a lowly deckhand when you could be in charge?”

Dee took a step forward, then another, then another.

“Logan was once your pet... but no w I suppose I should congratulate you on becoming his.”

The water was cold and it gave him a sudden shock but Dee paid it no mind as he drew his dagger swimming towards the creature.

The siren only smiled at him, baring it’s pointy teeth. Up close Dee could see his scales were a brilliant purple, but he didn’t care enough to stare as he slashed at it only for its head to duck below the waves.

Dee paused, treading water trying to figure out where it went-

He was pulled beneath the waves before he could process it. He bent slashing wildly on instinct and was rewarded with the hand releasing him. He kicked to the surface and he was vaguely aware of someone shouting for him.

“You’ll pay for that.”

Dee smiled out at the water as he readied his dagger. “Make me wench .”

“Dee!”

Dee glanced up as he noticed Logan descending Jacob’s Ladder. “What the fuck are ye doing?” He shouted.

“There’s a siren!” Dee yelled back. “And I’m going to fucking kill it! Get back on the ship!”

“Ye first!”

“Since when do I take orders from ye?”

“Since I became ye Captain!”

Dee’s eyes narrowed before he went back to focusing on the environment around him, “Then I’ll take me chances with the siren.”

“Ye insolent knave!” Logan shouted back descending further.

Dee was going to respond when a shimmer caught his eye. He lunged toward it- but the siren was faster.

And Logan’s neck was in his scaled hand.

Dee’s grip on the dagger tightened almost painfully as he watched the creature smile. “Let him go.”

“Why?” The siren challenged. “I thought you wanted to be Captain.”

“If I wanted him dead I’d do it myself.”

“Oh I see,” it cooed. “You love him.”

Dee threw himself forward, but instead of going for its face he dove beneath and stabbed the siren in its tail.

It gave a howl of pain which could be heard under the water before it lashed out, its long nails digging deep into Dee’s in the face. But Dee ignored it as he twisted in his blade.

Hands pulled him back to the surface and he rose gasping for air as Logan dragged him toward the ladder. Dee closed his eye to keep the blood from dripping in as he looked to the siren to a net thrown down around it.

~~~~

“Fighting a siren! How stupid are ye?”

“Where did they throw it?” Dee asked in response. “I will kill it.”

Logan gave him a glare, “Ye will do nothing of the sort. We’ll wait until we reach port, and then we’ll sell it. There’s no point in killing it... Not to mention ye need a rest a bit.”

Dee’s gaze fell to the floor as touched the bandaged side of his face, “I’m fine.”

“Fine people don’t jump off ships to fight sirens. Ye could have died! If it hadn’t killed ye, ye would’ve been keelhauled if I hadn’t seen ye jump!”

“Why did ye follow me?”

“Because yer outta yer mind.”

“Ye got hurt because of me.”

Logan gave a sigh, “I chose to go down there Dee.”

“Ye shouldn’t have.”

“What kind of Captain would I be if I didn’t try to help my only friend?”

Friend.

Dee shook his head, “Can I at least talk to it, Captain ?”

He glanced to look up at Logan's surprised face, “Come morning,” he answered. “Come morning.”

~~~~

Despite what Logan had said, Dee had found his way down to where the siren was being held, and he was surprised to hear voices from inside.

“You’re quite stupid for a Captain.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, a good Captain would never go save a crewmen himself. He’d order the others to- that is if he decides to save the man at all.”

“Ye know many pirates I take it?” Came Logan’s mocking tone.

Dee slowly moved closer and peered in the open crack at the door. From the lantern glow he could see Logan sitting across from a basin of water.

The siren had changed forms.

Gone were those purple scales and long tail. Instead two legs stuck out of where it was sitting in a large tub of water. One of the legs was bandaged as was it’s hand. But most shocking of all was the fact that he was naked.

“I’ve killed a great many, yes,” he shrugged the chain around his wrists clanking as he did. “They’re usually the easiest to catch. And I nearly had that pet of yours too.”

“He’s not a pet,” Logan said shortly.

“Ah yes of course, I’m sorry you’re his pet aren’t you?”

“Ye-”

“You were young and a stowaway. Running from the brothel and the strumpet you were birthed to. That ship she always spoke was leaving and it was your chance. So you took it. And you’ve regretted ever since. All you’ve wanted since that moment was to return and find your mother. To apologize... But you can’t. And you never will .”

“Unless I let ye go?”

“Oh no, I’d expect no such thing from you.”

“Then what do ye expect?”

“For you to accomplish your goal. For you to burn your father’s ship and legacy to the ground.”

Dee watched in confusion and he saw as the siren’s purple eyes met his in the doorway, but in front of Dee Logan hadn’t seemed to notice.

“I don’t know what yer talking about.”

“There’s no need to lie with me Logan,” The siren purred. “I already know what you want, and all that goes with it... but does he know?”

“He doesn’t need to know anything.”

“But I’m sure he has some questions.”

“And I don’t care.”

Logan rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, and Dee scrambled away, back toward his cabin.

~~~~

“What were ye talking to Logan about, siren?”

The siren raised an eyebrow and now up close Dee could see his short hair was a deep purple, as were his eyes. Both seemed to serve as proof that he wasn’t human.

“I do not call you ‘human’,” he replied. “I do have a name.”

“And I don’t care to know it.”

“Ah, so your brother received all the manners I see?”

Dee raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I don’t have a brother.”

“Oh? Apologies, I must’ve have been horribly mistaken.”

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Why don’t you ask your Captain?”

Dee paused, “Logan doesn’t talk about his past... was what ye said true?”

The siren gave him a smile and Dee could see some of his teeth still were pointed, “And what would I gain from doing so? Regardless of if I choose to help you or not, I will be sold once we reach port.”

“Ye words won’t have an affect on me this time,” Dee said shaking his head.

The siren gave a shrug, “Worth a shot.”

Dee gave an eye roll as thought occurred to him, “I thought ye sirens were supposed to sing to yer prey? Meanwhile ye just talk a lot.”

The siren stared blankly back, “I can sing if I wanted to. But you’re so simple I don’t have a need.”

“You spoke to him?” Logan asked. “Did ye actually gain anything from it?”

Dee shook his head, “No, but I did want to say I’m sorry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow amused, “Would ye like to repeat that? Perhaps in front of the crew?”

Dee rolled his eyes, “I want to be ye first mate.”

Logan paused and turned to look him in the eye, “Are ye plotting a mutiny?”

“ I was born a pirate.”

Logan gave a nod accepting the answer as he stared out at the open water, “Good. I will need ye help the most... Because I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Become the best captain in history?”

Logan shook his head, “Ye have always been good at dumbing things down to be as simple as ye.”

“I’m not simple. And why isn’t that simple? Yer a Cap’n now.”

“I’d always thought ye’d be the youngest Captain of the age and I’d be one of yer hands... Never thought I’d be given the Serpent’s Song.”

“A ship is earned,” Dee corrected. “And according me father ye earned it. But perhaps if he had waited two years so I could reach ye age, I could’ve done even better.”

“Sure.”

“I know what ye need! After we get that annoying siren off our hands at port, we’ll get ye some proper Captain clothes. The coat, the hat, it all.”

“I’m not a flashy person Dee.”

“Ye don’t have a choice. Ye still look like a hand right now.”

“...Fine.”

~~~~

Hello and welcome back to I have too many AUs, featuring Pirates!

Part One - Part Two

[r6s-imagines]

44 with Maverick please?

for sure! i’ve recently purchased maverick and hoo boy his voice is something else.

side note: i wanted this to work so bad, i dug my heels into the mud and powered through every block i faced!! i also got kinda carried away so it’s pretty lengthy

maverick x reader >> is she pretty?

•••

MASTERLIST

requested: yes!!!!

warnings: cursing, a lil sadness

prompts:

#44: “if i could marry anyone, i’d still choose you.”

the prompt list can be found here

•••

summary: with all of the time erik spends on his work, your mind begins to believe that he’s found other partners besides yourself.

•••

erik wasn’t hard to love, despite the doubts of others.

erik’s always been closed off, careful to keep his emotions at bay and substitute the suppression with the examination. it was a miracle you stuck around after the first date, he’d say. it was always your job to speak and his job to analyze every word. you’ve only admitted it once or twice, but you found your thighs tightening just watching his piercing gaze. he trusted nobody as much as you, cutting his hair, choosing his outfits or providing advice to improve suri. you saw his scars, his tears, and his laughs, and you loved every inch of his being. while erik rarely verbally expressed his affection, the thought was never neglected. when there’s time, he’ll climb into the bed late at night and wrap his arms around your waist, sighing into your ear. if you asked, he’d talk for hours about this and that from kabul, how you needed to try this food or learn this phrase in dari.

if erik wasn’t tinkering away with suri at your shared apartment, he was at the operative’s base, fighting for what’s right and ensuring the safety of his teammates. it just so happened that his most recent departure was to last half a year, sans electronics or any form of communication to protect against interference.

no calls, texts. you would have forgotten his face if it weren’t for the photos from the years. your mother would always tell you it was about time to marry that man, but you wanted to wait. if thorn was going to call you his, he’d wait on his own time. your mother would heckle him on the limited days he’d spend with his second parents, “discreetly” bringing up your ring size or inquire about the best man, if he had to choose. he’d merely exhale with a polite smile, picking at the food. you silently agreed with his wordless response. neither of you needed a certificate to prove your bond, while it may have been a sweet gesture if provided at any time.

erik kept his eyes on a photo of you whenever he could. it was always tucked into a pocket for quick access. during a close situation, he’d wring his hands, feeling over the tattoo of your initials on his ring finger through his gloves.

if only he could tell you he did such.

as one month turned to two and two turned to three, you began to pace anxiously, wondering how your lover was from a world away. you went through his office, perusing through the operator files and transcripts of his data, just to read his psychological profile and smile at the accuracy. you went through his rewards and souvenirs of his time in kabul, locating a spare outfit of the one he wore to missions. some days you’d wear his coat in public, and others you’d shrivel up into a fetal position under it and weep into the sleeve. your heart ached more than anything to rekindle the scents of him in your living space. you were empty, half of a person.

could he be... you perished the thought. don’t even think about it, he’s the smartest man you know! he wouldn’t put his life on the line like that! even in your nightmares, you’d watch him on the battlefield, a fallen soldier with his eyes open for the last time. you told yourself you’d love him despite any flaws, but the idea of him learning to reuse a lost limb haunted your deepest conscience. you just hoped that, more than anything, he’d be the same erik thorn that you met on that fateful day.

as you’re going through the files for what feels like the thousandth time, you finally notice a note previously missed.

“synergies: iq’s r.e.d. works exceptionally well with maverick, and it’s a blessing that the two of them are so compatible.“

“i’ve never heard of an iq,” you said, scrunching your nose. your eyes trailed down to the bottom of the page.

“additional operator’s notes:

‘he’s unlike anything i’ve seen. it’s no mystery he carries himself well; he deserves the spotlight for his extraordinary performance.’

—monika ‘iq’ weiss”

monika? you’ve never heard of her. your heart plummeted, assuming the worst. if you’ve never heard the name from his lips, and they seem to be so close, there was really only one conclusion: he was hiding her from you. but erik wouldn’t do that, right?

...right?

the next few days left you torn. the only person that seemed to want you was your bed, and you could no longer even look into his area of the room without feeling like you were intruding on this mystery woman’s side.

three months turned to four and four turned to five and a half. the idea of counting the days left on your fingers was thrilling, and you couldn’t wait to be back in his arms. the arms that another girl’s been in, your conscience spat at you. you shake your head, hard enough to remove any bad thoughts. it clawing never ceased, though, and you wanted to just cry from seeing his face. you never wanted to bring it up in fear of ruining what the two of you have been building for several years. if you pretended enough, it wouldn’t become a problem.

the day finally came.

you weren’t necessarily a trophy wife, but you prided in being able to make a full, home-cooked meal. just as you’re garnishing a pasta dish, you heard keys jingle into the lock. your knees nearly gave in but you pushed on, wiping your hands on your jeans and turning towards the entrance with a sincere smile.

his back faced you first, locking the door behind him. your heart jumped at the surreal experience, watching his tired movements complete actions he’d done for years prior. he slowly spun, eyes meeting you own. his glance was empty, more exhausted than you’ve ever seen him. his hair had grown out to his shoulders and his beard was begging for a razor. had you not known that his hair was past due before he left, you’d say he looked just like the time back in kabul, disheveled. you took slow strides, taking in every detail of his face before wrapping your arms around his middle. he placed his around your neck and held you close, breathing heavily to stop any tears. it was quiet, no words needed to be exchanged.

“i missed you,” he said lowly, voice cracking slightly. you smiled, blinking a tear from your lashes.

“i missed you too.”

it took a full minute to separate and you took off his jacket, leading him with a hand to the dining room.

“i can’t remember the last time i ate food that wasn’t packaged,” he observed, grabbing a fork and looking up. “you’re off.”

“off? how do you mean?” you swallowed. erik’s profile literally states how well he is at reading people. no amount of acting could stop his analytical gaze from staring straight into your soul. “i’m alright.”

“i’ve known you for nine years, i know when you’re lying to me.” you sighed, downing your wine.

“monika?” you mumbled to see if he would pick it up.

“what about her?” so he acknowledges it.

“who’s that?”

“coworker,” he elaborated. “why’d you ask?”

“you like her at all?”

his brows furrowed and he leaned back, tilting his head.

“yes, i’d say so. she gets the job done and she knows what she’s doing.”

“and?”

“that’s the end of it,” he took a bite.

“is she pretty?”

“what is this about?” erik placed his hands on the table, not loud enough to be called a slam, but it got the message across. you shrunk in your seat, feeling embarrassed just bringing it up. “did you go through my copy of my profile?” you nodded slowly. he stood up straighter than before.

“y/n. we’re coworkers,” he emphasized, face still. “did you really think that—“

“i dont know what i thought! i’ve never heard you talk about her and it’s been a long time—“

“six months is nothing compared to the years i’ve spent with you,” erik arose. “she happens to have a gadget that works well with my own. we need to communicate to get anything done.” you placed your head in your hands, flushed. just when you thought he was done, he continued to speak.

“i love you too much to even think of it. every minute i spent on mission, i had you in my head. i came real close to the end at one point. do you know what i said? ‘what is y/n going to say?’ i wouldn’t leave you, ever. you’re the reason i’m still standing, so if you think you’re worth any less than you are, then for the first time in ages, you’re wrong. never underestimate yourself,” as he spoke, he moved closer, embracing you once more. his scruffy chin rested on top of your head, jaw bouncing as he murmured every word. “i’d live for you, because i couldn’t stand to part from your side. i swear, those six months felt like hell and seeing you here isn’t real. i really didn’t think i had separation anxiety since that first date. you closed that door behind you and i felt so alone, i never knew how isolated i was from happiness.”

he parted, reaching to his hung jacket and fishing into the pocket. his large hand concealed the item, but you already began to cry at the thought.

“and i want this to remind you,” he got onto one knee, fumbling with the box before opening it. “if i could marry anyone, i’d still choose you.”

he didn’t even have to pop the question, you were already nodding and wiping your cheeks from the spilling emotions. he took the ring from the box, placing it on your finger.

“i planned for a different scenario,” erik admitted. “but any moment is perfect with you.”

“that’s so cheesy,” you said, smiling goofily. “i would’ve said yes any day.” you leaned into a kiss, sharing a moment of happiness for half a minute or so. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” erik replied. “please don’t forget that.”

[im-a-special-bebe]

Tread Lightly

Centaur!Wonho

(Please credit me if you use the moodboard!)

Warnings: Some violence, NSFW for some smut - and I feel obliged to say this but NO bestiality y’all.  

@raibebe OTL I’ve been writing for days. It was supposed to be a short, sweet thing, but it had a life of its own, so now it’s at 3,700+ words aaahhh T_T 

*********************************************** 

You had been running for days now. As an accomplished but destitute thief whose money never lasted long, you were still generally good at picking your victims. However, the increased number of guards in the village had made things difficult in the past few months. This was why in a moment of desperation, you had decided to pickpocket a raggedy-looking man’s money pouch. Unfortunately for you, he had turned out to be the lord of the village in disguise. 

In paying attention to the obvious danger of his men chasing you out of the village, you hadn’t thought of the more insidious one - you didn’t know where you were going. So now here you were, deep in the bowels of the rapidly darkening forest, lost.

For the two nights that had passed since you had unwittingly pushed further into the emerald realm, you hadn’t dared to eat any of the enticing berries and fruits for fear of not knowing if they were poisonous due to your lack of knowledge, and the little ponds of water had been few and far in between. Sleep had been a foreign concept as you had lain on the rough earth, exhaustion weighing on you but the eerie sounds of scuttling insects and distant howls and cries and wild beasts keeping you awake. Tonight looked to be no different, except that you weren’t sure that you would live to see the morning.

You grit your teeth as yet another sharp twig scraped your bare feet - your flimsy slippers hadn’t even made it through the first day.

The sudden thundering of approaching hooves had adrenaline overtaking the tiredness in your body as you instinctively broke out into a run. Even getting lost in this forest would be better than getting captured, tortured, maimed, and hung in the town square, in that exact order.

You heard a shout, but the voice was unlike anything you’d heard before, both harsh like rocks grating on one another and yet accompanied by the soft rush of a flowing stream. You briefly glanced back over your shoulder to identify who was chasing you, but a twisting creeper you’d missed caught your foot, bringing you to crash onto the ground.

You turned around, apprehension a solid ice freezing your veins, and gasped. There was no way this was real. There stood two tall and muscled brutes that would’ve far surpassed the biggest of wrestlers from your village, but they stood on not two legs, but four.

Their darkly bearded faces with ferocious yellow eyes and sharp teeth were accompanied by bare, scar-littered torsos. It was these male torsos that led to similarly haired horses’ bodies.

Centaurs.

A frivolous myth - or so you’d thought.

‘I saw it first.’ One of them spoke, his rumbling voice from before sending a shiver through you. As his statement registered, you looked around, expecting to see some animal that they head been chasing, but you found nothing.

Your movement drew their attention, and they immediately focused their gaze on your person. That was when it dawned that they were talking about you.

And you had been relegated to an it. 

They may have been fantastical creatures, but they leered at you the way the dirty, perverted men in the village did, their predatory intent clear in those glowing eyes.

You scrambled up and away, needing to escape again, but just as quick, an arm snagged around your waist and you were yanked up high - you’d surmised earlier that these two measured in at about seven feet - before being hauled over a shoulder effortlessly like you were a rabbit pelt rather than a grown woman.

'You can have it after I’m done with with it.’ The one holding you said, and the horror of your impending fate had you trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

A heavy blow landed on your ass so hard that tears tracked down your face. This only made you renew your feverish struggles, which was a worse decision because a hand wrapped around your right ankle and twisted.

A loud, pained scream burst from your lips as agony burned through your leg. You hung there limply, praying for the horrible pain to ebb.

'What’s going on here?’ A new voice spoke, more flowing and melodious than the other two, but still with that rumbling undertone nonetheless. The creature restraining you stiffened.

What was it that had him being cautious?

You soon found out when you were lifted off his shoulder as he imprisoned your wrists in one hand and turned you around so that you were suspended a few feet above the ground.

Your vision was blurry from your tears, but you blinked them away to assess the newcomer. He was about as tall and naked as the other two, and boasted his own set of broad shoulders, firm pectorals and defined abdominal muscles. 

However, while they were clearly built for intimidation, his proportions along with his almost incongruently pale, nearly translucent skin afforded him a male beauty that was simply breathtaking. You tore your eyes from his barely- scarred body - yet another difference from the others - to his face and you inhaled sharply. Straight strands of dark, messy hair fell over his forehead and pointy elven ears, and his eyebrows arched in curiosity as his deep blue-green eyes studied you. Your gaze fell to his perfect, soft pink lips, and he must have noticed because they curved into a smirk.

He reached for you then, and all your interest was quickly quashed in favor of survival. You instinctively lashed out, kicking him in the stomach. The two other creatures bristled with anger and snarls dropped from between their teeth. He didn’t seem to feel any pain, but his beautiful eyes narrowed in reproach, as if he hadn’t thought of you to be capable of such a thing.

You could hardly think about it though, because the next moment, the centaur holding you had flung you through the air, no doubt punishment for your mistake.

Terror took over your system, and your back hit a wide tree trunk, the rough bark abrading your skin harshly as you had the breath knocked out of you. You crumpled to the floor, the hunger, exhaustion, and slicing pain catching up to you all at once as black dots danced before your eyes.

A roar of rage was a dull thrum in your mind as you succumbed to the darkness.

************************************************

You awoke in a soft pallet of sheets on the ground, and you were surrounded by nearly translucent navy blue curtains made of a light material. Beyond them, you could see that you were in what appeared to be a very large tent with carpets and candles strewn about.

A throat cleared next to you and you turned sharply to see the handsome man from before.

Wait. How was he able to lie with you like … Oh. Where the half of his horse body had been were now two human legs, encased in a faded brown fabric that stretched around his thick thighs.

'I thought my full form might be uncomfortable, so you’ll have to cope with the lack of hooves.’

You gaped at him, his mischievous grin a little too familiar for your liking.

'Where am I?’ You managed to croak, and gratefully accepted the bowl of water that he gave to you

'Heart of the forest.’ He replied as you drank greedily.

You caught sight of a circlet of intricately intertwined vines, leaves, and petals sitting atop his head. That definitely hadn’t been there before.

‘Who are you?’

‘Wonho.’

'And the ruler of this place?’

'Of the centaurs, and other creatures, yes. The forest doesn’t like to be ruled.’

That made sense to you. Now for the more pressing question.

'What do you want with me?’

His eyes darkened, the aquamarine blue shifting to an emerald that matched the canopy of the trees outside.

'A lot many things.’ he said, his voice silky as he scooted closer to you, his naked chest just about pressing into your side. The mellifluous quality of his syllables was even more pronounced as he walked the fingers of one hand up your thigh where your bedraggled white dress had ridden up, 'What will you let me have?’

Your eyes widened, but the fear that had started to creep through you didn’t have a chance to take hold as he threw his head back and laughed.

Unthinkingly, you smacked his shoulder in annoyance, but he only took your hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. You’re safe here.’

A trickle of warmth meandered into your heart. 

‘So you won’t give me to those two from before?’

His jaw hardened. 

‘Absolutely not.’ 

He could see the questions in your gaze and he sighed.

‘Centaurs … we’re not used to being denied.’

‘What?’

What kind of dictatorial bullshit was this?

‘I mean that the other creatures who do wander into our kind’s stronghold do so willingly. It’s been that way for centuries. We’re lustful creatures more in tune with our wild sides and baser instincts, so our reputation is well-known. Those two were young enough to have never even heard a refusal from a potential conquest, let alone face actual resistance. They thought you were a nymph.’

‘A nymph?’

‘Nymphs are woodland fae that like to play games sometimes, they like to be chased, make their partners work for the thrill.’

You swallowed as you were taken aback by the mental image of him being the one to chase you down for fun. You were even more taken aback by how much you liked it.

Right.

‘Why would they think I was a nymph though?’

‘They’ve never seen a human before. One of your kind hasn’t ventured this deep for a very long time. In any case, their treatment of you will not be tolerated, it’s not our way.’

‘Oh.’

You shifted slightly to get comfortable and winced as your various injuries reminded you of their existence. 

‘Let me see.’ 

‘Wonho, I - ‘

‘I can heal it, I promise.’

The throbbing in your ankle was only getting worse, but you hardly knew what he meant by healing, so you hesitated. 

‘C’mon, little human. I don’t bite unless you want me to.’ he winked.

‘What makes you think I’d want you to?’ you challenged, feeling brave in the face of his cockiness.

He moved towards you then, one hand finding the ground on the other side of your waist to balance himself as he hovered over you. His green eyes were entrancing with their dialated black pupils, and his mist and earth scent was intoxicating. 

Your breaths stuttered as his head dipped below your collarbone, his soft lips skimming the skin of your left breast as he pulled your dress out of the way. Your half-hearted protest died as his mouth wrapped around the stiff peak and sucked.

Your head fell back with your gasp. His hot tongue came out to play, laving the tight bud and swirling around it in short, precise circles that had you writhing under him as your nails dug into his thick biceps.

‘Still don’t want me to bite?’

‘I - ah!’

You felt him smirk sinfully as his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive tip before tugging sharply. Your back arched as you moaned, the pleasure so acute. He gave you another loud suck and then pulled away, looking altogether too pleased with himself.

You lay there, letting your breathing return to normal and hastily covering yourself back up as he returned with another bowl. This one held some kind of dull pink paste, and a wonderful sweet smell emanated from it.

He set it down and held his hand out for you to take so that he could pull you up into a sitting position. He took a seat in front of you, gently pulling your ankle into his lap and dipping his fingers into the bowl.

‘What is that?’

‘A lotion of crushed wildflowers.’

‘And that’s going to heal me?’ You were no doctor, but you knew that it was entirely too optimistic to rely on flowers and pastes to cure you.

‘No, I am.’

‘How?’

He smiled, as if your curiosity amused him.

‘Magic,’ he said simply, ‘But for my powers to manifest, they need a channel, a physical connector.’

As he spoke, his hands glowed a light sheen of cerulean blue, and you were hit by how other he was. The moonlight fell through an opening at the top of the tent and sifted through the translucent curtains to bathe him in a lustrous light. With his skin bare and luminous of its own, his glimmering aqua eyes, and his dark hair that seemed to have life despite the lack of wind, he was every bit an otherworldly mythical creature, even in this human form that he adorned.

His hands pressed lightly into your ankle as he rubbed the lotion into the skin, but instead of the pain, you felt a calming warmth. As you watched, the swelling subsided, and when he stopped after a few moments, you were indeed healed. 

You stared at him in awe and wonder.

‘Come.’ he said, and you crawled closer to him, letting him turn you around so that you were seated with your back facing him and he sat on his knees behind you.

And then he yanked your dress over your head in a casual manner.

You sucked in a breath, your hands clenching in the mussed sheets of the pallet, more sure now than ever that centaurs were not shy creatures at all.

His lotion-dipped fingers caressed your bruised back, smoothly stroking the injured skin, and the combination of his healing warmth and cool night air made you shiver.

‘You smell even sweeter than the flowers.’ he said against the crook of your neck as he inhaled you. His husky voice had your nipples hardening and liquid heat pooling in your stomach.

‘What is that?’ he questioned suddenly, and you winced as he touched the top of your ass, no doubt inquiring about the red handprint that should have bloomed over your skin by now as a result of the harsh hit that you had endured earlier.

You braved a glance at him to find that his eyes were so dark with fury that the green had almost bled into black.

‘He will pay for this. I vow to you.’

You nodded, risking a pat to his knee to soothe his anger.

He pulled you up so that you were kneeling, your weight no match for his supernatural strength. 

You felt the coolness of the paste as he slowly cupped your ass. Your breaths came in shallow and he groaned, marveling at how perfectly you fit in his hand as he massaged you.

Your body sang from the feel of his touch, all the hurt and pain washed away to be replaced with a delicate arousal that hummed over your skin. 

You let out a startled gasp as he snaked an arm around your waist, hauling you into his lap until his toned chest was pressed against your back and you could feel him hard and ready against the base of your spine.

‘Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me as much as I want you.’ he said huskily.

‘Yes.’ you breathed, heart pounding in anticipation. 

The word had barely left your mouth when his hands came up to cup your breasts, squeezing and molding the pliant flesh. His fingers plucked and teased the erect peaks with such expertise that it had you moaning as you grinded against him. 

‘So responsive to me.’ he groaned, his fingers more insistent in their ministrations until you were mewling, your head tossed back on his shoulder as he dipped his head so that his hot, wet lips could paint the prettiest of bruises on the delicate skin of your neck.

He slid one hand to your aching, dripping wetness, caressing the skin of your ribs and stomach on the way there while the other continued to deliciously torment your right nipple, almost as if making up for not having given it the attention that its twin had enjoyed earlier. 

With the first confident brush of his thumb againt your sensitive clit, an eager cry fell from your lips, and as he circled it while slipping two fingers into your heat, your pulse thundered in your veins.

‘So drenched for me,’ he whispered, ‘I can’t wait to have you.’

‘So have me.’ you replied, sure that you would go insane with need if he denied you any longer.

He released your breast to grab your thigh and splay you wide so that insides of your thighs were pressed against the outsides of his, leaving you spread open for him. 

His arm wrapped around your waist again, and he lifted you slightly so that he could enter you, filling you up with a fullness that was beyond compare to anything you’d felt with anyone else.

That’s when you realized that there was more of him.

‘It’s too much.’ you gasped.

He gave a brief respite to your almost oversensitive clit to cup your cheek, a finger against your parted mouth as he turned your face to press a soft kiss to your other cheek.

‘You can take me, lovely. Ease up for me.’

You met his gaze, his dark eyes so mesmerizing, and you gripped the hand holding your face to slip his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and swirling your tongue around them.

He let out a moan of appreciation, brows furrowing in pleasure as he moved in slow, shallow strokes, coaxing you to accept all of him until you were stretched around him so tight.

His hand slipped free of your mouth to find your clit again as he pushed into you, every stroke hitting you so good that you could barely breathe, your pleasured cries echoing in the night.

Soon enough, his name was a desperate moan on your lips and his strong arms held you steady, your nails digging into his thick thighs as you crested over the blessed high that you’d been chasing, spiralling into an abyss of vivid color and electric feeling. He groaned beneath you, kissing your neck and joining you in your euphoria as he spilled into you, with his chest heaving and his breaths  harsh pants. 

It was a few moments before he moved, gently sliding from you as you moaned, your body thrumming with overstimulation. 

‘So beautiful.’ he whispered, a smile on his lips and eyes shining as he cradled you, laying you down on the pallet.

‘Rest.’ he said, brushing your hair away from your forehead before caressing your face, and you didn’t need telling twice as you let sleep take you.

The last thing you remembered was being held in his warm embrace.

************************************************

You stood at the outer edges of the forest. Or more accurately, Wonho stood in the fully glory of his centaur form as he carried you, your arms around his neck, your body pressed against his chest, and your legs wrapped around his lean waist. After he’d woken you up to wash your face in a nearby stream and stubbornly hand-fed you a large bowl of fruits for breakfast, you had set out to return to your village. He’d offered to just carry you outright, but you’d wanted to make things easier on him. 

You had also thought that it would have been much easier to ride him, but given that he hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to risk offending him by asking. 

You heard something in the bushes, and Wonho snapped a nearby branch off a tree, his glowing hands quickly transforming it into a large claymore sword. With his intense gazed focused on any signs of danger, he looked every bit the wild, kingly warrior he was.

He stepped back so the two of you were hidden by foliage, and he used his free hand to tuck your face into his shoulder before returning it to your waist. 

The passing creature turned out to be one of the usual patrolling guards of the city - one that you would have no problem getting past. It would seem that the lord’s men had given up their search on you in the days past. 

‘I can find my way from here.’ you murmured once the man had passed. 

Wonho carefully lowered you to the ground and transformed so that he was in his human state again, although he was still at least a head taller than you. 

‘Thank you for everything.’ you said sincerely.

‘I should be the one saying that.’ he smiled mischievously, gaze lingering on the love bites on your neck as his fingers delicately grazed your cheek and you blushed fiercely at his words. 

You knew that you shouldn’t linger for long lest another guard come by, but his vivid aquamarine eyes reflected a tiny sliver of sadness and a you felt a pang in your heart at the thought of parting from him, even though you had only known him for so short a while. Instead of stepping away from him like you should have, you stepped closer, fingers tangling in the dark locks at the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. 

Each brush of his soft lips against yours had your heart beating faster, and his arms circled your waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue melting against yours. You found yourself pinned to a tree with your arms curled around his neck as he kissed you passionately. 

‘The things you do to me, lovely little human.’ he sighed as you broke apart to breathe, and he used the pause to pull you to his chest, gently smoothing your hair. 

With a heavy heart, you let go of him and turned towards your village.

‘I’ll see you again.’ you said softly.

‘Call my name,’ Wonho smiled, ‘the wind will carry it to me.’

You knew you’d be back.