#THE THING IS. i met her less than a year ago but shes extremely important to me and i love talking to her

[iknaenmal]

okay. today i will go on a difficult mission. i might not come back (will ask i friend if they want to hang out)

[greyyson-but-no]

tell the world

genre | fluff

warnings | one kiss (not detailed), tiny mention of lockdown, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used, unedited

pairings | tommyinnit x editor!fem!reader; platonic!wilbur soot x reader

word count | around 1.1K

a/n | first tommy fic! promise I'm getting around to those requests I have the beginnings of them in my drafts!

the title of the video would just be “announcement” in all caps. it was dramatic, it was enticing and with both you and tommy in the thumbnail, everyone would know it was important and everyone would click on the video. the message would get to everyone that was a fan of either of you - or at least it had to get to as many people as possible. there was no point in hiding it anymore, now was the time.

you had met tommy a while ago. years and years ago, you had been a childhood friend of will’s, having grown up around him and his family and been a few years below him in secondary and primary. when he had started youtube and twitch, you had come to him about being his editor, and he had been more than happy to hire you. all throughout lockdown the two of you lived together, him streaming and filming and then you editing the vods and videos ready to post. you were easily best friend, and were around him all throughout the dream smp, when he met tommy.

it was around this time that you met tommy, too. him and wilbur’s characters were close and so they were drawn together which naturally meant you were too. both of you were similar ages and easily had a lot in common. then there was the first time the crimeboys met in real life, and of course, you were there. tommy han’t really seen you before, but was completely smitten around you. it was so out of character for him that you couldn’t- wouldn’t believe it was true when wilbur told you. (there were also behind the scenes clips of wilbur teasing tommy about being so smitten, but he would never let them see the light of day).

when tommy started filming so much that he didn’t have the time to edit his videos well enough for the viewer count he was getting each time, you happily stepped up. wilbur was slowly filming less and less with lovejoy starting and you needed something to do, and this was the perfect way to pass your time and make a bit of money (and spend more time with your crush)

then sorry boys started. they needed an editor and there you were. by now you were comfortable enough to put your face out onto the internet and so naturally had cameos in the videos, as well as being in the behind the scenes clips that were put together for the other sorry boys channels. it was also just before this that tommy had made a move. finally. wilbur and the rest of them had had enough of the flirting and the refusal to accept feelings from both parties, forcing tommy to just tell you already. which he did. it was sweet but its a story for another time.

that was about six months ago. you had managed to join them on all their escapades; amsterdam, france, hiring out a trampoline and water park, the whole lot. it was brilliant, all apart from one thing: trying to keep your relationship from being too obvious.

you were in every video. so was tommy. both of you were extremely touchy in the worst of times, let alone when you were having fun and there was only so much you could cut out of videos. somehow the two of you had to restrain from going too near each other otherwise the entire twitch and youtube community would blow up. it was so difficult. which was why you and tommy had given open. today was the day.

the camera was rolling. for now you were out of frame but in a few minutes you would be in the frame and by the evening, everyone would know about tommy and you. it was about damn time, though.

“i have a girlfriend!” tommy spoke, as soon as the camera started recording.

immediately, you burst into laughter at his words. he turned and looked at you with a questioning look, but you just shook your head, unable to speak. “i-” you paused, slowing down your breathing so you could speak, the laughter dying down. “i didn’t expect you to just say it so outwardly. i thought you would at least build up to it.”

he shrugged, still looking confused. “do you want me to build up to it?”

“no, no, just do it however you want, it was just sudden. that’ll be a good clip though.”

“‘course it will.” he grinned, shaking his head at you and turning back to the camera. “yes it’s true! it’s official! she’s actually right here next to me, and you do all know her. or at least, you should.”

he paused a moment. but then he didn’t start talking again, so you spoke up. “you going to continue?”

“no i don’t think so.”

you stood up from his bed, still staying out of frame but resting a hand on the back of his chair so he had to look up at you. “tommy, you might as well. i’ve spoke so much now that they almost definitely know it's me.”

he laughed softly, looking swiftly between you and the camera. and then suddenly he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down into his lap. well, now you were in the frame for sure. and sitting in tommy's lap for the whole world to see. you couldn't blame him, though, having gone so long without being able to show the world how much he loved you, of course he wasn't going to let go of you when the two of you finally told everyone.

"well now they know." tommy laughed, clutching your hand and looking one last time at you, then towards the camera. "boys, this is my girlfriend. the wonderful y/n."

you started laughing yet again, unable to contain your simple joy at his announcement. no more hiding, no more having to drop his hand in public or standing away from him so people didn't get suspicious. your head automatically fell into the comfort of the crook of his neck, smiling into the skin.

"what? everything alright?" he asked, squeezing your hand ever so slightly. "do you want me to turn the camera off?"

bringing your head out of his neck, you shook your head. "no no, i'm fine. continue explaining."

you only had to reassure him one more time that you were fine before he turned back towards the camera, grinning again with the same joy that was running through your veins, too. "this is more of a serious video than usual, I know, but neither of us could keep it in for much longer! we've been wanting to tell you all for so long but held back and now it's finally out there! anything you wanted to say?"

for a moment you thought, then when the correct words came into your head you spoke: "this video wasn't really because we wanted to be more transparent and open, but more so because we wanted to feel more comfortable on camera, which means being able to act like we would off camera. that in itself wouldn't be possible without telling the world we're together."

"yeah." tommy agreed.

"and we've both spoken about this for long time, weighing up the pros and cons of it, and overall- actually, there was a list wasn't there."

tommy laughed slightly, nodding. "there was a list, yes. i think it's downstairs, though."

you shrugged, resting your cheek on his head as you started speaking again. "oh well, it's for another time. basically, telling all of you guys wasn't a random decision that we made this morning. we've been actual adults and thought about this for a while now."

"yeah, exactly." he spoke. "anyway, i think that's it. if you've got anything else you wanted to say?" lastly, you thought for a little longer before shaking your head, smiling and tommy started speaking. "see you all later boys." he said goodbye and leaned forward a little, turning the camera off to stop recording.

almost immediately you shimmied into him more. waiting for him to tightly wrap his arms around your waist, and you were not disappointed when he did. quickly, you brought a hand up to his cheek, softly pressing your lips against his, eyes fluttering closed.

oh god how you loved this man. and now the world new it.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Tis the Damn Season

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Based on a request from the lovely @dorothleah, Matt and his childhood best friend have a realization at Christmastime.

warnings: smut adjacent times (it’s just spicy towards the end, nothing graphic), descriptions of family holidays (they’re positive), Christmas specific, swearing

A/n: ahhhhh this one was so difficult to write—I really hope I did the prompt justice. (Also, this is set early on in S1 but let’s just pretend that all the bombing stuff didn’t happen bc that would definitely overshadow Matt’s holidays. Plus Mrs. Cardenas was an Angel so she is still alive and living her best life somewhere outside of this piece because I said so.)

w/c: ~4k

Breathing deeply, you couldn’t help but smile as the bitter cold wind swirled around you. Despite the extreme temperatures, winter in New York was beautiful. Layers of silver clouds drifted through the city, muting the constant stream of artificial light into something less aggressive, more ethereal. The thin layer of snow covering every exposed surface created a gorgeous blank slate of sorts, like an untouched page in a child’s coloring book. Monotone and full of possibilities. It was a sight you missed dearly, so much so that your heart flipped every year when you stepped out of the airport and back into the city you were raised in.

California was beautiful too, of course–not that you’d gotten to see much of it between your 8 years of post-secondary school and 2.5 years of residency so far. Even summer breaks had been spent studying or interning, rather than visiting the gorgeous beaches or tourist attractions across the state. When you found yourself swamped with work and longing for a break, you never dreamed of California, though. Only of New York.

Which is why the winter holidays were so important to you now. This was the only opportunity you had to visit family, to visit Matt. Most years, you spent about a week with your family for Christmas and spent a few wonderful evenings with your beloved childhood-best-friend-turned-charitable-defense-attorney, but this year was unique.

After encouraging your parents to take a much needed vacation, you’d mentioned to Matt that you were struggling to find a hotel to house you for the holidays. Charming and protective man that he was, he was appalled that you hadn’t asked to stay with him instead–arguing passionately with you until you agreed to stay at his loft for a couple days rather than spend the holidays alone.

Which led you on the snow-laced journey from the baggage claim to Matt’s front door, which you studied apprehensively, hand frozen in a fist that hadn’t yet knocked. The fluttering in your stomach was inevitable, your nerves always acted up when you saw Matt, but it was especially intense when your mind was occupied with the knowledge that you’d be surrounded by him and his things for a weekend.

Blowing out a breath, you let your eyes fall shut as you knocked rapidly on the door, the percussive sound echoing the pulsing in your ears. Footsteps padded down the hallway towards you, halting at the door as it slowly creaked open.

“Hi Matty,” Your voice was quiet, your cheeks blooming with warmth as he grinned at you. His beautiful smile hadn’t changed at all, still revealing the wit and mischief of the 14 year old you’d met all those years ago at St. George College Prep.

His signature red glasses twinkled with the reflection of the flickering hallway lights. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

As the familiar joke vaporized your anxiety, you dove into his open arms with a squeal. He was as warm and muscular as ever, his arms tightening around you as if waiting for you to dissolve. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, basking in the comfort of his embrace and letting it melt a year of stress away.

While you were enjoying the first hug you’d received in too long, Matt remained almost rigid beneath your touch–his brain counting every second and wondering where the line would need to be drawn. He could have stayed in your grasp all day, but that wasn’t what “friends” did, right? Inhaling deeply, he pulled away from you.

“C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Taking your hand, Matt guided you down the hallway and into his apartment, the sight of which made you gasp.

Strings of multicolored lights were strung around the perimeter, wrapped around every available surface in a festive tangle. A small, but otherwise impressive, fir tree stood against the massive paneled windows, smattered with glittering ornaments and candy canes.

The air suddenly felt forced out of your lungs, your breath staggering like a newborn foal as you surveyed every inch of the apartment. When your parents had booked their holiday cruise, you’d been slightly devastated–which wasn’t fair of you, since you’d encouraged them to get away for the month, but that didn’t stop your heart from aching at the thought of the traditions you’d miss. Christmas was your parents’ favorite holiday, and they went all out each year–decorating the house with gorgeous poinsettias and tinsel, buying the largest tree they could find at the local farm, stringing lights around the entire house. The festive beauty of your family home was one of your favorite sights, and you weren’t ready for the absence of decor.

But the absence never came, because you had Matt, the most amazing best friend a girl could ask for. The man who knew you inside out, and had anticipated your reaction to skipping a family Christmas, taking it upon himself to make up for their departure.

Biting your lips as tears threatened to fall, you let Matt enfold you in another hug, a drop of moisture rolling down your cheek when his lips pressed against your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“You did all this for me? Matt, I–” Withdrawing from the shelter of his arms, you strode around the apartment, running your fingers along the wires Matt had painstakingly decked his apartment with.

“Before you get too grateful, you should know that Foggy helped.” Matt laughed, rocking from foot to foot as he waited for you to take it all in.

Giggling at his glowing blush, you nodded, “Well, you both did an amazing job. Ugh, I could kiss you right now!”

The words slipped out of your mouth without a thought, but they froze Matt in place.

Your relationship with him was unlike any of the other friendships he held. There was a flicker of something deeper–a tense heat simmering underneath every touch, a magnetism that simultaneously drew you together and forced you apart.

After knowing you for 15 years, Matt could read you as if you were composed of braille. Every inhale, every pulse of your heart, every flutter of arousal from you crafted a story of love that he was terrified of losing. Neither of you could handle the stress of a long distance relationship. So, he held you close while keeping you at arm’s length.

Or, at least, he had. The urge to abandon all logic and act on his wildest desires was growing stronger by the minute. Treading over to where you stood, admiring the Christmas tree, Matt encircled your waist with his arms, tilting his nose against your temple.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your cheek.

“I missed you too, handsome. So much.” You leaned backwards into Matt’s firm chest, tangling your fingers with his.

Swaying slightly as he held you, Matt stayed silent, allowing you to soak up every ounce of joy from each tiny detail of the holiday ambiance he had painstakingly put together. Sure, it had been a chore, but it was absolutely worth it for the skip of your heart beat, the stutter of your breath as you held back happy tears. He’d do anything to give you the Christmas you deserved, and that included enlisting Foggy as his eyes for a week of decorating.

Because he was human, and his patience could only be strained so much, he eventually pressed a kiss to your head and spun you to face him. “Ok, I think it’s about time for me to pull my responsible host card and remind you that you need to eat.”

Laughing at his smirk, you nodded eagerly. “You’re right, I’m starving.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Matt gasped in feigned surprise, sparking another round of giggles from you.

“Shut up, asshole. I was admiring your hard work! Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” You shoved at Matt’s chest fondly.

“You’re right, I apologize,” Matt chuckled with you, rocking backwards after your playful push. “Have a taste for anything in particular?”

“Anywhere you want to take me, Matty.” You grinned.

_____________________________________________________________________

Nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk as you laughed brightly, you were launched into another set of giggles as Matt caught you by the elbow. Comfortably full after dining at Matt’s new favorite Thai place, the two of you ambled around the city catching up on the last year.

“Christ, you’re going to break something.” Matt sighed, but he was beaming at you. “That would honestly serve you right, though, after laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry Matty, but the idea of you wearing one of those bikini body shirts is amazing. Foggy is a pranking genius!” You crooned, jealous that you hadn’t been there to witness the practical joke.

“This from the woman who tricked me ruthlessly every April Fool’s Day.” Matt shook his head, biting back a grin as his mind flooded with memories from your shared childhood.

“Oh please, toothpaste oreos and salted coffee is child’s play, Murdock.” You jested, letting your joined arms grow taut as you leaned towards an enticing display in the window of a store you were passing.

“Hmm, well I’ll continue waiting for an apology then.” Matt turned his nose into the air teasingly.

“Should I buy you another Christmas gift to make up for the torture I put you through?” Without waiting for a response, you entered the doorway of the quiet little shop you’d been admiring, drawing Matt up the steps after you.

Carefully studying the rows of vibrantly colored trinkets, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace as you wandered the store. You let your mind wander as you ran your fingers along the rack of knit sweaters you were ogling. Somewhere in the rush to look through the myriad of options, you’d dropped Matt’s hand. Swiveling your head over your shoulder, your heart jumped when you didn’t see Matt behind you.

Before you had a chance to panic, a calloused hand tangled with yours, tucking you back into your friend’s warm side.

“God, Matty, I thought I lost you!”

“Don’t fret, sweetheart, I’ll always find you.” Matt murmured, his voice steady with truth as he kissed your temple.

Leaning into his touch, your heart twirled at the sentiment, emotions welling up in your throat. Squeezing Matt’s hand, you coughed around the lump in your esophagus, eyes once again roaming the row of sweaters. “Did you want to get out of here? You said we were meeting your friends tonight, right?”

“Yes,” Matt answered, a bit hastily given that he was still trying to decipher your reaction to his words. “Uh, yah, we aren’t too far from Josie’s.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me we’re meeting at Josie’s! Fuck, I’m glad the place hasn’t been condemned after all these years.”

“Foggy and I have done our due diligence. The health department must have our pictures taped over dart boards by now.”

“My two favorite menaces to society,” You laughed. “I’m embarrassed to admit that you may have to lead me there. My navigation of the city is a bit rusty this year.”

“You’ve been away too long.” Matt tutted in disapproval. “Far too long.”

You grew silent beside him, your fingers twitching in his hold. “I know, Matty.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean—“ He started but you interrupted.

“Oh, I know you didn’t. And I miss you too.” Matt withheld from turning to you in surprise before you corrected your statement. “I mean, I miss you and my family and the city, you know? I love California, it’s just not the same.”

Cursing yourself for fumbling over your words instead of just admitting to Matt how much you wanted to stay here with him, you tugged at your lower lip with your teeth to keep from rambling any further. Twin blooms of heat pricked across your cheeks, your eyes falling shut with regret and longing.

Matt bumped your hip with his. “Hey, don’t go quiet on me. We still have more catching up to do.”

The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile. “Oh yah?”

“Of course! I haven’t even told you about the kitchen fire that Foggy set at Landman and Zach in the spring.”

Snorting in disbelief, you shook your head. “How on earth did you two not get fired?”

“He blamed it on a partner.” Matt grinned, making you chuckle.

The walk to Josie’s was short and filled with pleasant conversation, despite the brief hiccup. When you finally reached the familiar dive bar, you inhaled deeply, smiling at the sour odor of stale beer and tobacco.

Inside, the sticky floors and dim lighting immediately transported you back to the first time Matt brought you here, begging you to come with him to the “Jewel of Hell’s Kitchen”. Sure, it was more cubic zirconia than a diamond in the rough, but you understood why Matt loved it. The atmosphere was unmistakably familiar. No bells and whistles, just cheap beer and good company.

“This way,” Matt lead you further into the establishment, waving at Foggy and a gorgeous blonde woman who were seated near the windows.

Foggy leapt up to tackle you in a hug as soon as you were within hugging distance, crushing your lungs before you could laugh. “God, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Way to rub it in, bud.” Matt scoffed, smirking when his business partner gave an exaggerated eye roll.

“You’ve seriously got to teach me how to keep him in line.” Foggy sighed, scowling at the dark-haired man.

“You think I know how to do that?” You chuckled incredulously. “I’m not sure that’s possible without divine intervention.”

“C’mon, you’re practically the Matt-tamer.” Foggy cajoled, spinning around to face the table. “Karen, Matt-tamer. Matt-tamer, meet our lovely receptionist, Karen Page.”

Laughing as Foggy gestures towards the seated woman, you gave her your real name.

Karen smiled brightly, reaching her hand out for you to shake.

“You know, I could’ve introduced her myself. She is my friend, after all.” Matt pouted and you grinned, placing a hand on his arm.

“We all know you would have done a great job introducing me, Matty.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to Foggy.

“Um, are we not going to comment on the fact that I’m apparently not allowed to be friends with you?” Foggy asked, taking his seat beside Karen again.

“I didn’t say that!” Matt argued, sliding into the other side of the booth.

As Matt and Foggy bickered, you and Karen exchanged a knowing smile before you headed to the bar.

Waving as you spotted Josie’s stony face, you couldn’t help but smile when she rounded the bar to give you a one-armed hug. “Hey, kid. We’ve missed ya around here.”

“So I’ve heard,” You chuckled. “Can I get a couple of beers?”

“Your boyfriend letting you pay for the drinks?” Josie shook her head in distaste.

Almost dropping the two beers she’d passed you, your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, uh…”

“C’mon, don’t tell me he hasn’t made a move yet. Poor kid acts like ya hung the moon.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you shrugged. “We’re just friends, Josie.”

“Yah, yah. Heard that one before.” Josie sighed, shooing you back to the table.

Trying to refocus after her comment, you plastered a smile back on your face and took your seat next to Matt, handing him his beer.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” He leaned against you and your skin burned. You could practically hear Josie raising her eyebrows from across the bar.

“You ok?” Matt asked, tilting his head towards you. “Did Josie snap at you or something?”

“You have to cut her some slack, she’s working hard to keep this place afloat.” Foggy frowned in sympathy.

“Oh no, nothing like that, she just caught me off guard is all.” You reassured, willing your body to relax into Matt’s hold.

“How so?” Karen asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, er, she asked me if…” Looking at Matt hesitantly, you let the words tumble out before you could fib. “She was wondering if Matt and I were dating.”

“What did you say?” Matt murmured.

“I told her the truth. Though, I wonder if I should’ve said we were, that was always easier.” You sighed, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

“Always?” Karen asked, eyebrows shooting skyward.

“When we were kids, people always assumed we were dating. Eventually, it was easier to say yes than explain anything.” Matt explained with a shrug.

Foggy smiled, “Ah, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you both act like you’re dating for a weekend every year?”

You and Matt immediately grew defensive, spitting out two remarks at the same time.

“We do not—“

“Are you kidding me—“

But the realization of how close you were sitting to Matt made you pause. The man in question seemed to have the same epiphany because you both jumped apart with a huff.

Foggy and Karen exchanged a glance before nodding. Clapping his hands together, Foggy changed the subject.

“So…how’s California treating our favorite medical student?”

————————————-

Sitting on the worn leather couch in Matt’s living room, you blinked sleepily, the bright LED string lights coming back into focus as you reopened your eyes. You’d hoped that the beautifully decorated tree would draw you out of your thought spiral, but it was only fueling your rapid fire thoughts. Fidgeting with the fabric of the cushion you were sitting on, you couldn’t help but think of Foggy and Josie’s parallel accusations.

You and Matt were close, that was true, but you didn’t “act like you were dating”…did you? Sure, you were pretty much constantly touching each other, and you had nicknames for each other, but that was all platonic.

Or was that just what you’d told yourself? To let yourself sign off on the emotional turmoil you experienced every year when you had to leave the man that you loved.

Fuck. You loved Matt.

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice startled you, your body jumping a few inches off the couch. Handing you the mug of hot chocolate he’d prepared for you, Matt took a seat next to you, his brow folding in concern.

“Oh, uh, nothing, Matty.” You lied unconvincingly.

With a snort, Matt shuffled closer, placing a hand on your knee. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“Did it…bother you? What Foggy said, about us?” You asked timidly, biting your lip when his hand stilled on your leg.

“Did it bother you?” He parrots, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Laughing despite the thick tension clouding around you, you shoved your shoulder against his. “I asked you first, Murdock.”

“Fair enough.” Matt chuckled nervously, exhaling quickly before answering, “No. It didn’t bother me.”

“Permission to ask you a follow up question?” It was risky to ask for further clarification before answering yourself, but you needed to know.

“That seems like cheating, but I’ll allow it.” Matt jested, his worry poorly concealed behind his teasing tone.

“Why didn’t it bother you?”

For an intense moment, your soft question was met with icy silence. Then, he responded with a warmth you’d never heard from him. “Because I’ve known exactly what I’ve wanted with you since we met all those years ago. And, consciously or not, I decided to enjoy my time with you in that way.”

Mouth falling agape, you pondered the answer for a moment. Had you been seeking that with him too? Is that why you were more than ok with the state of your relationship every year?

Interpreting your failure to speak as unease, Matt apologized. “I’m sorry. If I’d known that you were uncomfortable about it, I wouldn’t have–”

“I never said I wasn’t ok with it, Matty.” Your voice was deep with want, your eyes focused on every twitch of his facial muscles as he processed your response. “I’ve wanted more with you for years, I just thought I was better at hiding it than I apparently was.”

Matt chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

Matt’s breath heated your face, his lips felt too far away despite them hovering over your nose. Leaning into him, you crossed the invisible boundary you’d been dancing around for over a decade. “That depends on what we do next.”

Matt’s sharp inhale sparked a shiver down your spine. Settling one hand on your waist, the other cupped your chin gently. “Do I have permission to kiss you?”

“You fucking better, Murdock.” You murmured, hands wrapping around his nape as he closed the distance between your mouths.

As his plush lips met yours, the air was forced from your lungs. The evening ambiance of the city was drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. A jolt of adrenaline, that was heavily threaded with pure need shocked your system, drawing a soft loan from your vocal chords as his tongue prodded your bottom lip.

“Matty, please,” You whimpered as he withdrew his mouth from yours.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words for me.” Matt’s smug tone prompted another moan from you.

“Want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, love.” Hiking you into his arms, Matt wove his lips between yours again as he carried you to the bedroom.

————————————

Scrunching your nose against the chill that overtook you as your foot slipped out from underneath the blankets, you retracted your leg, settling back into the cocoon of sheets and muscular arms with a sigh. Unfortunately, the abrupt temperature change had shocked your consciousness out of slumber, and now you had to face the consequences of whatever had happened last night.

Your bare back was pressed against Matt’s warm chest, each inhale of his lungs jostling you with a comforting rhythmic motion. His hands were joined atop your stomach, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Whining softly, you pressed backwards into his hold, his arms tightening instinctively as you did so.

“Morning.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.” The feeling of his lips dancing across the thin skin on your head was pleasant, until your brain reminded you just how fleeting this moment would be.

“Morning.” You responded, your tone revealing your nerves.

“Hey, I can hear you working yourself up. Talk to me. Are you ok?” Matt’s brow furrowed, his blank eyes darting around you as he sat up to study you closely.

“I’m ok, Matty. Just…thinking about us, is all.” You shrugged, eyes falling closed as he placed kisses down your neck.

Hesitating before planting a kiss on your collar bone, his voice quieted. “Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely not.” Using two fingers to turn his face to you, you drew him in for a deep kiss. “God, you make me so happy, Matt. But I still have a few months left in my residency.”

“I know, sweetheart.” The clear disappointment in Matt’s voice almost shattered your composure.

“I wish things were different.” You sighed, resting your foreheads together.

“Don’t say that. You are getting a fantastic education so you can become the best pediatrician the world has ever seen. We can enjoy our time together now, that’s enough for me.” Matt’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but his optimism was contagious.

“And in April?” Matt’s hand came to cup your cheek.

“I’ll be here, waiting for you, as long as you want me.”

“I’ll always want you, Matt Murdock.” You promised, threading your fingers into his hair as he kissed you with a smile.

[natsstar]

i never stopped loving you.

pairing: natashaxfemreader

warnings: angst & fluff

summary: you and Natasha are broken up, but what happens when you bump into each other at your favorite bar?

word count: 2,300

————————————————————————

Natasha was like a breath of fresh air. You had just started working for a high profile corporation in New York, young and freshly out of college. The two of you met at a Stark party about three years ago and the rest was history. Natasha became the most important person in your life- the only person you’d ever truly loved. She coaxed down the walls that you’d so carefully built over the years and showed you a new world. Nat stopped taking long term missions a couple months into dating- buying an apartment with you on the upper east side and settling down. You fell into a routine that you cherished so deeply. You would come home from work to find Natasha waiting for you with a glass of wine and more love than you could ever imagine. You saw the dark parts of her, the parts that she hadn’t shown anyone else. She would have nightmares of the Red Room, waking up in a cold sweat and you would hold her until the tears stopped. A year went by and you were in love- God so in love. You loved the way she made you feel, the way your heart still stopped every time she walked in the room, the way she fiddled with your bracelets when she was nervous, the way she always said “i love you” before bed, even if the two of you were in a fight.

After two years Natasha started taking up more missions again. You knew how badly she wanted to go back to work, so of course you encouraged it, wanting her to do what made her happy. She started taking long term jobs, being sent to undisclosed locations for weeks at a time. The first few missions were manageable, Nat only being gone for a week or two, but soon the jobs got more intense, SHIELD having Natasha on assignments anywhere from two weeks to two months. When she was on a job, not only were you not able to know where she was, but you also had no contact with her, leaving you cut off from your girlfriend for months at a time. Nat would start coming back from missions exhausted- completely drained and usually irritable. After the first few rough trips, you suggested she try to adjust her schedule- maybe only take on assignments that were shorter or less taxing. Trying to reason with Natasha about her work only made things worse. She started closing herself off from you, not wanting to spend time together anymore or tell you how she was feeling. You knew how driven she was to help others and make the world a better place, but it was taking a toll on her and your relationship. Eventually you started getting tired of feeling useless, not knowing how else to help. You felt like a burden to her, the two of you merely just coexisting at this point. One night, it all boiled over and the two of you got in a fight, ending with you walking out. You returned the next day when Natasha wasn’t there, gathering your stuff and leaving for good; she didn’t come running after you.

And that’s how you found yourself two months later- in a bar at midnight, drunk and sad. These occurrences were definitely becoming less frequent, but you’d be lying if you said you were doing any better. You and Natasha hadn’t spoken at all since you left, and you were trying to do anything in your power to keep the mere thought of her out of your head. You knew neither of you were happy in the situation you had created- not that it was really anyone’s fault, so you had to leave. Right?

—

You were about five drinks in and in the process of ordering your sixth. Work had been rough, keeping you well past 8 pm and you were exhausted and extremely overwhelmed. You’d been staying longer lately, working over time trying to distract yourself. The more you sat at home alone with your own thoughts, the worse you felt.

“Bourbon on the rocks,” the bartender said, sliding over your drink.

You lifted your head up, taking the drink and downing it. “Thank you good sir,” as you slam the cup back down, your head falling to rest face down on the counter. Your current state was rather embarrassing and you would probably shrivel up and die if someone you knew walked in, but at this moment you were too drunk to care. You were planning on leaving soon, hailing a taxi and flopping down face first in bed, just to wake up the next morning and do it all over again.

You hear someone sit at the barstool next to you, forehead still resting on the cool surface and your eyes closed.

“Martini please, dry” the voice next to you rasps out.

Your shoulders slump and you let out a low groan, you know that goddamn voice. In fact you’ve been quite fond of it in the past, loving it for what- three years now?

“Nice to see you too,” Natasha says, her tone cool and unforgiving.

“Natasha.” You start, very matter of factly, despite your eyes still being closed and your face pressed into the granite surface, “This is my bar. Leave my bar.” If you were sober you probably wouldn’t be talking to her at all- leaving the bar the moment she stepped foot in it. Sober you was not ready to face her just yet, but drunk you? Very different story.

“Why would you come to the bar a block away from the apartment?” Natasha retorts, “Especially if you didn’t want to see me.”

She gotcha there, letting out a pained “hmph” at her response. The bar also happened to be two blocks from your work, but she wasn’t wrong. You came here because it reminds you of her and the life you two used to live together.

“I’m calling you an Uber.”

“NooooooOooo you’re not my girlfriend go away.”

You feel a hand on your back, “How much have you had to drink, Y/N?” Natasha says in a soft voice.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “A lot.”

“Alright, I’m taking you home.”

You lift your head up, finally looking at her. You go to say something but can’t- this being the first time you’ve seen Natasha in two months. She looks so gorgeous in the dim lighting, her hair falling perfectly against her leather jacket. You catch a glimpse of her green eyes, remembering how they used to soften in your presence. A warm and fuzzy feeling comes over you, unsure of whether it’s the woman in front of you or the copious amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.

She’s not even looking at you, rummaging around in her wallet and throwing a wad of cash on the counter to cover both of your tabs. She stands up, hands on her hips, watching you gape at her.

“Stop that.”

“You’re so pretty,” you say in a complete trance.

“You’re so drunk.”

Natasha escorts you out of the bar and walks you to the old apartment, you essentially slumped on her shoulder the entire walk. The two of you reach the apartment and you stumble through the door the second she unlocks it.

“Ah yes! Finally home!” you say, waving your arms around.

“You don’t live here anymore, Y/N,” Natasha says, locking the door behind her and kicking off her shoes.

“Tasha, that is very rude,” You respond, your words slurring.

“Yea, okay,” she wraps an arm around your waist, steering you towards the couch. You flop down, shoving your face into the pillows with a grunt. Nat makes quick work, taking off your shoes and peeling off your jacket.

“Jeez, take me to dinner first,” you mumble into the pillows.

“Mhm,” she says, draping a blanket over you and adjusting your head so you don’t smother yourself. Eyes already closed, you let out a happy little sigh at the touch of Natasha’s fingers in your hair as she moves the pillows out of your face so you can actually breathe.

“You won’t remember any of this in the morning,” she whispers, and with that you’re out, falling into a deep, drunken sleep.

—

You wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, your ears ringing. You lift your head up, scanning your surroundings with a loud groan, the very motion causing you pain. You see Natasha in the kitchen, cooking something up on the stove.

“Wanna talk about it?” she says without looking up from the stove.

“Nope,” you mumble as your face falls back into the pillows.

A few minutes later she walks over to where you’re laying on the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of bacon and eggs in the other.

“Why are you doing this?” you mumble, pressing your face into the couch so you don’t have to look at her. She responds by nudging you with the plate of food and you give in, sitting up and taking it from her. She’s sitting on the coffee table, legs crossed and staring at you as you shovel eggs into your mouth.

You glare at her. “Can you stop watching me eat?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and gets up, walking back towards the kitchen to clean up. “Yell when you’re done, we need to talk,” she says over her shoulder.

You wince, “Stop talking so loud.”

You reluctantly finish your bacon and eggs, downing your coffee afterwards, trying to ignore your worsening hangover. You look around your old living room, now being able to get a good look at it in the daylight. To your surprise, not much has changed. All the same pictures of the two of you are still hanging on the walls and the plants you forced Natasha to buy for you are watered and healthy. Your eyes linger on one of the pictures- the one of you and Natasha at Clint’s wedding. The two of you are sitting at a table, all dressed up with a glass of champagne in hand. Neither of you realized the picture was being taken, lovingly peering into each other's eyes with big dopey smiles on both of your faces. Your heart aches as you remember the day and the moment perfectly.

Natasha walks in the room, snapping you out of your trance. “Done?” she asks.

“Uh huh,” you respond as Natasha sits back down at her place on the coffee table. You swing your legs out into a sitting position, facing her and letting out a breath in order to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

“Y/N-” she starts.

“Natasha I’m sorry.” you say, cutting her off.

She nods, “Yea I know, but don’t worry about it. You were very drunk, I just wanted to make sure you got somewhere safe.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry about everything. Everything Nat- I’m sorry for leaving without a word and without trying to work things out,” you look down at your lap, beginning to choke up. “God Natasha, I’m so sorry. Fuck all I’ve been doing these past two months is missing you.”

Natasha shifts where she’s sitting, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. “I’m sorry too, Y/N. It’s not your fault, okay? It wasn’t your fault, none of it was.”

You lift your head up to look at her, your eyes welling up with tears. “Why didn’t you come after me?” Your eyes meet hers and the look on her face feels like a punch in the gut.

“I- I didn’t think you wanted me to,” she whispers. “I was so exhausted from work that I just didn’t have it in me, I guess.”

A tear escapes and you wipe it away, “See that’s why I left. Nat- I couldn’t stand seeing you like that and you wouldn’t let me help. I felt useless to you.”

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry. I got wrapped up in my work and lost perspective,” Natasha says, her hand coming to rub at her temple, “After you left I talked to Fury. Figured out my shit and and started picking my own jobs. And it’s been so much better- seriously. I’m able to choose how long I’m gone and I’ve been resting more and focusing on myself. You leaving was like- like a wake up call for me. Fuck- I loved you so much, if I could take it back I would.” She stops and meets your eyes, “I never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

“I never stopped loving you Natasha,” you say back softly. “There’s nothing you could do to make me stop loving you.”

For a moment, she just stares at you, her eyes welling up with tears. She carefully reaches out her hands, cupping your jaw and tugging your face towards hers. “I love you,” she murmurs before kissing you, hard. Relief washes over you the minute Natasha’s lips are back on yours, and you grab her waist, pulling her closer. You taste salty tears as she kisses you with so much love, your stomach twisting at the way her lips remind you of home, returning a warmth to your heart that you’d missed so much.

Eventually she pulls away, resting her forehead against yours. “Please come back,” Natasha says, “We’ll work it out together.” You pull her in by her waist, falling back on the couch and dragging her with you. She melts into you immediately- head buried in your neck as her arms wrap around you. “I’ll start moving my things back in tomorrow,” you whisper into her hair. Her hold on you tightens, “I swear to God if I find you sulking alone in a bar again-” she says. You laugh, jabbing a finger into her ribs.

—

The two of you remain like that for the rest of the day- wrapped up in each other on the couch, Natasha gently running her fingers through your hair as you fall in and out of sleep. You’re completely content with Natasha back in your arms, holding her with the intent of never letting go.

[eretzyisrael]

By LINDA GRADSTEIN

Published: OCTOBER 6, 2022 20:38

Updated: OCTOBER 6, 2022 21:37

It seems hard to believe that there would be a demonstration in support of Iran in the heart of the Jewish state, but that’s what happened Thursday in Jerusalem’s Independence Park. About 100 Israelis, most of them women, came together to support women in Iran who are fighting the regime following the brutal death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini last month at the hands of the so-called morality police.

There were posters with the rallying cry the women in Iran are saying at demonstrations, “Women, Life, Liberty,” and photos of women who have been killed, along with fresh flowers. For many of the demonstrators, it was a way to support Iranian women.

Demonstrators showing support for Iranian women

“I cannot believe that such a thing is happening to women anywhere in the world, and I am appalled that women can be kidnapped, tortured and murdered because they’re not wearing their hijab correctly,” said Linda Lovitch, a media and communications consultant. “As a feminist, I think it’s important to give them a voice.”

She came to the rally with several young Iranian-Israeli women she met on the Clubhouse app, where she also speaks with Iranians. One of those young women, Shelley Salemnia, 31, who made aliyah less than a year ago from “Tehrangelis,” the heavily Iranian section of Los Angeles, came to the rally from Caesarea.

“I came because I really have a deep need to support the Iranian people, especially the Iranian women who’ve had to live under the regime all this time,” she said.  “I’m lucky that my family was able to get out [of Iran]. But our Persian roots are deep within us no matter where we are in the world. I want to tell the Iranian people that Persian Jews are here, Israelis are here, and despite the regime, we have no borders between us.”

"I want to tell the Iranian people that Persian Jews are here, Israelis are here, and despite the regime, we have no borders between us.”

Some of the other demonstrators said they still have family in Iran and are concerned for their welfare.

 “It’s extremely scary when you’re trying to talk to your cousin, and there’s a blackout and you don’t know if she’s alive,” said Yehudit, who did not want to give her last name. “You feel kind of useless, so at least I can do this.”

The rally was organized by Jerusalem Deputy Mayor Fleur Hassan-Nahoum and Shoshana Keats Jaskoll, the founder of Chochmat Nashim, a religious-feminist organization.

Keats Jaskoll became tearful as she spoke to the crowd.

“As a religious woman and someone who chooses to cover her hair [for reasons of Jewish modesty], the idea of a woman being taken off the street and killed or beaten because she didn’t make that choice is something that I can’t live with and something that I have to stand against,” she said.

Hassan-Nahoum thanked the participants for coming and said she realized the timing of the rally after the High Holy Days and before Sukkot was not ideal.

Nevertheless, the rally sent an important message to the regime in Iran, Hassan-Nahoum said.

“We’re not against the people of Iran, we’re against the cruel regime of Iran, which kills women and denies them freedom,” she said. “We are dreaming of the day when Iran can join its neighbors in the Abraham Accords and make peace with Israel.”

“I came because I really have a deep need to support the Iranian people, especially the Iranian women who’ve had to live under the regime all this time,” she said.  “I’m lucky that my family was able to get out [of Iran]. But our Persian roots are deep within us no matter where we are in the world. I want to tell the Iranian people that Persian Jews are here, Israelis are here, and despite the regime, we have no borders between us.”

"I want to tell the Iranian people that Persian Jews are here, Israelis are here, and despite the regime, we have no borders between us.”

Some of the other demonstrators said they still have family in Iran and are concerned for their welfare.

 “It’s extremely scary when you’re trying to talk to your cousin, and there’s a blackout and you don’t know if she’s alive,” said Yehudit, who did not want to give her last name. “You feel kind of useless, so at least I can do this.”

The rally was organized by Jerusalem Deputy Mayor Fleur Hassan-Nahoum and Shoshana Keats Jaskoll, the founder of Chochmat Nashim, a religious-feminist organization.

Keats Jaskoll became tearful as she spoke to the crowd.

“As a religious woman and someone who chooses to cover her hair [for reasons of Jewish modesty], the idea of a woman being taken off the street and killed or beaten because she didn’t make that choice is something that I can’t live with and something that I have to stand against,” she said.

Hassan-Nahoum thanked the participants for coming and said she realized the timing of the rally after the High Holy Days and before Sukkot was not ideal.

Nevertheless, the rally sent an important message to the regime in Iran, Hassan-Nahoum said.

“We’re not against the people of Iran, we’re against the cruel regime of Iran, which kills women and denies them freedom,” she said. “We are dreaming of the day when Iran can join its neighbors in the Abraham Accords and make peace with Israel.”

There was even an Iranian DJ, Rani Amrani, who led the protesters in a chant in Persian that is being repeated all over Iran.

“Zan, Zangagi, Awdazi,” he taught them, and then repeated it in English, “Woman, Life, Freedom.”

Dozens of people have been killed in the three weeks of protests in Iran. Along with Amini, outrage has spread over the death of Nika Shahkarami, 16, who went missing after a protest on September 20 and was found dead 10 days later. Many of the protesters in Iran are schoolgirls, and at least seven women are among the 90 people who have died in protests.

[neotriobrainrot-reborn]

I kinda wanna talk a little about how Epithet Erased sort of helped me at least start my journey towards finding out what kind of writer I am

I think, or at least hope, that I'm slowly understanding myself as a writer and realizing what type I am.

I'm not a complete Gardener, or at least one that falls extremely onto a gardening writing method

When I used to write, I had no worries or issues with writing characters when I first started writing(well I did, but the characters were the LEAST worst thing about my old writing), but the plot fell apart after a few chapters when it came to anything I tried to write

[Example: When I tried to write "Everything's (not) okay", I set the chapter count as 20 and started writing. But two chapters in, I realized that I literally couldn't write 20 chapters on a story where I don't even have it structured.

#2: I tried again with AmphibiaErasedNeo, but then I realized I've written myself into a corner as early as the first chapter, because Trixie & Phoenica would have every reason to grill Molly the second they saw her again and the cat would be out of the bag in terms of her involvement with the music box to them a lot sonner than I'd like for the two. I underestimated just how impactful & important the scenario was that lead the Calamity Trios to Amphibia, and I met a massive wall when trying to bull rush scenes that were subtly affected by that.

Another smaller example is an TOH x Epithet Erased fic idea I had Scrapped that fell apart at "what would stop Phoenica from just leaving as soon as she met up with Luz again?"

Say to say, I kinda sucked at writing. Well, I still do kind of suck and have a lot to improve on, but I suck significantly less now than I did about a year ago, give or take.

And this isn't to say this was because of the gardener method, not even slightly. All of these flaws I found with my writing were a combination of my lack of foresight for how scenes affected other scenes & poor revisioning. The gardening method isn't bad. It's just not something that completely applies to me. The same can be said for the architect method. I can't just go into it without any foundation since that just leads to me barely doing anything, but if I go too far into outlining & try to plan every ounce of how everything will happen through each line in the story, I won't even get halfway before I lose the motivation to even write the thing.

Hides away my docs of unfinished stuff

All in all, I feel like I'm more of a hybrid(or in other terms, a plantser), but at the same time. I still don't know completely. I know I'm not a gardener or Architect, but I still got some distance to figure out what kind of Writer I am and what stuff fits me, but what's important is that I'm at least a little bit closer to figuring out myself not just in terms of writing, but getting a leap closer to becoming the best version of myself, even if I'm nowhere near there yet.

And I have Epithet Erased to thank for that

[hislittleflower-throughconcrete]

How did St. Therese first come into your life?

The story can be quite long, I'll try to keep it as short as I can. But I was absolutely miserable in high school, not just because of anxiety and depression, but I was tormented by scrupulosity. I didn't know what scrupulosity was, we were taught about it in school but the way it was explained didn't resonate with me - something like "caring too much about sin." I remember sitting in class thinking "How can someone care too much about sin? Avoiding sin is our sole purpose in life, each sin crucifies Christ!" and I equated what some would call scrupulosity (caring "too much") with saintliness. But at the same time, as I said, I was miserable. Temptations, emotions, thoughts - everything that made me a human being was a sin to me, I would never receive communion because my teacher told us receiving unworthily was a worse sin than rape. There was no joy, just an endless oscillation between guttural shame due to perceived sin or extreme anxiety after confession to not stain myself with sin again. I often felt that lying in bed all day would be better than risking doing things and going out in the world because then I would be less likely to hurt Christ. I applied to one college, an easy one to get into that was close to home, I didn't really care. I was in a chasm with no way out and I just wanted to die.

I joined the campus ministry, and everyone was so joyful. They smiled. It was so authentic and I was captivated by it. I attended a few months before I cornered the priest after mass and begged for confession, explained everything to him, and he was the first one to tell me I wasn't in a perpetual state of mortal sin and Jesus wanted me to receive communion. I began to actually fall in love with my faith, with Jesus, instead of fear hurting him and disappointing God. I thought, "Isn't there a saint called 'the little flower?' I'll call my blog where I can begin to revel in my love for my faith 'little flower through concrete', because of how difficult it was to get here." I met my bible study leader, whose favorite saint was St. Therese. Her birthday is on St. Therese's feast day. I grew to learn about her through my leader, but didn't get the hype at the beginning. Then our yearly retreat was on St. Therese's spirituality, and as I learned more about her sufferings and her gentle, simple way of approaching holiness, it was so doable compared to my tangled web of misery. She helped me climb out of that pit one step at a time with that method. When I had relapsed in some mental health issues, I read "33 days to merciful love" for the first time, and that consecration to Merciful Love was the most powerful spiritual experience I had ever had. The last piece of the puzzle was when I began to research her scrupulosity - this was only 2 years ago, so I had been scrupulous for over 15 years - and I finally realized through her (at last) that I have a problem with scruples. Now that I know what it is, I can see it for the damaging practice that it is, and be on guard against it.

I could say more but that's the general timeline. She is so important to me.

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[hollandsangel]

one last time | peter parker

hellooo and welcome to the final part of the once before series! this little series was so fun to play with, poor petey deserved a happier ending in nwh

summary: things are finally starting to make sense

warnings: ANGST, sad, so much sad sandwhiched between some extremely domestic fluff

wc:

read part one!

gif by @venomsilk !

it’s late, nearly eleven pm. the silver glint of the moon spotlighting the vietnamese take out on the bar top. “peter? can i tell you something?” you ask, looking up from your box of noodles, chopsticks forgotten in the styrofoam.

peter’s back is towards you, undoubtedly trying to shield is failing attempts of properly using his own chopsticks. you breathe out a laugh when you hear him groan softly out of frustration before he turns to you, still holding the utensil poorly, “yeah, baby, what’s up?”

“do you want me to help you?” you giggle, watching him fumble.

“no, i got i think i got, may told me i was supposed to hold them like…” he trails off, hyperfocused on the task at hand. it’s all you can do to smile, feeling a golden warmth bloom in your chest, knowing it doesn’t hurt him to talk about his aunt anymore.

he’d told you how she died, in his arms in a collapsing building, and it left you aching, knowing he had to leave her. there’s a part of you that feels there’s details of his story missing, or maybe it felt like you’d heard it before, experienced it even. you tried not to think about it too much.

“so, uh, what did you actually wanna ask me?” he seems almost nervous, but you guess he always sounds nervous. you think it might be one of the thousand reasons you fell in love with him.

peter leans over the counter, elbows resting on the cool marble with his hands clasped. his biceps flex under the sleeves of his “i survived my trip to nyc” shirt. for a second, you swear an image of him standing in your parents living room in the shirt, much less filled out, flashes through your mind.

“no, no that wasn’t it.” idly you tap at the countertop, “do-do you ever feel like,” you sigh, trying to articulate an effective way to say this, “like we’ve been here before?” when you look up at him you know what he sees. he sees you grasping, desperate for his answer. 

he looks like he knows what you’re talking about, more so than you do, “yeah…i guess,” he clears his throat, “but what..what makes you feel like that?”

“i um..i have this necklace…it’s kinda broken and i don’t know where i got it and-and this one night, like a year ago i was, standing on the statue of liberty with ned and literally nothing made sense and then i met you and i had this existential feeling of…of i know you and for so long so many pieces have been missing. it’s like-“ you take a pause, understanding just how crazy you sound, but he says nothing, waiting for you continue as if he’s waited for these exact words since he walked into that bakery, “like there are so many moments that aren’t there anymore but then you came along and…and it felt like i wasn’t so lost, like i was finally coming home.”

peter is gaping at you like a fish. he doesn’t look surprised though, or astounded. he looks afraid. 

you can’t look at him any longer, shaking your head and redirecting your gaze to your folded hands on the table, “i-i know i sound crazy and totally incoherent, but–” 

the sound of his bare feet shuffling across the kitchen keep you from looking away for too long. he pulls a chair out, the feet scraping along the floor. you watch the glowy smile that usually resides behind his eyes harden into something you don’t see very often. it’s sad and it’s stern and you feel like there are so many important moments that you’re missing when he looks at you like that.

he remembers them all though.

“y/n, it’s tony, he-he didn’t make it.”

“beck…he lied, god i screwed up…”

“she died in my arms y/n, i should have been able to save her.”

you almost regret your little outburst, wishing you could dissolve the melancholy creasing his brows and replace it with the honey glazed grin from before.

“you don’t sound crazy y/n.” peter promises, his words coming out in a sigh. you can tell he’s scared of what he’s about to say next, scared of how you’ll digest it. “but i really gotta tell you something.” he’d been staring down at the table, fingers twitching against the smooth surface, but now he looks up at you, pained and almost teary eyed.

“peter..” you barely hear yourself say it, and you only know you reached out to him from the feel of the warm skin of his forearm under your fingertips.

“i-i know where you got the necklace.” his voice is gruff, but he continues, “i gave it to you, on our school science trip to europe.”

you remember the trip, ned and betty had got together on the flight across the sea and broke up on the flight home. but peter wasn’t there.

“pete, you didn’t even go to midtown.”

he looks like you just shot him in the chest.

“i did.” he’s pleading with you, as if you've had this conversation a million times and you simply refuse to believe him. “god,” he scrubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath in an attempt to self-soothe, “a few years ago, my identity got leaked, some dude that worked for tony stark and went rouge after he died–” you don’t say anything, and peter isn’t sure if he’s grateful for it or not. “in the video he made it seem like i killed him, and destroyed half of london, but i swear i didn’t.” you reach out for him then, fingers sliding down his arm to stop and entangle with his own. 

“i believe you.” and even though he hadn’t gotten to the worst of it yet, your sentiment eased some of the turmoil sloshing around in his stomach.

“it-it was getting really bad, everybody hated me, and when you, ned and i applied to MIT–”

“wait, what?” peter knew this would be the hard part. 

“just…it’ll make sense in a second okay?” 

hesitantly, you nod.

“when we applied to MIT, we all got rejected, me because, well, everyone thought i killed beck and believed he was the world's.. greatest hero or whatever, and you guys because…because you knew me.”

he knows it’s hard to understand, and the suspicion behind your eyes is a little discouraging.

“baby– i go to MIT.”

“but you didn’t!” his fist collides with the top of the table and you wince. he knows he shouldn’t shout, he knows you don’t know, but after riddling with himself for so long about this exact moment, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i shouldn’t lash out i just– this has been the hardest thing i’ve ever done.” he swallows, squeezing your hand.

“i asked strange to do a spell, but i messed everything up and everyone had to forget about me so i could make it better. you…you forgot. everything.”

you aren’t sure when you started, but you’re crying. not too hard, just a few tears tracking down your cheeks. peter wipes them away with his thumb.

“you told me you loved me, and i promised i’d find you and i did but it’s been hard, starting all over again.”

it’s your turn to gape at him, and you are surprised, and left a little aghast. peter knows it has to be hard to believe all of this, to take it all in, but he needs you to.

“please believe me,” he pleads, reaching across the table to tangle your fingers, “i–i need you to believe me, starting over has been the hardest thing i’ve ever done, i feel like i’m all alone.” 

the tears swelling in your eyes spill over, and peter seems mortified by how his words must have sounded to you, “i didn’t mean that–”

“pete, it’s okay, i get it,” you don’t really believe yourself, but you’re trying to, “i can’t imagine…losing everyone like that.” it’s a shaky response, but it’s genuine “having to start all over. i’m sorry for making it all harder–”

“hey, hey, no,” his brows pull together and he scoots his chair closer, rubbing your arm, “you didn’t know, and i promised i’d find you. i didn’t know if you’d love me back or if you’d love me again, but you did, that’s all i could have asked for.” peter is crying now too, his dark chocolate eyes rimmed red and a few tears skating down the line of his freckled nose. “i never stopped loving you y/n,” his voice is so earnest and choked that it breaks another sob from your chest, “even when i couldn’t tell you, even on our..our second first date, and that time at the MET, i loved you, and i love you now. i meant it when i said i’d love you in every lifetime.”

there are still a bunch of pieces missing, still a few holes that need to be patched up. but there’s a certain peace in knowing. being reminded one last time that it wasn’t all in your head, you had been there before. with him. always. 

“i love you too, pete.” you say, and then you say it again.

“i love you too.”

tags! @randomlimelightxxx @baby-bearie @averysbestyears @would-you-tell-me-who-you-are @my-fangirling-outlet @hiya-its-amber @theduckgoesquack @coffearabica @hllandvibbes @21burritoseavey @starksview @kayasholland @bxmaaa @ddejavvu @belovedholland @lolalee24 @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah

[realcube]

The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift. 

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’  

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café. 

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’ 

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.” 

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring  — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top. 

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig. 

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu. 

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it  — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu. 

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice. 

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else. 

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor. 

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!” 

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit  — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window. 

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven. 

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.” 

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave! 

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.  

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping. 

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by, 

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’ 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 7.

PAIRING: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: have fun everybody xx

< previous chapter

She was stubborn. She’d always been stubborn from the moment he’d first seen her a few years ago and while he knew so many staff over his very long period at the hospital which had seen him do his own residency, he could not forget the first time he saw her. The first thought that popped into his mind was how cute she was in a clearly oversized lab coat as she followed her supervisor around carrying some stock. He’d offered to help her out yet she merely looked him up and down with a sarcastic smile before telling him she didn’t need his help. The exact same sarcastic smile she was wearing right now. 

Time had barely weighed on her, after all, it hadn’t been that long ago and while her hair had changed, her defiance had remained. There weren’t a lot of people who defied doctors or even nurses, they had this sort of mystical tsar like dominance inside hospital walls yet not only she defied him, but she also had almost always the upper hand. 

     - Why would I do that? - she cocked her head to the side, eyebrow raised up as she taunted him. 

     - Because ... - he stood close to him, way too close for her to feel his breathe on her face. His finger traced the side of her jaw, slowly and with torturous intent before he leaned down to her ear. - You really get keyed up when I’m not inside you, doll.

Y/N’s cheeks heated up but she remained her composure, studying her opononent as if this was a chess match. Her eyes looked up at him, a small smile on her lips before she leaned in to kiss him. He melted into her kiss, pressing her against the wall as it became more intimate and lustful, yet it wasn’t messy. She was merely pressed against that wall, his lips molding with hers as his hands rested on her waist. Her hands rubbed up and down his chest, one of them resting upon the hard on visible from his scrubs. She squeezed his through his scrubs as her kisses leaned down from his lips to his jaw and neck, leaving enough lipstick marks to have people wonder. 

    - I guess I’m gonna be keyed up ... - she stopped the kiss before slipping from under him, her hand resting on the knob. - Knock yourself off, Dr. Stan. 

Sebastian remained speechless as he watched her leave. Oh, oh she was wanting to be chased? He smirked to himself, grabbing his jacket before looking down at his erection. That was going to be a fun lunch break, he thought to himself. He allowed her to remain in his mind through his whole shift yet not on the way it usually remained. He wasn’t annoyed at her, it was something else. Maybe he did have an idea of what to do. 

She on the other hand was busy dealing with her ever rushing thoughts about the doctor. She had a bright smile on her face every once in a while every time she thought about what she’d done. Sure, she knew she’d probably deal with the consequences of it the next time they spoke or when HR found out she kissed him in the middle of the reception hall but that was a future problem. She continued with that little smile even as she grabbed her bag, walking down the stairs down to her car, only to find the same man on her mind sat on the boot.

   - Dr. Stan, you do realise you have to enter the car to actually drive it, correct?

   - You are the most difficult woman I’ve ever met. 

   - I didn’t realise we were still fighting over the obvious. - she fished her purse for her keys. 

   - Let’s go on a date. - he jumped off the car. - Hopefully, you’ll end up in my bed as well. 

   - A date? Doctor Stan, the only thing I want to do is get takeaway from the little Italian restaurant next to my house and watch Netflix.

   - Come on, doll. You gave me blue balls the whole day, least thing you can do is have a bite with me. 

She poundered over the question for a little bit. Surely she wouldn’t want this going around the hospital or she would lose the little credibility she had in those halls yet, at the same time, she did enjoy her time with him no matter how much he attempted to get on her last nerve. She lowered her shoulder, letting out a sigh before holding up her keys in her fingers. 

  - You’re driving. 

  - I can’t drive such a tiny car. - he pointed at her baby blue Fiat 500, the very first car she’d ever bought and the only car she’ll ever have for all she cared. 

   - They say men with big cars are compensating for something. Got anything to hide, Dr. Stan? - she smirked as she opened her passenger door. 

  - You would know, wouldn’t you doll? - he caught the keys from her, pushing the driver’s seat back before closing the door. - Damn, this is a tiny car.

  - You’re a tiny car.

  - Is that all you have? I expected a better come back from you.

  - Like you expected me to make you cum earlier? 

He smiled to himself as he started the car. Sebastian honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d driven with someone by his side, much less a woman whom he wasn’t related to. Her car had such an aura to it, the aura of who she was outside of work. He’d never stopped to wonder who she was off work, what she liked, what she disliked; however, her playlist gave a quick peak into a bit of her tastes, a mix between musical theatre, sad pop music, c;assic music and Britney Spears. It made her rounded, more than the woman she was at the laboratory, more than the supervisor Y/N he was so used to have petty fights with. Everything in the car just yelled out who she was, from the little vanilla scent dangling off the mirror, the lipgloss on the side, a few books in the backseat and the car itself. He thought his car was so dull compared to hers, always so unlived in. 

   - Are we going to sit in silence or ... ?  -  she leaned against the head rest.

   - Oh no, doll. I like not talking to you, you normally end up kissing me out of the blue. I could get used to that. 

   - That happened because you were a dick to me. 

   - That happened because you were jealous. Admit it, you like me. 

She remained silent, looking at him through the corner of her eye with a childish smile. He drove past her favourite Italian, getting her reserved order before deciding to take them to his apartment. Sebastian was sure she wouldn’t want him in her flat, no one had really been there. She was a quiet person outside of her job, no one really knew what she exactly did or what she liked. He wondered what type of person she was outside of work but he could only imagine she had that same spark. That little thing which just made her the person he knew.She was always too big for that little hospital.

  - You passed my street.

  - I know. We’re going to my place. I know you’re a private person. 

  - Oh ... - she bite the inside of her lip, looking out the window. - That’s awfully thoughtful of you.

  - Everything ok? - he asked but she merely nodded, leaning on her own hand yet the answer didn’t satisfy him. - You can talk to me, you know? I’m not all bad. 

  - I didn’t know you were a psychologist. 

  - Do you even have anyone to talk to? - he questioned, more in a joking manner than in a serious manner yet her face dropped. Her eyes darting to look out the window as she forced laughter. - C’mon people talk on dates.

  - I have my parents but they’re not in the country. - she answered, pulling at the edge of her cuffs. - It’s only glamorous to work in a hospital if you’re a white male doctor. 

  - Something happened?

  - Not important. - she changed the topic. - Pay attention to the road before you wreck my car. 

Sebastian wanted to ask her, he really did, yet he doubtted she would open up to him. Maybe for good reason, after all, their relationship had been, somewhat, strictly professional for years. Nevertheless, it still tugged at the back of his mind even as he parked. Sebastian existed the car, carrying whatever it was she had ordered before opening the door for her. 

Maybe it was the fact she had been extremely drunk the last time or that she was much more focused on getting him to fuck her but the view from his penthouse flat was something breath taking. She took small steps towards the balcony, holding out the rail as she looked up the city from the top. Everything looked so small, like her own personal sky full of stars. She could just look at it for hours and forget everything.

   - Do you wanna eat out the packaging or do you want me to plate it? - he spoke to her from the kitchen. - Y/N?

   - Whatever’s better for you. - she looked out her shoulder before returning to look at the city. Sebastian dropped the plates onto the marble countertops, abandoning his task to go and join her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if questioning what he was doing by her side. 

   - What’s bothering you? 

   - Nothing’s bothering me.

   - You haven’t bullied me yet. You’re either really trying to get into my pants which is not hard at all, really just need to ask or you’re upset. Either way, I wanna help.

    - You wouldn’t understand. - she leaned her arms on the railing. 

    - I don’t need to understand, I just wanna be there for you.

    - So you wanna be my therapist? - she dryly chuckled. - I’ve just been hating my job.

    - Everyone hates their job.

    - I was the first in the family to go to university, the smart kid. I always did my best, gave up on a regular growing up because I needed to be the best to merely get the opportunities other people had. I worked hard, graduated top of my class and when I got this job I was so happy. - she shakily sighed. - But now I just hate it. I do everything I can, I do the best and beyond, edit company SOPs and training forms and I’m still treated like scum. I just thought that with a degree I would do what I like but instead I’m stuck in that job, unable to do what I like because it doesn’t pay the bills. I interview all the time and it’s always a no. I’m just unhappy, alone and lonely.

  - You’re not alone. You have that friend ... what’s her name? 

  - Miriam? Try being friends with someone who’s recently engaged.

  - I’m sorry. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I didn’t know you felt that way, Y/N. That’s awful. 

  - Thanks, Dr. Stan. I appreciate it. - she saluted him sarcastically. 

  - You need to let people in. 

  - I’ve already let you in. 

  - Not like that. - he chuckled. - You’re always so uptight. Don’t get me wrong, I love it but other people don’t.

  - I don’t really care if people like me. I’m used to it. 

  - Thank god I like you then. - he kissed her shoulder. - And not just when you’re naked and under me. I like talking to you, baby doll. You should quit that job. 

  - And you’d pay for my tiny flat?

  - No. You’d move here and walk around naked with your glasses talking to me about how dumb I am about microbiology.

  - Is that what turns you on?

  - You’ll be ok. I promise you. - he pulled her close to him. - Besides, if anyone ever treats you like scum, you let me know and I will make their life very hard. I can be a nuissance. 

  - I know. - she leaned her head against his shoulder. - It’s a date now.

taglist: @rebekahdawkins​

[lunastwilightblog]

The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain

I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻

So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys? 

Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.

Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe). 

When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.

This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.

For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle. 

For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).  

Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.

So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).

With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.

Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).

So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.

Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.

So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.

They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.

(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).

Anyway. Onto Bella.

So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.

Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).

Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue. 

Yet.

Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.

And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.

So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).

Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.

Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.

Anyway.

When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.

And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.

Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.

Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.

This is dangerous.

Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.

We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).

Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan. 

Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.

Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).

But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.

Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.

By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.

[fanmoose12]

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 12/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Сhapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

“Oi, lady, have you gone mute? Or did you call just to give me a silent treatment?”

Kenny, that voice belonged to Kenny. Kenny was just on the other line, Levi had finally found him, in the most unexpected way, in the most unexpected place.

Levi wanted to say so much, wanted to yell and scream, wanted to curse at his uncle before his throat was dry. But his tongue felt heavy, stuck to the roof of his mouth, and in that moment, the only thing he could manage was a breathy whisper,

“Kenny?”

The only reply he got was silence, which grew in intensity with every passing second. Levi could sense Hange’s bewilder and shock, her hard gaze was burning the back of his head. But Levi ignored her for the time being. He’d deal with her later, after he’d get out of Kenny just where the fuck he was hiding.

However… Kenny still didn’t give an answer. The bastard was going to end the call and throw away that phone, he was going to slip away and disappear again. Levi couldn’t let him. He was sick of chasing Kenny, of being three steps behind him.

It was time they talk, whether Kenny wanted to or not. Levi tightened his hold on the phone, lamenting that he couldn’t fist his hands in the lapels of Kenny’s stupid long coat to give him a firm, rough shake. Then, perhaps, Kenny would finally get his head out of his ass.

“I know you’re still here,” Levi gritted, his exasperation slipping through, “So stop fucking around, and start talking.”

Finally, that earned Levi a reaction. Kenny sighed, the sound alarmingly weary. “I told you to quit, didn’t I?”

“I couldn’t, and you know that.”

Kenny let out another sigh, this time accompanying it by a colorful curse. “Are you still running around city with that detective in tow?”

Levi chanced a glance of Hange. She was staring back at him, impatience written all over her face.

“Yes. What of it?”

“Can you shake her off?”

Could Levi do that? Possibly. But did he want to do it? Not particularly. He and Hange had an agreement, after all – Levi gets his uncle, Hange gets her missing girl. Fair and square. He wasn’t going to lie to her again, even for his uncle’s sake.

“I can’t. And cut the bullshit, Kenny. Tell me where the fuck are you.”

There was another beat of silence, this one was aggravating Levi a lot more. He meant to snap at Kenny again, but just as he was opening his mouth, a vile curse on the tip of his tongue, Kenny said,

“Remember the house we used to live in? When you mother was still alive? You will find me there.”

Levi took a deep breath, a million of questions ready to spill out. The call was disconnected before he could utter a single word.

Of course, what else he was expecting from his uncle? Cooperation? Clear communication? That was never their way.

What he found surprising, however, was that Kenny was hiding in their old house. Levi would have never suspected it as his hiding place. He didn’t know that house still existed at all, he thought Kenny had gotten rid of it a long time ago – sold it away or destroyed.

But he hadn’t. And now Levi didn’t know what to think of it. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about going back to his childhood home, a house he shared with his mother, a place where he had spent the happiest of his years, before the biggest tragedy of his life struck.

Would be overwhelmed with sweet nostalgia? Or be struck by immerse grief?

Or, maybe, he would be too occupied with yelling at his uncle to notice any kind of different, more solemn feeling. The third option was certainly the most preferred one.

Turning to face Hange, Levi was meaning to explain everything to her. But as their eyes met, the quiet of the night city was interrupted by a shrill sound of her ringtone.

Hange winced, silently apologizing, and took out her phone, putting it to her ear. Levi frowned, wondering who could call her this late in the evening. He had his suspicion, of course…

It was confirmed when Hange answered the call with ‘Erwin! Is everything alright?’.

Puffing an annoyed breath, Levi paced a few steps away, giving Hange at least the illusion of privacy. But as his legs carried him away from her, his ears strained, catching every bit of conversation that he could.

However, understanding what Hange and her boss were talking about proved to be quite a task, when her replies consisted mostly of ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Huh? What do you mean’ and ‘It can’t be!’. Hange ended the call in less than a minute, finishing it with a decisive ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible’.

She approached Levi immediately after.

“We need to go to the precinct.”

What? Like hell they did, they finally found Kenny, what could be more important than this?

“Reiss showed up there.” Hange explained, answering his unasked question and furious expression. “He wants to give a statement about Historia’s disappearance.”

Well… that changed the outset a bit, Reiss’ statement was if not useful, then certainly intriguing, but they found Kenny. In Levi’s eyes, that was still the more important clue. Not to mention… that was his initial and only goal.

“I know where Kenny is,” he told Hange, expecting it to change her plans completely.

He should have known that steering Hange away from something she had already set her mind on wouldn’t be so easy.

“We’ll go there right after I take that statement from Reiss.”

She looked so calm and rational, a stark contrast to the storm inside of Levi. Did she really not understand how significant their finding was? Levi was ready to growl from frustration.

He took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. “Hange—”

“Levi.” she moved closer as well, almost invading his personal space. “We will do this my way, or you will do nothing at all.”

Oh, so she was threatening him now? As if that would ever work on him.

“Alright,” he conceded, crossing hands on his chest. “Let’s split up then. You go to Reiss and your darling boss, I go to Kenny.”

Levi thought he’d struck gold with his suggestion. Both of them would get what they wanted without sacrificing precious time. It was perfect, wasn’t it?

Hange evidently didn’t think so. She laughed in his face, stating, “Don’t take me for a fool. Do you really think I’d let you go to see your uncle all by yourself?”

So that was it. The good old argument making a return.

“Really, Hange? After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t trust me?”

Perhaps, some of his hurt had reflected on his face, because Hange suddenly deflated, something close to shame flashing in her eyes. “It’s not about you,” she mumbled, looking to the side.

“Not about me?” this spurred his anger even more. “Then, who is it about?”

Hange clenched her jaw. “It’s about your uncle, Levi. I trust you, but I cannot and will not trust him. Would you have felt differently, if you were in my place?”

Hange’s concern and doubts were certainly… reasonable. He knew Kenny would never hurt him, not intentionally, but would he feel the same if he didn’t know him his whole life? If they weren’t family?

Of course, he wouldn’t. And Hange had even more reasons to distrust him, fighting her on that was futile. He could try some more to convince her, could try and make a run for it, but he’ll just end up wasting even more time that was now so precious.

“Alright,” his shoulders slumped, as he surrendered. Arguing with Hange had a way of making him extremely exhausted. “Let’s go to your shitty precinct.”

“Really?” Hange raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You agreed that easily? I thought I would need to handcuff you…”

Well, wouldn’t that be an interesting twist of events. Maybe, he would have enjoyed it. Once the embarrassment wore off, of course.

“Thanks for sparing me then.”

“Mm,” Hange patted his shoulder with a smile. “Don’t do anything stupid, and you’re totally safe.”

Ah, what a relief.

“Shall we go, then?” she started walking, her arm already lifted to hail a taxi. She didn’t even wait to hear his answer.

Levi cursed and hurried to catch up with her.

___

The whole time they spent in the car that was headed to the fucking police precinct, Levi felt like he was sitting on needles. There was another reason why he wasn’t crazy about going to that place, and, although, it was nearly not as important as his primary one, now it was making his anxiety rise to drastic heights.

Here he was, semi-willingly heading to the police precinct again. To the place that swarmed with cops, where some of Hange’s colleagues were probably aware that he was a criminal, where he would once again meet with Erwin fucking Smith.

Their last interaction ended somewhat amicably, but what could guarantee this one would be just as successful? With man as cunning as he was, who could be sure what was going inside that big brain of his?

Besides… there was another problem, hanging heavily on his mind. And in the silence of the taxi car, Levi decided to try and deal with it.

“Hey,” he started cautiously, attracting Hange’s attention. She shifted in her seat to look more comfortably at him. Despite that, Levi kept his gaze trained forward. “We’re going to meet Kenny soon, and, hopefully, untangle all this mess, so… have you decided what will happen with him afterwards?”

What will happen with me afterwards, was the question Levi wisely chose not to voice out.

“What will happen to your uncle?” Hange pursed her lips, a point finger tapping at her chin. “I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on the solution to this riddle.”

“And his…” theirs, “previous crimes? Are you going to just forget about them?”

“I can’t really do anything else about it. Technically, we have no suspects or any kind of damning evidence. Technically, that case has been closed almost two months ago.”

“So…” he put his hands into fists, keeping them from picking at the fabric of his pants. He still didn’t lift his face, reluctant to look into her eyes. He still didn’t ask the question that tormented him the most, afraid to hear the answer.

“After all of this is over… you’re free to go,” apparently, Hange knew what he was thinking about, even without him asking the question out loud. “Like I said, there is nothing I can do to pin those thefts on you or your uncle, and since, unlike your uncle, you haven’t kidnapped a young girl…”

“Oh. So you won’t try to put me behind bars anymore?”

He was almost disappointed to hear about it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Hange protested. “I would love to do that, but I have no means to do it.”

“The horrible bureaucracy saved me?”

That earned him a delighted chuckle. Levi’s chest swelled with pride because of this little achievement. “Unfortunately, you’re not the only criminal that got away because of it.”

“All the more reasons to thank it then.”

“Or curse it vilely.”

Levi shrugged, his lips curling in a smirk. “Depends on the point of view, I guess.”

There was a pause in the conversation, and when Levi chanced a glance at Hange, he found that she wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her face was turned to the window, her fingers drumming on the seat between them in a slow, irregular manner. She seemed pensive. Levi wondered about the reason for it.

“Hey, since we started talking about it…” the rhythm created by her fingers grew stronger, more erratic. “Have you decided what are you going to do after we finish the case?”

Had he thought about? He hadn’t had the time. But even if he had, what was there to think about? He didn’t have a lot of options.

“I remember you mentioning some kids from Singapore,” Hange continued. “Are you going to go back to them?”

Going back to the brats? That didn’t sound all that bad. Just this morning they’ve sent him a photo of the three of them, telling that they’ve settled comfortably in Jean’s summer house. They said that they’ve missed him. Levi was feeling the same. But was that enough to build a life there, so far away from his home?

He could stay with Kenny, but what if Kenny went to prison? Would there be a reason for Levi to stay then?

“You know… I think we made a pretty good team. So if you ever tire of being a vile criminal…” Hange trailed off, letting Levi fill the blanks himself.

If he understood what Hange was offering correctly, then… Oh. Levi felt his chest warm up, moving downwards, spreading that pleasant fluttering to his stomach.

Hange still was staring at the window, refusing to meet his eyes. Her reflection, however, was perfectly visible to Levi, and the slight rosy color on her cheeks made his own heat up.

“What, are you proposing I become your crime solving buddy?”

Hange shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I could use some of your skills.”

“I’ll think about it then,” he said, mirroring her detached voice.

Hange faced to him with a beam shining on her lips. It was enough to make Levi smile back.

___

Despite the late hour, the precinct was bustling with activity. Remembering his last visit and the half-dead building he found that time, Levi wondered if he just caught the police station on a particularly slow night, or if that was how it always operated, and the amount of officers running around that they saw now was unusual.

"So Reiss is actually here," Hange muttered. "Or something really bad has happened. Can't imagine what else could cause this commotion."

Oh, his assertion was correct then. The precinct was so active just because of Reiss’ arrival.

Hange walked through the precinct with confidence in her stride. She greeted every officer they passed with a quick nod, they answered her in kind, and, thankfully, most of them were too busy to pay attention to Levi. He would love if it stayed that way for the rest of their visit.

They took the stairs, crossed a couple of hallways, turned a few corners, and there they were - walking up to Hange's office. There were a lot more familiar faces there - Levi could see Nana— something, talking with two officers, and Mike, leaning against the coffee machine at the other side of the room.

Hange immediately changed their trajectory, heading to him.

"Mike!" she shouted, causing him to turn in their direction.

As they approached, Levi raised his hand in greeting. When they were close enough, Mike raised his hand too, but instead of a friendly salute, Levi received a dizzying, lip shuttering punch.

Woah, apparently he was not only a towering height, but a mountain of muscles as well, the force of that punch reverberated through his skin and almost sent Levi flying through the air to land right on his ass. Mike certainly wasn't going easy on him.

Comprehending what was going on around him became a vexing task after that hell of a punch, but Hange's loud, laced with anger voice still cut through the fog.

"Mike! What the fuck? Have you gone mad?"

Mike's answer was much quieter, Levi only barely managing to catch 'You're the one to talk..."

Whether Hange heard her tall friend or not, she gave no reaction to that line. Instead, her strong arms wrapped themselves around Levi's shoulders, making the ache in his jaw turn into a barely noticeable dull. She made him face her, her fingers gripping his chin. Despite the outrage swirling in her gaze, her touch was gentle, more like a caress.

"God, Han, he's alright, it was just a punch, I'm sure he had worse. And, he more than deserved it."

Hange looked up at Mike, long enough to give him a death glare and hiss, "Shut the fuck up now."

When her eyes were back on Levi, her voice softened considerably. "Hey, Levi, are you alright?"

He gave her a nod, tenderly clenching and unclenching his jaw. Seemed like... Mike was right. He did have it worse.

Besides... having Hange so close, seeing that worried look in her beautiful brown eyes was... extremely pleasant. Enough to make him want to remain in this position for a while longer, just to enjoy that blessed feeling for another moment.

"I told you everything was fine with him," Mike grumbled suddenly, startling Levi. With Hange in front of him, the rest of the world was left in blurs, even the man who assaulted him had faded to the background. "Now, leave the thief alone and hurry to Erwin. The big man is already in his office."

That got Hange's attention. "By the big man you mean..."

"Yep, it's Reiss. I’m sure I don't have to tell why making him wait is extremely unwise."

"Got it, got it," Hange pushed the hair back from her face, taking a step back, much to Levi's disappointment.

"Don't you worry, I'll take care of your buddy," Mike reached out to Levi, and the arms that Hange still had around him tightened. Levi felt an illogically massive amount of pleasure.

"Mike, don't you even think—"

"I won't hit him anymore. I swear," he added, when Hange just kept giving him a look full of skepticism. She left it on for another second, and then nodded, letting Levi go.

She marched off to the office without another word or even glance. Without her, Levi was suddenly too cold. And the jaw ache returned with vigor.

"Here," Mike thrusted a handkerchief in Levi's hands, pointing to his still bloodied chin. Levi accepted it with a grateful nod, wiping the blood with a disgruntled grimace.

"Now let's go, I won’t waste my smoke break babysitting you." Mike pushed him forward, back to where Levi and Hange had come from.

As he finally got a good look around the room, Levi noticed that they had an audience, quite big and intrigued one. They kept staring at him as Mike led him to the elevator. Thankfully, no one uttered a single word, or, god forbid, a question.

Levi would have breathed out in relief once the elevator doors closed, if his companion wasn't so... unnerving. Mike didn't say a word, didn't as much as glance in his direction while they rode the elevator. He was silent when they left the elevator. He was silent as they moved towards the exit. He was silent as they walked outside. He was silent when he lit up his cigarette, was silent when he offered another one to Levi. Mike was silent before he took his first drag and after he let the smoke out. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and only then he fixed his eyes on Levi.

Levi held his breath, the tips of fingers trembling in anticipation for what was to come. Hopefully, not another punch.

"I was with Han, you know? When she found that note of yours. When she realized who you actually were."

Oh... Then Mike's ire was more than justifiable. And Levi digressed – a punch would be probably a less painful option than having this conversation.

"Did she..."

"No. I've never seen Hange cry, but—" Mike put cigarette back to his lips, inhaling it slowly, as though calming himself down. Levi waited for his answer with a bated breath. "I've also never seen her look so lost. At first, she wasn't even angry or hurt, just confused. I couldn't bear to see that look on her face. So when today I saw you waltz in our precinct like that, with Hange by your side..." he trailed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry." Levi said.

He really was. He didn't mean to, didn't wish to hurt Hange. That was never his intention. And yet, he still did hurt her. That mistake would weigh on his soul forever.

"I know you are," Mike replied, surprisingly easy. "I used to think you're a scumbag and that my nose has failed me…"

Shit, he was really serious about this whole nose thing?

"But it turns out you're not that bad. You did lie and broke Hange's heart," and for that, Levi already received a punch in the face. "However, Erwin told me what happened yesterday. You really called him and asked to take Hange home?" Mike chuckled. "Man, that took some balls."

...To put it lightly. The memories of his last clash with Erwin still elicited a shiver from him.

"I was actually worried he'd throw me in jail," Levi confessed. "I'm surprised he didn't."

"Oh, believe me, he was very tempted to." Mike revealed.

"Then why didn't he?"

Mike shrugged, shaking off the ash from his cigarette. "Because it wasn't his call, it was Hange's. Whatever that she sees in you, it is enough for our Han to trust you. And Erwin respects her enough to not get involved in that."

Oh. That was actually reassuring. Perhaps, now Levi could stop feeling like a naughty schoolboy in Erwin's presence.

"But if you make the mistake of hurting Hange again," and just like that, the reassurance was gone. "We will make sure that you regret it. Next time, I won't be pulling back my punches."

So that hit was Mike going easy on him? Fucking hell. Levi hoped he wouldn't anger that man again. His skull may not survive it.

As Mike grew silent once again, Levi finally remembered the cigarette he was still holding in between his fingers. It almost burned out, he hurried to take a drag before it went out completely.

He regretted his decision almost immediately. Mike had a fucking terrible taste in tobacco.

Discreetly, he put the cigarette out and threw it into a trashcan.

"What do you think they're even doing there?" Levi raised a finger in the general direction of where Hange, Erwin and Reiss were. "Reiss showing up, it's a big thing, isn't it?"

"The biggest one we had in a while. Have you seen that shit inside? The precinct isn't that lively even during daytime. The bigger commotion would have happened only if we got you Ackermans in handcuffs."

Luckily, that would never happen.

"And? Do you think something... useful might come out of his visit?"

"Don't know," Mike stared down at his cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. "To be honest, I thought that Hange's new case was just another dead end. But now guy as big as Reiss gets involved? I guess it's more complicated than I expected it to be."

Complicated? That was one way to put it. Levi was still baffled by the notion that Kenny was working with Frieda Reiss. Clearly, this case was much, much more complicated than they've anticipated. Clearly, he needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

As though hearing his thoughts, Mike put his cigarette out. "C'mon, let's get you back before Hange bites my head off."

"Doubt that four-eyes will care so much about me."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his face screaming bullshit. But he said nothing, only smiled enigmatically and patted his shoulder.

"Whatever makes it easier to sleep at night, man."

___

Inside of Erwin's office was brighter than Hange had ever remembered seeing. Usually he used only two sources of light - his battered desk lamp and computer screen. But today, the ceiling lights were on. Hange didn't know that he even had them.

What's more, for the first time in a while, the leather couch standing beside his desk was occupied - by Reiss and a woman Hange had never seen before. Although, Hange had never seen her, that didn't mean she didn't know her. The hair color, the face structure - it was almost identical. Eyes, however, were different. Historia had definitely inherited them from her father.

Compared to Reiss’ bright ones, Alma’s eyes seemed practically lifeless. Her expression was completely neutral, like she wasn’t entirely there, her thoughts a long distance away from Erwin’s office.

So that woman was the mysterious mother? Hange longed to hear what she had to say.

"Sorry for the wait," she flashed everyone in the room a smile and swiftly strolled inside, taking a seat across from Erwin.

"You're dressed very smartly this night, detective Zoe. I do hope I didn't interrupt your date."

The smile didn't slip of her lips, as Hange shifted, facing Reiss. "I appreciate the concern, but it is uncalled for. Nothing more important than my job."

"Your date must be very understanding. Is that the same fella I saw you with last time? I thought you'd broken it off."

Ah, so Reiss was keeping tabs on her? Lovely.

Luckily, Hange was keeping tabs on him as well. She shifted her gaze to Reiss’ companion.

"And can I ask you who is that, Mr Reiss? Is this your—"

"That's my secretary," Reiss' smile became just a fraction more strained. Hange internally cheered. "Alma."

The same name that was listed in Historia's birth certificate. That bit of doubt Hange still had, now vanished without a trace.

"She's got valuable information regarding your recent case. And since you and I are already acquitted, I decided to accompany her."

"How nice and generous of you," Hange told Reiss, before returning to his secretary. "It's nice to meet you, Alma," she put her hand out for a handshake. Alma accepted it, albeit weakly. And only after receiving a nod from Reiss. Interesting. And creepy. "Why have you come to see me?"

The question was directed on Alma. But Reiss was the one who answered it.

"Alma has something to share regarding the disappearance of her daughter."

"Oh?" Hange shared a look with Erwin. His bush eyebrows were up to his hairline. So he had no idea about it, huh? Well, wasn't it good to finally be one step ahead of him?

But for the moment, Hange had to feign shock as well.

She cast her eyes down, hands dropping to her lap. "I was under the impression that Krista was an orphan." Then, with a slight frown, she added, "Why didn't you report her missing then? We caught news of her disappearance almost a week later."

"I..."

Alma paled, her hands began to tremble. Hange's grin began to spread, she almost got them—

But then Reiss— damn him— interfered. He covered Alma's hands with his, holding them gently, like a caring father.

"Alma and Krista had just recently reconnected," he explained in a quiet, saddened voice.

"Yes," Alma confirmed. Seemed like Reiss' support has given her the needed strength - she sounded surer now. But her gaze kept its strange detachment. "Krista and I rarely talk. I had abandoned her at the orphanage when she was just a newborn, so there are obviously... some tensions between us."

Despite the emotional flavor of her story, Alma was anything but. She was talking about her missing daughter and the rocking relationship that bounded them, yet nothing of it was mirrored in her. Her voice didn't waver, no muscle twitched on her face. Alma looked bored, like she was talking about something more trivial than even weather. Damn it, even Ackerman would have done a better job at pretending.

Although, perhaps, Hange was judging his acting skills a little too harshly. Earlier that evening, his kiss was more than just convincing. Hange felt tingle in her lips at the mere thought.

The sound of Erwin clearing his throat brought her back to present, rather abruptly.

"That is a very tragic story, Miss... Alma, but what is the reason for your visit?"

"Oh right," she freed her hands from underneath Reiss' and grasped her purse, opening it. "I found this on my lawn."

After a moment of rummaging through the purse, Alma laid before Hange a phone that was wrapped in a cellophane bag. Huh, for a simple secretary she knew more than enough about preserving evidence. Not to mention that if Hange found the phone of her missing daughter lying on the lawn, preserving evidence would be the last thing on her mind. But, oh well, what wasn't suspicious about that woman?

Reaching out to Erwin, Hange silently asked him to pass the sterile gloves. Any other day she wouldn’t think twice about simply grabbing the piece of evidence, but if that's how they wanted to play, she would have to indulge them.

Once the latex was pulled onto her long fingers, Hange took the phone - eagerly, impatiently. It all might be just a ruse, and she'd be damned, but she was intrigued by it.

The phone wasn't in the best shape - a large crack ran through the screen, the sides of it were covered in bumps, and at the bottom of it— oh, just a speck, but it was undeniably blood.

Hange shivered at the thought about its origin.

Once unlocked, the phone destroyed the little doubts she had. It really belonged to Historia, the picture on the lock screen confirmed it. The photo showed Historia, who was smiling at the camera with all of her loveliness, and Ymir, who was facing away, her lips at Historia's cheek. Ah, so that's why she was so dead set on saving her? Interesting. And so romantic. Hange didn't expect such a thing from Ymir.

"You found it on your lawn, right?" Erwin asked, signaling Hange to pass him the phone. Once she did, he looked at it, with both skepticism and curiosity.

"Yes," Alma said. "I called Mr. Reiss as soon as I did."

"Alma hopes that the phone would shed some light on where Krista disappeared."

"Hm." Hange couldn't shake off the feeling that she was walking straight into a trap. Why did Reiss decided to finally act, and why today of all days? Was he aware that they got to one of his daughters, and now were close to finding another one? Did he even care? And what was the importance of the phone? It was some sort of distraction or diversion, Hange was sure of it. But for now, it would have to remain a mystery. As suspicious as Reiss' actions were, there was a more pressing matter now. They had to get to Kenny Ackerman, and get out of him everything he was willing to share. Hopefully, with Levi by her side, he'd be much more amenable.

"Thank you for your cooperation," getting out of off her stupor, Hange smiled and shook first Reiss', then Alma's hand. "If we find anything regarding Historia's whereabouts, we'll alert you immediately."

"Krista." Reiss spoke in a voice so low that Hange had to take a double take to confirm that yes, that scary tone was coming from the honest, kindhearted, absolutely innocent politician.

"What?"

"Krista, Alma's daughter is named Krista. And you were just talking about some Historia."

Some Historia, huh?

"My mistake," Hange chuckled, rubbing her neck. "It was a long day, sorry."

"Forgive that slight mishap. Detective Zoe works day and night to find your daughter." Erwin chimed in, calming everyone down with his soft, unassuming smile. Hange could barely keep her delightful giggle.

Your daughter, Erwin said, while looking Reiss in the eyes. So he already caught on? Hange wasn't surprised.

"Thank you for the visit and have a good night, Mr. Reiss, Miss Alma. My assistant will walk you to the door."

Reiss nodded, his eyes still darker than a night's sky. He helped Alma get to her feet and led her to the door, where Nifa, Erwin's assistant, was already waiting with a tired gaze and polite smile.

They left, without looking back even once. Alma didn't say goodbye to Hange, didn't grab her arm and beg to bring her daughter back home. God, that woman could have at least tried to do a more believable act.

Once the door was closed, and they were left alone, the amicable expression was gone from Erwin's face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed in a line, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I hope I don't have to tell you that you're walking on a thin ice, Hange. And that this endeavor of your—"

"I know."

"And working with that Ackerman—"

"I know." Hange repeated, firmer this time. She knew the dangers, knew about possible consequences. Last night, Erwin made sure to explain it to her in vivid details. "But this girl is in trouble, Erwin. I can't let it go before she's safe."

"Your heart was always your biggest weakness," the stoic mask on his face hardened, and then cracked, revealing a fond smile. "But it's also your biggest strength. Don't lose it."

Standing up, Hange hid Historia’s phone inside the pocket of her jacket, then flashed Erwin a cheeky grin. "Is that an order, Captain?"

"It absolutely is, detective. You may go now. Someone is very impatient."

Hange followed Erwin's gaze, turning to the door. Even through the closed door, Levi's silhouette was transparent. He was pacing back and forth, and Hange could bet that he was scowling. She confirmed that guess as soon as she left Erwin's office.

"What the fuck had taken you so long? C'mon, four-eyes, we have to hurry."

Right, Kenny Ackerman was waiting for them. Kenny Ackerman who most definitely had the answers, who probably knew where Historia was. Hange couldn't allow another second go to waste.

She quickly skipped to where Levi was standing, prompting him to start moving.

"Let's go then! The solution awaits!"

___

"Wait!" Hange stopped them as soon as they were out of the precinct. "We need to call Ymir."

Levi groaned. Why, oh why, would she want to call that impossible brat?

"We wouldn't have found your uncle if it wasn't for her help. The only thing she asked in return is to find Historia. We owe her that much."

Perhaps, that was true, but Hange hadn't considered one very important factor - Levi really, really didn't want to face Ymir again. The last embarrassment was still too fresh in his mind.

"We haven't found Historia yet," he tried to argue.

"But we're as close as ever," Hange chirpily replied, overthrowing his whole reasoning with just one hopeful sentence.

Well, his battle was doomed before it had even begun. Levi lamented this loss with a sigh. "You're too kind, four-eyes."

"And you're too cranky," she retaliated, following that devastating blow with a mighty clasp to his back. "Call taxi for us while I talk with Ymir, okay? You know where to go, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded, sobering a little. Amidst his banter with Hange, he had completely forgotten that right, he was going to visit his childhood home, the same house where he had found the breathless body of his mother at the ripe age of nine. The feelings this trip was awakening in him were still unclear.

"And where exactly are we going?" whether his face, voice or general stiffness betrayed him or Hange was just that attuned to his emotions, but worry took residence in her gaze. She froze with phone raised to her ear, waiting for his answer.

"It's at the edge of the city."

"Near the docks? Some kind of abandoned warehouse?"

"Um." Something pointy stuck in his throat, making it hard to speak. However, Hange's gaze didn't waver, as she continued to expect a continuation from him. Swallowing his discomfort, Levi muttered, "We're going to my childhood home."

"Oh." The hand holding the phone lowered. Hange took a step in his direction. For one terrifying second Levi thought she was going to hug him. But, apparently, she decided to spare him from further embarrassment and concluded that gripping his shoulders tightly was enough. She stared straight at him, and in the darkness her eyes shone with sincerity. "If you want - or need - to talk about this, I'm ready to listen. If you—"

Fucking hell, compared to Hange, every other human seemed like an utter piece of shit.

"It's fine, four-eyes. It's just the house where I found my dead mom."

Saying that was obviously a mistake. Hange gasped, her eyes widening. Her hands on his shoulders tightening. "Levi, that's—"

"Yeah, one hell of a traumatic experience, especially for a brat who barely turned nine."

Another wrong line. Now Hange looked close to tears. Levi didn't know what urge was stronger - to wrap himself around Hange and ask her to never let go, or tear his hair out.

"Listen, I've dealt with it a long time ago," he didn't, hadn't even tried, but today and right now was very obviously the wrong time to go soul-searching and uncover what consequences his mother's death had on his psyche. "Don't worry about it."

"I can't help it, but if you insist..."

With that lost expression on her face, Hange looked so damn adorable, Levi was pissed off at himself for being so unwilling to look away. Thankfully, she saved him from this heavy duty by being the first one to turn around, the phone back to her ear. Levi turned away as well, escaping temptation. His finger was just hovering over the order button, when it dawned at him.

"Wait!" he pulled Hange back to him. "Did you just call me Levi?"

It wasn't the first time this evening as well, but all the previous occasions had him too occupied with something else to notice that slight change.

"Where did the damned Ackerman go?"

"Um." If he hadn't spent the previous two days learning just how bold and forward Hange was, he'd say that right now, she looked ashamed. The red in her cheeks certainly spoke in favor of that theory. "I'll be dealing with two Ackermans from now on, right? So to avoid any confusion..."

That was a very logical, reasonable explanation. So why Levi wanted it to be something more— personal?

"The taxi will be here in five," he said, distancing himself from these pointless, foolish thoughts.

"Ymir said she'll be waiting there for us," Hange nodded readily. "Shall we go?"

And so they went.

___

By the time Levi and Hange walked out of the taxi, Ymir was already waiting for them. She was standing near the sidewalk, leaning against a shiny black motorcycle.

Levi rolled his eyes at the sight of it. Of course, Ymir rode a motorcycle. As though she wasn't already a personification of every possible lesbian cliché.

"Oh what a baby!" squealing, Hange ran up to the motorcycle, looking it over with eyes burning from excitement. "I'm sure Historia would love to take a ride on this beast!"

"What can I say?" Ymir huffed, puffing her chest. The smirk on her face was absolutely horrendous. Even Kenny couldn't quite recreate a look of that much self-confidence. "Chicks dig bikes."

"That they certainly do."

Aha, so Hange liked motorcycles. Levi made a mental note about that.

He then left behind Hange's shrilling coos and Ymir's bratty replies, taking a step closer to the house he had grown up in.

It was dark now and seemingly empty, but years ago it was always filled with light. It was filled with life - his mom's cheerful laughter, his uncle's merry jokes, Levi's own insistent, curious questions about everything he encountered. It was filled with love— but now, it was just a house - old and cold.

Although, other than that, it looked exactly like Levi had remembered. A light green house in the suburbs, with a garden, little white fence and even playground, all of it was a gift from Uri Reiss, the only real friend his uncle had.

Oh, how his mother loved that house. How she enjoyed tending to the garden, how she laughed when she watched Levi play on a swing. They were happy in this house, the happiest Levi had ever been.

Standing before it now, after so many years, felt strange. Noticing all the little signs that someone had been looking after the house ­- the lawn was moved, the trash sorted and neatly packed, even the lane was swept - was even stranger. And he used to think that Kenny had sold the house long time ago. Evidently, the old bastard was more sentimental that he let on.

"Hey," a gentle voice was in his ear, strong hands on his shoulders. "Do you need a moment or—"

He was grateful for Hange's concern. But that concern - as sweet as it was - was misplaced. They didn't have time for it.

"I'm fine," he assured, lamenting that he was too prideful to take Hange by the hand. Not that he needed it, but— it certainly would make him feel better. "Let's get moving."

They did, all three of them in perfect unison, and be it her detective's sense or simple intuition, or, perhaps, Hange really could read him as easily as a book, but she took her hand in his, squeezing his palm reassuringly. It certainly worked, her touch was like a magic that chased away the tense feeling in his muscles. Now, Levi could almost breathe freely.

When they reached the door, Hange lifted her free hand, probably with intent to knock. What a dork, Levi thought fondly. Pushing her aside, he kicked the door open with one mighty hit of his leg.

"Levi!" Hange yelled in shock. "You can't just—"

"My house, remember?"

Without another word, Levi passed the threshold, Hange and Ymir trailing after him.

Even engulfed in darkness, the inside of the house looked just like he remembered - soft, crème carpet under their feet, fern that had grown so much bigger standing near the door, a photo of—

Oh. Levi averted his eyes with lightning speed. The last thing he wanted to do was to start crying. Especially with Ymir present.

The house seemed emptier with each step they took. Doubt started to arise within Levi, and along with it - his anger. If that son of a bitch lied to him—

But then he heard it. Just at the edge of his hearing, but that sound was as familiar as it was unmistakable. The sound of Kenny playing with his lighter.

He hurried in the direction of that sound, it led him to the living room. The room was dark, the only source of light was the old TV-screen that did a very poor job of illuminating the rest of the room. Levi could barely see the outlines of the couch, but the figure lying on it— oh, Levi knew it so well.

The sight of Kenny with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other was all too familiar. And just as infuriating. Still holding onto Hange, Levi marched to his uncle with the full intent of kicking his insolent ass.

Kenny shot to his feet moments before they reached him.

"Levi!" he spread his arms in a greeting gesture. Levi's scowl darkened. "You brought friends!"

"Kenny—"

"And before you or your detective—" Kenny swept his eyes all over Hange, his grin growing, "friend punch me, let me show you something."

"Something?" it came from Hange, who sounded simultaneously intrigued, cautious and fucking furious.

"Someone," Kenny corrected with an enigmatic wink. Before Levi or Hange could force him to explain, he shouted, his voice carrying over the entire house, "Girl! Come here, you have guests!"

There was a beat of silence, then, they heard a sound of hurried footsteps that came from the upper floor. Levi held his breath. Hange did too, and, holding her hand, he could feel her pulse beating strongly.

At last, the door to the living room opened.

"What the hell do you want from me again?"

Levi's jaw dropped. Dressed in lilac top and shorts, with her hair up in a messy ponytail she looked a bit different from the perfect girl from the photos, but truth was impossible to deny.

Before them— in the flesh, stood Historia Reiss.

[mynotsohealthyobsession]

Unexpected bond

Book: Bloodbound (between book 2 and 3)

Pairing: Adrian Raines x Lily Spencer (friendship) / Mention of Adrian Raines x MC

Words: 1.960

Rating: Mature

Warning: Angst / Mention of violence, death and harassment

**Tags in the reblog**

His jacket was on the floor, where he had thrown it a couple hours ago. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as his forearms rested on his knees. He had his eyes shut and his back against the wall. His breathing was erratic and faltering, incapable of calming down. The powerful aura that he used to have, had completely disappeared, leaving him broken and defeated, looking as terrible as he felt inside. Whoever knew him beforehand and saw him at this moment, would doubt that that was actually the same Adrian Raines.

His hands had remnants of dried blood, the same that had coloured his white shirt, red. His body was still healing some wounds, cuts and a few broken bones, and bruises as result of their confrontation with Gaius. Every time he breathed, he felt a stinging pain in his chest but he couldn't care less. He had decided to not move from there no matter how long it took. Maybe she woke up before the expected, scared or disorientated. Maybe her bloodkeeper condition made it different for her and she needed some kind of help. Or maybe… Simply, he just couldn't leave her side. Whatever the reason was, he had decided to stay there, in Raines Corp.’s basement, near the sarcophagus in which, and he desperately hoped it was the case, Amy's body was changing, slowly transforming into a vampire.

As a couple of tears slipped on his cheeks, passing through the bloody print that her hand left on his skin as he held her, he couldn't avoid thinking how afraid he was of losing her, to face the world without her. Amy had saved them, after he had promised her he would protect her, she sacrificed herself for them. For him.

He squeezed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back, against the wall. No matter how hard he tried, the images kept replaying over and over in his mind, in a horrible and constant loop. Amy taking the branch, getting close to Gaius. Her pained gasp as the sword went through her chest and emerged from her back. How his throat hurt from yelling her name, incapable of doing anything else but watch. The fire in her eyes, using the last of her strength to stab Gaius as her blood slipped down in the hilt of the sword onto Gaius' hand. Her little smile before she noticed that her knees gave up and hit the floor first as the rest of her body fell down. How quickly her skin became pale and cold as he held her, knowing that there was only one thing that could save her. How, mortally injured, she cupped his face, almost happy that they had 'won', even if right now it felt like he was about to lose everything that was important to him.

"Adrian?" His eyes flushed open, seeing Lily down the stairs. Her eyes puffy and bloodshot, all her usual energy and almost childlike happy mood, had disappeared. For the first time since he had met her, she seemed like an elderly woman who had lost against life itself. She sat beside him and offered him a pack of blood and what seemed to be a clean shirt.

"Thank you Lily, but I don't need it."

"You do." She gave him a broken look. "You think she would be okay seeing you still hurt?" She placed both things between them. "You are important to her, Adrian. She did what she did to save us. To save you."

"She shouldn't have done it! Now she's--" His voice abruptly cut, incapable to even put into words his fears and torments.

"I know." Lilly replied, distractedly fiddling with one of her rings. "But she's brave and her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met." A pained smile lifted her lips a little. "Amy would never watch us die if she could avoid it. You know that." She fixed her stare on him, her voice a bit shattered. "Exactly like you or any of us would have done for her if the rolls were reversed."

"But I couldn't." His mind returned to the night before, when they had sleep holding each other. It felt so far away. "I promised her I would protect her no matter what and I couldn't. I failed her." It was the first time they shared this kind of conversation and time alone. It was obvious that Lily had a stronger relationship with Jax, like Adrian had with Kamilah. But, even if they were worried and sad too, right now, the pain Lily and Adrian were feeling, was different from theirs and had brought them together. "I should never have allowed her to get involved in this." To his surprise, she giggled.

"If you think you could have told her what to do, I'm sorry but you don't know her as well as you think." Adrian chuckled a bit alongside her. Lily was absolutely right about that.

"Did she ever tell you about the first time she saw me transformed, on her first day of work?" He wasn't sure why he asked her that. Probably because it was the moment that he realized that she would be special for him, even if he didn't know how much.

"Only a few parts."

"In almost 300 years a lot of people had learned the way she did about all this. And most… If not all of them, begged to forget, to return to their old lives." Despite himself, he smiled at the memory. "Amy… She just stood there. For a little while, she got scared, of course, but… She didn't run or scream. She started to ask me questions, curious, looking at me the exact same way she did all that day. Before her eyes, I was still… Me. She even joked about Nicole being dramatic during the feeding." He let out a sorrowful and shaking sigh. "I took her to Priya's fashion show and she told the security that she was my partner instead of my assistant." They both softly laughed.

"I think she had a crush with you almost instantly." Lily crossed her legs under her. "That night, before returning to the office, we chatted a bit. When I asked her about how you were, her answer was, and I'm quoting here 'super hot'." She said smiling at the same time that her palm dried her cheeks. "She was so happy to be able to stay in New York."

"It was an absolutely mutual feeling." Adrian passed his fingers through his hair, feeling an ache in his heart as his memory returned to the first time he saw her, that she had given him one of her beautiful smiles. "That night, she cut her hand with a glass. All the vampires around were drawn towards the fresh blood, to her."

"I know the feeling." She sadly murmured. "She mentioned that part actually, that you helped her and stood in front of her."

"I will never forget how she hugged me from behind. How when she was scared, she trusted me." His eyes started to burn with fresh tears. "She not only didn't allow the debriefing, but also convinced me to show her around the library." The tears ran free on his face and he didn't try to stop them. "She's brave and stubborn in the most wonderful way."

"I think you are not aware how important you are to her." They stood in silence, lost in their thoughts and memories until Lily talked again. "Amy had always tried to watch over you."

"I know she did." His voice was a low raspy whisper.

"Actually, I suspect you don't know how much." After a pause she sighed, as she had made a decision. "Amy is going to kill me for this…" She muttered. "There's something that she never told you." Adrian noticed the subtle change in her voice. "But I'm convinced you deserve to know." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "After the trial where Vega framed you and they declared you guilty, everybody started to discuss how to divide your stuff and..." She stood in silence, her eyes filled with doubts.

"What happened, Lily?" He shifted his gaze to look at her, taking his attention from the coffin for the first time.

"Priya grabbed her from the throat and 'claimed' her for herself." Lily shivered a bit beside him as his blood seemed to boil and freeze at the same time. "She said that she wanted to break her. And after forcing her to watch you die, maybe kill her."

"Was she hurt?" Adrian frowned, clearly disturbed as a new wave of anguish went through his factions. He was conscious of all the times she had been in danger because of him but discovering that there were occasions that she hadn't told him to protect him, it felt like a powerful hand grabbed his heart and squeezed it slowly and extremely painfully.

"Kamilah stopped her almost immediately but she had a bruise around the neck for a couple weeks. She covered it with makeup."

"Amy never told me about that." He lowered his face, both of his hands holding it, seeming overwhelmed as his fingers ran through his hair.

"I know. She didn't want you to know. She was sure you would feel guilty even when it wasn't your fault." Lily stared at his eyes, he never had seen her gaze so intense. "What do you think was the first thing she said, when we left the temple after that?" Adrian stared at her back, unsure if he wanted to know. "She asked Kamilah how we could help you, to save you." Lily sadly smiled at him. "Even back then she didn't wanted to lose you. That's why she did what she did tonight."

He remembered the deep sadness and concern he saw in her when their eyes locked to each other as he was dragged away. The softness of her hand and words when she had found him in The Baron's dungeon. The happiness he felt when he saw her in front of him. "I didn't want to lose her either." He forced himself to say the words that couldn't stop repeating internally. "I don't want to lose her. I can't. I need her, she just can't di--" The lump in his throat cutted his voice, incapable of ending the last word.

"I don't know if she had heard you but… If it's worth something, I know she loves you too, Adrian." Lily murmured, her voice gruff. "You are the most important person to her." Her hands dried her cheeks. "Well, the second more important at least. Best friends and roommates rights, you know."

"I'll take it." Adrian smiled before his face fell again. "And it's worth more than you can imagine." His eyes fixed again on the sarcophagus. "I just hope to have the chance to tell it to her like she deserves. And maybe hear her say it back."

Lily took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, standing up. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"Yes." She nodded and headed to the stairs. "Lily." He called her and she stopped to watch him. "Thank you. For the blood and everything afterwards."

"You are welcome, Adrian." She leaned against the wall for a minute. "I just know how sad she would be seeing you like this." She stared at the sarcophagus one last time, thinking the same thing that has been in Adrian's mind the last two hours and couldn't dare to face it: how silent the coffin was, without even a faint heartbeat or shallow breathing coming from it. Almost like it was empty.

✨

[sturchling]

If your taking prompts can I get a Tim or Jason with Marinette where lila lies about dating Damon whom is 10or 11 to Lilas 17 to 18 and Marinette is grossed or and worried by her lies. she has seen how Lila treats Adrein and the only thing she knows about Damon Wayne besides his age is he was raised by his mother and grandfather whom did not allow him out much. So she thinks he might be a little like Adrein and not world wise on how people will use you. And doesnt want anything bad to happen

Here you go, hope you like it. Thank you for waiting and being patient with me. Sorry it took so long.

Marinette had met the Waynes a long time ago. Gina had been friends with Alfred for a really long time. So, Gina was at the manor fairly often. After her little fairy, Marinette was born, Gina would bring her to the manor as well to play with Bruce’s boys. Dick and Jason were like big brothers to Marinette. Tim and Marinette were the same age and were very close.

 --------------------

Eventually, the two started dating. The relationship became long-distance when Marinette was able to visit less and less. Tim also became quite busy over the years and wasn’t able to fly to Paris as often as he would have liked. But the young couple always made sure to talk and FaceTime as often as they could.

  --------------------

The whole family was fond of the Parisian girl and would often join Tim on FaceTime to speak with her. They always kept her up to date on the new family drama. Marinette also kept them informed in her life. But they didn’t tell her much about Damian when he joined the family. All she knew about him was that he was ten and had been raised by his mother and had only just met Bruce and the boys. According to the boys, Damian had been extremely sheltered for his entire life.

  --------------------

So, when Marinette heard Lila’s newest story the next day, she became incredibly concerned. The news had already caught wind of Bruce Wayne having a new son and was reporting on Damian Wayne all morning. But there were no details about him at all. The only thing the media knew was his name. Lila thought it would be a great story to tell the class that she had known Damian for a long time and she was dating him. She had no idea that Damian was only ten.

  --------------------

When Marinette heard this story, she obviously knew it was a lie but she was disgusted and worried. She knew that Lila wasn’t actually dating Damian, but that didn’t mean that Lila couldn’t cause a problem for Damian. Lila could say whatever she wanted about Damian and get away with it since there was no other information about him. She could ruin his reputation before he even gets a chance.

  --------------------

That night, Marinette called Tim to tell him about what Lila had said. It required some explaining, since she had kept Lila a secret from the Waynes. She wanted to fight this battle on her own. She knew the boys would have wanted to charge in and help with the Lila problem if she had told them. Now she was telling them everything. Dick, Jason, and Tim all sat quietly as Marinette told them everything and what Lila had said this morning. “I wanted to let you guys know what she said. I have a friend that was sheltered most of his life and he got into a messy situation because of how he handled this girl. I know you said Damian was sheltered too so I thought I should warn you so maybe Damian would know and would stand up to a liar instead of let her be.”

  --------------------

The boys just stare for a second before they all burst into laughter. Dick is the first to recover, “Marinette, Damian would never tolerate a liar. We said he was isolated, not sheltered.” Marinette paused for a moment, “What?” Jason, still wheezing, says, “That demon brat may have been isolated, but he was definitely not sheltered. I’m more concerned of what he would do if he found out about this liar, than what this liar could do to him.” Dick looks thoughtful for a moment, “Still, we should probably tell Bruce about this. Just so he knows.” The other boys nod and Dick gets up to go get Bruce.

  --------------------

It isn’t long before they both return and Bruce is filled in on the Lila situation. To say he is displeased would be an understatement. “Thank you for telling us Marinette. Do me a favor, if she says anything else about Damian or any of us, please let us know.” Marinette agrees and Bruce leaves so Marinette and Tim could continue their conversation.

  --------------------

For the next several weeks, Marinette kept note of everything Lila said about the Wayne family. After the popularity of her first lie about Damian, Lila just kept coming up with more lies about the Wayne family. She has now said that she is very close to the family. That she grew up with the boys and is like a daughter to Bruce. She even said that she has helped run Wayne Enterprises and clean up Gotham.

  --------------------

Marinette tells Bruce and the boys everything that Lila has been saying. When she asks what they’re going to do, they tell her not to worry about it and that she will see. Another week passes before Marinette finally sees what they mean.

  --------------------

Marinette arrives at school and her class is buzzing with excitement. She asks Adrien what is happening, and he tells her “The class was told that we are having a very special guest today. They won’t tell us who, but everyone thinks it is someone Lila knows and is excited to meet someone so important.” Marinette glances at the liar and sees everyone surrounding her and asking questions. Lila has a strained look on her face, as she evades the questions and tries not to reveal anything.

  --------------------

The class continues to whisper throughout the day about who it could be, until lunch. Mrs. Bustier leaves the room for a moment and then comes back with a smile on her face. “Class, our guests have arrived. Please welcome Bruce Wayne and his sons, Richard, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Lila grows pale when she hears those names. She doesn’t have time to try and cover her tracks with the class before the door opens and the group walks in.

  --------------------

Bruce goes to stand front and center, with his sons surrounding him. Alya is looking at all of the sons, trying to figure out which is Damian. There are two boys that look older than them, and a young kid. Then there is a boy that looks about their age, so she figures that he must be Damian. She instantly calls out, while staring directly at Tim, “Damian! Nice to finally meet you! Lila has told us so much about you and how sweet a boyfriend you are.” Tim just stares back at Alya. Tim eventually breaks the silence saying, “I’m Tim, not Damian. He is Damian” Alya is shocked to see him pointing at the young kid. He couldn’t be older than ten, so why would Lila be dating him.

  --------------------

Before Alya could continue, Bruce spoke up. “Miss, I don’t know what you are talking about. Damian is only ten, and isn’t dating anyone. Who is this Lila?” Alya stands up, ready to defend her friend. “What do you mean who is Lila? She is close with all of you! You think of her like part of the family. She even helped with Wayne Enterprises! How could you not know her?!” Alya points at Lila through out the tirade, as Lila tries to hide. Bruce gets a look on his face. “Young lady, that is all a bunch of lies. I have never met this Lila person. But thank you for pointing her out. Now I know who to give this to.” Bruce walked to Lila’s desk and hands her a bunch of papers. “That is a cease and desist order. I am not suing you yet, but if you do not stop lying about my family this instant then I will have no choice.”

  --------------------

The class jumps to defend their friend, with Alya being the loudest. “How could you say that? Lila isn’t a liar!” This is when Damian spoke up, with venom in his voice “She is obviously lying you imbecile. I would never court a harlot like her.” Bruce turned to look at him, silencing him with a look. Bruce turns back to face the class. “The only person in this room that is dating one of my sons and is like part of the family is Marinette.”

  --------------------

The class is shocked and turns to face the young fashion designer. Lila is fuming. Of course, that brat knows the Waynes. Bruce turned to face Mrs. Bustier again, “Now, I am taking Marinette with me for the rest of the day to go have lunch with us. I suggest you contact Ms. Rossi’s mother and let her know about the cease and desist order and what her daughter has been doing. Have a good day.” With that, Bruce ushers everyone, including Marinette, out of the classroom.

  --------------------

After they leave, the class erupts into chaos. Everyone turns to Lila, demanding answers. Lila tries to cover it up, and come up with a lie to fix everything. But it doesn’t work. Hard to explain how she isn’t actually dating Damian Wayne and how she didn’t know he was only ten. The class started looking into Lila’s stories. Not just her stories about the Waynes, but everything else. They quickly realize that Lila had been lying this whole time. Soon, Mrs. Rossi arrived and dragged her daughter to Mr. Damocles office. Lila never came back to the class; she was expelled once everything was revealed. The class apologized to Marinette for not believing her and she forgave them. Things settled down in Mrs. Bustier’s class after that and Marinette was happy. Lila was gone, she had her friends back, and Tim and her were as strong as ever. Marinette was the happiest she had been in a while, and felt ready for the next chapter of her life and whatever it may bring.

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family I

A/N: As requested (accidentally deleted the ask soz) a Dad!Harry where you visit him with your daughter and you live together as a family even though the reality is far from it. But for the sake of your kid you put up with it. The next part gets better promise!

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

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“Charlie don’t get too far,” I call out to my three year old. She gives me a disappointed look but I return one of my own and she drags her feet back to me.

Sometimes it felt like it had always been just me and Charlotte and other times it was hard to believe it would be almost four years since I’d had her. The moment she was born-two weeks early-on a rainy August day, I knew I made the right choice to keep her.

“When are we getting on the airplane?” my daughter pouts. She reminded me so much of her father with her bold eyes framed by her lowered brows. I remember when I held her for the first time in my arms and she blinked up at me, her big eyes were a dewy field reflecting her father. It was then that it hit me that no matter where he and I were on earth-we were still somehow connected. And since I was still in love with him then, it hurt. But I learned soon to pour my love into Charlotte and focus on raising her the best I could.

“We’ll be boarding soon." I pick her up and hold her on my knees to keep her from running off again. This was my first time travelling with her-her father generally came down to LA a few times a year to visit her so we never had the need to make the trip. This time, for her fourth birthday, we’d decided to go to London and stay there for the month. And since I was my own boss, I could take my work anywhere.

“I want to see daddy,” Charlie whines.

"We will babe,” I try to soothe her.

“Daddy” was Harry Styles, the Harry Styles. We met through a friend over six years ago when he was in LA. Up until meeting him, it felt like I was living a grey version of my life. Our chemistry was explosive and our connection instant--colouring my world a vibrant hue. We were in love-so in love I moved to London a few months later to be with him and it was going perfectly until I got pregnant. We agreed to keep the baby-it was a no brainer, but as the months went by and the reality sunk in, our relationship took a hit. Suddenly we were arguing about insignificant things, Harry stayed out late with friends or in the studio and wasn’t as supportive as he should have been, and I wasn’t happy. When I brought up the separation Harry looked almost relieved-which hurt. When I brought up moving back to LA he was enraged, but after a few days he agreed. Now, our Charlie saw him a few times a year when he lived in LA and she would stay with him. Our interactions were limited to picking her up and as I’d heard it Harry had a steady girlfriend for the past year. Despite all that, I still loved him. What we had was unlike anything I’d felt, seen, or read about before. I knew he'd felt it too, the music he released spoke the words he never said. But the ugliness of the last few months of our relationship always kept me from remaining wistful. Harry didn’t want commitement. He only had room in his heart for our daughter and I was fine with that.

We were staying around the corner from Harry’s at an air bnb for convenience. Ever since having Charlotte, I hadn’t been outside of the US so this was exciting yet daunting. The idea of seeing London again, all my old friends, and Harry gave me a rush of mixed emotions.

The landing and locating of our luggage had a few bumps and a minor tantrum but our taxi takes us to the flat where we are met with the hostess.

“There’s been a terrible mistake,” she wrings her hands as we stand in the heat of the summer afternoon.

“What kind of mistake?” My heart drops and there’s a tugging on my dress. Charlotte demands to be picked up.

“We accidentally booked another couple to the flat.” The woman responds.

“What?” If I wasn’t this tired, I would be shouting. “How can you make a mistake like that? I booked this well in advance!”

“I understand,” the woman says. “Your booking must have been accidentally cancelled and I-the couple is fine with sharing the flat-”

“I have a small child with me as you can see,” I cut her off not going into detail why our privacy was extremely important. “I’m not living with two strangers when I secured the place for all of August. This is bullshit,” I spit out, forgetting Charlie could hear me. This trip was not going how it should be. “I’m contacting air bnb and-”

My rant is cut short when my phone vibrates. Harry.

“Hi,” I answer.

“Daddy!” Charlotte yells into my ear. I hush her with a glance and try to listen to what Harry was saying.

“-landed? I was trying to reach you where are you?”

I sigh and give the woman a dirty look. “We’ve just arrived at the bnb and apparently there’s been a ‘mistake’ and it’s double booked so now I don’t know where-”

“Shit, stay with me,” comes Harry's steady voice.

“I couldn’t,” comes my own, slightly less steady voice. Staying with Harry would be bad for me. It would only stir old emotions back up and make it harder to leave once again. I just knew it.

“I’m right around the corner Y/N. Just stay until you find another place at least.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I agree and order an Uber, giving the woman a piece of my mind before I go.

Charlotte had fallen asleep on my shoulder in the midst of all of it so I struggle with the child, our luggage, and my phone when I reach Harry's.

“I’ll be right down,” he says. My stomach is suddenly doing sommersaults and I can barely feel my legs. I saw Harry near Christmas! Why was I suddenly so nervous?

“Hey,” Harry enters the lobby in a black shirt and jeans and his glasses sit atop his mess of hair. “You look lovely Y/N, but that’s nothing new.”

Harry's grin is like a crack in the ice surrounding us and I give him a quick hug hello.

“Let me get that.” He grabs the luggage and we wait for the elevator again.

“She fell asleep,” Harry brushes our daughter’s hands and she shifts on my shoulder.

“She’s been doing that since the ride,” I say. “I think jet lag is already doing her in.”

Harry smiles at her and the tenderness in his gaze holds me captive. It was a while since I saw Harry look like that.

Harry gets the luggage onto the lift and I follow him in. The mirrored interior reflects the glimpses he takes of me but I stay staring forward, not wanting to give in.

“Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I ask Harry when we enter his flat. “That we’re staying with you.”

“About that,” Harry scratches his nose. “I’m sure she’ll understand. We should talk though…about the trip.”

“Of course, let me just put Charlotte to bed.” Harry points out the spare room and I can tell Charlie will like it here with the amount of stuffed animals Harry's decorated the bed with. She was spoiled.

“So you can stay as long as you want here,” Harry begins. “Or if you want to find someplace else I understand. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

He holds my gaze as he talks and I nod along. It was all very proper and polite, almost as if we’d never had anything more than a friendly relationship.

“What’s your schedule like?” I ask. “I know we already figured things out but if I’m staying for a few days here will I be in the way of anything?”

“I’m filming in a few days, I took a lot of time off the next couple weeks for Charlie but that’s it. Then I'm in the studio after that." Harry scratches the back of his head. “Just make yourself at home don’t worry what I’ve got to do.”

“I don’t want to get in the way. I know we didn’t plan for this,” I flush. Harry reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

“I want you to feel comfortable, love...”

I’m suddenly 21 and Harry and I are on one of our first dates at a bar. He holds onto my hand and tells me he really likes me. He asks me if we wanted to take our relationship past the dating stage. I’m giddy and drunk on love and kiss him yes.

“Mom?” A small voice calls out.

“Yes!” I jump up and shake the memories off, rushing to the spare room. Charlotte sits up in bed with a frown on her grumpy face. “I’m right here babe.” I scoop her up and she holds onto me, already holding a stuffed koala in the other hand.

“So you’ve met Mr. Blake.” Harry walks into the room and points to the koala.

And just like that Charlotte is jumping into her dad’s arms and bubbling with laughter, explaining how his real name is Oreo. My heart squeezes watching the two interact. Charlie is more awake than before the plane ride as she continues with her endless chatter. Harey is wide-eyed and drinking in everything she says. She says something funny and he throws his head back laughing, kissing the side of her head while she giggles. Seeing them two made my heart full.

“Momma I’m hungry,” Charlie says abruptly.

“You must be,” I look at the time. “It’s been a while since we ate.”

“Let’s have an early dinner out,” Harry suggests.

“That’s not necessary-” I try to say but Charlie cuts me off with a big cheer and soon Harry joins in and he’s off with her riding his back with her hands clasped tightly around his neck. I would never win with those two together so I find my wallet and join them.

“I didn’t realise how much I needed this,” Harry says on our walk to the restaurant. It was a ten minute walk Harry wanted to take, reassuring me that we wouldn't be bothered. Charlotte holds her dad’s hand and stares in wonder at the new city around her. “I can’t believe you-she-Charlie hasn’t ever been down here.”

“She was so excited to finally see where her Dad lives,” I laugh at the image of her bouncing off the walls in happiness.

“I think the weirdest thing for me is that my baby has an American accent,” Harry comments.

“I never thought about that!” I laugh. “At least she won’t be saying things like crisps and the loo!”

“Oi that’s offensive,” Harry jokes. “My english is just as good as yours mate!”

“Now you sound Australian!” I tease.

Harry laughs and bumps his shoulder into mine.

“Australia has kangaroos,” Charlotte comments randomly.

“We’ve got a clever one,” Harry winks at me. “They’ve got massive spiders too.” Harry says to our daughter but little does he know she actively picked up spiders.

Charlie starts jumping like a kangaroo and soon Harry picks her up and sits her on his shoulder where she shouts to anybody who listens that she was on top of the world.

“I always tell people she’s got that energy from her dad,” I tell Harry quietly. There a shine to his eyes as he looks to Charlie and she looks down at him and shouts it louder.

“My mum and dad were thinking of coming around this weekend to see her,” Hadry suddenly says.

“That would be nice for her. To see her family,” I say.

“I mean you’d be there too?” Harry says.

“Oh, right.” My mouth dries at the thought of having to see his family. They were a great bunch but the way Harry and I ended things so abruptly was an uncomfortable reminder. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Charlie can have some sort of a normal family dinner,” Harry jokes.

“Both parents and grandparents? That would make her trip actually.” I say with a little bit of sadness. Charlotte wouldn’t grow up with both parents like Harry and I had the privlege of and that hurt me thinking about it.

“I wish she could have that all the time,” Harry sighs. He glances over at me as he says it and there’s something unspoken. But Charlie grabs a fistful of his hair and he has to get her down in her drunken power.

The restaurant is cozy and Charlie talks a mile a minute with the attention of both her parents. Every so often when she says something ridiculous or something related to an old inside joke from years past, Harry will glance over at me with a smile. It’s a secret language between us, and I swear I even feel his hand brush my own but I chalk it up to accidents. Harry had a girlfriend, he had no business doing that with me.

It gets more confusing later that night. Harry had plans to go out at 8 and Charlie falls asleep by half past 7. Being in LA time, I stay snuggled in the couch, watching a random movie Harry recommended. My eyes drift shut halfway but I’m awoken by a bang. My eyes squint in the dark as my hand feels for my phone. 1:47AM the bright display reads.

“Sorry,” comes a voice. The lights flick on and Harry stands dishevelled in the clothes he went out in. “I was trying to keep quiet I di'know you were sleeping!”

He was drunk-whispering which meant his voice was only slightly lower than normal. He stumbles towards me and falls onto the sofa, yanking his shoes off with a great deal of effort.

“Were you sleeping?” He asks me up close.

“I guess so,” I respond. “Did you have a good time?”

A part of me feels awash with sadness, the dull and familiar ache settling into my chest. Another part of me is angry at myself for still being in love with a man who could not love me the same way.

“It would have been nice if you came,” Harry reaches out and twists a strand of my hair. “Are you naturally a brunette?”

“I am,” I say gently. “You should drink water before bed.”

“No-no don’t start taking care of me!” Harry puts a pillow on his lap. “I’m supposed to be taking care of my girls. But I’m doing a shite job I guess.”

He stifles his laugh. I try to stifle the pang in my chest when he says 'my girls’ because it meant nothing more than just words. I couldn’t afford to read into these things. But when Harry switches the pillow to my lap and lays his head down, all self-control gets chucked out he door.

“It’s been so long since we talked,” Harry tries to whisper again. He reaches out to touch my hair again, his fingers lingering on my face before lowering to his side again.

“You came to LA a lot,” in my statement is also an accusation. He never came in to my apartment or asked me to go out.

“You never invited me in,” Harry says quietly.

“Surely I did?” I tell him.

“No,” his reply is almost a sigh. I realise maybe I didn’t make it so explicit.

“My mistake,” I admit. “But you know you were always welcomes.” I trace the bridge of his nose.

“I know,” Harry says with a boyish smile. “I was slightly nervous when we were on your terf. I didn’t ask either-you’re right.”

Involuntarily I brush my fingers through Harry's hair. Instantly, his body relaxes with a sigh as he closes his eyes. So I remove my hand immediately and nudge him.

“I should go to bed,” I wait for him to clumsily get up. We walk to the stairs together where Harry wishes me goodnight. He leans foward and misses my forehead by an inch, kissing my eyebrow instead.

“Night,” I back away into the spare where Charlotte sleeps, rubbing my eyebrow. In bed, I try to sort through my feelings. My eyes land on the sleeping body next to me and I pull her into me. She was all I needed, I try to remind myself. I was only here for her. Harry and I were never getting together again.