#Maybe one day when I run off again on a train or something you'll come with

[blackkwidowed]

Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.

I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh

just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry

•

When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.

Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.

Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.

You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"

She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.

"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."

You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.

"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."

You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.

"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"

She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."

You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.

You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"

They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."

Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."

-

What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.

She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.

You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.

Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.

"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.

"For what, baby?"

"Being here when I need you."

You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.

"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."

Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."

You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.

She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.

"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.

You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."

You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."

[bonny-kookoo]

I totally fell in love with Princess ❤️ My heart broke when mc broke down saying she just wants to go home, poor baby must feel so lonely and exhausted 😣

I can already imagine JK being super protective of her. Like say her superior from the company (maybe a manager or something?) is super harsh with her, thinking they're in private, but JK overhears them?

Thank you for writing such wonderful stories, I'm so excited to see how the story unfolds!

I didn't know if it was a drabble request but I'm writing it anyways haha (trigger warning for: food restrictions)

"Since when do you eat those?!" Your manager scolds loudly, and Jungkook can clearly hear the man through the slightly open door. Maybe he forgot that hybrids have heightened hearing- or maybe he thought Jungkook had left the area entirely during his break.

Either way, he doesn't like that tone at all.

"Its just one.." you mumble meekly, which surprised the wolfdog hybrid a lot. Never has he heard you this.. submissive. Like you're trying to pacify the guy.

"One every day, possibly more, we both know you're lying right now!" He yells. "You've gained already, how do you think you'll lose that weight again before the competition?!" He scolds harshly. "All your measurements have to be consistent! We talked about this!" He tells you.

"I'm sorry.." you answer quietly.

"I'm taking those." Jungkook hears a plastic bag rustle. "You're only eating the food staff makes you, am I clear?"

"Yes.." you answer again, noticeably disappointed.

"I'll talk to Jeon, a few more hours of training each day will make that extra weight drop quickly-" He starts before he almost runs straight into the man he's been talking about, who's leaning against the doorframe with a more than dark expression.

"Thats mine." Jungkook nods towards the plastic bag. "I brought it for her to eat."

"She- I.. excuse me but she's on a very strict diet plan." The manager explains a lot more carefully now, voice entirely different. "She has a dietician-"

"Then that dietician will agree with me when I say that she needs a lot more food each day to have enough energy to burn." Jungkook explains, still blocking the doorway, before he holds out his hand, wordlessly.

"Thats not for you to decide." The man denies.

"Then we have no reason to continue working together." Jungkook says, making your eyes widen in the background, panicking. You don't want Jungkook to cut the contract so soon. He said he'll help you, what is he doing?

"...she better work that off until the contest." The man grumbles, pushing the bag into Jungkook's hand before he pushes himself past the wolfdog hybrid, who glares after the man. It's only when you pull on his shirt that he looks down on you, no anger left in his face.

"You didn't have to argue with him." You say. "He's.. always like that. I should've known he'd get angry."

"I don't care." Jungkook denies, walking into the small break room to sit down, slapping the seat next to him. "Now come here and eat. I didn't lie when I said I brought them for you."

"But-" you start, only reluctantly sitting down, though you can't talk more because he's already ripped off a piece of the sweet donut to stuff into your open mouth.

And while you glare at him with stuffed cheeks, he can't help but smile to himself.

You really are all bark and no bite to him.

[danieyells]

Can I see Romeo's voicelines please? He's such a failguy, I need to knowwww

How dare you call him a failguy!

he is THE failguy. don't make him sound offbrand.

i love Romeo he is honestly so ridiculous like. . .you meet Romeo in the first chapter and you do NOT realize he's going to be like. . .that. . .in the Sinostra chapter. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Hey! I'm talking to you, BB! If you've got time to wander around, you've got time to wipe the tables!"

i thoguht the pc was supposed to be doing uh background work for you at the casino. why is she cleaning tables!? go ask her to run drugs for you or something.

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Excuse me? What sane person lets their messages pile up like this!? Deal with them or I'll deal with you!"

'clean up your inbox or they will have to clean you and put you in a box'

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Fuji... Come out, come out, wherever you are... Tch, where did he go? Why is running away the only thing he's good at!?"

"Listen up—call me Fico. That's the only name I'll respond to, understand!?"

disregard the 'Lulu' from Taiga, 'Romi-sama'/'Ro-Ro' from Leo, 'RomiRomi' from Rui. . .'Fico' is for underlings, and you are an underling!

"Come to my private office later—I've got a little proposal I think you'll want to hear.  But make sure you come alone."

"Just go! I cannot deal with this WTWUT! Wall-To-Wall Useless Trash, obviously!"

that was a long acronym!

"Time to count this month's protection fees... Not bad. I'll up this group by 2% next month. This one could go a little higher too..."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Why does that DOF want to meet so early in the morning? If I get bags under my eyes because of this, I'm going to slit his throat."

we never learned what "DOF" stood for did we. we do know it's Hyde now, though!

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello? Yes, I was just eating lunch. Again?  ...Fine. Tonight? All right. Bye now."

booty call from hyde? in the middle of the day? shameless

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Have you seen Shinjo anywhere? I just asked him to organize some documents and he ran off to make copies!"

Ritsu has a line referencing this one!

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Mickey's bar? Yes, I am going again tonight, but it's only because there's nowhere else to go for a drink."

isn't there a bar in the casino. . .i guess he doesn't wanna spend time on the casino floor. also "Mickey" is Rui Mizuki, if you weren't able to figure that out haha

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This is when the regulars usually come, so I have to sweeten the pot. I saw that HNTW out there earlier too."

i hate you and your acronyms LMAOOOO I THINK THIS IS REFERRING TO KAITO??? MAYBE??? he's the only character besides Taiga who frequents the casino that we're aware of!

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"How dare those Frostheim slugs start whispering the moment they see my face... One day they'll be groveling at my feet..."

oof. . .the frostheimers are gossiping about the collapse of his family. . .yeah i'd be mad too there bud. i'd like to think he wanted to transfer to Frostheim once he became a second year and he ended up not doing it because Frostheim was just so toxic.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...Looks like I'm due for a tune up soon. Keeping my posture beautiful isn't easy, no matter how much I train my core."

i assume he sees like a chiropractor or a physical therapist or something. gets his atlas adjusted. maybe don't lean over your EITS laptops lol

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You're smelling the bedtime fragrance I bought from Kurossa earlier. He has a good eye, so I often ask him to pick things out for me."

'Kurossa' is Leo Kurosagi and his lines also reference this! I'm glad they get along so well haha I think they mesh pretty great. also the fact that Romeo gives little nicknames to people is cute. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to see my Insta? I suppose that's fine, but do you even know anything about brands?"

brand ambassador romeo. . .god he probably does all sorts of dumb beauty shit on his instagram. do you think he participates in those health pyramid schemes? probably not, right, he's fairly legitimate in his business practices. . .sort of, sometimes, kind of, as long as you don't owe him money. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Fuji's pendant? Of course I haven't given up on it. He has no idea of the value of what's hanging around his neck."

neither do we! please inform us!! but on the upside that means that Romeo knows what it is, to some degree. I assume it's some rare, powerful artifact. Kaito at least knows it's important.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have to drink a cup of room-temperature water, do an electric facial and a mask, apply body cream, do my neck routine... I have no free time in the morning."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hey! There's a hair on the ground over here! And there's dust over here! Can't you even clean something properly without me holding your hand!?"

this is directed at his underlings, not the pc(or not the pc by themself.) I also appreciate that the Japanese specifies this is one single hair he's pointing out. Somebody get this man a roomba.

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I maintain my bullets myself. You really think I'd let another man handle my crown jewels?"

handle your WHAT-- i mean anyone could've guessed you and taiga don't have a very active sex life

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"What is going on with your skin!? Do you even have a proper routine in place? Unacceptable. Your overnight skin cell turnover is suboptimal and it shows."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"That BTH...! I was almost impressed to see him out so early until I realized he's been playing all night!!"

taiga pulling an all-nighter at his own goddamn casino lmao. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What do you mean you don't need any more noni juice? I went out of my way to prepare it for you. Come on now, drink it."

he personally made it for you! now drink the bitter nasty health juice. don't make him feed it to you. (The fact that he made you a health dink--went out of his way to make it for you--shows that he's really starting to like you and now he's treating you like a pet.)

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Finally, some goods worth talking about. I have to ring that DOF and arrange the next event..."

so Hyde is an active participant in these auctions huh. . .are the secret missions he gives Romeo based on selling and distributing artifacts and anomalies in secret. . .?

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Money, hard work, and patience... That's the cost of true beauty. Don't think it's something you can easily imitate."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"How about a smoke before bed? I'm joking. If I wasn't selling it, I wouldn't be touching this unhealthy garbage."

quick someone shoop the "quieres" meme with romeo HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY TELL YOU WHAT HE'S HANDLING. . .considering his line of work it could be anything but regular cigarettes or cigars. Is it weed? is it crack?? is it meth???? i find that romeo is essentially the campus dealer hilarious.

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"What? I'm on my way to the gym for a workout. ...You can join me if you're interested."

you know damn well he probably hates getting sweaty. but he's gotta keep up with his health and all so a little workout's not off the table. also you know he's wearing some fuckin. gucci leggings or some shit.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why are you carrying that!? What if you drop it and it breaks? I'll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!"

aw he's worried about--oh no he's just worrying about you dropping his stuff.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I won't let anyone destroy what I've built— not even my OAOF."

GOD I HOPE THEY EXPLAIN THESE ACRONYMS SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I assume the first word is "Own". . .the last word could be "Family" or "Followers"/"Faction" or "Feelings". . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Most of humanity's problems can be solved with money. If you put that another way, without money, you don't stand a chance. That's the way the world works."

again, Taiga compared Ritsu's family to Romeo's before The Incident. Romeo lost everything he had at one point. He's afraid of ending up with nothing again. That's all. Even with the Casino, he doesn't want to lose it because it'd be losing everything he has again. Having no money means going back to 0.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Coming here alone this time of night, haven't you made progress? Come over here, I'll evaluate your efforts."

pc's getting brave enough to go to Sinostra in the middle of the night! probably did some shady job for him too. Also the face he makes while praising you for coming to Sinostra alone late at night is a little. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"What could you possibly be afraid of? You're one of my people! Walk with your head held high or I'll step on it!"

BBY YOU CAN STEP ON HER HEAD ANYWAY. PLEASE DO IT. 👀 also you have been opted out of being one of Taiga's people I guess. You have chosen your faction. /joke

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"This year's AW collection is out... Tch. Not even a hint of taste in any of it. They'll bear this mark of shame for years."

I KNOW THIS ACRONYM! He's complaining about Autumn-Winter fashion!!! lbr romeo men's fashion is kinda boring anyway. I wonder if his family owned a fashion brand. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind the springtime in Japan. The mild weather is a bonus, but it's the transient beauty of the cherry blossoms I truly appreciate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The new prototype is a tear bomb? A lot of anomalies don't even have eyes, is this really going to be useful?"

i mean it might be useful for the ones that have eyes. . .or for hunting down Kaito.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Shut up! It's nearly time to settle the books so I'm completely run off my feet! I don't have time to deal with you, understand!?"

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Summer is all about aquamarine... If you believe that, you're a follower. A trendsetter would know to go against the grain with a heavier jade piece."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Excuse me!? You really think I would stoop to petty theft!? This scarf and hat are UV protection!"

LMAO HE LOOKED SO SHADY THE PC GOT WORRIED

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This? It's an original hot water blend with salt and lemon I came up with. You shouldn't be cooling your insides just because it's hot outside!"

i mean. i guess it'll technically help you sweat and cool down faster????

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The heat's finally starting to ease off. I want to take a shower, but it's nearly our peak hour..."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They gave us nothing but useless bottom feeders this year... I'd like to see who raised this bunch of idiots. They don't even have a grasp of basic etiquette."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to the training grounds to demonstrate sharpshooting for the first- years. It's a waste of my time, but I'm the most skilled at it."

he just wants everyone to see how good he is lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The SS collections are out. What? Are you telling me you don't pay attention to Paris Fashion Week?"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The boss won't stop whining about being hungry. Obviously I'm not going to cook. What are you all standing around for, you damn TGAs!?"

lol Romeo has his underlings feed Taiga as much as Taiga demands food of his own underlings. "please feed your father the boss before he eats one of the chancellor's cats again."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You look like a fat slug in those clothes. Keeping warm is important, but couldn't you at least tough it out when you're meeting me!?"

HARSH. how about you get her outfits then!!! lolol he's looking at you all bundled up and doesn't even wanna be seen with you

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Everywhere is so dry, it's unbearable. I want to go back to my room and moisturize..."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I get aches when it's cold... I'm taking off early tonight to go drink, then I'll warm up with a low bath."

'i'm gonna put alcohol in me which will make me feel warm but actually make me colder, then get in the bath for a while' lol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Tch... This is the most profitable time of year for us, where the hell is that BTH!?

well you see Taiga hates the cold too so he's probably in a blanket burrito. . . .

His birthday: (November 14th)

"Today is Fico's birthday, so you're dining in style. I'm not going to eat any though, so you can finish it off."

'it's my birthday, so i'm going to treat you! what? me? eat?? no, i'm on a diet!!' i am once again asking the ghouls to EAT PROPER MEALS PLEASE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY ROMEO HAVE ONE CHEAT DAY. DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BE CAKE.

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday? I suppose I can celebrate it for you, but you'd better be aware of how much of my precious time you're using."

he treats you better on his birthday than yours. . . .

New Years: (January 1st)

"Felice anno nuovo! This will be the year I claim Fuji's debt and his pendant!"

oh my god he does speak italian. you hear more tidbits of italian fromTaiga than him. also Kaito's pendant must be super important if that's his new years resolution. this is gonna matter in the long run isn't it.

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Hmph. I'm not familiar with this packaging. If you're giving me chocolate, you better have selected it with the utmost care!"

'this is not brand name. how dare you.'

White Day: (March 13th)

"Here. They're mimosa cookies, a special order from an upmarket confectionary in Ginza. I can't say whether your peasant tastebuds can appreciate them though."

peasant? who are you, jin? fun fact, Taiga's White Day line references this one!

"What's that expectant look on your face? Lulu was harping on about mimosas or something before. That what you want?"

so Romeo gets the cookies whether or not he plans to give you some i guess lol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Just you try and fool me—I'll tear those rags off you and throw you in a cage. So? What do you want?"

converting your friends into human trafficking victims is the latest new prank sweeping the internet!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Do you have face paint in your pores!? Go wash it off before you end up with hyperpigmentation!!"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Buon Natale! Go get ready—that reindeer's around again. This year I'm going to catch it for sure!!"

he's going to auction off one of santa's reindeer. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Tch... If you don't have any business for me, I'm leaving! You're wasting my precious time!"

(13 affinity and above)

"My drink is empty. Hey! I'm talking to you! Go bring me a refill!"

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Do I have to teach you how to maintain an adult relationship? This is your last chance, got it!?"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE ADHD KICKED IN AND I GOT SUPER DISTRACTED i love Romeo so much he's so. . .silly lmao. he's a very fun character. even though i hate his acronyms. But he's also so worried about his image and his money. . .and as much as he complains I think he worries about Taiga too. And as he comes to like you more he worries about you too. It's just that strictness and maintaining control is how he feels most comfortable and how he expresses his attachments. He trusts you. So he wants you to be able to hold you to a high standard.

[silverynight]

Benefits and privileges

When Tanjirou wakes up, the mist hashira is in his room again. It's early in the morning so he knows Nezuko is back in her box.

He moves in order to sit on the ground and notices the way Tokito is staring at him, although Tanjirou has gotten used to his personality in the past days.

"Hi, Tokito-san!" He grins. "Do you want to have breakfast with me?"

The mist hashira nods, but this time he rises from the floor, opens the door and gives instructions to someone in the hallway.

Tanjirou is a little bit curious and he's about to ask what's going on when someone gets inside with a LOT of food. Everything looks absolutely delicious.

At first he thinks perhaps Tokito is like the love hashira and has a huge appetite, but the man puts almost all the food on Tanjirou's side of the table.

"Thanks!" Good thing he's really hungry that morning. Although they have never served him that amount of food. Actually, everything looks even more delicious than the other day.

As soon as they leave them alone, Tokito gets closer to him.

"You're a very low rank in the Corps," that's the first thing he says to Tanjirou, making the redhead nod in embarrassment.

"I know," he mumbles. "But I'll train everyday to–"

"You could rank up faster, you know?"

"Really?" Tanjirou turns his head to look at him, already invested in whatever he's going to say. Maybe Tokito wants to share a training technique with him?

The mist hashira smiles back at him; he has a fond expression on his face.

"Absolutely. You just have to marry a hashira."

Tanjirou knows Tokito doesn't joke so he doesn't laugh, but he does blush and smiles nervously back at him. It's obvious he has no idea that's pretty much impossible for him, he's not... He knows no one is interested in him, at least in that way.

"Thanks for the advice, but–"

"Listen, Tanjirou," Tokito cuts him off, getting even closer. "There are a lot of benefits that come with being one of the Pillars' husband. You'll receive the same training as a tsuguko, all the kakushi and other slayers have to treat you the same way they treat a hashira, you'll get better food, better equipment... You'll get the best swordsmiths. Your sister will be welcome anywhere..."

"That sounds really great," Tanjirou cuts him off, knowing his face is still red. "But I don't think they want to marry me. Although I thank you for–"

"I'll marry you," Tokito offers, eyes glimmering with excitement. It's weird to see him showing any kind of emotion, but in a good way.

Tanjirou scratches his cheek nervously; his face feels like is burning still.

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do that for me."

"I want to," Tokito says immediately, getting a little bit desperate. He grabs Tanjirou's hands with his. "You can be my husband."

Wow. Tokito sure is a good person and a good friend; offering him to do that just to help Tanjirou. The redhead is very touched by his gesture.

"I honestly don't want to ruin your chances with another per–"

"I make more money than you!" The mist hashira says suddenly. "I know that's something that people like... I've heard it before..."

"Yeah, but I'm not–"

"Nezuko can have anything she wants!" Tokito insists, pulling Tanjirou into a hug and nuzzling against his cheek. "I'll tell them to prepare a special room for her in my estate. She'll be safe there."

That's honestly very tempting. Tanjirou looks back at the wooden box in the room and imagines her running around happily in a place that no one can hurt her.

Blushing, Tanjirou hopes he's not taking advantage of Tokito's friendship when he says: "Maybe a cute kimono for her? She always wanted one."

"Anything."

If the mist hashira is willing to do that for him, then the least Tanjirou can do is to make him happy or try to.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." He replies without hesitation.

"Okay, let's get married then!"

The smile on Tokito's face is so wide, but he looks good when he's happy. He leans to kiss Tanjirou's face before pressing his lips against the redhead's quickly.

"I'll let Oyakata-sama know."

Alright... It seems he's getting married soon.

***

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[steddieas-shegoes]

an army of bees

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'magic au' rated m wc: 912 cw: off-screen violence, implied sexual content tags: medieval magic, warlock eddie, apprentice steve, established relationship, secret relationship

🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄

"It shouldn't be bubbling like that," Eddie commented, watching as Steve tried to get the protection potion right for the fourth time in as many days.

"I know it shouldn't!" His frustration was getting the better of him, something he desperately needed to learn to control.

Their magic was touchy, and strong emotions could turn a love potion into the potion of death when brewed under the wrong conditions.

"I know you know, but-"

Eddie was cut off by yelling in the hall outside their apothecary and potion room.

Steve looked up at him, eyes wide as they both overheard the words 'siege' and 'charging.'

As members of the staff of the castle, they'd been trained in emergency procedures for the castle being attacked. But as members of the lowest level staff, they did not get trained in defense or weaponry, and if caught, would most likely not be able to protect themselves beyond what they've learned on their own.

Which for Eddie was next to nothing, and for Steve, was maybe enough to escape one person, but certainly not a group.

Eddie's arms were around him immediately, tugging him against his chest as if that could protect them both from the chaos building outside.

More voices yelling.

Footsteps running up the stone steps.

Silence.

Eddie reached over to put out the small fire under the cauldron, plunging the room in almost complete darkness save for one candle burning by the door.

He pulled Steve to the couch in the corner, letting him rest against his side as he listened for any sign of people coming back down the stairs.

They weren't quite in the dungeons, but they were under most of the castle, and rarely visited by anyone without a purpose.

Many people didn't even know this room existed unless they needed Eddie's services.

They especially didn't know about the attached bedroom where he and Steve pushed their bedrolls together in front of the fireplace every night.

They could hide there if they heard any voices make their way back down to them.

Eddie felt Steve shaking against him, his breathing quiet but coming in fast pants.

"My love, I promise we'll be safe. I will always keep you safe," Eddie whispered against his temple.

"I know," Steve whispered back.

"Why don't you get our beds together so we can stay hidden?" Eddie suggested.

Steve hesitated, but agreed, slowly making his way to the trap door under the rug by the back wall.

At the last minute, he turned back to Eddie.

"You'll be right in?"

"Of course, dearest. Just need to put out the candle and ensure the door is locked."

Steve nodded once and walked down the steps leading to their room.

Eddie quickly locked the door, muttering the incantations he knew would protect them both most under his breath. He blew out the candle, leaving total darkness in the room.

It already felt colder, uninhabited.

Good.

He continued to mutter under his breath as he made his way through the trap door, covering it behind him with a swish of his hand.

Steve was already curled up on Eddie's straw mattress, a blanket covering most of his body and face.

"We'll be safe. No one will find us and I've charmed the doors so people won't see us if they do find the room," Eddie said.

It was some of his more complex spells, something that drained him physically, but was worth it to see the way Steve relaxed against the bedroll.

"How will we know it's safe again?"

"I'll check in a few hours' time. For now, let's not think about it."

"And how do you suppose we ignore what's happening?" Steve asked, knowing smirk evident in his tone.

"I can think of a few things," Eddie settled behind him on the mattress, curling around his back and pressing his lips to his shoulder. "Why don't you tell me the process for the protection potion?"

"Now? Eddie, I wish to be distracted, not frustrated."

Eddie's teeth nipped the skin of his shoulder blade.

"I wish to be the one distracting you, but no one said I couldn't find better ways to teach you," Eddie said against his skin.

Steve took the hint, starting to recite the process as Eddie's lips left bite marks and his tongue left love behind.

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

When they left the safety of their room, and slowly walked up the stone steps, they expected to find chaos.

What was left was a destruction, bodies littering the ground.

But when they looked up, they saw the head guard, James, collecting weapons.

"Where have you two been?" He asked when he noticed them.

"We've been keeping ourselves safe. I don't recognize these men," Eddie said as he looked from face to bloody face.

"They attempted to kill the Queen. Only a few of our men were lost and the Queen is being kept safe in her home by the sea for now. I assume you had something to do with the sudden wave of bees attacking?" He raised a questioning brow at Eddie.

Eddie shook his head.

Steve let out a gasp.

Eddie turned to see him covering his face.

"Steve?"

"I didn't think it would work!"

"It was the distraction our men needed to take the upper hand. We are grateful for your contribution," James bowed his head.

Eddie beamed at him proudly.

Who needed a protection potion when one could summon an army of bees?

[1d1195]

Protection IV

Read Protection here.

Lots of angst this chapter. More unaware pining for one another. 6.5k words.

Objectively, she was beautiful like a rose and smelled pretty like one too. It didn’t seem like a bad thing to be nicknamed after one but she looked as if he just called her the c-word.

Niall had been working for DSS for a year shorter than she had a security detail. When he arrived at his desk job, he was assured that The US Secretary of State’s daughter would never come to the office. As far as everyone knew, she had no idea where it was. Moreover, she hated everything that this office stood for so why would she ever set foot in it?

However, the second her hand touched the building door. Niall swore he knew. Everyone knew. The air got colder the room darker. If it were the 1600s, someone would have cried witch.

Niall really only knew because this twenty-something girl walked through the door, running pants, a long sleeve athletic shirt, a sporty headband wrapped around her forehead to keep the sweat from beading off her face. She wasn’t a smidge breathless as she walked to the front desk. Niall happened to be on his way out to his lunch break but again, was stopped the moment he saw her enter.

“Uh, hello,” there was a new secretary behind the main desk. This wasn’t really a drop-in service kind of business—especially for someone like the young woman who clearly just popped in during the middle of her run.

She was pleasant, anyway, to the woman. The poor thing had no idea she was talking to the daughter of the top person this bureau serviced. Niall peered around the half-wall like the scaredy cat he was, unable to look away for even a moment but too scared to pass by her for the door.

Harry had the day off—that must have been why she was here now. He probably had no idea she was here. Harry often took shift after shift keeping an eye on her, telling his relief was unnecessary. Sometimes he would work 24-hour shifts just to keep the department happy and of course no one minded missing their time spent with her.

Although 24-hour shifts hadn’t really happened since her terrible night out just over a week and a half ago.

Normally, they would have fired Harry. They had no choice but to send his supervisor out to her—while Harry was trapped here, relaying the story, and explaining the paperwork that he had written—but she was insistent that she wanted Harry to stay. In fact, Niall read the notes from the meeting and she said, "he saved me from something terrible and if you fire him and put someone new, you'll regret it."

Niall felt at the time it was a good idea to pat himself on the back. She liked Harry. That was a good thing. That was what DSS wanted. Someone that she wouldn’t fight with as much. Someone she wouldn’t run away from. Harry was his closest friend as well, and so, when it came time to find another new security member for her, who better to recommend than Harry?

Harry never seemed to mind her antics. Harry’s family, like Niall’s, was back across the Atlantic Ocean. Most of Harry’s friends lived throughout the country apart from Niall. Niall, who also liked his job, was often chained to his own desk and work so even when Harry did have a day off, it didn’t always mean he could hang out with Niall.

So why not hang out with her? She just sleeps and studies. Harry had told him when Niall inquired why he would take so many overlapping shifts. Didn’t he need sleep? Didn’t he need space from her?

“Hi,” she chirped to the poor woman who was surprised this cute, twenty-something young woman. It was like a train wreck. Niall should have alerted someone, maybe even Harry, but he couldn’t look away. Definitely couldn’t spare a glance to text Harry about it. “I was wondering if I could speak to the supervisor in charge of Mr. Secretary’s security detail?” She was all eyelashes, adorable. It had been ages since he’d seen her in person—at the time she had just graduated high school--she still seemed so girlish when Niall was fresh out of college, finding his way around the office he stood in now. Now she was this beautiful young woman.

No wonder Harry doesn’t mind seeing her all day long. She’s easy on the eyes.

At that moment, one of their agents burst through the door behind her, out of breath. Hands on his knees as he gasped for air the secretary looked at the girl who didn’t even bother with her attention toward the man behind her. “Uh...I...I’m sorry, Miss. That’s private information you’re looking for. And he doesn’t really take visitors.”

“I understand, ma’am. However, my dad is Mr. Secretary, so I feel like he’ll make an exception for me.”

Oh, this poor woman was going to have a heart attack. She grabbed her office phone immediately and quietly, but terrified, explained the situation.

Calmly, she stood by the door looking at the different plaques and pictures. Niall’s phone vibrated with a message from Harry. Do you want to go to the pub or something to watch the game? Drink some? Niall went to answer but got the feeling he was being watched. He looked up to see the girl staring back at him. His breath caught in his throat, like he was caught in a horror movie and the monster just saw him. “Hi, Niall,” she smiled brightly with a wave.

What the fuck?

The agent behind her was still gasping for breath but looking at Niall like he had betrayed the entirety of DSS. The secretary was shocked at the sight of Niall as well. “Uh...hi, darling,” he answered awkwardly. “How’s your day?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Just thought I’d go for a jog.”

“A sprint,” the agent grumbled. Niall could see why Harry thought she was funny. “Lost her by the park. Why are we here?”

“I just want to ask a question,” she said with a simple shrug. The poor, anxious woman was shaking as she brought her a glass of water (and one for the agent who clearly needed to hit the gym if he was going to chase after this girl). “Thank you,” she smiled kindly.

For years Niall heard nothing but scary stories of her and her behavior. Harry told him nothing but funny and cute stories of her well-decorated apartment and their movie marathon. There was no way the two entities were the same girl.

Niall knew her of course. He wanted to know how she knew him because Harry didn’t seem like the type to spill personal information like that. “I asked Harry if he had any friends. He mentioned just you, said you worked in the office of this horrible place. So I found you on Harry’s Linkedin profile and then compared you to a picture I found on his social media. Like I told Harry, you should change your last name to your middle name so it’s harder to find you,” she shrugged.

He opened his mouth to speak but the supervisor came flying out of the other room. “Hi, what—”

“What the fuck did you say to him?” She snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

Oh, Niall loved her. A live show to her two personalities—the nice one that Harry raved about and grumpy one that he only ever heard about at work. Harry’s supervisor looked downright nervous. It never ceased to amaze Niall how this young woman could scare the life out of grown men.

“To who?” He shook his head in confusion. The poor secretary stared at her desk unable to look at anyone. Niall felt for her. He should have returned to his desk, but he was frozen in place watching her.

“Harry, obviously. You guys finally get a decent person in charge of my security. Someone I can actually tolerate and then you yell at him for something that wasn’t even his fault? We actually had a pretty decent thing going. I was just coming around to the idea of sending you guys actual Christmas cards instead of glitter cards,” she rolled her eyes. Each year several people (it was like magic how she knew which few to select) in the office received a card from her. It was always a different return address--never her own. Always looked like one of those a holiday business coupon cards. For some service in the area, and each year they were tricked. Left covered in glitter and with a printed card that said Happy Holidays, but the L was a middle finger emoji.

They fell for it every single year.

“Miss,” he said calmly. “If I can—”

“Are you going to fire Harry?” She interrupted angrily.

“Do you...want someone else?” He asked immediately.

Niall thought she would strangle him if she could. She closed her eyes so tightly, he worried her eyelids might snap. At once she flashed them open. “No, I don’t. But you told him something after that night. You made him all weird,” she frowned. Her voice took on this new tone. One that Niall didn't know she possessed. It was almost...awe-struck. “He barely talks to me," she sounded...upset.

“Surely that’s a good thing,” the agent muttered behind her.

She ignored him but Niall could see she was even angrier at the notion. “Do you know that 6-8% of men and women have reported having their drink spiked at least once in college? It wasn’t Harry’s fault," Niall felt a certain amount of gratitude for her, knowing that she was trying to defend one of his best friends. Even if he was still terrified of her. He could hear the anguish in her voice. It was like she was pleading a case. Hoping that the man in front of her understood how much he had hurt Harry and she didn't care for that at all.

He pressed his lips together. “Why did you come here, Miss?” He asked gently.

“If you fire him or he quits I’m going to do way worse than glitter,” she promised and turned right back out the door. “You always blame me for everything. Always! The one time it was my fault I’m suddenly the one in the right? You’re all infuriating. Enjoy the paperwork,” she grumbled turning out the door sharply. Niall believed the door didn't slam solely because it couldn't. If it could have slammed shut, he definitely believed she would have.

The agent followed after her, still struggling a bit with his breathing. But the moment she left, he swore the room got warmer, the light a little brighter. There was palpable relief in the air. “That girl is terrifying."

Niall couldn’t wait to tell Harry about it.

*

“Do you have a codename for me?” She asked. They swapped out their normal rom-com for a more dramatic-action movie. It caught her eye because it involved a security detail for a political official. She gave Harry a knowing smile and he rolled his eyes with a shrug. “Whatever y’want love.”

It was dramatized beyond belief, of course. Especially when she considered how she was probably one of the most boring people to keep watch over. Given they were literally watching a movie together. Other than her short hospital stay that is. Since then, she was keeping a low-profile. Just as she had thought, her “friends” didn’t really seem to care. But even with her beliefs confirmed, she kind of preferred these quiet moments with Harry. Especially after her talk with DSS.

While they watched, her gaze drifted over to Harry every so often. She enjoyed the way he rolled his eyes at any scene that broke his precious protocol. Harry thought it was funny how they always had secret codenames to describe the person they were keeping watch over. Especially since it was public knowledge.

It seemed she and Harry were on the same wavelength. Hence, her inquiry.

“Uh...The Department calls y’Rose sometimes, but m’not too sure why.” he shrugged. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He had no idea why, but he hated the way she frowned immediately. She looked at her lap, twiddling her thumbs together silently. Harry could see the vulnerability plain on her face. It seemed like she stopped breathing. It appeared he wasn’t going to get a follow up either—at least not voluntarily. He paused the movie to turn toward her fully on the other couch. “S’matter, love?” He hoped his voice was equally gentle, not too pressing. Despite her low-key couple of weeks, Harry was still wary of anything that might set her off. She was agitated still—rightfully so—but he was grateful she was merely agitated with his constant worry. Part of him believed she was maybe even a little fond of it.

She was silent a moment longer. “They still call me that?” She asked so quietly, Harry had to strain to hear her voice.

He didn’t know why they called her Rose. He thought it was pretty. It reminded him of Titanic, one of his favorite movies he used to watch with Gemma growing up. Objectively (but also very much subjectively on Harry's part), she was beautiful like a rose and smelled pretty like one too. It didn’t seem like a bad thing to be nicknamed after one but she looked as if he just called her the c-word. “What do y’mean?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “They started calling me Rose because they said I looked so pretty on the outside...so it distracted people from all the thorns and injuries I cause.”

Harry didn’t like that one bit. He thought a federal agency should also have a bit more class than that—especially if she found out about it.

“I know I’m annoying, but they really just don’t like me,” she explained. “They protect me out of courtesy and obligation. I’m hoping I can make them sick enough that they’ll just leave me alone.”

Harry tilted his head at her. She was annoying at best. She escaped a lot. Required endless paperwork to be done. But she was 24 and as far as he knew, no one had given her an ounce of grace or privacy regarding her role as the Secretary’s daughter. Especially in the last seven years in her role.

“I never wanted the detail. My dad was insistent. Especially after my mom,” she murmured.

She never really talked about her mom. There were no pictures of her on social media and not a lot by way of Google searches. “Where is your mum?” Harry asked.

She looked at him with her more regular, usual, irritated expression. “Seriously?”

He glanced at her in confusion. “Uh...yeah.” She stared at Harry, still irritated for a few quiet seconds. It occurred to her after Harry didn't respond or break the silence that he was in fact serious. She was surprised he didn't know.

Her expression changed from irritation to this wistful, forlorn one. “She died...well...personally, I think she was assassinated but apparently since she’s not a politician it doesn’t count. And of course no one believes me nor asks for my opinion.”

Harry blinked. He thought about his own mother. One of his best friends. The person that texted him without fail every time he felt anxious about an important meeting or the first day on a new job. The one support system in his life that would say honey bun, it’ll work out, no matter how bleak the future seemed in that moment. When there was a girl, Harry told his mum before anyone. If he was feeling poorly, mum gave him a soup recipe that was sure to cure him.

She didn’t have that.

That was a tragedy.

Clearly, she didn’t get along with her dad. He wondered if he would get more insight on that if he could maintain this kind of relationship with her. Harry found all her anger and her attitude suddenly tolerable. No wonder she was so...her. The poor thing.

“Christ, love. M’sorry.”

She shrugged. “S’whatever.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He was speechless. How do you console someone over something like that? Harry had more questions. Did they wipe it from the internet? Was it traumatizing beyond what was expected of something like that?

Was she there when it happened?

After another moment of silence, she pressed play on the movie. Neither of them spoke for a minute but Harry couldn’t bring himself to focus on the movie. When she began speaking once more, she didn’t pause the movie again. But she broke Harry’s heart. “Sometimes I think they wished I died instead of my mom.”

Again, he was so overwhelmed with worry for her mental well-being he didn’t really know what to say. He certainly didn’t think he could try and console her. Moreover, he didn’t think he would say the right thing. Still...Harry felt compelled to speak. “M’sorry they call you Rose, love.” She didn’t acknowledge him. Kept her eyes on the screen. “Think you’re much more of a Wildflower,” he mumbled under his breath.

That got her attention. She turned away to look at Harry, her eyebrows pinched together the way he worried would cause her a headache. Her lips pursed into a scowl. “Is that a joke at my expense? Seriously?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, fuck,” God, Harry sucked with words sometimes. He felt his cheeks warm a bit in embarrassment that she was acknowledging his words—and more so misinterpreting them. “Sure...they’ve got this ‘wild’ side. But...s’because they grow anywhere. They’re strong,” he shrugged. “They’re bright too...light up the side of the road even if the road isn’t pretty...they don’t need a lot of...care from others. But they’re gentle anyway. Even when s’hard t’be growing under difficult circumstances,” he was kind of rambling.

She really liked what he was rambling about. Warmth spread through her body as he explained himself; there was a sure flutter in her heart that shouldn’t have been there. Harry was being much too kind. Especially when she already tried escaping at least a half dozen times when he was present. Even when she knew she was being a miserable brat each time she did it.

He thought she was strong and gentle.

Of course, the most Neanderthalic part of her girl brain pointed at an invisible neon sign flashing with the words that Harry (someone who was so objectively hot, she would have killed anyone in her path to throw herself at him if he wasn’t in charge of her security detail. If he was just a regular guy she met on the street) thought she was pretty.

“Oh,” she said looking back at her lap once more. “That’s...” she cleared her throat awkwardly. She swallowed, feeling tears fill her eyes. That was by far the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her. Especially since she started needing a security detail. Especially from someone on her security detail. “Thank you,” she rolled her lips into her mouth looking at the opposite wall. She refused to cry because of Harry. And if she was going to cry it was not going to be in front of him. All because he said a few nice things about her comparing her to wildflowers.

Flowers that were obviously pretty—and Harry knew flowers more than any man she had ever spoken to. His comparison of the flower was strong but still gentle...?

Fuck. She couldn’t not cry.

“Are y’alright?” He asked wearily while she had this battle with her sympathetic-nervous system to keep from crying.

“Yeah...” she said and got up from the couch marching down the hall to the bathroom. She turned on the sink and let out a choked sob as she covered her mouth. It had been ages since someone said kind things like that about her...maybe since her mother passed away.

There was a knock on the door only moments after. “Y’okay, love?” Harry asked.

She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. Trying to keep the tears at bay she squashed the emotion from bubbling in her throat, “Yeah...” unsuccessfully as her voice broke. “Just my mom,” she lied.

She couldn’t see him, but Harry felt like an ass making her upset. Then he felt madder that DSS made her upset. He was going to tell Niall to get everyone to stop calling her Rose immediately. He pressed his head against his arm, leaning on the frame of the bathroom door. “Y’sure?” He asked. If she wasn’t someone he was responsible for keeping watch over, he would have strongly considered yanking the door off the hinges and holding her until she stopped crying. Maybe get her a chocolate bar—the kind she always grabbed at the checkout line.

“Can you just go away?” She snapped.

Harry sighed. It always felt like one step forward and five steps back with her. “Yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled and retreated back to the sitting room.

For her benefit, he pretended he couldn’t hear her crying. Even though it hurt him almost as badly as when he was feeding her peanut butter toast.

*

She had been grumbling for ten minutes. Scribbling interrupted by moments of typing furiously. When she studied, Harry was used to the way her method took up the entirety of the sitting area—nearly both couches, the coffee table, and the floor in between. She sat on the ground, not the sofa. If he weren’t scared of her when she studied—the only time he thought that she was truly scary unlike the rest of DSS because she took studying so seriously—he would tell her it looked like she was having a séance and asking for some biochemist of the past to help her.

But whatever she was doing tonight finally came to a head. When she threw her notebook across the room. Harry had paid almost no mind to her grumbles and quiet curses under her breath up until then. He looked up from his computer with a smirk.

He was running the latest background check on the boy that had asked her on a date—Harry did not approve but it wasn’t his place to judge. The guy was too childlike and didn’t even ask her what her favorite food was and insisted they go to a local seafood place even though she hated seafood. She thought she was being stealthy, but he overheard her telling one of her girlfriends about the date he had planned for her.

His gaze returned to his screen. “Your poor notebook,” he mumbled quietly acknowledging she was upset but so as not to piss her off. She wasn’t doing it for Harry’s attention—again, he knew better than to mess with her study techniques.

“I’m not in the mood, Harry,” apparently, he was still messing with her method. “They save this class for last just so they can withhold degrees, I swear.”

“Love, you’re probably the smartest person I know,” he shook his head. “You’re gonna do well no matter what,” he shrugged simply. He truly believed that.

She ignored his compliment. She didn’t like the way it made her stomach flip—especially after the whole Wildflower discussion. “My brain is fried, and I have an exam first thing in the morning...and it’s just...” She sighed. “It’s so hard sometimes,” she mumbled.

Harry looked back up at her and tilted his head. “What’s hard?”

She glanced at Harry and then looked at her fingers like they were trying to tell her something. Harry didn’t press further. If she wanted to chat, she would. Without speaking, she went to fetch her notebook heaped at the wall and returned to her seat on the floor by the coffee table. Harry assumed she wasn’t going to talk to him about it. That was fine, he went back to his computer.

It was silent for a few moments other than Harry’s quiet tapping on the keyboard in front of him. But she didn’t move, no more scribbling or typing on her end. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke again.

“No one...” she took a deep breath, shaking her head and then tried again. “I’m just my dad’s daughter,” she told him. “No one ever wants to hang out with me because I’m always under a microscope. It’s why I go out and do stupid things because it’s the only time I feel normal. I know it’s not good for me...I mean look at what happened a few weeks ago. People only want an in with Mr. Secretary,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Or...they want money...money that I don’t even want because I don’t think it’s fair or right that everyone around me works so hard...and struggles to pay for things,” Harry thought she might be the kindest soul he knew. Even when she was a pain in his butt.

“Do you know I picked this school because it was the cheapest in the city? I worked so hard for every scholarship I could get in high school, and I still took out a few student loans even though my dad told me it made him look cheap not paying for me. I’ve always paid my aunt the cheapest rent she was willing to bill me. She was going to just have me keep an eye on this apartment that she doesn’t even use. But I don’t want people to think I’m the spoiled brat that everyone believes I am. I found an online transcriber job because no one in their right mind would hire me for an in-person job. Someone that always has a full detail of security around her. I work almost thirty hours a week doing it in between class and studying. I know I’m extremely lucky and fortunate. But I don’t take anything from him. I don’t want it. People don’t see that though. I’m just the daughter of the US Secretary of State. In their eyes, my path was paved before me even though I was the one that built it for myself.”

Harry frowned. He never thought about what it must be like to be the child of a top political official. He wondered why she was always going out and trying to escape. It didn’t make sense with her brilliant mind and her hidden, but still somehow sunny disposition.

Despite all the horror stories, this was his favorite version of her. The real her. The one that told Harry things and made herself a bit vulnerable. The empathy he felt for her in that moment was overwhelming. She was seated back on the couch looking over flashcards. Her brow pinched together the way he hated.

“I know everyone told you I was a brat. I know I’m a brat a lot of the time. I don’t mean to be,” her voice cracked a little on the words and Harry watched as the background check on the boy came back clean. Nothing of note. Harry scoured his social media profiles and other than a bit of college binge drinking, he didn’t find anything scary enough to dissuade her from seeing him other than his personal belief that he was a terrible option. “I’m sorry I give you a hard time. I don’t mean to. I’m just...very lonely. Everyone in this class had a person to help them study except me. Because no one wanted to be associated with me.”

Harry closed his computer. Maybe it was a bad idea. But maybe her rant was her way of getting Harry to feel sorry for her so he wouldn’t realize when she was making a run for it again. This reprieve of going out each weekend couldn’t last forever. This date was proof of it. For the last few weeks, he had been enjoying the painless following her; while she ran errands, watched movies, or he spent the time listening to her clean, watching her study, and work around her apartment. However, his mum would be ashamed of him for not trying to care for the poor thing when she was all upset. Slowly he made his way over to the couch with the least amount of study materials on it. “Tell me ‘bout what you’re learning, then,” he shrugged and sat on the sofa.

She stared at him. “You can’t seriously want to help me study.”

“M’not doing anything but sitting there. May s’well make some use of me. Maybe you’ll teach me something.”

There was a pause. She gnawed on her lip nervously. “Yeah?”

He took the flash cards from her hands. The electric currents he felt as her fingers brushed his was overwhelming. He took a moment to steady his breathing (and his heart) as he admired her pretty neat handwriting. He smiled as he read over the words. “I don’t even know how t’pronounce this, love, s’like gibberish. Maybe I won’t be much help,” he remarked. "What is this? Halloween-genisis-candy canes?"

She giggled and looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Harry," she said releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

“Of course, love.”

"And it's Hallogenalkanes."

*

She didn’t notice when Harry fell asleep because they had taken a break from him quizzing her so she could reread the study guide once more. It wasn’t until the flash cards fell from his hands that she realized it was well past midnight. She smirked at him snoring quietly. He was pretty cute when he slept...and wasn’t constantly on her about what was correct protocol. She grabbed the cards into a messy pile and placed them on the coffee table. Careful not to wake him, she quietly collected all her study materials and added them to the haphazard pile on the coffee table as well. Gently, she threw a blanket over top of him, and she swore she could see him sigh, face smushed against the back cushion.

She should have gone to sleep in her bed for the mere few hours she would get her mind to settle before waking up for her exam. Sleeping in her bed would be better for her brain. But despite everything, Harry helped her. Really helped her.

Plus, if she went into her room, she could only imagine all the noise Harry would make in the middle of her REM cycle in the few short hours she had once he realized he had fallen asleep. She imagined he’d attempt to rip every door off its hinges before he concluded that she was just asleep in bed.

Instead, she scribbled a note to leave on the bathroom door for him, brushed her teeth, then grabbed a pillow and another blanket off her bed. Returning to the free couch, she made herself comfy; sure to be in full view of Harry so when he opened his eyes, she would be the first thing he saw.

When he did wake up later—completely broken that he fell asleep because it’s so unprofessional and so not protocol he could scream—he was immediately relieved to see her beautiful, sleepy face facing him on the other sofa. He rubbed a hand over his face, irritated with himself. But this is his other favorite version of her. The gentle, worriless, pretty girl he can’t help but start to really like.

Realizing that protocol was next to impossible with this girl, he had one little back and forth silent argument with himself deciding if he should leave her be or take her to her room. But she had an exam in the morning, and she deserved a comfy bed. It had been weeks since he had to hold her, cradled in his arms, and it felt so effortless now. He tried not to think about how nice it felt, especially now that there was no danger. In her sleep, she nuzzled her face against his chest, and he definitely felt a pang of...well that emotion was definitely not protocol.

He brought her to her room, carefully laid her on her bed and covered her with plenty of blankets because he definitely wasn’t going to be trying to wrangle the sheets and duvet around her. He felt an absurd amount of adoration as he tucked her in and he tried to shove it as deeply as possible into his chest.

Once her door was closed, he turned and found the note taped to the bathroom door. It wasn’t as neatly written as her flash cards, but somehow, he found this handwriting even more beautiful. It was loopy—not quite printed, not quite script. Harry had watched her doodle and scribble a lot over the last few months. He knew that she ended a lot of her doodles with little hearts, she signed birthday cards to her friends with a little heart at the end of her name every time. But he found the little heart at the end of her note to him the most precious thing in the world.

Thank you for the help studying. I won’t tell anyone you fell asleep. Don’t worry, I managed to brush my teeth without any kidnapping nor dying. I hope you sleep well.

Harry--becoming fully aware of what was happening to his heart and why but couldn't be bothered to stop it anyway--smirked, felt the dire need to call his mum about her, and put the note in his wallet.

*

She had completed her exam and looked terribly exhausted. Harry typically followed about five steps behind her. He found she usually liked to grumble to herself about whatever she forgot in class or if there was an issue with the exam itself. But today she was quiet and after a few steps outside the flow of traffic of most others she turned to wait for Harry to catch up. “Coffee?” He asked. She shook her head and continued in stride with his steps. She didn’t speak. Just walked alongside him.

Fortunately, it was getting cooler, so her leggings and long sleeve sweater were no longer out of place. Harry, however, looked like a spy, forget agent. He wore black dress pants and a crisp white button down and black tie that she could see due to his open black leather jacket. She wanted to ask if he had a date after he got done here because he looked really good.

But that made her think about Harry dating, and she felt so jealous she thought she might gag at the idea and trying to ask him. “Y’okay, love?” He asked gently opening the passenger door.

“Hmm?”

“Y’kinda...squeaked? I don’t know.”

Shit. “M’tired,” she mumbled not looking at him as he went around to the driver’s side. “You look nice,” she continued staring out the window. “You have a date or something?” She smirked unable to contain her curiosity.

Harry had this laugh that made her insides turn to mush. His laugh didn’t go on and on for ages, but the first few notes of it were like the melody to her favorite song. He didn’t let it out all the often. His “movie” laugh, as she liked to call it, was much more subdued and frequent.

But right now she got his real laugh, her favorite song. Even when it shouldn't have been. “I don’t really have time t’date all that much. I do have a meeting this afternoon t'discuss...your dad coming next week.”

She bristled at the idea of her dad coming to town. She couldn’t decide if she would rather he didn’t come at all. But it was Thanksgiving and he had facades to display and people to impress that he and his only daughter had a happy life even though they suffered such terrible tragedies. “Oh,” she was quiet a minute. Harry stopped at the coffee shop drive thru despite her protest because he knew she had work when she got home and her left eye was drooping more than the right. She was grateful for that because her original intention was to go home and sleep for an hour, but Harry seemed to know what she wanted better. “Why do you have to be there? Aren’t you just mine?”

Shit, shit, shit. That was not how she should have said it.

Harry smirked, ordered his and her usual, leaving her in agony as she thought about the prospect of Harry being hers and what his reaction was regarding this information she blurted out awkwardly. She didn’t want to further acknowledge it, finding interest in the parking lot outside her window instead. However, she could see the way Harry mulled it over with excitement in his eyes. “I am jus' your agent,” there was a smug little dimple on his cheek that she wanted to smack off his face. Her heart took off even if she wanted to wipe his shit-eating grin off his lips. “But...m’the only one who doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving...so s’kinda like I’ll be in charge of everything, so people can have their holiday with their families.”

That seemed like a big deal. Even from her perspective. Harry in charge of it all, even for a day. “Oh, wow,” she said blinking. “Is that something you...want?”

“I’d much rather jus’ focus on you if that’s what you’re asking. Think m’starting t’have you all figured out, love.” She resented that. She liked being a mystery. Or a pain in the butt, and what have you. She took the coffee cup he passed along to her and scowled even though her heart was a mess knowing Harry just wanted to focus on her.

Within seconds, she was a bit down about it. Her heart settling into a miserable pattern instead. If he did a good job at this, he would probably be up for promotion. Which was probably something he wanted. He would probably leave her detail and she would get stuck with someone new who didn't help her study and complained when she needed help hanging up her floral stuff. “Y’okay?” He asked again. She certainly wasn’t about to tell him about her fear of abandonment again.

She shook her head. “Fine. Just...I don’t know, we’ve still got an hour of that movie left. Thought we were going to finish it today,” she muttered.

“Sorry, love. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked.

He frowned. “Oh right,” he sighed. “Well, whenever we—”

Her phone was connected to the SUV so she could play her music when they drove around, so it quietly alerted the pair of them that her father was calling. She looked at her phone for two rings, closed her eyes, sighed, and answered. “Hi, Dad,” she said gently.

Harry had never heard that tone before.

She listened, nodding, muttering quiet “uh-huhs,” every so often. “Good, I had an exam today,” her voice was quiet. Timid. Harry was so surprised she even knew how to be timid. “So...when do you fly in?” Harry saw her shoulders deflate just a hair. “Oh,” she mumbled. “No...s’fine. I can...go to a friend’s or something. Yeah. Yeah, of course,” she nodded. “I love—”

Harry saw the call ended on the little screen before she finished her statement. She dropped her phone in her lap and looked out the window. For thirty seconds there wasn't a sound in the car except for the tires on the road. “Pull over,” she said softly. Harry could tell she didn’t want to have to ask twice or be asked questions.

But he had to try anyway. “Is everythi—”

The second Harry was parked, her door was opened, and she was sprinting down the sidewalk. Harry nearly lost his bearings in the sudden change in her demeanor. She didn’t even close her door. He struggled to get his seatbelt off and hurriedly closed their doors before running to catch up to her. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned. Fortunately, his strides were two of hers, so he was able to catch up to her quickly before she turned down the next street. Even in his leather jacket and dress pants. He hoped he didn’t look terrible for his meeting later in front of The Secretary. “Love, what the hell are you doing?” He asked and grabbed her arm pulling her back toward him before she could run any further. She stumbled a bit, Harry steadied her before she was yanking her arm from him. Her gaze was directed away from him. It was then he noticed how misty her eyes looked--even just the view of her profile. “Hey,” he said gently. Much softer than he probably should have because he was supposed to be mad at her. “Love, what’s—”

She shook her head and swallowed. “My birthday is Wednesday; do you know that?” She whispered. He nodded—of course he did. He actually bought her a book he saw that he thought she’d like. Along with her favorite kind of gel pens and journal with flowers on it. He didn’t even mean to get them, but he was at the bookstore on his day off and he couldn’t stop thinking about her flowery apartment when he saw the journal. He wanted to buy her the whole bookstore if he was honest but didn't know what to do with the misplaced emotions and so just stuck with the three little items. “Dad doesn’t remember. Ever. Even though it’s almost always right before Thanksgiving.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. Mum began the count down two weeks before his birthday each year. She would give him updates of the contractions she got the night before his birthday every year, retelling the events for the last twenty-nine years. She told him that “right now, I was having a bowl of cereal. I think that’s what did me in. Swore you didn’t like the kind I chose and wanted out.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he said quietly. Why did she run? “But—”

“He’s not coming. He’s...I don’t know what he’s doing, he didn’t really say. Said he couldn’t make it,” she croaked. “You’re not having your meeting today. I’m sorry,” like it was her fault. “You’re gonna be stuck with me all by my miserable, lonely self and—” She choked on a sob. She didn’t even cry like this when she came to, at the hospital. The only time she ever cried like this was when it came to stuff about her dad. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I swear to God he doesn't even love me," she sobbed. "And I don't even know if I love him most days but I'm his daughter," the anguish in her voice hurt Harry more than all the paperwork he ever had to do. It might have hurt more than the night he watched her in the hospital. Harry’s job was to protect the daughter of the US Secretary of State and it seemed like the only protection she needed was from the very same person. “I—”

“I’ll be there,” he promised. He just wanted to stop the tears. But it was true either way. They pulled so hard on his emotions seeing her so distraught. At least when she studied and worried, she wasn’t doing well, he could remind her she was brilliant and help her study. How did he comfort her when she was lonely for affection, and he was just supposed to be her security agent? “Love,” he practically cooed, he couldn’t take it. Gemma would be so helpful right now if she were here; stroking her hair and telling her she looked pretty or suggesting something useful like stuffing their faces with chocolate cake. Or shopping until their feet hurt. Harry felt useless. There wasn’t much he could do except pull her toward him and wrapped her in a hug. She sobbed against him openly.

They must have looked like quite a pair on the sidewalk to the few people passing by as she blubbered into his shirt. His nice pressed shirt that she was staining embarrassingly with snot and tears. She clung to him instinctively wishing she could disappear behind his jacket like a magic trick.

He rubbed her back soothingly, as best he could. “I know, m'sorry, love,” he murmured. “I know,” his voice was gentle as he repeated his sentiment to her. “M’sorry." It wasn’t enough. He wished he could do more, say more. Despite the stares, no one really seemed to mind the way she cried into his shirt. Harry’s phone was vibrating with messages—probably relaying information she just gave him of his cancelled meeting. “Wanna go finish our movie?” His voice was quiet. She nodded, sniffled and wiped her eyes as she pulled away from him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He shook his head. “S’okay.”

“Sorry I ran.”

He shrugged again. “Y’didn’t get far.”

They were quiet as they headed back. A few stray sniffles wracked her body every few steps. “I outran an agent once on your day off,” her voice was a little stronger and they walked back, side-by-side toward the SUV up the road.

He chuckled. “How come?”

“Didn’t think he could keep up,” she shrugged. “He couldn’t by the way. Is there no like...physical fitness test? Like I can’t even run that well so the fact he was struggling...” she trailed off shaking her head. “S’not a good look for DSS. If I could give them a negative star Yelp review, I would.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re something else, Miss Wildflower,” her face warmed at his gentle little nickname. She would never forget the codename conversation as long as she lived but she was surprised he thought about it at all.

“You don’t have American friends or something...on Thanksgiving?”

He shook his head. “M’all yours, love,” he smirked. “I’ll help y’cook and we can watch movies?” He asked opening her car door again. She paused before she got in.

“If you’re sure,” her voice was quiet, unsure. She didn’t want to force him—especially when he really was under no obligation now that her father wasn’t going to be there.

“M’sure,” he nodded closing her inside before going to his side.

Harry was all hers.

--

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[differenteagletragedy]

I am afraid worms have invaded my brain and they are eating away at everything that is not OUR LIFE SWAP AU

This is an AU in which Baxter is your best friend that moved in town when you were 8, Cove is the boy from the city you met when you were 13, and Derek is the boy who comes into town for the summer when you're 18. This one is a reworking of the original "Mountains" scene.

OG Swap here -- another part here -- another here -- one more here

In the ten years you'd been friends, you and Baxter had rarely gotten into any arguments. You both just got along so well, and he was agreeable to a fault, always so against being confrontational or divisive. And so for all this time, with maybe just a small handful of hiccups, you'd just gone on easily, having a grand time together.

But that night, as he sat on your bed watching you pack your things to go on a camping trip with Derek, he seemed perfectly willing to fight.

Derek had rented the empty condo across the street from you for the summer. He was a year older than you, a college athlete, and he was doing some private training with a coach in the city. That weekend, he had a few days off and he'd wanted to go camping in the mountains. He'd asked you to join him, and you said yes. He was sweet, and it was easy being around him.

Baxter, meanwhile, was being anything but sweet.

"You're the mountain boy," you told him, trying to pull him out of whatever funk he was in. "What do you think, will I need a jacket?"

"And proper shoes," he said quietly, arms and legs crossed tightly. "You'll want to bring something for the weather too, the forecast is calling for rain."

"What would you suggest? Raincoat? Umbrella? Poncho?"

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. You waited, but he wouldn't speak.

"What is it?" you asked.

He looked up at you -- a glare, almost -- and said, "I would suggest you not go at all, but it seems you've made up your mind."

"What's the issue with me going?" you asked, getting even more confused than you had been. "I'm not going to be gone for long, just a couple of days."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

He paused, then, keeping his eyes down this time, said, "You don't know him."

"Derek?" you asked. "Sure I do. We've hung out plenty of times. You've hung out with him too, he's the most harmless guy on the planet."

"But you're going to be going off alone with him, hours away, together in a tent in the middle of the woods," he argued.

"And?"

You studied him, trying to understand why he was reacting so strongly to this. You couldn't see a clear answer on his face, but you did see he was digging his fingernails into his arms.

"Seriously, what's the problem?" you said, sitting down beside him and grabbing his hands so he'd stop. "What's going on?"

Baxter still didn't seem eager to talk about it, but something in him softened when took his hands. He held them gently, running his thumb over your knuckles, and said, "He likes you."

"No, he doesn't," you said quickly, sure that wasn't the case. "We're friends."

"You can't possibly be this oblivious," he muttered, and you yanked your hands away from his.

"If you're going to be rude, then you can leave," you told him, getting angry.

"I'm not trying to be rude, I'm trying to get you to understand that perhaps going off for a jaunt in the woods with the Incredible Hulk that you've known for approximately two minutes isn't the smartest plan."

You'd been getting angry before -- you were fully there now.

"I'm not stupid," you said, standing up again, "and you're being a jerk. What do you think he's going to do, abduct me or something?"

Baxter stood as well, and took a step closer to you. He was so slow to anger, except when he pointed it inward, but it felt like he was staring daggers at you now.

"I just want you to be safe," he said sharply. "I care about you very much, and I --"

"If you care about me, then trust that I can make my own decisions, I'm not some dumb, helpless --"

"I know that!" he said, near yelling, moving closer still. "That's not what I'm saying, you're not listening to me."'

"I am listening to you, you're --"

"You're not," he said firmly, closing the distance between you entirely. "I don't want you to go off with some handsome, well-mannered boy who obviously has feelings for you. That's what I'm saying."

"Why?"

"Because I do know him, and I know exactly how charming he is. I know he wouldn't hurt you, but I ..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. His anger was turning into anxiety.

"You what?" you asked, softening. "Please just talk to me, Baxter."

Instead of talking, he took you in his arms. Surprised, you hugged him back. Then you felt his breath, hot against your ear, and he said something so low you barely heard him.

"Please tell me you won't sleep with him," he said.

Appalled, you pushed him off of you. Your anger had returned tenfold.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, the frustration clear in your tone. "I'm not even dating Derek, but it's not any of your business what we do anyway. Why you even care this much?"

He didn't say anything, and he wouldn't meet your eyes again. You knew this phase of the Baxter emotional cycle -- he was shutting down.

"Go home," you said finally.

Without looking at you, he swiftly moved to leave your room. You heard his footsteps go down the hall, and after a moment you heard the front door shut.

Then you heard your phone go off in your pocket.

It was a text from Derek that read, "Hey! Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yep!" you replied. And you were. Baxter wasn't going to ruin that for you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, you met Derek at his condo, and you left bright and early. He was all smiles and laughs and brightness, and the drive to the campsite was fun. It was always fun with Derek.

He took the lead when it was time to set up your things, not wanting you to lift a finger as he put up the tent. You did anyway, of course, and it was obvious how much he appreciated it.

It was getting into the evening after it was all said and done, and Baxter had been right -- the rain did come. Derek didn't mind, he just pulled you into the tent and zipped it up until it passed. And with his warm presence so close, you didn't mind either.

You set about situating your sleeping bags and the other things that you'd brought into the tent with you. When you were done, you still heard the rain falling.

"Guess this is it for tonight," Derek said, not sounding too bothered. "Don't worry, it's supposed to be clear tomorrow. It might be muddy, but I think we'll still have fun."

You smiled at him, happy to be spending the time with him. You hadn't known him too long, Baxter was right about that, and you didn't think he liked you, at least not in a romantic way. But he was a good guy. And it felt nice to be here with him.

"So, how do you want to pass the time?" he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"This is your trip," you told him, playfully nudging his shoulder. "You go first."

"Ok," he said, then approached you. Before you knew it, his arms were locked around your waist, pulling you in tight against him. He smiled, looking proud of himself.

"I made my move," he said. "Your turn."

You pushed everything out of your head -- your fight with Baxter, your years-long crush on him that hadn't gone anywhere for so long you thought it never would. Your reservations, your fears, your nervousness, you shoved it all away and put yourself firmly in the moment.

Then you kissed him.

[frogwithgun]

Write time! With the students cause I feel like it. Um yeah enjoy this one!

In which Gojo forgets his anniversary!

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

Stood in front of three teens he swears that something is off. He's checked, double checked, and triple checked things already. As Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi watch him pace back and forth while muttering to himself.

Maybe he's going insane? No. That happened a while ago when he chose to be a teacher. Gojo turns to his students. "Are you sure?" Mugumi sighs and buries his face in his hands. Yuji pats his back and Nobara nods. "Very. You forgot something." Yeah he must be insane.

Gojo turns his back to his students and starts to pace again. Running through all the things he could have forgotten. "It's not my birthday." He mutters. "It's not Sugurus birthday." He turns back to the students. "It's not the girls birthday." Is he just going through birthdays?

Yes. Yes he is. "It's not a birthday." Nobara says with an eye roll. "Is it a holiday?" Nobara shakes her head. Gojo is just confused now. "Then what is it?" Yuji looks at Gojo with his head tilted. Still rubbing Megumis back. "Didn't you marry Geto-sensi today?" Gojo laughs.

He loves thinking about his husband. "What? No! That's two days from now." Now Nobara is laughing. "Today is March 27." Gojos eyes widen behind his blindfold. He even takes it off to see them better. "What?! No it's the 2-" He pulls out his phone in a hurry. Checking the date.

He pauses. His wallpaper, a photo of Geto and the girls, stares at him. And right above Getos head is the time. In smaller letters above that reads, March 27th. The day he married Geto. The day he proposed to Geto. The day Geto asked him out.

Slowly he puts his phone back in his pocket and clears his throat. "If you'll excuse me." He says as calmly as he possibly can. Then he bolts away from the training grounds. Leaving behind a strong gust of wind.

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

The tea Geto made was sitting on the coffee table. He was sat on the couch peacefully reading a book. As he turns the page he notices the tea in the cup started to ripple. He closes the book and sets it aside. Bringing the cup closer he looks confused. "What the fuck?"

The door slams open. He jumps and almost falls off the couch as a whole. "AH!" He gets ready to summon a curse. But stops as he sees who it is. "Satoru? What are you doing home so earl-mph!?" He's cut off when Gojo kisses him. "I FORGOT." Geto blinks.

Then he starts laughing. "I knew I wasn't crazy!" Geto kisses Gojo on the check and sighs. "I COMPLETELY FORGOT IT WAS TODAY. I SWEAR IT WAS TWO DAYS FROM NOW." Gojo is pacing back and forth again while Geto just calmly keeps reading. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?! MONEY, A CAR, A NEW HOUSE?!" Geto sighs again.

As much as he loves freaking out his husband he would rather he's clam. "Satoru I don't want any of those things." Gojo drops to his knees in front of Suguru. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO FORGET." He's growing at his feet. God he's dramatic. Geto pats his head and smiles. "Calm down. It's fine."

Gojo buries his head into Getos lap and whines. "But I forgot!" Geto nods and turns to the next page in his book. "Yes." Gojo looks up at him. "Aren't you mad?" Geto just shrugs. "Why would I be mad? You're a busy man." Geto looks down at him. "Probably to busy for little old me." Gojo looks offended. "NEVER!"

Then Geto leans down and kisses him. "Then you can take me out to dinner." Gojo lights up. "Ok! I'll take you to a five star restaurant!" Geto shakes his head while Gojo is just happy to be going out with his husband.

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

Bonus!

Nobara looks at Megumi and Yuji. "How are they still together?" Megumi looks at Nobara. "Because Geto-sensi likes Gojos muscles." Nobara shrugs and nods. "I guess that's fair." Yuji looks around the training grounds. "So, when is he coming back?" Megumi sighs and covers his face. "He isn't. Their probably at home eating each others faces off."

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 15

Author's note: You don't want to miss this week's chapters 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

It's been three months. Three months, twelve days and twenty hours (yes, I've counted them) since I slapped Declan's face and told him I didn't want to see him again. But today that is over, because the national team is coming back to Tottenham training centre, and I'll have to face him again.

The phase of feeling like there is a hole in my chest and crying with everything is over. But am I ready to see him and those stupid blue eyes of his, to hear his loud laugh, and to smell his perfume everywhere around me? I am not. At all. 

But oh, well.  

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What do you mean he isn't coming?”

“He picked up some kind of injury on the last game. Not sure what, tho, I don't understand those things” Olga says. “But he apparently is going back to Arsenal so he can rest.”

“Thank God” I sigh.

“You look so relieved, Liv” she laughs.

“Well, how would you feel if you were about to see again the guy you fell in love with and who broke your heart, and had to put on a smile on your face and make him coffee as if nothing had happened because otherwise you could be losing your job?”

“I don't think they would fire you for not smiling at him.”

“Yeah, but for dropping a boiling coffee on his precious feet…”

“Oh my God, Liv” she gasps. “I know he was a dick and I hate him for what he did to you. But would you do something like that?”

“Maybe” I shrug.

“Olivia!” she gasps again.

“I was kidding, it was just a joke. Relax.”

Though maybe I wasn't 100% kidding. Because I think this is the new phase I'm in. Violence. Rage. Wanting to hurt him as badly as he hurt me.

“I hope so” Olga says, giving me a worried look. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Bloody hell” I curse when half the boxes of napkins I'm carrying end up on the floor.

“Let me help you” a voice says next to me.

“It's ok, don't… worry” I say, looking up at the owner of that voice and getting lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. Declan. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Uh?”

“Weren't you injured?”

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“They want to run some tests before I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. The sooner the better. And I can do this myself, I don't need your help.”

“Liv, please…”

“No” I say, snatching one of the boxes from his hand and starting to walk away. 

“Liv, c'mon. I just want to talk.”

“And I already told you I don't want to talk to you ever again. Besides being a liar, are you also deaf now?”

“Liv…”

“Stop saying my name, Declan. You are gonna wear it off.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, sure” I snort. 

“I am, Olivia. If you'll let me explain myself…”

“I said no, Declan. And now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do” I say, turning around and walking into the cafeteria, taking big breaths to calm myself and not kick something or start crying again. Or both.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“See you tomorrow, Liv” Olga says before getting into her car.

“Bye” I smile back. 

It's already dark outside, the car park full of puddles from the rain. And I'm so busy trying to not step on one of them while also looking for my keys inside my bag, that I don't see the person standing next to my Mini until he talks to me.

“Hello, Liv.”

“Holy mother of Jesus!” I scream, my bag falling from my hands and ending on a puddle. “What the fuck are you doing here, Declan?”

“I want to talk with you” he says, picking up my bag.

“Again? Didn't I make myself clear earlier?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But you are stupid, I know. And now look, my best bag is ruined because of you” I say, snatching it from his hands just as I did with the napkins. It is soaking wet.

“At least your phone wasn't inside” he shrugs.

“What a relief, uh?” I say, walking around him and opening the car's door, throwing my bag inside.

“Liv, it'll be just a minute. Please let me…”

“No, Declan! I don't want to hear your excuses! I'm done with you! Why can't you understand it?”

“Because I… Liv…”

“Because I… Liv…” I repeat, making fun of him. “Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like texting that singer or one of those other girls you are sleeping with to let them know you will be free tomorrow?”

“Liv…”

“For the love of God, stop saying my name!” I say, lifting my arm to slap him like I did at his house. But like happened the second time, he grabs it before I can touch him.

“I probably deserved that” he says, closing the space between us.

“You definitely did, yes.”

“I was a dick.”

“You are a dick” I correct him, trying to stay focused on being mad at him. But it isn't easy. The way he is looking at me is making my heart beat too fast, my knees are already feeling like jelly as he keeps moving closer, and my skin is burning where his fingers are touching me.

“Liv…” he whispers, his free hand moving to my face, caressing my cheek.

“Stop saying my name, Declan.”

“I can't.”

“You…” He is too close. So close that I can smell his perfume everywhere around me, surrounding me, making me get lost on him. Fuck. Shit. No. “Declan…” I whisper.

And then, what I didn't want to happen, happens. 

At first he just brushes his lips against mine, something delicate, barely noticeable. But it is enough to send a wave of electricity through my whole body, making me shudder in his arms. And when he properly kisses me, I'm gone. My arms move on their own, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Which only makes his kisses more intense, more desperate. We are kissing as if our lives depended on it, as if we needed each other to breathe. And that doesn't stop when I open my car's back door and we both get inside. When clothes start leaving our bodies, the little space turning us into a tangle of limbs, pushing us against the other as close as it is humanly possible, gasps, moans and other unholy noises leaving our mouths. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Liv, this just came for you” Alex says, leaving a big package on the table where Olga and I are having lunch.

“Who is sending me something here?” I ask with a confused look.

“I don't know” he shrugs, sitting down next to us.

“Open it, Liv!” Olga says. 

“Ok” I say, doing as she's asked.

“Oh… my God. Did you buy yourself a designer bag?” she says when she sees the box.

“I didn't, no.”

“Then who sent this?”

“I… I don't know” I say, slowly opening it.

“Liv! That's the bag you've been wanting for ages! How many times have we gone to Harrods just to stare at it?” 

“Too many” I chuckle.

“Does it say who has sent it?” Alex asks.

“There is a note, yes” I say, taking it and reading it while Olga marvels at the bag.

“You once told me that you were in love with this bag, that you would go to Harrods with your friends and stare at it wishing it was yours. Well, guess what. Now it is. Hope it makes up for the one I ruined the other night. -DR ”

“And?” Alex asks again. “Who sent it?”

“Kennedy.”

“Madders’ wife got you a designer bag?”

“She says she got invited to do some free shopping, was able to choose whatever she wanted, remembered that I was feeling a bit down, and…” I shrug.

“They gifted her a designer bag?” Olga gasps, totally buying my lie.

“They gave her a budget and it was the same amount of money as the bag.”

“Wow. The life of a wag” she laughs. “I want friends like that too. This is so nice…”

“It is” I smile. 

“Olga, we need you” one of our coworkers says.

“Coming” she sighs. “Will you let me try it on later?”

“Of course.”

“Urgh, you are the best, Liv” she says, giving me a hug before leaving.

“Kennedy's last name is Rice now?” Alex says.

“Uh?”

“You may fool Olga, but not me. I know he sent you that bag. Are you back together? Did you forgive him?”

“No and no.”

“Then?”

“Then what, Alex?”

“Then why did he buy you that bag?”

“Because it is over. It is like a goodbye gift.”

“A goodbye gift?” he laughs.

“Yes. Now if you'll excuse me” I say, getting up and taking the bag and the package with me.

Even though Declan and I haven't talked again since what happened in my car, we both know what it meant: it was a goodbye. One that hurts and that neither of us wanted if we only think about what we were feeling that night, but that was the right thing to do.

[darthgloris]

Our Padawan II

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!Jedi!reader

A/N: inspired by the last fic (and by my undying love of The Lion King), here comes the heartbreaking sequel! This actually started out as a scenario that I replay in my head when I'm bored and now I'm finally writing it down! Enjoy

Warnings: angst, family dynamic, platonic!Ahsoka x reader, heartbreak, sadness, death

Summary: The trio's next mission is on Anakin's home planet, Tatooine. In a moment of free time, Ahsoka is practicing her lightsaber skills on her own, while Y/N and Anakin spend some alone time together. The Padawan's training routine is interrupted by a Sith plot, and when her Masters run to rescue her again, something goes terribly wrong.

Song: Stampede - Hans Zimmer

Our Padawan // Our Padawan III

☆☆☆

"The mission is finally over," Y/N spoke, stretching her arms as she looked out at the sandy Tatooine landscape. "I'm way too tired to go back right now."

"Well, how about we take a break here?" Anakin suggested. "We could leave in a few hours."

"That sounds great," she grinned at her boyfriend, knowing exactly what he planned on doing. "Ahsoka, are you tired?"

"Nope." She quipped. Her energetic nature never seemed to falter.

Anakin chuckled, expecting the answer. "Then go practice. Maybe one day you'll actually beat me with a lightsaber."

"Show-off." Y/N muttered fondly, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

"All right." Ahsoka beamed, walking away.

"Don't wander too far away, Padawan." She called as the young girl turned around to leave.

"Okay. I'll see you guys later." She said and began to walk away.

"Hold on there, Snips. Aren't you forgetting something?" Anakin asked with a soft smile.

"Oh, yeah!" She exclaimed and ran back to hug him. He smiled down at her as she clutched onto his robes, chuckling softly.

Then she rushed over to Y/N, who was already sitting on a picnic towel. Ahsoka, who was now taller than her Master, rested her cheek on her head during the embrace.

"You run along now and go train." She smiled as the girl grabbed her lightsabers and walked away.

Anakin walked over to the towel and plopped down next to her. With a small grunt, he pulled Y/N onto his lap and laughed when she squeaked in surprise. She adjusted her position before pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to his lips. She looked into his big, blue eyes and smiled softly, her mind wandering as she lovingly traced his scar with her delicate fingertips.

"Hey," he said softly, diverting her attention back to his eyes. His sincere, sweet eyes. "She's going to be fine."

"I know. I just... can't seem to get it out of my head. I had never been so scared in my entire life." She replied sincerely.

"I get that. But she promised us she'd be careful. And I promised you a nice trip, so..." he said, pulling his hands off her waist to gesture at himself. "Here's the highlight of the day."

She laughed at his antics before giving him another kiss, this time sinking into him as they both slowly fell on the floor.

...

Ahsoka turned off her lightsabers with a huff, resting them on the ground before sitting down. She wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead and sighed, resting under a tree's shade.

The Padawan frowned when she heard a rumbling coming from the distance.

The ground began to shake and a few pebbles moved, as she looked up to the cliffs, and a gigantic herd of Banthas descended into the gorge at a speed she thought impossible.

She gasped, her body nearly frozen by fear.

Before they could trample her, she stumbled onto her feet and ran away as fast as her legs could carry her, and whimpered in fear whenever they seemed to be close enough to step on her.

She almost tripped over her feet as the sand filled her airways, delaying her fight-or-flight response.

...

Y/N laid in Anakin's arms, her head on his bare chest as she heard the commotion. She sat up and gazed at the gorge in confusion. Anakin soon followed and, with a small huff, tried to see what was going on.

"What's happening down there?" Rex wondered out loud, approaching the couple.

"I have no idea." Anakin said.

R2-D2 beeped repeatedly. There's a stampede in the gorge. Ahsoka's down there.

The Jedi Masters immediately looked at each other in horror.

"Ahsoka!"

...

The girl's heavy breath mixed with whines of worry and small sobs of fear.

Once in a while she looked back to see how close they were, and every time it looked like they were closer and closer to trampling her dead.

She caught sight of a dying tree and immediately leapt on it, clutching onto the thickest branch as if her life depended on it.

Because it did.

...

Y/N never remembered running this fast, ever. Her heart thrummed with adrenaline as Anakin dropped his robes to the ground while he ran.

Rex rushed ahead and took as much care as possible to run through the cliffs without falling, looking out that gorge for the Padawan.

"Rex, help me!"

His ears perked up as he saw the young girl struggling to hold onto the tree, her grip faltering by the second. She tried to wrap her legs around the branch but failed almost every time, only succeeding in slipping off further. "Your Masters are on the way! Hold on!"

"Hurry!" She cried.

The Jedi ran over to a ridge and fearfully inspected the area. Rex came back and pointed to a spot further away, while they craned their necks to try to find her. "There, on that tree!"

Y/N gasped as she saw her Padawan on the verge of falling off. "Hold on, Ahsoka!"

The scream she got in reply was enough. She jumped off the ridge and onto a smaller one. Anakin grasped her arm and gave her a pleading look. She got on her tiptoes and kissed his lips quickly, letting out a small "I love you" before jumping in between the Banthas.

Anakin gasped and leaned over the ridge as much as he could, supervising his girlfriend's moves. "Rex, go back to the ship! Comm Obi-Wan and report the situation!"

"Yes, General Skywalker!"

He looked back to the scene as Y/N ran past the tree, where Ahsoka was hanging desperately, using every bit of strength she had left to not let go. She then turned on her heels and, between the rumbling and the sandy clouds rapidly forming, went back in the direction of a tree.

She tripped on a small rock and dropped to the ground with a groan, then shook her head and looked up as a Bantha broke the tree, sending the girl into the air with a scream. She gasped and jumped to catch her in her arms, holding onto her tightly as she tried to beeline back to safety. She bumped into another Bantha and fell to the ground, dropping Ahsoka.

The Padawan opened her eyes and whimpered as she tried to avoid the running animals, moving and flinching whenever one ran past her. She looked back and caught sight of Y/N and felt something grab her as she closed her eyes, wishing it could all go away.

The Jedi Master avoided the Banthas and with a few hops, grabbed onto the ridge with one arm and set Ahsoka down next to Anakin with the other. She began to sigh with relief, when suddenly she was pulled back into the stampede.

"Y/N!"

"Master!"

Their fearful eyes combed through the herd, looking for their companion amidst the chaos. As after a few second passed and nothing happened, Anakin began to tremble at the thought of having lost her, while Ahsoka's eyes desperately scoured the zone.

A flash of off-white robes sprung out from the clouds of sand and grasped onto the rocky cliffs, now too tired to use the Force, and used whatever small ledge possible to climb up. Anakin felt himself relax almost entirely as he held his Padawan protectively in his arms, relieved that it was almost over.

"Come on, Snips, let's go help her up." He said and hopped on the bigger rocks, Ahsoka following suit.

With a tired grunt, Y/N clutched onto whatever rock she could, now grasping onto the edge of the precipice; her feet began to slip as she looked for any room to lean on and climb up. As a shadow approached, she looked up in relief, hoping to see Anakin.

"Dooku?" She panted, outraged. "This was- mphh - you..."

The Sith didn't answer, just stepped on her fingers, making her groan in pain. "Chancellor Palpatine sends his regards." He kicked her hands off the edge.

She screamed out as she fell through thin air.

"NO!"

[xlatiwritesx]

The Only Real Thing | EH9

A/N: Finally !! A football Imagine !! The amount of players I imagined this for before settling for Erling 💀. Anyways, Enjoy 🥳

Genre: fluff, then heart-wrenching angst. Erling Haaland x Singer!FemReader.

Words: 4.7K

Synopsis: after your tour’s last show at the Etihad, your Manchester songwriting sessions start for the next six months. However, a newly found love between you and a Norwegian player gets harder to navigate the closer your time to go back to your life in the US gets.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

You look out the plane's window, trying to count the clouds filling up the night sky to get your mind off counting the cracks in your heart or the tears that won't stop falling.

Why won't anything last? Why can't anything perfect just exist? But then you wouldn't have had the six months worth a life time with him anyway.

It wasn't perfect. But you still loved every living minute of it. You loved his imperfect guitar skills, his imperfect dancing, his imperfect cooking. All his imperfects were perfect to you.

You wished that your team never handed out tickets to the ManCity players for your Etihad Stadium concert. You wished you hadn't met him. That meant you won't ever have all the memories from your short time together, and you were okay with that. You can live without this heart ache. You can definitely live without Erling's sobs and red face engraved in your head.

You try to pin point exactly when you lost yourself to him. Your songwriting sessions in Manchester were supposed to come and go quietly after your tour's last show at the Etihad.

You weren't supposed to run into a Norwegian player from a sky blue team two days later. He wasn't supposed to complement your music. You weren't supposed to blush as you thanked him. And he absolutely shouldn't have asked you out for lunch.

But you still ran into that Norwegian player, and you still agreed for lunch. You sat in the cool Manchester air outside a quiet restaurant and just talked about anything that came to mind.

You talked about music and he talked about football. You hoped he didn't notice how much you were enjoying talking with him over pizza and coke. It was embarrassingly a lot. But you didn't know that he felt exactly the same way.

He never wanted it to end.

He didn't want all his planning to purposely run into you outside the studio you worked at to end in just an hour.

So he was obviously unhappy when Pep called his number, asking where he was.

"Training?" You smiled, ignoring the disappointment that he had to go and that you'll probably never see him again. At least not in person.

"Yeah. Maybe I could show you around tomorrow since it's my day off. I've been in Manchester long enough to finally say this to someone" he proudly opens his arms and you laugh lightly, keeping your excitement as low as possible for it not to show.

And he did show you Manchester the next day. He took you downtown, to the park he always goes to when he wants to just relax after a busy week of games and training, to where all the tourists go when they usually visit, and where he and his teammates usually hang out around the Etihad.

"I never knew there's this much to do in Manchester" you smile at him and he shakes his head.

"Me neither. It's a beautiful 'City'" he does air quotes and laughs. You roll your eyes at his joke, laughing along with him.

He drops you off at your rented house and waits until you get inside. You fight the urge to look back and wave one last time at your newly found crush. You felt so stupid for admitting it, but for the next few weeks, you waited for him to text you, you danced around your room when he finally did, you hoped and dreamt of when he would ask you to hang out again, you looked for tickets to his games, thought about how his cheeks redden under the sun, how focused he gets when driving, and how excited he gets when he talks about football.

A few weeks of texting lead to something more. You start writing songs about how he made you feel. About your little interactions. About him.

Going downtown turned into going to his house. Just a few hours turned into all day. Hearing about training and games turned into watching them live at the Etihad.

"That was a great game!" You try to convince him as you walked out of the stadium after a disappointing game. He still sulks as you walk to his car.

"We could've won with a bigger difference" he whines and you shake your head, leaning back on his car door when you reached it. He stands in front of you.

"You still won, though. Give yourself and the team some credit" you tell him. He doesn't reply.

He looks up and you admire how the setting sun washes his face golden. He looks at you, not holding back any emotion from flooding his eyes and drowning you in admiration. You don't either. You don't hold back from staring into his eyes for as long as he would let you.

"I've been..." he walks closer to you, hesitantly taking your hands in his own. Your heart feels like it could stop any second. You almost urge him to just say it. To finally make your dreams come to life.

"You're all I think about" he laughs nervously. You don't. You're too flustered to do or say anything.

"And I just can't wait any longer to ask you to be mine. I want you for myself. I want you to be wearing my jersey when I look at the crowd and look for you" he says so quietly it's almost a whisper. You wanted to kiss him. Right then and there. So when he leaned in, you placed a hand on his cheek and he took that as an invitation to lean in further.

You've never felt anything like you did in that moment. Nothing even came close. Everything felt meaningless compared to it. You wanted him more than you've ever wanted anything. You wanted that kiss to last a life time, but nothing does unfortunately.

Once Erling pulled away, you looked down at your feet and pursed your lips together as he looked around. Nervous and flustered, you turn around and open the car door, getting in quickly and leaving Erling outside.

He looks at you through the window and chuckles. However, you don't see him jump up and down, raising two thumbs ups to Jack, John, and Ruben who just witnessed everything that happened between the two of you. They smiled proudly at Erling who never stopped talking about you to them. How he was going to ask you to be finally his. So, they had a mini party right there that he finally got you.

Things in the studio were fired up. With your raging emotions, so much was getting done and work has never been easier. You and Erling hung out every day at that point. He would sometimes come hang out at the studio, and you'd leave together to spend the night at his place.

He would cook you too salty, or too bland meals every time you went to his place. His movie choices were peculiar, yet enjoyable. His arms were slowly becoming home to you, and his clothes were becoming your daily attire.

You attended every game. You did wear his jersey to every single one of them, and though the Etihad was always full of thousands of people, Erling always looked up to only you to celebrate his goals.

It was a Tuesday night at his place. Half eaten, too salty pasta sat in ceramic plates on the coffee table and a soap opera on Erling's TV. You laid on top of Erling on his living room's couch, resting your head of his chest while silently counting his calm heart beats and enjoying the warmth from his wrapped arm around your body.

"Y/n" Erling calls quietly.

"Hm?" You hum in response, your eyes focused on the TV.

He suddenly detangles himself from you and towers above you as he stands next to the couch. You look up at him before he carries you. You giggle, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his neck and brining your face close to his.

Your foreheads touch and you both stay quiet for a second. You wait for Erling to speak.

"I'm in love with you, y/n y/l/n" he whispers and your heart explodes with an emotion you could only explain as love. You thought of all the explanations of love you came across throughout your life. You compared them to what you felt in that moment, but to no avail. Nothing came close to that feeling. That feeling could never be articulated. Could never be conveyed through mere speech or writing.

"I'm in love with you, Erling Haaland" you whisper back before kissing him, hoping to convey how real your feelings were for him. How deep you felt how you felt towards him.

As your fourth month in Manchester wraps up, you realize how far you and Erling have come. And how close your time to go back to the States was coming too.

But you kept your eyes shut and your ears plugged. You convinced yourself that by doing so, that day would just never come around.

You two still held hands every chance you got, you still slow danced around Erling's living room, you still went to every game, Erling still celebrated his goals and wins with only you. You kept writing songs about him and he kept dedicating all his hard work to you.

"Come on close your eyes" Erling urged and you placed both hands on your eyes. You were sat on his bed, ready to go to sleep when he announced that he got you something. He dangled a necklace right in front of your face.

"Open them" he orders quietly. You do so and gasp at the dangling jewelry in front of you.

Erling admires your reaction as you take the necklace in your hand. You inspect the golden letters written in his cursive handwriting. It was both of your initials.

"This way you'll always have a piece of me with you when I'm away" he says quietly and you look at him. You quickly hug him tightly, trying to bury the heart ache that only keeps getting more tangible.

The more time that passes, the harder it gets to hide the fact that this whole whirlwind romance won't last. You knew that. Erling knew that too. But, understandably, none of you wanted to admit it. So you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your tears back into their ducts and he held you tighter than usual.

"I love you" you mumbled into his neck and he kissed your temple, still holding you.

"I love you" he said it back to you like he always did and forever will.

You finally meet his family. You get to know his younger sisters and help his mother in the kitchen. You try to test your football trivia with his dad and you actually impress him with how much you picked up since you got together with Erling.

Under the dinner table, your hands intertwine and your heart flutters at the way his parents smile at you every time Erling talks about you.

At the Etihad, things are also getting fired up because of Erling's raging emotions. He runs faster, laughs louder, and scores better. Pep, Jack, and John stand next to each other, admiring his genuine laughter at something Kyle said.

"Funny what love does to you" John says quietly, still smiling at Erling. Jack nodded, his eyes focused on Erling as well.

Only Pep was worried. He knew once the slightest crack occurs in Erlings dream relationship, and not because his performance will plummet, but because he knew how hard heartbreak could be. And he knew damn well that he'll just stand and watch, because nothing ever mends a broken heart.

Towards the end of your sixth month in Manchester, a coherent draft of your upcoming studio album finally came together. You couldn't wait to go home and tell Erling all about it and even listen to it with him.

It was all about falling in love with him after all.

But the plane tickets your manager handed you blew everything away. It was a slap across your face. A wake up call to finally leave the waking dream you've been so immersed in.

"Couldn't find any sooner flights, unfortunately. You've got a lot to catch up to once we get back to the States. Some stations asked if they could..." you couldn't hear anything anymore.

How could you be so stupid? It was only then that you realized how far you've let go of yourself.

You knew you were leaving. At some point. But it still definitely snuck up on you. You've been so in love that you forgot the cruelty of your world. You've been in a shared dream that you've completely forgotten about your own.

You didn't know how you ended up at Erling's place, but you did. You walked in, your feet leading you to where he usually was in the living room. It was familiar. Too familiar.

You didn't say a single word. You just laid on the couch, your head on his thigh. He didn't say anything either.

You stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but just a minute later, Erling spoke.

"What's wrong?" His voice was so quiet he was almost whispering. You unravelled. Completely came undone.

You got up, buried your head in chest and just sobbed. You didn't see an end to it. Not in the near future at least. Startled, Erling tries to look at your face, placing both his hands on your wet cheeks.  

"Hey, look at me" he whispers. You try to hold it in to try and have a conversation about it.

But what were you going to say? That you couldn't stay? That you were leaving him after the six months worth a lifetime and more? That you weren't taking his sisters to the park next Sunday? Not going to his game next Monday either? That you were returning his clothes that were practically yours? That you were never waking up next to him again? Not partying with his teammates after every win? That you'll move on and find someone else eventually, but never a love like you've had with him?

You could never.

It takes insane self control to take a steady breath to speak one single coherent sentence. You looked at your hands as his eyes studied your puffy face.

"My plane leaves on Wednesday. To LA" you risk a look at his face and it's as if his life crumbled. In a split second, Erling is up on his feet and chuckling. You start crying again, covering your face with your hands.

"That's all?" He laughs. You look up at him and stand up to walk to him.

"You're crying because you're leaving for a few-"

"No! Not a few days, Erling! I'm going back to the US because my whole life is there! Your whole life?! Here!" You scream at him, tears streaming down your face. You let out a few sobs.

"So? We'll make it work" he shrugs and you roll your eyes at his state of denial. You knew. He knew, too.

You won't work. Ever. Not when your lives were across the world from one another.

"Yeah and how is that?" You impatiently cross your arms and wipe your nose with the sleeve of your sweater.

He looks at you for a long moment in a way that cut your heart a million times. Your lips shake and you turn away from him.

You feel his arms around you from behind almost immediately. He keeps you on your feet. You feel him kiss your temple gently, as if reassuring you that it'll be alright.

But it will not. It will never be.

"We'll find a way. We will" even he sounds unsure now and it breaks you. It really shatters your wellbeing.

You let yourself cry as Erling just held you in his safe arms. You try to gather yourself, but you fail for the next ten minutes. Once you succeed, you guide Erling to sit next to you on the couch.

"Erling" you call his name even though he was right next to you. You take his hand and hold it with both of your own.

"Once I leave Manchester" you start. You couldn't control the blurriness in your eyes any longer, so you just let a tear roll down your cheek.

"I'm never coming back" you look up at him. You wished you hadn't, because his face fell once the words left your mouth. You could tell it was the first time it really hit him.

It really hit him hard. In just two days from now, you'll only be another pretty celebrity in someone else's phone. Running from interview to interview, meeting guys way better than him. Guys who could actually play guitar and know how songwriting works. Guys who can actually be there. Guys that were not tied by a football career across the globe from you.

"Erling, I can't come see you in breaks because I never have any other than one or two days. You deserve someone who can actually be here for you-"

He cuts you off by pulling you into his chest, holding you so tight that it was becoming harder to breath. You just stopped talking. Not bearing to break him or yourself any further.

"You're the only one I want. Even if you leave, that will never ever change. Don't tell me I deserve someone better. Don't tell me that I will find someone who could make my heart beat the way you make it do" he begs and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You didn't sob. You were way too tired. You just let the tears silently find their way down your face.

Erling was wrong. You'll never find a guy better then he is. You loved teaching him how to play the guitar every time he visited the studio, and he didn't know much about songwriting, but he was the inspiration behind your entire upcoming album.

None of you could say it. None of you could come to terms with it and actually face it. You just held each other as if it was your last day on earth.

Waking up the next day next to Erling didn't feel the same. It didn't make your heart race from excitement and happiness. He didn't kiss your face until you yelled at him to stop, your laughter filling his house.

The rest of the day was spent like normal, though. You were skeptical at first when Erling woke up and was acting like nothing had happened the night before. He didn't seem sad. Or like this was technically your last day together. But as the day went on, you appreciated having one last day with him instead of just crying all day.

You went out for a walk at the park Erling took you to when you first met. Laughed at a cat fight over a bird. Sat under a big tree and held hands while taking in the view around you. Went with Erling to his training session afterwards and cheered him on like you always did. After training, you just went home and Erling immediately got to cooking after a quick shower. You watched his every move from where you sat on the kitchen island.

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night just acting blind to the fact that once you left, you were never coming back to him. Holding hands, listening to his heart beat, rewatching your favorite movie, talking about random topics and sharing your opinions on them.

But time never stopped for anyone. Or anything for that matter. It was so cruel that it kept going until one in the morning. Until you had to leave. And it still kept going as you detangled yourself from Erling.

Suddenly, the atmosphere got heavy. Your feet felt like they couldn't walk you out of his door. Your heart didn't seem to take it.

Erling places his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He really tried to not cry when it was time, but it was just too much. It was a lot to handle his first ever true love to end just like this.

"Erling" you call him shakily, but he's sobbing at this point. You sat back down next to him, not knowing what to do. He stops himself from crying all of a sudden and gets up. You follow.

"I'll drive you back" he says quietly. You don't object. You follow him to his car.

The drive to your place was awfully quiet. It was too quiet. Every few minutes, you tried stealing a look at him. Checking if he was okay. But you were just kidding yourself. How could he be okay? How could you?

He steps out of his car once he parks in your house's driveway. You do so too. You walk around the car to meet him by the driver's door.

You take his hands and he holds yours. You look up at him and muster a smile. One tugs at his lips too. It was sad, what you were going through. But beautiful. It was all so beautiful nothing will ever compare to it.

He leans in and kisses you. So passionately you almost scream in agony at the thought of it being the last time. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, hoping to make him feel an ounce of how he made you feel.

You don't pull away from each other for what seemed like an eternity. But when you do, you knew it was a piece of yourself that you've lost and will never be able to restore.

"I love you, y/n" Erling whispers.

"I love you, Erling" you whisper back.

With that, you turn away and walk quickly to your door, as if to outrun the pain. But you knew better than that.

Once your front door shuts, Erling quickly gets into his car, coming completely undone. He cries his heart out, hitting the steering wheel and cursing his mind for playing a reel of the best six months of his life.

You do too. You curse yourself for loving him. You curse yourself for knowing what it's like to be held by him. What it's like to kiss him. Feel him. Hear him talk or watch him cook. Your heart hurts. Your chest hurts too. Your eyes won't stop flooding with tears. You hold the necklace he gave you a few months ago as if you were holding on to him.

Somehow, the next day came a long. Your assistant and manager helped pack the car with you. They doesn't ask about your puffy eyes or sick demeanor. They naturally connected the dots. They knew about you and Erling. Everyone did.

You let yourself silently cry in the backseat on the way to the airport, hoping your manager and assistant don't hear or notice.

After checking in and on your way to security, you hear someone call your name. You turn around to see Jack, John, and Ruben. You smile at them. Genuinely.

"Hey" you greet them, giving them each a quick hug. You ignore the heart ache from not seeing Erling with them.

You two said goodbye last night anyway.

"We couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye in person" John tells you and you smile at them.

"It was fun knowing you guys. Thank you for everything. I never thought I'd make any friends in my time here honestly" you admit.

"Don't let your newly found Brit side die once you get back to America" Jack warns and everyone laughs. Including yourself.

You shake your head and wave at them. They all smile and wave back to you as you start walking backwards.

"I'll stay in touch and watch your games still!" You assure them before turning away to follow your manager and assistant.

And that's how you ended up in a plane, looking out at the clouds, crying as your mind raced with a million thoughts. a million what ifs and would'ves. You thought you won't live long after that heartbreak. You couldn't keep going like this.

But you didn't. As your manager told you, your schedule was full once you got back. You woke up every morning, got your makeup and hair done before running out the door for your scheduled interviews, album shoots, recordings, and many other things you had to do before your album came out.

You still cried yourself to sleep for weeks, though. But it slowly got better. You focused on your work. Your friends. Yourself. You tried your best to not give up. He wouldn't have wanted that for you. Ever.

When your album finally dropped, it was your best one yet. It broke records you never thought you'd break and so many people were enjoying it all across the world. The week your album dropped was a dream turned into reality after two years of constant hard work.

As part of your promotions, you sat in one of the many interviewee chairs you had sat in before. You got comfortable as the interviewer asked you all sorts of questions and you answered them like you always did, wittily yet sufficiently, making the tiny crowd laugh in their seats as they watched.

"About your new album" the interviewer starts and the whole room cheers. You cheer too.

"It seems to be following some sort of plot line, as if telling a story in a way" he continues and you nod along, confirming his theory.

"What's it really about?" The interviewer asks hopefully. You already decided how much you were going to tell the public, so the question didn't surprise you at all.

"About a year ago, I was writing this album in Manchester, UK, and I met this guy while I was there" you start and the room erupts with cheers again. You smile at them before going on.

"We fell for each other a bit too hard" you laugh lightly and the interviewer nods, laughing along.

"But I had to come back to the States and he had to stay in the UK, so" you sigh towards the end.

It was moments like these when you allowed yourself to think about him. About everything that happened last year. You never allowed yourself past just a thought crossing your mind.

But when you actually talked about it, you allowed yourself more than just that. You allowed yourself to remember the little details. To miss him and wonder how he was doing. You've met some guys since then, but Erling had already set the bar impossibly high for any of them to even see.

In Manchester, Erling was still being the star player he is. Since you've left, he had won his first Premier League with ManCity. He still thought about you before, during, and after each game. He kept up with all your news. Watching you shine from afar when you were once in between his arms. He wished you knew how proud he was of you. Of how well your album was doing. That everywhere he went in Manchester, it was being played somewhere.

That night, he watched your interview in bed, his phone resting on the pillow where your head used to rest. He watches you talk about your album and he thinks of how he would've celebrated its success with you. But all he did was smile at his phone screen when you did and hoped you were doing okay off of it too. He prayed every night and everyday that fate will eventually bring you two back together somehow. Still the same, but under different and better circumstances. You prayed for that too.

But until then, all you had was the memories you had together, replaying in your heads and reminding you of the only time you truly felt alive.

[samieree]

Hii, could you please write Heimdall x reader where she dreams in learning how to fight and one day he tries to teaches her, but she is having dificulties and gets angry, insulting him wich ends up in some hate sex? Thank you a lot

I'm sorry, I don't feel like to write smuts last days, but I hope it's still a good one-shot and you'll like it 🙈 Maybe I'll try later, when I'm in the mood again! And sorry again!

~

As far as you remembered, you always wanted to know how to fight, how to protect yourself. You even spoke about it often, often enough that the person sitting usually next to you - the person who knew how to fight - finally had enough. “I got it the first time you said it.” Heimdall said, sitting next to you and eating bread with cheese.

“I don’t think so.” You murmured in answer and looked away, at einherjers that were close to start a battle.

“You suggest something?” He asked, looking at you, but you didn’t look back. You heard him sighing heavily and murmuring something under his breath, before he got up. “Oh, you were suggesting something.” He started walking away. When you didn’t go after him, he stopped and looked at you. “What are you waiting for? You won’t get a special invitation. Or kiss on the forehead when you get your ass kicked.”

“Hey!” You got up and walked after him. “I don’t ask to be a punching bag, but to learn how to fight. If you don’t understand the difference, I will look for a teacher somewhere else.”

“Yes, yes, of course, sunshine.”

You two walked to the training ground. First, Heimdall was explaining to you the basics, like how you should stand, move your body and things like that. Then how to throw punches and how to defend yourself. It’s easy to believe that he would actually be a good teacher. But… But after the fifth time you landed on the floor you started getting angry. How are you supposed to learn, when all the time you land on the floor this or either way?

Maybe he doesn’t know the difference between a punching bag and a student?

“Come on, get up. You should be thankful that I even agreed.” He said. You snorted under your breath, but got back up. But before you could even shake off sand from your clothes, you again landed on the ground with a soft scream.

“I wasn’t ready!” You shouted at him, sitting up. And again, sand all over you… You’ll never wash it from your hair. “You should always be ready.”

“‘You should always be ready’.” You mocked him. “You’re an awful teacher.” You talked back, getting back up. “No, I’m done ‘training’ with you!” You shouted as you saw him walking at you again. But he didn’t stop, still with a smile on his face he was walking at you even faster.

You started to run away, you were totally done with landing on sand. You wanted to learn how to fight, not how to land on the floor over and over again.

“Fuck off!” You were close enough to get away from the training ground, but then Heimdall was close enough to embrace you from behind. “Let me go!”

“Sunshine, you can’t win all the time.” It was even more annoying, because he was taller than you, so he easily lifted you up close to his chest so that your legs didn’t touch the ground.

“And who says that?!” You started to fidget in his embrace, but couldn’t break free. “Let me go, you damn tease!”

“Oh, you love me because I win all the time.” He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek from behind. “You’re done?”

“NO!” You fidget more and manage to kick him a bit. Well, you at least left the dark prints of your soles on his white clothes. “Hey!”

“LET ME GO!”

“Okay, I’m done with you.” Still holding you he starts to walk somewhere. You didn’t stop fighting against his grip, even if you couldn’t do much. You didn’t even pay attention to where he was taking you, you realised that only then, when you landed on the soft mattress of his bed. He leaned over you, kneeling on the bed. “Calmed down?”

“Get off me! You…!” You didn’t get to finish this sentence because his soft lips landed on yours, unfortunately tasting some sand. You let him do it, it would be hard to say no to kisses…

“Done with fighting?” His nose softly moved against your cheek before he left some kisses on your cheeks and jaw. “Or rather insults, I wouldn’t call it a fight…”

As an answer you tried to kick him in the crotch with your knee, but unfortunately he dodged it, placing his hand on your thigh.

“This I have to give you: You have the soul of a warrior.” He said with a chuckle. “And you’re still an asshole.” Saying that you moved your hands up his chest, finally placing them at his shoulders. “With a few advantages, but still an asshole.” Now your hands were on his cheeks, caressing them gently.

“Still I have more advantages than you.” You rolled your eyes at those words. Your anger was slowly vanishing as you were so close to him. Feeling his warmth through the clothes and from the inside because of soft kisses.

“And you’re an awful teacher.”

“I promise to throw you on the ground gentler next time.” You raised your eyebrow as he said that. Heimdall saw that when he slightly moved back to take off your blouse. “Okay, I promise to be gentler and not so cocky next time.”

You smiled and sat up, joining your lips, taking off your blouse by yourself.

~

-> general masterlist -> God of War: Ragnarök masterlist

[toomuchracket]

girly is home sick one day before they’re together and he just keeps like making a point to walk past her desk waiting for her to come in, when one of her work besties clocks it and goes. oh she called in sick today. to which 1- he tries to back peddle being like “i was just on a stroll of the office stretching my legs, not looking for anyone” (not fooling anyone either). and 2 stops for way too many sick person supplies on the way home and brings her a little care package with like meds, sweets and soup or something.

i'm seeing this as being like at the point where you're fairly good friends but still trying to remain cool in front of each other lmao. you weren't getting the train in together this morning anyway because matty had breakfast radio press to do in central london already, so when you don't show up in the office at your usual time he's a little bit concerned - whatever, though, maybe a train's delayed, or you had an appointment, or some other trivial thing he doesn't know about. an hour passes, he wanders past your desk again, and you're still not there. same again forty-five minutes later, so he texts to ask if you're alright. there's no reply - maybe you're on the train? but no, as evidenced when he walks past your desk half an hour after the last time he did and the radio promotion girl at the next desk down is like "yo, matty, she's not here"; he's scrambling to sound nonchalant like "who's not here", and the girl smirks like "the person whose desk you've been walking back and forth to the whole morning", and he's like "have i? i've just been having a wander. knee keeps seizing. gotta keep it moving and all!", and the girl is like "uh huh. well, anyway, i answered her phone call earlier to say she wouldn't be in, and she sounded awful, bless her. she thinks it's sinusitis. doesn't know when she'll be back". matty's internally both distraught at the concept of not seeing you and extremely worried, and he's like "oh, that's terrible. should we send flowers?", and the girl is like "i mean... she's only been off less than a day", and he's like "yeah ok good point. well, thanks" and trudges back to his office quite glumly. he perks up a bit on his lunch break, though - nipping into the tesco express to buy cigs, he has the genius idea of getting you a little care package and dropping it off to you on his way home, so he grabs some chicken soup, and cold and flu meds, and nice tea, and honey, and chocolate, and a cute little bunch of tulips (and has to run back in to buy a gift bag lol). it takes you ages to answer the intercom and buzz him up when he rings the doorbell to your flat that evening, but you open the door so quickly matty suspects you were waiting by it for him, and he kinda loves that. you don't look well, your face sadder and more wan than usual, but he thinks you're adorable, all messy-haired and sleepy and cosy in your massive hoodie; your face lights up when you see him, and then goes all 🥺 when he hands you the little care package. you're like "thank you. this is really sweet, you didn't have to. but i appreciate it", and matty's like "just wanted to see how you were. missed you today" - you smile shyly like "yeah, i saw you texted, but my headache was too bad to look at my phone and reply. missed you too. was looking forward to hearing about the radio show at work today", and matty's like "it was good. you think you'll be back in a couple of days? we can listen to it together on the drive in". you smile and say "hopefully. m'feeling better after seeing you, so maybe if i keep thinking about you i'll be cured by then", and matty can do nothing but giggle like a lovesick teenage girl; he's like "darling i think the meds you've had are making you loopy", and you're like "nah, i'm lucid" and wink, and he teases like "well maybe you're more ill than we thought. i'd better go home and let you recuperate". but that's so difficult for him when you sigh and say "shame. but yeah, go and have your tea. and if you're not busy... call me later? talking to you is the most exciting thing that's happened to me all day", and matty's like "omg of course yeah i'll call you in a couple of hours. take it easy, darling. i'll see you soon", and he SKIPS to his car after you say goodbye and blow him a kiss. cute <3

[yuu-kumeii]

"What do you think you'll get for White day, [Y/N]?"

"Oh, probably a box of chocolates or something heart themed"

You don't actually know and for good reason too. For as long as you've been married, you can never exactly pin down your husband's train of thought when it comes to his love language. Love language being the term that he uses to justify the ungodly amount of things he buys you on any available occasion. It's not wrong call it his love language but you think there would be a word to describe the sheer amount of excuses he has compiled in that mind of his for every gift he brings home for you.

Unfortunately, as much as you want to use the word spoil to describe it. No word can encapsulate the excuses ~and~ the frequency of these presents. They're like objects that suddenly appear in your house like they've been there this whole time, but you know they haven't. Everytime one appears, you ask your husband and get the confirmation that "Yes, they are for you and no I will not take no for answer" before the culprit skips off to work like he didn't just buy you completely cute but unnecessary.

So that's why you can earnestly say you don't actually know. Because White day day? You know, the holiday where it's customary to give something back to the one you love? The one holiday that reciprocates care for the bond you have with another, that White Day? Trying to guess would be like trying to guess how you die, other than the most obvious option, you can't just guess and know whether or not you're right. But now that you think about it, maybe this Valentine's day will be the one where you get a nice, regular sized box of chocolates and maybe even a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Though you hope that this time, he'll let the store clerk help him with arranging it. Whatever you're getting on this Valentine's day might be completely ordinary and similar to the ones your coworkers get from their significant others....

Oh who are you kidding? It's probably going to be extra.

But you have no time to think about that because it's right back to work after all the Valentine's talk around the office. Well at least you try to ignore it but with the obvious flower decor and suprise partners visiting to see their significant other hard at work, it's hard not to let your mind spiral once again to dwell on just what your unpredictable husband might get you. Yet you persist in your work and tune out everything around you for the time being. Hopefully until the end of your shift which may or may not be earlier than usual given the chipper yet intimidatingly efficient work ethic of your coworkers today. If only they were like this every other day.... Oh well, you'll take what you can get.

The workload vanished as fast as it came, everyone was ready to pack up and leave to celebrate what was left of Valentine's day with their partners. Some already left once they've finished their share while the rest opted to stay for a bit of chit chat, more discussion on what their partners would get them and all the more reason you feel lost in your answer to the various questions thrown your way. It's no secret to anyone that your husband would sell his kidney if it meant getting you something special, the thought came up so frequently that it became a running joke at your expense. Not that you really minded since the jokes were more than true to reality itself, you can't count the amount of times your husband burst in your office in a panic just because you accidentally left your lunch at home. He'd pout while telling you to be more careful as if he hasn't left his fair share of packed lunches, though you do think he might be doing it on purpose just to see and brag about you to his friends.

You've really been drifting in your thoughts the whole work day because the second you take in your surroundings, there were only a handful of people left. Gone were the endless conversations and the bright office light, replaced with a sunset glow signalling for your departure. Absentmindedly bidding the rest goodbye, you walk into the elevator and descend. Alone with your thoughts once more but not for long, as the doors open to reveal an empty reception desk. Man, you really have lost track of time. The sun starts to bid its farewell yet it doesn't stop the sound of people getting pulled into pastry shops for a last minute White day gift. Well it might not be last minute but it does look like it considering the greatly reduced amounts of people. You remember just how crowded the shopping mall was, partners and students alike rushing to find something for their significant other. How funny it reminded you of yourself in high school, who would've thought the amount of stress it took just to find the perfect Valentine's Day chocolates for your then school crush. The same crush who ended up spoiling you for White Day, telling you to wait for his graduation because White Day wasn't the only day he wanted to spoil you. Such a cheesy line, how did you ever see him as anything but a dork? You know the answer to that yet remembering it would be too embarrassing.

In the midst of all your reminiscing, you didn't realize you were already home until you almost tripped on the first step. But not to worry, you've done that at least 2 times eversince you both moved in so you're probably almost immune to the pain.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

With nothing else to stall with, you finally make your way inside the desolate house. The lights still off and nothing out of place, just how you left it this morning. To be honest, you feel like it looks a bit sad. But that's probably because it's White Day and your husband is probably just on his way home now, the empty house makes you feel like a single woman but not to worry because that will change at one point of the evening. In the meantime, you settled for a shower to get your mind off the White Day everything. Even though your house has nothing even relating to it, the anticipation of your husband showing up to finally answer the question that's been nagging at the back of your head is killing you. Once changed, you make your way to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat while waiting for—

Knock

Knock

Knock

Oh no.

He's here.... and doesn't choose to just walk inside? He wants you to open the door for him and what? See for yourself what he has planned? Does he want you to open the door to surprise you? To tackle you inside? What if he doesn't have a gift and he just gives you a hug? Nothing wrong with that but all that stress for a hug? Well, it might not be but what if—

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Oh right he's still there, still waiting for you to open the door. Well, here goes nothing—

"Welcome ho— eh—"

This was not what you were expecting, this was far from it actually. You knew your husband wouldn't dare forget something like White Day but neither did you think his surprise would be this well surprising. Now you don't actually know what this is supposed to be but what you can say is that it's a lot, very overwhelming because if it weren't for the doorframe you're sure it would tower over you no matter what height you are. The thing that surprised you the most was the fluffy teddy bear face that greeted you instead of your husband, the teddy bear had a good enough face but you'd rather kiss the love of your life than the ominous blank face of a stuffed bear that clearly is one size too large for your door. Not only the bear, but there was an ocean of red, pink, and white around it. Bouquets themed after one color each and chocolates of different shapes and flavors with their boxes to match, there were boxes of what you assume are pastries from the shopping district coupled with enough cards to last till your 25th anniversary yet even all that probably doesn't scrape the surface of this White Day gift supreme package or whatever it is. But behind it all was the sheepish expression of your husband who politely asks to be let inside so none of what he's carrying would bury you, as someone who values their life you step aside to let him in. Though you should've seen it coming, nothing could prepare you for the look of absolute disarray once your husband found out he couldn't just waltz in and have the gifts phase through the wall. He looks so confused now that he has to actually think of how he's going to get him and the pile inside the house, you can see it behind his eyes. The desolate mind behind it too tired to find an answer, to the point he felt the need to look at you with a helpless face just begging you to help him.

And being the helpful lover you are, you laugh at his dismay before giving him an amused expression. It isn't until he starts pouting outside in the night breeze unwilling to step inside until the pile gets in first that you roll your eyes playfully before telling him to put the pile down so you both can take it in more manageable bundles. Your husband puts the pile down and watches as you take the top of his haul into your hands to place it on your kitchen counter, still watching as you go back to get more. It's ok though, because you can see the gears turning in his head for a second which finally prompts him to start mirroring your actions. Not long after, the mass is successfully moved inside. Now that you have a proper look at it, most of these things look like they've been kept in good condition. Not that you think the quality would be in shambles but you expected at least a little bit of wear and tear considering the time it took for these to get here, assuming he bought them during the prime time for White Day sales that is.

Oh how wrong you are, but you'll find that out soon. Right when your thoughts start to spiral, your husband walks downstairs clean and ready to explain himself. Well maybe you'll be the one to make him but that's besides the point.

"Ok... Care to explain why this pile of chocolates, flowers and cards is about three times your size?" The calm smoothness of your voice cannot mask the entirety of your awe but it's enough to have your husband stop in his place like a deer caught in headlights, you're not even looking at him at this point. Turned towards the pile of chocolate that definitely should be in the fridge by now and yet not making a move to do so. A moment of silence ensues before your husband answers.

"They said that if I got you all this it'll make you love me more..."

Huh.

"Wait, who are 'they'?"

"The people at the shopping district, I didn't have time to get you a gift in the morning so I went there on the way home and then the people there came up to me saying how they have 'the perfect White Day surprise for your partner' and about how you'd expect something big from me today.... So I bought everything they recommended...."

This guy. This pure, dumb, cute, whatever thing you can call him—! You can't believe he got ganged up like that! How dare those shopkeepers take advantage of your poor defenseless husband on White Day! You can imagine the smirks on those guys, probably proud of themselves about the last minute sale they managed to get. All because your husband was manipulated into thinking you'd love him any less if he came home empty handed, the audacity of some people! You'll give them a piece of your mind when you get the chance—

"Are you mad?"

You must've let it show on your face that you're planning to probably beat up some poor store clerk right after White Day, but it's fine because he will never know the thoughts behind the face. And honestly, you aren't mad. Far from it actually, you feel so loved. Because what kind of person would willingly follow the suggestions of multiple shopkeepers from different shops on gifts for their wife? Well, your husband unsurprisingly but it's in the name of love so everything should be fine. Though you will make sure to tell him that just one White Day package is enough of a surprise already, not to mention the fact that you might have to share the chocolates with friends and family if you don't want them to be wasted.

"No of course not, c'mere... "

With light footsteps you stop right in front of him, gazing into his eyes with a loving look. You smile and take his face into your hands, his breath hitches at the distance between you. Funny how you do this on almost every 'special occasion' and yet he still acts as if it's the first time you've done anything this intimate. Besides that, you continue to close the distance before giving him a kiss. One that prompts him to put his hands on your hips out of reflex to pull you closer, a light hue spread across his face making him look extra cute. But before he could reciprocate, you pull away causing him to chase your lips. A giggle was pulled from you at the sight of your big strong husband all pouty and flush, looking at you with eyes that screamed for you to continue kissing him. Unfortunately for him, it seems you have other plans because not only did you pull away from the kiss, you pulled yourself away from him entirely. Your husband looks so lost, even more so when you turn away from him to pick up a box of chocolates. Opening it and popping one into your mouth before looking back at him innocently.

"What? We have all this chocolate now, can't let it go to waste"

Your smile dropping into an amused grin as you kept eating the chocolates, leaving your husband to once again take a few seconds to process what you just said. Finally gathering his bearings, your husband huffs at you. Pout still present yet his demeanor now turned playful, you know what he's going to do.

"Why you—! Get over here and gimme that kiss!"

This was better than what you could ever expect.

ATSUMU <3333, BOKUTO <333, HINATA, Kita, Osamu, LEV <33, Kageyama, Oikawa (probably so proud of himself), Kuroo (Definitely proud too), Iwaizumi, All hq boys probably did this at some point let's be real

[ofallthingsnasty]

I need more Evan content in my life TT_TT would you consider writing something about him following the reader home and stalking them from his POV?

Aah, I'm so happy you like him!! He's my big, pseudo-soft creep vuv💕 I made him more soft than creepy in this, because he really thinks he is being cute and the good guy™

fic referenced (be sure to check the warnings before reading)

tags: yandere, stalking, minor nameless bill cameo (squint and you'll miss it... he's the mechanic), fem reader, chubby reader, minors dni but this is sfw, tagged as terato bc evan is a werewolf but that doesn't really come up here word count: 1.2k

Never has anyone been as happy as Evan to sit behind the wheel of their car, just waiting in the parking lot of the local grocery store. His favorite station is softly announcing tomorrow’s weather as he drums his fingers on the leather, eyes trained on the brightly-lit entrance of the shop. Waiting. Anticipating.

You went in just about five minutes ago, an hour before closing. 

He loves it when you do your weekly grocery run after work - it’s takes the edge off every long day when you dip out of your apartment with that familiar shopping bag slung over your shoulder, keys dangling from one hand as you make some last-minute adjustments to your digital shopping list. You always go to the same store, usually around the same time as well. It’s so easy to keep track of your routine and watching you putter about has become one of his guilty pleasures, following you to and fro with his car, on foot, on his dingy bike.

You’re not using a shopping cart today, opting to tuck one of the plastic baskets into the crook of your arm instead. Ah, your car is broken, can’t carry much more if you have to haul it all home. Of course, he already knows that - you had told him yourself and he is still delighted by the fact that you’d readily share the information with him. You had been so cute, so grateful when he had recommended you a mechanic, someone he could trust not to upcharge you for whatever it was that was broken (even though his attitude could be horrid - but you are a tough cookie, he knows that. You can handle a little bit of attitude thrown in your direction.)

He checks the time again, waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass. Ten minutes. He’s always aiming for ten minutes. A short list, just a little run to store for some milk, really, and he gets to see how you crunch your face together when you search for something on the shelves, gets to watch you being lost in thought, oblivious to the world around you. Sometimes he treats himself to waiting in line behind you in check-out, eyeing your little haul and listening to the sweet little thank you you chirp at the cashier.

He doesn’t always duck in when you do - no, no, too obvious, really - but today he will. You’ve been to the shop less than usual in the last week, undoubtedly saving up some money for your repairs and he misses you, your face, your voice. 

Evan sighs as his eyes dart over to the clock again. Finally. He shoots out of the car like he’s been bitten by something and doesn’t even bother to grab a basket for himself. Just milk. He’s here for just a carton of milk, anyway.

He finds you by the fruit, critically eyeing some apples and it takes him every bit of strength not to stop and stare. Just milk. Maybe some gummy bears if you keep yourself too occupied with bruised produce. 

He doesn’t want to miss you at the check-out, after all. You sure take your time today. Evan has gone over the different types of milk (plant-based included) twice before you finally dip into another section. Full-fat, low-fat, almond, oat, no milk at all - it’s all the same to him and he just grabs one off the shelves as he sees you trotting over to the freezers. He knows damn well where you’ll go to next and he hurries over, positioning himself as though he has some reason to be here, his eyes flitting between on- and off-brand ravioli as if it matters.

It doesn’t take long until you tip into the canned goods section and - oh, you’ve noticed him. Your free hand waves awkwardly at him as you two look at each other and you mouth a cute little ‘hi’ to him. He smiles and does the same, his heart soaring in his chest at the gesture. So, so cute.

The moment is over way sooner than he’d like it to be but you’re probably tired after work, so you turn your attention back to your list, biting your lower lip in thought. Poor thing.

You’re always so lost in thought, with an iron grip on your smartphone as you check your little shopping list. It’s as though you’re all alone in the big store, the way you softly mumble to yourself and listfully touch the packaging to inspect the product.

Evan almost forgets to look back to the ravioli before you turn to him again.

It’s the only interaction he allows himself for the evening. He wants to ask you about your day so bad, wants to know what you’ll be baking (cooking?) with your carefully picked apples, but it’s just too obvious - he consoles himself with the fact that he’ll get to stare at you while waiting in line for the check-out.

He lets you go for the rest of your grocery run, not even watching as you complete your little list. Brave. He’s being so brave about pretending to care for some stupid candy while you probably compare the prices on the weekly deals close to the register - he counts to ten and fists a bag of licorice, peeking around the corner to find you shovelling the content of your shopping basket onto the conveyor belt. Jackpot.

Evan takes a spot behind an older man, close enough to really watch you and far enough to not be too blatant about it, and lets himself really drink the sight of you in.

You wear something cute. Not that your usual work attire isn’t - there is just something about you in something comfortable, something casual that makes his heart swell in his chest. A hoodie. That ridiculously adorable pair of printed sweatpants you have. Or, when the weather allows it, something shorter: a dress, a skirt, shorts. And today, he is oh-so-lucky: you’re in his favorite short number, something that makes the wait so much more worth it. If you let him, he’d buy you a million of the same garment in a dozen colors. 

The conveyor belt stutters forward and you greet the cashier with your sweetest voice. He wants to melt on the spot.

He thinks often about what it would be like to complete such a mundane task with you, as a little family. You with a fat little baby on your hip, pushing the cart while he loads it up. What meals would you enjoy together, what would you try for the first time? He knows what you like to cook for yourself already but he doesn’t know the exact recipes. Would you share them with him? Oh, you would.

He almost misses it when the cashier tells you your total and you rummage through your wallet to hand them some bills.

Only one bag of groceries today, barely stuffed. You hurry the straps over the fat of your shoulder, whistling out an exhale in an adorable manner. It seems heavy - he wants to carry it home for you, wants to at least help you if your car isn’t working. But he can’t - you don’t know him like that so Evan is left to stand and stare while you trudge through automatic doors, headed back home. But you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it, he thinks. Soon enough it’s going to be him who carries that bag for you, who gets you your favorite pesto brand from the top shelf. For now, he’ll just follow you home to make sure you’re safe. 

[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- Part 6

masterlist After going to Pablo's place last week he's been really busy with physio at the club so we haven't talked quite as much which has been kind of a good thing as it has allowed me to process what happened when I left his. Sure a kiss on the cheek is probably normal to some people but with Pablo it really threw me off as I've realised that I have feelings for him but of course we are just friends so all of the things that the kiss made me feel I need to bury them deep down and forget about them. Having a few days with less contact has helped me to push away my feelings as I'm not being reminded of them as often. Today however Pablo is coming over to my place as it's on his way home and don't get me wrong I'm happy to see him but I'm a bit nervous as I don't know if I'll make things awkward. 

Last night I made my brother help me tidy my apartment as I have been slacking a bit with cleaning as its quite hard for me to run the hoover around and reach certain shelves to put things back or dust. The place definitely isn't fully clean but it's better than it was and I know Pablo won't really care it was more just for me. This morning I also realised I don't have much food or at least not healthy food so I had to drag myself to the nearest store to get some things which was more difficult than I anticipated but I made it home in one piece eventually. By the time I got home I was already exhausted as it takes a lot of effort to walk anywhere now and because I'm not training everyday I'm not as fit as I was a few months ago. 

Before Pablo arrived I took some time to lay down but I didn't get long as it took me so long to get to and from the store. I had about 15 minutes before the buzzer to my apartment went off and I allowed Pablo in before texting him to tell him I'd come down and meet him as my apartment isn't the easiest to find. When I made it to the lobby Pablo was waiting for me with a big smile on his face and something in his hand which he handed to me telling me it was a smoothie from this place he likes to go to sometimes after training. I thanked him and after I tasted the smoothie per his request we made our way up to my apartment.

As we walked in I locked the door behind us but when I turned round Pablo had disappeared from my sight. It didn't take me long to find him though because as soon as I turned the corner into the living room he was stood looking at some of the pictures I have hanging up. He was looking at the collage of pictures I have up which has a mixture of pictures of me with my friends and family and some of me from competitions mostly from when I was younger. I don't look at the pictures that much as I'm used to them being here so I forget that other people find it interesting to look at childhood photos. 

"How old were you in this picture?" Pablo asked looking at a picture of me receiving a medal at a competition while being surrounded by girls much taller than me

"I think I was 9 or maybe just turned 10 but the other girls were mostly 12 or 13" I said 

"Wow and you beat them all" he commented 

"Yeah pretty much since I started gymnastics I've been competing against girls much older than me" I explained 

"Thats so amazing you'll have to show me some videos of you doing gymnastics" he said 

"I can do that I have loads of videos on my laptop as I always have to analyse my performances afterwards" I said 

He looked at a few other pictures and made fun of how I would have my hair in two little pigtails pretty much at all times when I was little even when I didn't have much hair to put up. After he was done laughing at me I grabbed my laptop and let him pick some videos of my recent competitions for us to watch. He was so enthralled by all of the videos after every one he asked me to tell him what I was doing as we watched it again. I loved that he was taking such an interest as I know he doesn't really know anything about gymnastics but he was making an effort to learn and that means a lot as most people I meet don't seem to care at all. He wanted to know all about what it's like at a competition and how the scoring works so he could get as much of a full experience as possible without actually going to a competition. 

Since we've met I've been watching a lot more football and I've watched some compilations of Pablo playing too because I felt like I should know more and I was curious. I must say despite my lack of knowledge Pablo seems like an excellent player and hopefully one day I can see him play in person. I have never been into football or really watched much as I have always training or at competitions on weekend and when I wasn't I was always at my brothers races so it's never something that crossed my mind. While watching I tried to make sense of the rules but there were just some things that made no sense to me so I asked Pablo while we were talking about our sports. He did his best to explain everything and he told me more about his team so I knew who everyone was for when I next watch a game. 

We did other things for a while until Pablo told me that Barcelona were playing in the champions league so we put the game on and started watching it together. It didn't take long before I saw how truly passionate about football Pablo is because straight away he was shouting at the team and he got so annoyed when they conceded. I tried my best to offer a more positive outlook as Pablo kept saying the team were going to lose but it didn't help so I just watched. As the match progressed I got increasingly tired but I wanted to stay awake and watch the game; Pablo must've noticed this as he pulled me into his side and leaned my head against his shoulder to allow me to rest a bit. As we kept watching I rested my eyes a few times but I was always woken up again by Pablo but it was ok because the entire time he was tracing shapes on my side which was really relaxing.

The match eventually ended with a loss for Barcelona so Pablo wasn't happy but I tried my best to cheer him up and eventually I got him smiling and laughing again. Once he was happy we avoided talking about sports for a while instead we watched tiktoks until we were both laughing our asses off which really lightened the mood. Pablo's laugh is so infectious that once he started laughing I couldn't help myself and then we were done for we didn't stop laughing for a good 10 minutes. When we finally stopped we had to take a few minutes to each catch our breath and just calm down. 

"Have you ever been to a football match?" Pablo asked breaking the silence 

"No I haven't" I replied 

"Well I was going to watch the teams next home game this weekend would you want to come with me?" He asked 

"I'd love to but only if it's not a problem and you want me to" I said 

"Of course I want you there it will be fun I want to bring you to your first football game" he said 

"I suppose if I'm going to attend a football match it might as well be with a professional player" I laughed 

"Good I'll come and pick you up before the match and we'll go together and you can meet the rest of the boys" he said 

The thought of meeting the rest of Pablo's teammates is already making me anxious but I'm excited to go to a game in person and with Pablo who I know is dying to go and be with his friends it should be a fun night.