#as i walk on eggshells to not fucking disturb you. and i’ll do all the paperwork and handle the finances and go to the bank

[juicycoutureheaux]

When it’s over Chapter 10

“I’ll haunt you”

The day of Walden’s arrival was uneventful.

It was actually kind of miserable due to the previous night’s events, her team members felt like they had to walk on eggshells around her.

She just shut herself into her work, creating a makeshift “lab” with one of the spare rooms. She thought it best to stick to herself and prepare her results for Walden’s arrival while the rest of the team was working with the Winters family.

It was around midday when she heard the rumble of a vehicle outside the building and stepped out to see Walden exiting the SUV.

“I am so glad to see you, Wally,” Anna said happily.

Walden was an older man, he was what some women in their department considered a “silver fox.” He had a rugged appearance, his physique was still in great shape and he had a rather handsome face.

The younger girls in the lab had deemed him “Wally” as their own way of flirting with him. He seemed to enjoy the nickname and attention. Anna thought it was mostly innocent since most of the girls were in committed relationships anyway, and Walden was older than all of them.

Wally smiled at her. “It’s good to see you, Anna. I’m sad to see you on Hound Wolf, you were one of my more talented employees.”

Anna smiled sadly. “Don’t say that, the other girls are great too.”

“None of them are you, Anna.”

Something in his voice made her uncomfortable, but she pushed the feeling down. It had been a while since she had seen him. She chalked up the unfamiliarity to not having close relationships with coworkers anymore.

“Should we get down to business then? I have some reports I want you to look over before I submit them to the higher-ups.”

“Of course Anna, always professional. Just like old times.”

Anna and Walden engaged in small talk while walking to the small, makeshift “lab.”

“How are you getting along with the others? How’s Captain Redfield treating you?” Walden asked genuinely.

“They’re nice enough,” Anna said, keeping things short.

“Nice enough, huh?” Walden said something in his voice wanting her to elaborate. She went with her instincts not to.

When they arrived at Anna's workstation she wasted no time producing her data.

“According to the blood samples here, the organic material collected differs from normal human tissue.”

“What are you insinuating, Connolly?” Walden asked, his voice grim.

“I don’t think Ethan survived the Dulvey incident,” Anna said in an almost whisper.

“This discovery is impressive, especially for someone like yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Anna said, slightly offended.

“I mean with your limited resources, you still came to this conclusion. I’m impressed.” Walden said.

“Well, I still want to run this by Captain Redfield before I submit my official report. I may be wrong. I’m sorry I disturbed you, Walden.” Anna said, backing up from her previous superior, to exit the room. Her gut was telling her it was a mistake bringing Walden here.

Walden moved closer to Anna pinning her between a table and himself.

“I think you know exactly why we can’t let Captain Redfield know, Anna.”

“Walden, what’s the matter? Do you have something against Chris?”

Walden scoffed. “Do you think Redfield knows what to do with this information? You’re wasting your time by taking orders from him.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I knew you would find out the truth about the Winters family eventually, I just thought I had more time to convert you, to the right cause.”

“Convert me? Walden we work for the same people, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anna’s spine felt like it was made of ice, but her skin was on fire.

Walden smiled a joyless smile, he looked like the Cheshire cat. “That’s where you’re wrong, sweet Anna.” He suddenly grabbed her face by her chin so she was forced to look at him.

“How’s your friend doing? From the club? Bunny, I think her name was?”

Anna forced her face away from his grip. “What the fuck are you talking about Walden? I think you need to leave. I should be in contact with Captain Redfield, he’s expecting me to update him.” Anna lied, hoping that it would deter Walden from whatever the hell he was going to do to her.

“Captain Redfield is busy with the Winters, you’re here all by yourself,” He saw right through her excuse. “I think you understand who’s in control of this situation.”

Anna felt her blood run cold. “Walden, did you have anything to do with Bunny?” Her eyes started to water uncontrollably. She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it.

“Look at you, Anna, starting to put the pieces together. That woman was an easy target, she was so quick to tell me all about you and the man who visited you at the bar.”

“Why would you hurt her? She was innocent in all this!”

“Anna, don’t you get it? She was close to you and was so quick to give information away to a stranger. She deserved to die.”

“You motherfucker!” Anna yelled and pushed him off. Walden was too strong though, and threw her to the ground in the process.

“Good to see Redfield has completely failed with training you.” He stepped closer to her as she tried to gain her composure.

“What do you want from me?”

“What do I want? I want you to join me Anna. You’ve got so much potential.”

“Why would I join you? You killed my friend! My sister!” Sobbed out at him.

“You have something I want, what we want. Potential to be a real researcher.”

“Who the fuck is we Walden? You’re fucking crazy! You need to be in prison for what you did!”

“How’s your roommate Anna? Didn’t you have a falling out because of your leaving? Wouldn’t they like to know you’re the reason your friend is dead?”

“They’re not a part of this.”

“They are. They’re a part of you, and I can take them away if you don’t do what I ask.”

Anna thought of the fear and betrayal in Bunny’s last moment, she would do anything to keep Lavish safe from the same fate.

“What do I need to do?”

“You can start by leaving with me,”

Anna just complied, she knew by agreeing it would buy her more time.

Walden had led her to some decommissioned research base, it had to have belonged to Umbrella at one time. The inside of the building was arid, making Anna’s lips chapped and making it harder to breathe.

Walden led her to a long, bright hallway with blinding manufactured light.

“Why did you bring me here Walden? Why didn’t you kill me back at the base?”

“You’re worth more alive, Connolly. You have a valuable skillset the Connections want.”

The Connections, the crime syndicate that Mia was working for and that was responsible for creating Eveline.

“So that’s who you’ve been working for, this whole time? Predictable.” Anna spat out, she was so mad she couldn’t have seen it before. She let herself get too close and was blinded by the trust that was assumed to be reciprocated. She couldn’t have been more incorrect.

“Apparently it wasn’t,” Walden quipped back. “You’re quite feisty when you’re wrong Connoly.”

They finally stopped in a fully equipped surgical room, it was obvious this moment had been orchestrated well before they had even received orders.

“ Is this what you wanted to show me? An operating room? This definitely could have waited.” Anna tried to say sarcastically, but her voice faltered.

“Anna, the connections wanted to make sure you were fully compliant before they met you in person, by any means necessary.”

She gulped. “What are you talking about?”

“I was sent here to give you the gift.” Walden said, quickly grabbing one of the syringes off the table. She vaguely recognized the liquid inside, it was a strain of the mutamycete that was responsible for the Dulvey incident.

She had to act fast, she threw down the surgical table to create distance between herself and Walden. She ran out of the room as fast as she could.

“Bitch!” Walden screamed, pushing off the table and chasing after her.

She ran around the familiar corridors trying to remember where they had initially entered the facility. She immediately came across a seemingly abandoned office when she heard Walden gaining on her.

“Damn him.” She thought. He had an advantage, he knew this building.

“Anna,” Walden called out, like they were two kids playing some demented version of hide and seek. “Please don’t fight me, you know its for the best. You’ll keep your family safe this way.”

She scrambled through the office desperate to find something to defend herself with, when she knocked a phone off the desk and a dial tone broke the silence. It was like a sign from God.

She scrambled over to the phone and quickly dialed Alpha’s number; but before he could pick up she heard Walden’s heavy foot steps come closer to the office. She had to leave.

She ran out of the office, but was unable to hang up the phone. On the other end all Chris could hear was a struggle and Anna’s scream.

Hound wolf wasted no time in tracking the location of the call, they were able to get to Anna’s location in no time.

The whole team arrived in their full gear, not wanting to take any chances. Alpha and Umber eyes were the first to storm into the building, finding a fully mutated Walden, but no Anna.

“It was you after all, you were the mole we were looking for, Walden.” Chris addressed the beast.

The monster gurgled in response before forcing out the words, “You’re too late.”

The team attacked the monster full force, still unsure of where their missing comrade was. Walden gave little, to no fight, like a pawn that had served its purpose, he was ready to die.

Chris began frantically searching with the rest of the Team for any signs of Anna or insurgents. The whole place seemed empty, until they walked further down the hallway and spotted a bloody trail littered with scarlet handprints. Somebody had been dragging their injured body to safety.

“Bambi! Bambi!” Canine began to scream and the rest of the team followed desperately in hopes their comrade would call out to them. The silence was deafening, until they heard a weak voice call from inside the office area.

She looked like a doll that had been tossed carelessly aside. Through her right shoulder, was a deep red wound where she had been impaled by one of Walden’s appendages. Blood was dripping from her mouth, it was evident she had fought hard and was barely conscious to prove it.

Alpha quickly ran to her side and propped her up, attempting to stop the bleeding from her wound. “Hey, stay alert, he’s gone. We’re going to get you out of here, Bambi.”

“I’m ready to go home, Chris.”

“We’ll get you home, I just need you to be awake okay? You did a good job here, we’re going to take care of you.” Chris began to plead. Canine stood there uncomfortably while the rest of the team were rushing to get Bambi evacuated to a hospital.

Bambi’s eyes rolled back into her head while Chris was barking orders to hound wolf.

Anna awoke in her childhood bedroom, the pink and green quilted comforter felt familiar beneath her fingers. Her room smelt of the clean linen airfreshener her mother loved to use. She moved from her room into the living room, into the dining room with the overhead light on, illuminating the two figures at the table with warm yellow light.

As Anna approached the two figures she quickly recognized them as her mother and Micheal. Anna felt a lump in her throat.

Her mother turned around and hugged her, she smelled the familiar scent of honeysuckle perfume and cigarettes. She felt the warmth only a mother’s hug could provide.

Anna didn’t want to let go of the feeling.

“Mama. I’ve missed you.”

She smiled at Anna, her blue eyes glittering at the sight of her daughter.

Anna’s attention was quickly diverted to her late husband, also waiting at the table. He looked exactly how she remembered, his auburn hair combed neatly atop of his head, his blue eyes were completely clear and bright. They shared an affectionate embrace and kissed eachother.

They all sat down at the dining table with Anna talking about all the things they had missed. Anna talked about her wedding to Micheal to her mother and Anna filled Micheal in all about moving to New York despite her claiming to him early on in the marriage she would never live in the big city.

She even talked about the BSAA and Chris. Suddenly, she felt ashamed about mentioning Chris in front of her husband. She never considered herself single after Micheal passed away, she still felt married, like her husband was at a business trip far away.

Micheal smiled at her knowingly and affectionately. “I’m happy for you, baby.”

She felt her eyes start to water. They moved up from the table into the home’s entry way, where her mother opened the door, revealing the most beautiful sunset. The neighborhood outside was hued with a sepia colored filter and she could smell the grass and the fruit trees in her front yard from when she was a child.

Anna turned around. There was an unfamiliar boy standing behind her mother and Micheal. He was lanky, with dark eyes and hair. She felt a strong platonic connection with him, despite never seeing him before.

She quickly turned to her mother and Michael with pleading eyes; this world was too sweet, she wasn’t ready to go.

“Do I have to?” Anna sobbed to her mother.

Her mother just nodded sadly.

“I’ll see you soon.” The boy said hugging her around the waist. Anna returned it, running her fingers softly through the boys dark brown locks.

She made her way through the doorway and the sky turned to a stormy gray.

She gasped herself awake and the sterile hospital scent filled her nose. The room was filled with the white light of early morning. There was no telling how long she was asleep.

A nurse walked in and upon making eye contact with a now awake Anna, the young lady ran into the hallway to grab the attending physician.

The next two hours was spent with doctors and nurses performing various cognitive tests on her. They claimed she had been in a coma like state and they were very close to placing her on full fledged life support, due to her lack of brain activity.

Anna felt sick to her stomach and had tried to vomit, but couldn’t due to lack of contents in her stomach. She was left dry heaving for most of the day.

The next morning, when she was finally deemed healthy enough to have outside guests, Hound wolf had made an appearance at the hospital, bringing flowers and a signed card.

“Okay, who’s idea was this? I’m finding it hard to think one of you thought of this on your own.” She said, joking.

The group laughed and pointed out, that it was their Alpha.

“Hey, I just thought it was the nice thing to do, it was cheaper than buying a funeral arrangement, that’s for sure.” Anna coughed out a laugh, due to still being hooked up to oxygen.

“I’m just glad you’re here, having each new shift rotation stare at me like a medical anamoly was starting to get a little old.” She said nonchalantly, but the rest of the room went silent.

Anna gulped, sensing the light hearted mood quickly change. “So how have you all been entertaining yourselves since I’ve been spending my time relaxing?”

“We’ve been relocating our friends in Canada.” Umber eyes responded flatly.

Anna’s brows furrowed until she realized what he was talking about.

“Oh damn, that must be a bummer for them.” She said twisting the bed sheets underneath her hands. How much did they know.

The room was awkward. Then the slightly ajar hospital door opened wide and in came Lavish and Anna’s sister Bridgitte.

“Oh honey! I’ve never seen you so pale before!” Lavish said hurrying in, not even acknowledging the rest of hound wolf.

“Lavish! I thought you hated me!” Anna said weakly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I never could hate you Anna-Banana! You didn’t have to get in this bad of a car accident to get me to talk to you again!”

Anna looked awkwardly at her team, whom were now making their exits. She realized the real reason she was in the hospital must be considered classified.

“Yeah, I barely remember anything at all.” Anna said, trying to sound confident.

“Damn, Anna,” Bridgitte sat down on the bed with her sister, “I knew you liked attention, but weren’t this desperate for it.”

Anna hit her sister with a pillow playfully.

“Now, now Anna, don’t get mad at Bridgitte. She’s right, you are a spotlight hog.” Lavish said, looking around the room acknowledging the others, sharing the space.

“I’m so sorry, Bridgette and I just barged in here, did we interrupt your visit?” Lavish said concerned.

“We were just leaving,” Tundra said smiling at Lavish.

“Well, aren’t you gorgeous and here I was worried about Anna being the only feminine energy on the team. It is a woman’s world.”

“Lavish seriously? Get some manners!”

Lavish turned around with faux offense on their face. “Anna, I was just saying how excited I am that you have a friend on the team.”

Anna buried her face in her hands.

Tundra shook Lavish’s hand. “I’m Emily and this is the rest of the team.” Gesturing over to the rest of Hound Wolf.

Lavish looked around the room and smiled with delight. “You’re a very attractive team. It’s nice to meet you,” they made eye contact with Chris “Oh Anna, I didn’t know Daddy was here! I should have known!”

Lavish was making it clear that even if Anna had escaped death she wasn’t going to escape the teasing. Anna definitely preffered this treatment over the cold shoulder treatment.

The room snapped their heads at Chris, then to Anna.

Chris cleared his throat. “I may have visited Anna at her bartending job before she was a member of our team.”

“BARTENDING JOB?” Canine looked shocked.

“Bambi was a bartender? Where? I wanna go!” Lobo said like a child who missed out on some excitement.

“We’ll discuss this later after she’s had some rest. I think its best if we give her some alone time, we’ve got a lot of work to do team.” Chris said ushering the team out the doorway.

They all said their goodbyes and left Anna alone with her family.

“Well, that’s cool I got to see who Lavish was talking about.” Bridgitte said

“You mean Chris? Yeah, he’s my boss.”

“He is very handsome, lots of nice muscles. Just like you said Lavish!” Bridgitte and Lavish had a laugh at Anna’s expense.

“You guys are whores.” Anna said holding back a smile.

“Oh lighten up, Anna.”

Anna only rolled her eyes and enjoyed the rest of the night laughing with her sisters, truly thankful she was alive.

[lovelywooz]

Kim Jungwoo - Enough

Hope you guys enjoy ! Not enough people write for Jungwoo so I only feel a little bit bad that most of my writing will probably be about him teehee! If you have any requests or would like to sat hi just send me a message and I’ll reply when I can :) otherwise please look forward to my next postings when they happen!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: This is VERY angsty. Mentions of past toxic and mean partners. Hurt-Comfort. All that good stuff.

Not comparing yourself to others is hard. But not comparing yourself to your immaculately perfect boyfriend? That is just plain impossible. You couldn’t possibly measure up.

*******************************************************

When you look at your boyfriend, it’s easy to tell why you love him. His laugh is contagious. He can brighten up a whole room with just his mere presence. He’s responsible and the hardest worker you’ve ever seen. And on top of all that, he is drop dead gorgeous. His delicate yet powerful frame compliments his fluffy hair and soft face. His tall stature doesn’t stop him from bending down uncomfortably just to rest a head on your shoulder. Simply put, he’s a total catch by anyones standards. And you’re so lucky to have him.

When you look at yourself, it’s hard to see the same value. Staring into your sullen eyes in the mirror, on nights like these you can’t help but wonder what he sees in you. How could someone so incredible really stay with someone as mediocre as you? Every day is like walking on eggshells, thinking endlessly on what to do to keep his interest and berating yourself when you do something that might be annoying. It’s a lot of effort to keep up the mask every day but if that’s what it takes then that’s what it takes. If he knew how much baggage you were carrying he would run away and never look back. You wash your face and try not to think about the way your fingers brush over a few forming blemishes on your skin.

You’ll never feel good enough for him.

You make your way downstairs to the dining room, adjusting the huge sweater draped over your frame on the way down. Its Jungwoo’s of course. You just couldn’t resist the idea of having his smell swathed around you and he didn’t seem to mind. You wished you could even be half as comforting to him but you doubt that. Sitting down at the dinner table, you look over the many steaming side dishes scattered about.

It was Jungwoo’s turn to cook dinner tonight. You’ve been trading off every other day as of this month. That way if he didn’t enjoy your food anymore he would only have to eat it for a few nights a week and he wouldn’t be burdened cooking for both of you every night. He’s probably so tired after work and you learned from a previous partner that if dinner isn’t consistently on the table, they would go eat dinner with someone else.

You hope that your little arrangement is a good enough compromise for Woo.

Your mind wanders back to this morning when you asked what he had in mind and he insisted he cook korean food for you. “I miss my mom’s cooking sometimes. I’m not nearly as good as her but… I really want to make something extra nice for you sweetheart”. He looked deep into your eyes, as if searching for something you couldn’t quite figure out. “Okay babe sounds great” you say, absentmindedly breaking eye contact while fixing your outfit in the mirror. You wear it all the time and yet it feels like it doesn’t look as nice as it used to.

You recall the time an ex of yours told you, “you’re too clingy in the morning, just leave me the fuck alone and do your routine and I’ll do mine”.

You don’t say anything more so as not to disturb Jungwoo while he brushes his teeth and fixes his fluffy hair. You want to reach out and brush your fingers over it so badly the way you used to, but you decide it would probably just piss him off. You gave him a short kiss before heading downstairs and out the front door, leaving him standing alone in your shared bathroom.

Jungwoo’s hands fall from his hair to the counter as he hears the door firmly shut. He wipes the mist from his eyes and tries to stop biting his nails before making his way out the door as well.

“… Well it’s not gonna jump onto your plate by itself sweetie”. Jungwoo broke you out of your thoughts with a weak laugh.

“Oh yeah. Sorry ha ha!” You move your chopsticks towards the dakgalbi thats wafting an irresistible aura and grab a few pieces to set on your small dish of rice. “I’ve been spacing out a bit lately.”

“You’ve been spacing out, a lot, lately actually.” Jungwoo clears his throat and stands up a bit from his seat to grab some kimchi. “Sorry. That came out weird... I’m just a little… well I’m worried about you.” He shoves the food in his mouth with gusto then opens it back up to regulate the temperature and swallows after a while. Leaving a very uncomfortable silence. He suddenly sets down his chopsticks and sits ramrod straight.

“I’m worried about us”.

You nearly choked on the rice you had only just started chewing.

“I didn’t want to do this now. I’m sorry I just can’t wait any longer I’ve been so worried lately”. He picks his hands up from the table almost confusedly and then brings them down to his knees, rubbing them quickly. He brings them back up in a matter of seconds though, in favor of running his hands through his hair fervently. His eyes are shifting anywhere but yours. All the habits he shows when he’s most nervous. “Did I do something wrong? Because you just don’t seem as happy to see me lately and, and I feel like, every time I compliment you or kiss you or touch you or anything you just”, he swallows heavily in an attempt to keep his voice from quivering, “You just, hate it. Like you barely even look at me anymore. I thought maybe it was just an off day or two for you, but it’s been weeks now”.

You open your mouth to speak, to offer him some explanation that would hopefully make it all better, but are pointedly interrupted by him. “No- I’m not done”, he stands up from his seat at the table and paces around for a moment before turning to face you directly, “I have to know. Don’t sugar coat it”. He looks up at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, and asks a question you couldn’t have prepared yourself for.

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

What. How could this have happened? The love of your life, in tears in front of you, because he thinks you don’t love him anymore? Him. In all his perfection. In all his kindness and intelligence. The man you’ve obsessed over night and day for years, finding a new detail to love about him every week. Of course you still love him, you’ve never doubted it for even a second. How could you have possibly made him think any differently? You’ve been controlling your actions so carefully so as not to disturb or annoy him. Where could it have gone wrong?

You then remember all the times you’ve said no to dates recently because you didn’t “feel like going out” when in reality you felt too guilty to let him waste even a bit of his hard earned money on you. The times you’ve skipped over romance movies and tv shows he suggests to watch together because they remind you you can’t offer him the fairytale love he deserves. All the nights he’s gently slid a hand up your thigh in bed and you pretended to be asleep because you felt like your body wasn’t pretty enough. Not calling him on the way home from work this week because you’ve been bawling your eyes out on the drive home in fear of losing him.

Oh god. The awful realization hits you all at once.

You’ve been so worried about holding him back. About hurting him. About your love not being enough. So focused on ‘fixing’ every insecurity in a desperate attempt to prove your worth to yourself and to him. So mixed up inside all of that, that the love you’ve been giving him all but dried up. And you upset him regardless. You failed.

“You’re not saying anything damn it why are you not saying anything?!” He is full on sobbing now when you come back to reality. “I love you so much. I don’t want anyone else so just please don’t leave me. I don’t know what I did to push you away but I’ll do anything to have you back. It’s only you. It’s only you…” His desperate pleading trails off as the scalding hot tears stream heavily down his face.

The tears have started in your eyes now as you finally speak. “Jungwoo… I love you so much. I love you just as much as I ever have. I’m head over heels for you. I never meant to make you feel this way I am so, so sorry.” You stand up from your chair as well and walk so slowly towards him. “The truth is, I just- I-“ you’re floundering against the tightness in your throat. Why is this so difficult?

“I feel like I’m not enough for you.”

He looks up from his arms. Oceans still rising underneath his eyes.

“I have so much baggage. From experiences and relationships that I’ve been too scared to tell you about. I just didn’t want to chase you away when you found out how messed up I am. I’m so scared to love because I don’t know how to do it correctly and I’m scared that I will create something that only hurts you. I still can’t even fathom how you could love someone like me. I’ve been agonizing all this time trying to be the best partner for you but I still can’t even do that right. Someone as perfect and beautiful as you deserved so much more than me.” You move a hand up to wipe his teary eyes, not realizing how much closer you are now than when you started. “So I hid everything. And pretended like it never happened. I decided to hide at first and maybe open up later but the years just caught up to me and the stakes grew higher and higher as I saw how amazing you are and fell so far in love with you that the idea of losing you because of my incompetence with love was just not an option anymore.” At some point he must have put his arms around you, because you register his comforting scent all around and feel your forehead land against his chest so softly as if it were a feather.

“How long, have you been feeling this way?” His voice is hoarse and soft from crying but he seems to have gained some control over his tear ducts. “I mean like- how long has it been building up inside?”.

“I don’t know. It’s been much worse lately. I’m so sorry Jungwoo.” Your answer will have to suffice for now because your throat is aching terribly from holding back your tears. You’re the one who hurt him, how could you possibly be letting Him comfort You? Once again you feel like you’re bringing him down. You can hear the harsh words and brutal truths from your previous partners nipping at your mind again. Only this time, his voice is there to break your spiraling.

“I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But there’s one thing that you should hear. If nothing else.” He brings you out of his arms to look him in the eye, making sure that you are holding his gaze by placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your shoulder. You’re expecting him to be so angry with you. This is the part where he leaves you forever. You’ve neglected him. You’ve inconvenienced him. You’ve ignored him. And-

“I don’t care what they told you about yourself. Whoever they are. I fucking love-“ his voice breaks in his sincerity, “I love you. I love everything about you. They way you love is perfect just the way it is. You’re my favorite part of life. And if this is something that we have to work on, then we will work on it together. We will get through this. But we can’t do that if you don’t talk to me. You have to let me in. I’m here to help you now. I’m not like them.”

Your body has a physical reaction to his words. They shoot up your spine like an electric shock and land right where your heart is. Never before in your life have you heard someone talk about you with such conviction. You can feel some part of your emotional walls crumbling away. The way he holds you like a treasure. The way he looks at you with more devotion than you can even fathom. Suddenly the voices of your exes get quieter.

“I love you so much sweetheart. You don’t have to be perfect. All you have to do is be yourself. You will Always be more than enough for me.” He presses his soul to yours in the form of a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Woo, I love you so much.” The dakgalbi is cold, but your hearts are so warm. In this moment you know for certain now. As long as you have each other,

Everything is going to be okay.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

.

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home. 

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose. 

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you. 

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one. 

“Oh you look terrible.” 

“Thanks I feel terrible.” 

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his. 

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—” 

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went,  exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.” 

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.” 

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry. 

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

.

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead. 

. 

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled. 

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger. 

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared. 

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date. 

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—” 

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” 

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

.

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then. 

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch. 

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven. 

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question. 

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake. 

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off. 

“Ah fuck what now.” 

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower. 

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you. 

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box. 

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways. 

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?” 

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations  long forgotten. 

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!” 

.

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night. 

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything. 

[missymurphy1985]

The Umbrella Girl (part 5)

Your first date with Cillian, and the aftermath...

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth

Warnings - language, and there's smut in this one 😉

You felt your pulse start to race. The nerves flowing through you like a river. You hadn't been on a date for more than 6 years. Steph had come over to help you get ready and calm your nerves.

"So where's he taking you?" Steph asked as she straightened the back of your hair. You sat at your mum's dressing table with a glass of wine.

"He wouldn't tell me, just said to wear something comfortable and be ready for 6:30," you smiled taking a sip of wine.

"And his revelation?" Steph raised an eyebrow at you in the mirror. You'd told her about it the next day, Steph was your sister and you trusted her with your life.

"It wasn't his fault, anyone in their right mind would know that. I plan on talking to him properly tonight, he needs to decide what he's going to do. Hiding from it will just make it worse." You remembered how upset he'd been and felt your eyes watering again.

"Don't you dare, that mascara isn't waterproof!" Steph pointed the straighteners at you, making you laugh. "You're right though. He's the sweetest guy on set. I knew you two would hit it off." Your turn to raise an eyebrow now.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe. Worked though, didn't it?" She smirked. Your sister was devious, not that you minded. The doorbell suddenly rang, making you jump.

"Shit.. he's here!" Steph ran down the stairs to let him in, you heard her say to wait in the lounge while you finished putting your makeup on. Steph came back into the room with a lipstick.

"Y/n... He looks amazing.. and he has a purple shirt on. You NEED this lipstick." She handed it to you, a beautiful shade of pale mauve. Perfect.

Once you were ready, you made your way downstairs. Your flowing black summer dress now accentuated with a pale purple necklace and matching earrings (loaned from Steph) and a black handbag and heels. Your feet were already aching from the heels - you never wore them - but you'd manage. There would likely be a restaurant involved at some point, you be seated for the most part.

Cillian was waiting in the living room in his purple shirt, smart dark blue jeans and boots, Emily sat next to him on the sofa, your mum watching them play I-Spy from the armchair. He glanced at you, and back at Emily.

"I spy with my little eye.... Something beautiful." He said, and Emily looked around the room and saw you, her mouth dropping. She'd never seen you like this.

"Mommy!!!" She ran over to you and wrapped her arms round your waist.

"Well I was going to say you Emily, but I guess your mama looks okay," he smiled, standing up to kiss your cheek softly. You batted his arm playfully, before picking your girl up to hug her tight.

"You be a good girl for Aunty Steph, okay?" Emily smiled and nodded. You turned to Steph and hugged her. "Thank you..."

Steph took Emily from you and smiled. "I've got snacks, movies, games, and.... I may have bought pancakes and waffles for breakfast..." Emily squealed with delight - sleepovers with Aunty Steph ALWAYS meant pancakes for breakfast! Your mum stood up in her nurses uniform and grabbed her bag. Normally she would have had Emily for you but she had a night shift tonight, hence Emily going to Steph's. It was easier for her to sleep there tonight rather than disturb her later.

"Have a great time y/n, and be careful, okay?" She kissed your cheek and squeezed Cillian's arm warmly. He nodded, and promised her you'd have a good night and he'd get you home safe. Your mum smiled and headed out the door to drive to work. Steph followed, with Emily and her overnight bag, leaving you and Cillian alone. He pulled you close and kissed your lips.

"Where are you taking me then Mr Murphy?"

"It's a surprise, but you need new shoes. Those heels look like agony!" He laughed. You agreed, and changed to a smaller, more comfortable pair.

Sitting in his car later that night, you smiled at the view. You'd been to the coast plenty of times before with Emily, but never at night. It looked so peaceful and tranquil. You had spent the evening in a small Italian restaurant in town, sharing a pizza and a bottle of wine. Cillian only had one as he was driving, but you were happy to finish the rest - although you were slightly slightly tipsy leaving the restaurant, you'd sobered up a little now.

"We need to talk about this Cillian, you can't avoid it forever." The alcohol making you feel braver, as you broached the subject he'd been so desperate to avoid all evening. He took your hand across the centre console.

"I've been thinking about it non stop since that talk in Sophie's trailer. I can't allow her to control me and my life - I'm sick of walking on eggshells. Afraid to move forward. I need to just get on with it, I'll just have to deal with the consequences won't I.." his voice trailed off and you squeezed his hand.

"I'm here too? You're not dealing with it on your own." He looked over at you and smiled, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. It soon intensified, both of you leaning into each other somewhat awkwardly over the gear stick and centre console trying to get to the other. You pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"I thought we were taking it slowly... If you keep kissing me like that I'm gonna break my promise..." He whispered, and turned on the ignition. You sat back in your seat, feeling the heat burning in your core. There was no way you were taking it slow, you needed him and soon.

15 minutes later you were outside your house on the doorstep, tongues down each others throats while his hands roamed over your back and down your legs. You fumbled in your bag for your keys, opening the door and crashing inside, bodies pressed together in the hallway. You pushed him back to catch your breath, before checking your watch.

"My mom won't be home for at least 3 hours..."

"You're seriously overestimating my stamina here y/n..." You giggled and led him upstairs to your room, thanking your earlier self for tidying it the day before. Your bodies fell together again when you closed the door, he lifted you off the floor and wrapped your legs round his waist, pressing you against the wall.

"I want you..." You almost growled in his ear as his erection pressed against your heat. He led you over to the bed, pulling your dress over your head and his shirt over his, trailing kisses down your neck and over your breasts. He lay you down, unclipping your bra as his mouth took one of your breasts, circling your nipple with his tongue. Your head pushed back against the mattress, hands gripping his hair as you pushed your hips up to meet him.

"Steady now.. I'll get there, don't worry..." And get there he did. Slowly moving his mouth lower, before peeling your panties down your legs, his lips brushing over your core lightly, teasing you.

"Cillian... Please...." He chuckled lightly before opening your legs as wide as they could. No one had ever done this to you before, you were both nervous and excited. In fact, no one else had actually given you an orgasm - you'd only been with one man, Emily's father, and he wasn't exactly hot on the foreplay side of things. Your thoughts were broken by Cillian's tongue suddenly on your clit, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself crying out his name. Your hips were grinding against his face now, mouth open as he took you to new levels of pleasure.

"Oh my god..." Your core was on fire as he pushed a finger inside slowly, followed by a second. Hooking them forwards, you felt an unfamiliar but incredible surge of heat. "Don't you dare stop...."

"Keep making those noises... Fuck... you taste and feel incredible..." he was back on you, sucking and licking harder now, his fingers pounding deep. Your orgasm built quickly, and you came hard - your back arched against the bed panting his name over and over. Once you'd calmed, his body was over you, your hands reaching down, pulling his jeans and boxer shorts down over his hips.

"Are you -"

"I've had the coil for three years, I was checked after my ex walked out.. you -"

"Checks done after the witch.. no one since.. ah shit...." he groaned, pushing into you agonisingly slow, filling you completely. You both stayed still for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being connected.

"I need you... Fuck me Cillian, please..." his hips moved, in and out before increasing the pace and the pressure. You could feel wetness leaking from you as he thrusted into you. You raised your hips to meet each thrust, sending you both closer to the edge.

"This isn't gonna be my best performance y/n... You're too beautiful... Feels too good..."

"If you think you're done after this you have a screw loose Murphy..." His thrusts were almost primal, your nails scraping over his back - Steph was going to have a hard time covering those in makeup on Monday..

"I'm gonna come y/n..."

It hit you like a steam train - you suddenly came hard with him, and felt his breathing labour as he spilled into you, his cum covering your walls.

"Jesus y/n.. you okay?" He was still inside you, kissing your neck softly.

"I'm amazing.. never better... Don't move.." you wrapped your legs round his waist keeping him inside as long as possible. He laughed, and rested his forehead on yours.

"You meant what you said?"

"About what?"

"I'm not done am I?"

"Fuck no. I haven't had sex in 6 years Murphy, buckle up." He chuckled and you could feel him harden inside you again as you clenched your muscles around him. His lips were on yours quickly, this was going to be a long night.

The following morning you woke from the deepest sleep you'd had in years. Cillian's body was gone though, which confused you. You stretched and climbed out of bed, you could smell breakfast being cooked which was odd. You looked at your watch, 8am, your mum would still be in bed...

Walking into the kitchen you found him knocking up bacon, eggs and sausages. A coffee cup on the counter waiting for you.

"What are you doing up? I was planning on bringing this up to you?" He felt your hands wrap around his waist as you kissed his back through his t shirt.

"What are YOU doing?"

"I went to the corner shop an hour ago - thought the least I can do is cook breakfast. Might stop your mam from killing me when she finds out I'm here?"

"You're something else, you know that?" His phone rang before you could kiss his lips. He frowned, answering it. He handed you the cooking utensils and walked into the living room to take the call. A few minutes later he walked back in, a worried look in his eyes.

"You're on Facebook, right? Can you have a look on there please?" You opened the app on your phone and gasped. There was a photo of the two of you all over facebook - you were leaving the restaurant hand in hand, another of the two of you kissing, another of his hand on your backside after a cheeky pinch when he opened the car door for you, someone must have spotted you and followed you back to your house - the final photo being of the two of you all over each other on your front doorstep. You couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Well... This kisses goodbye to 'taking it slow' doesn't it?" You smiled.

"We kissed goodbye to that last night y/n... I'm so sorry..."

"Why? I knew what I was getting into?"

"Because Lisa is gonna see this, and it's about to get ugly, that's why."

"Bring it on Murphy. Remember, we're in this together." You linked your fingers with his and kissed him. Ready to face it, side by side.

How bad could it be, really?

[kaori-flowers]

I kinda rushed the ending bc im tired but here's another one! Enjoy :)

Or at least try to!

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Technoblade was up in the night doing his usual research but a light caught his eye. He gently set his books down and looked out his window on the right side of his house. He could see Ranboo's house was well lit and smoke was coming out of the chimney. Techno watched the house quietly, unsure of what Ranboo was actually doing.

While Technoblade was watching Ranboo's house, Ranboo was working in his basement. He carved out a small edward figurine, and a small Carl figurine. Ranboo was using Dark oak wood for edward, and Spruce wood for Carl. He hummed quietly as he whittled the wood down to make it take shape. Despite being very tired he continued working, being very grateful that Techno was letting him live so close. Ranboo was greatly appreciative of Techno, and even though he had to pay rent in gifts he was still happy.

"Hmph."

Technoblade turned away from the window and went back to reading, since he couldn't see movement in the house. The curiosity of what Ranboo was doing was still in the back of his mind though. It made it hard for him to focus on any work and so he got annoyed and slammed his book shut. Technoblade put the book on the shelf before sliding down the later into his room. He sighed heavily and flopped down in his bed, pulling the pillow over his head and growling.

Techno was severely annoyed at the curiosity that Ranboo caused, because he figured he shouldn't be curious. Techno didn't really want anything to do with Ranboo, because he was afraid. He was worried really. Techno didn't want to get attached to Ranboo, because everyone he's gotten attached to has either left him or died. Except for fucking Phil. So Techno doesn't want to risk the loss of another person that he has grown fond of seeing all the time.

"Phil...."

Ranboo couldn't decide if he should whittle a small figurine as well. Ranboo knew how well Techno and Phil was conncected but he didn't want to go overboard with gifts. As much as Ranboo appreciated Techno, he didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard. Ranboo didn't want to push Techno with all the things he's giving him and annoy him. So he had to be cautious with what to make for him and when to give it to him.

"Ugh."

Ranboo stood up from the small chair and cracked his fingers, then his back. He walked up his stairs to the main part of his house and looked out the window. Technoblade's house was completely dark and there was no movement inside. Ranboo figured he went to bed, and checked the clock on his wall. He sighed and cracked his fingers again before walking back downstairs to his basement.

Ranboo gently took care of his carving tools and swept all the little pieces up with his broom. He dumped them in his recycling bin before gently grabbing the little figurines. Ranboo walked back up stairs with them in hand, and sat down at the table. He got a pen and paper, scribbling down a small note neatly. Then he set the figurines in a basket and taped the note to the handle. Ranboo also put 4 potatoes and a 2 brown mushrooms in the basket. He got up from the table, and began getting dressed quickly. It didn't take long and as soon as he eas fully dressed he was headed out his front door.

"Get up, you got a present!"

Technoblade was woken up abruptly by a very loud Phil, and slight shaking. He groaned and sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes softly and trying to focus on what was happening. Phil gave him his glasses and held the basket he found on the porch patiently. Techno put his glasses on and blinked a few times, finally focusing in and waking up more. Phil set the basket on Techno's lap and read the note out loud for him.

"Techno. Thank you for letting me live so close to you. I hope you enjoy this as I hand made them just for you. I will be out of the house collecting things for a while so if you need me come find me. From Ranboo."

Technoblade didn't need time to process what he heard because it hit him hard. Especially the part about hand making something just for him. Techno still slightly dazed opened the basket gently and looked inside. The figurines were the things that stood out to him right away, and he waisted no time in grabbing them. Techno made sure to be gently with them as he looked them over slowly, and Phil watched silently. It took a second for Techno to realize that they were little carved figurines of Edward and Carl. Once he figured it out though he woke up fully and looked them over more quickly. Techno was surprised at all the detail in such little figurines, and how soft they were was astonishing. No one had actually ever MADE him something before so he was flabbergasted.

"He's real sweet huh?"

Technoblade looked up at Phil quickly, and then looked back to the figurines. He got up quickly and began putting his shoes on in a rush. Phil watched him as he rushed to get around and get dressed. After Techno assumed he was fully dressed and ready to leave Phil grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop. Techno looked at him unsure what else he was forgetting. Right now all he wanted to do was find Ranboo and thank him.

"Eat. And coat."

Technoblade grabbed the basket and pulled a potato out of it, quickly scarfing it down in front of Phil. Phil rolled his eyes but let go of Techno because he technically ate. Techno then grabbed his coat and put it on quickly, before rushing out to his little barn. He untied Carl and hopped on him riding him out into the snow quickly. Phil rolled his eyes again and began cleaning up Techno's scattered and messy house.

"God damn it...."

Techno growled to himself as he qucikly got his emotions under control and stopped Carl from running any further. He clenched his jaw and looked down at his lap, closing his eyes for now. Carl stood patiently, feeling the difference in his emotions and voice. Techno was severly upset with himself. Technoblade didn't want to get close to Ranboo, because if he did then he would lose him. He always loses others. They die or they leave him and he didn't want Ranboo to die. He especially didn't want Ranboo to leave him. But....

Ranboo would never leave him, not now and not ever. Ranboo was insanely grateful for how well Techno was treating him. Ranboo felt like he wasn't walking on eggshells anymore, and he felt safe here. Ranboo felt safe living close to Technoblade in this snow bionome. Which was different than what he felt when living in L'manburg, and he liked this new feeling. He liked feeling safe. There was no way he would ever give that feelimg up. Not now. Not even.

"Are you alright?"

Techno's chest tightened as he heard Ranboo's voice, and he didn't move from his position. Techno didn't want anyone to see him like this, especially not Ranboo. It was Ranboo's fault! Techno was all upset and struggling because of this awkward enderman asshole! He annoyed Techno for that reason, and yet there were 1000 other reasons why Ranboo was so good. Techno's heart was set on getting attached to Ranboo no matter how afraid he was. It was inevitable. This tall lanky enderman boy was winning Techno's heart over just by being his nervous introverted self.

"Techno?"

Technoblade finally looked up from his lap and opened his eyes, finally getting his emotions under control. He cleared his throat a few times before holding his hand out to Ranboo, indicating he would give him a ride back. Ranboo hesitated a little but grabbed his hand and climbed up on Carl, behind Techno. Ranboo gently held the side of the saddle and Techno turned back to the house, both silent now. Techno's ears kept folding back slightly as he fought with himself mentally to say somethimg anout the figurines. Finally he decide and cleared his throat once.

"The gift is very well appreciated."

Techno cringed mentally as he heard himself speak. That sentence was absolute shit but it was the best he could do. Ranboo smiles gently and enjoys the attempted praise from Techno. It wasn't exactly an amazing one but it was Techno, so what do you expect.

"You're welcome."

"Yeah. I'll make sure they're taken care of it."

Techno grumbled and went silent after that, and Ranboo decided not to disturb his peace. Technoblade thought of the figurines that were in pocket and his ears folded back slightly. He wanted to put them up so they would never get hurt or lost but.... Techno wanted to keep them with him. For good luck. And maybe a memory of Ranboo. So just incase Ranboo did go away....

He would have this left of him.!

[vin-taege]

low expectations | 3

summary: after disappearing for six years to pursue law, you come back to Seoul, only to be hired by Jeon Jungkook, tattoo artist on the rise, and your high school ex

genre: angst, eventual smut, l2e2l (lovers to enemies [kinda?] to lovers)

pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x lawyer!reader

words: 3k+

note: i am back

"Mmm holy shit, I missed bread," You stared at Taehyung, who was shamelessly stuffing croissant after croissant in his face. Jimin sipped his latte awkwardly. Jungkook was back in his usual reserved state, silent, though visibly disturbed by Taehyung's lack of table etiquette. The whole table was captivated by the tattoo artist's seemingly never ending appetite, and at this point, Jungkook began to regret letting him borrow his credit card. Namjoon was first to break the silence. 

"So," he cleared his throat. "We came up with a list of possible suspects. The cocaine packet we found was already sent to a facility for DNA testing.”

"It's not exactly a list. More like one person," you got the case file out your bag. What back then was a thin folder filled with a singular page was now filled with paperclips and slightly dishevelled pages - the fruit of your research with Namjoon. You took the picture you printed out of the Gwangju rapper and put it beside a recent picture of Jung. "Don't these two conveniently look alike?" 

Jungkook leaned in to get a closer look, eyes straining to grasp any familiar features he could pick up from the low quality print. Suddenly, Yoongi jolted up, snatching the picture from the table. "How did you get this?"

"You know him?"

"Yeah, it's Hoseok. He went under the name 'J-Hope' back then until he just disappeared."

Taehyung hacked back a cough, a huge chunk of bread lodging itself in his throat. Jimin thumped him worriedly on the back, waving the rest of you off to ignore them. You continued questioning Yoongi." Joon, write this down. Can you elaborate on that?"

"I went against him back then Gyeongsangnam."

"He sucked ass."

"No, I mean, what happened after? Did you notice anything interesting about him? Something out of place?"

"Oh, well... From what I recall, he does look awfully a lot like Minho. Almost the same person. It's weird because they have the same last name too."

Namjoon shared a wary look with you. "Changing identities is very common for people in the illegal drugs industry. I'll get someone from the firm to run a background check on him."

You nodded. "Anything else?"

"I remember the police coming to raid the place. You know how there are some underground rapping contests? Ours was really underground. No ads, only word of mouth. You have to know someone there to get in. So we knew someone must've fucked up real bad for the police to get involved."

That's why you couldn't find any musical records or history on him. Namjoon was typing away at his laptop, seemingly getting the same idea.

"To be fair, nothing we did was illegal. The competition, the prize money, all legal. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was they caught Hoseok possessing marijuana. They shut everything down and took him with them. Never seen him ever since."

Everyone went silent again - even Taehyung ceased his coughing. Namjoon finished typing, readjusting his glasses." What year did that happen?"

"Somewhere in 2013. I think it was in April?"

"You mean to say,"  Jimin spoke up. "This Hoseok guy coincidentally disappeared six months before Soliloqy opened?”

Your jaw dropped, Namjoon mirroring your shocked expression. The tattoo artists looked at you in confusion, not getting what the big fuss was about. You lightly backhanded Namjoon on the chest, “Our theory’s plausible.”

“What theory?” Jungkook cut in. He wasn’t too worried about the case at first, but now that there were mentions of underground drug deals, he felt a bigger threat lurking around in the shadows. He just wants to be left alone - doesn’t want to lose the shop he risked everything for. 

“Hoseok and Minho are the same guy. We don’t have enough evidence to prove this, but we’ll continue to dig into it. The drugs, the blurry photos, Minho rarely seen outside and when he is, he’s always wearing a mask - these all scream fishy to me,” you paused to slide the pictures back into the folder, returning it into your bag. 

Taehyung slurped noisily on his iced tea. “This is some Scoobydoo shit.” He tapped his fork on his plate, confused to be met with the clinking of silverware. Bread crumbs and smears of strawberry jam greeted him, making him pout. Tugging Jungkook’s sleeve, he pointed his fork at his empty plate. “I’m all out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He dug his credit card out his wallet for the nth time and placed it on Taehyung’s side. The older boy looked expectantly at him. “Well?”

“Can’t you buy it for me?”

“Oh my god-”

“I’ll buy it for you,” you smiled endearingly at Taehyung. He grinned back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jungkook stilled, an unreadable expression on his face. Without waiting for him to respond, you stood up, leaving the table and stood in line at the counter. 

To your surprise, Jungkook followed after you, taking his place behind you in line. “You don’t have to. He’s already spent over 30 000 won on pastries, and it’s only been two hours.”

“Oh come on, you’re acting as if we weren’t close back in high school,” you froze, realizing how wrong your words might have sounded. Back then, you could read him like an open book. Knew exactly what would set him up, where his boundaries were. But now, it was like walking on eggshells around him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “Maybe I should cut you some slack,” he said more to himself than to you.

"Yeah," you mimicked him. "Maybe you should."

"Seriously. I appreciate it. I appreciate you taking the case even after what happened between us back then," But the thing is, you didn't know it was him in the first place. It was unfair for him to think so highly of you. You knew you didn't deserve his kind words. Jungkook didn't change a bit - he was still shit at holding grudges. 

°°°

6 years ago

"Where are you?" Jungkook sobbed into the phone. Taehyung peered at him worriedly from the living room. The walls of his small dorm were thin, and Jungkook's side of the conversation was enough for him to piece together what you two were arguing about. "You promised."

"Tell her I'll come with you," he said, after a minute of silence. "I'll even work for her. I'll take the job offer she gave me. Please don't leave me."

He was so close to tearing his hair out. It's been a week since he last talked to you - you've been ignoring his calls and texts, Taehyung didn't know where you were, or if he did, he wasn't telling, and even your father hadn't been responding to him. And now you finally emerge from wherever the hell you've hidden in, telling him you were set to go to college in the States. 

"The job offer's gone, Kook. You're too late. My mom already booked the ticket, paid for my tuition. I can't turn back now," You were packing your bags back in Daegu. Taehyung's family was nice enough to let you stay for a few days until you were ready to go. Taehyung, along with your father, had explained your situation to them, and they were more than willing to help - though hesitant at first since they were also close to Jungkook. 

"Why are you hiding from me? Just tell me where you are. At least talk to me properly, please  ___," He kept walking in circles around the room, thinking of anything he could do. He felt so utterly helpless, sick to his stomach. "Please."

"At least tell me where you are!" He shouted into the phone. His mind was in a frenzy. Taking his wallet, he paid Taehyung no attention and ran out of the apartment, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans to protect him from the cold.

Taehyung ran after him, stopping him just before he could get into the subway. His phone was still in his hands, though you had already stopped talking on the other line. You brought the phone speaker away from your mouth, trying your best to muffle your sobs. He was still on the other and, yelling, pleading, begging to know where you were. At the back of your mind, your mother's words still echoed.

"You have no future with him, ___. He has nothing. No proper ambitions, no practicality, no sense of reality. He is weighing you down. If he wants to waste his potential, then that's on him. But he is not going to do the same to my daughter."

Taehyung was holding him back, trying to convince him to go back to his dorm. In the end, he dragged Jungkook back into the warmth of his room. The call was still ongoing, both ends of the line going silent until you finally ended it - along with your two-year relationship.

°°°

"So we're friends again?" you gave him a lopsided grin, offering your hand out to him. Guilt squeezed your heart. 

"Yeah," he looked away for a moment, pretending to be interested in the menu. He brought his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, before murmuring. "I missed you, ___."

When you came back, Taehyung kept staring at you, a suggestive smile on his face. You brushed him off, praying Jungkook didn't notice it too. The older boy traded - rather, forced to trade - seats with Namjoon, in favor of sitting next to you. A fresh plate of pastries sat in front of him, though his interest was on you alone. 

"I see you and Jungkookie are finally getting along," he whispered the moment Jungkook was distracted by Namjoon's relentless questioning. 

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. "We're back to being friends. I'm just glad things aren't that awkward anymore."

"Took you a while to get off your high horse," he muttered, though his tone was playful. You still didn't get how he seemingly manages to brush everything under the rug. 

°°°

6 years ago

"___, you're hurting him," Taehyung hissed, keeping his voice low to not wake Jungkook up. He took a cautious glance around the place, sensing the younger boy was still asleep. "I didn't sign up for this. You told me you were only going away for four years. Why the fuck aren't you coming back?"

"I will come back," It was midnight. You were supposed to be sleeping. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the Kims' strawberry farm. Everything reminded you of Jungkook - his love for strawberries, his fascination with nature. Above you, the moon gazed upon the earth, accompanied by millions of blinking stars. And somewhere under that same moon, was the boyfriend you neglected.

"I just need a few years. Law school is not that easy, Tae. And I just can't go straight back there after I graduate. I need to work, I need to at least make a name for myself."

"I understand you don't want to disappoint your parents. I really do. What did you think I felt knowing my brother and my sister were aiming to be an engineer and a doctor, while I was going to take on a fucking arts course?" he took a deep breathe, forcing himself to calm down. "I know Jungkook doesn't have the most conventional dream out there, but at least explain everything to him. I can't see him hurting anymore."

"I did explain everything. "

"Telling him you were going abroad after ignoring him for one whole week isn't explaining, ___!"

"He won't understand! I'm only going to hurt him more," you ran a hand through your hair, the knotted mess getting pushed back. "I'll call him again by the time I'm in America."

"You better. I know I helped you because you were my friend, but he's my friend too. He's my best friend. And let me tell you, he is feeling depressed, ___. Your boyfriend is hurting because of you. At least be aware of that," Without another word, Taehyung ended the call.

You stared at the endless fields of strawberries and trees in front of you. Some of the leaves were already starting to brown in preparation for autumn. Not that you'll still be in Korea by the time it comes.

°°°

"So, what made you change your mind about her?” Taehyung was hunched over the arcade game, eyes stuck on whichever character he was beating to a pulp. The three of them were closing up shop. Jimin was still tidying up the customer lounge, while Jungkook and Taehyung waited for him in the employee room. Jungkook was on the other side, concentrating on designing a tattoo commission. 

“What do you mean?” he didn’t spare the older boy a glance. He was getting frustrated with this particular design. He had already gone through half a stack of paper just trying to get it right, and none of the sketches he has done so far looked right. 

“I mean-” he paused, letting out a grunt when he lost a round. “The first time you saw her again, you wouldn’t even talk to her. And before that, you wouldn’t even talk about her.”

“She’s our lawyer now. Of course I have to talk to her.”

“No, what I’m saying is- ah shit!” he slammed his hand onto the side of the machine. “Why the fuck won’t I jump? What the fuck?!”

“As I was saying,” he continued after putting in another token. “Yeah, she’s our lawyer and we have to be cooperative for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, you were different at the cafe. First of all, you bought me some food - which you never do.”

“Rarely do,” Jungkook corrected, pencil continuing to scrape on the paper. 

“Same thing. And you were giving her all these soft looks. Like a puppy or something.”

“I was?” Jungkook’s eyes widened, abruptly halting his sketching process. Taehyung had his full attention now. “Was I really, Tae? Honestly? If I was, do you think she noticed?”

“Maybe. I dunno. She looked really focused on the evidence folder and shit. But yeah, anyone could tell you missed her just by seeing the way you look at her. It’s kinda like the way you used to look at her back when you two were...” Taehyung never finished the sentence. Instead, the sound effects from the arcade game filled the room. Taehyung knew just how far he could touch that area, and not once did he cross the line; he still didn’t know if it was safe or not.

“You can’t keep hating her forever.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Well then, you can’t keep holding a grudge against her. I know what she did to you was utterly hurtful. I was there to witness shit hitting the fan. But you know, you’re bad at holding grudges. Especially against someone who was a big part of your life. I’m not saying you still love her. I’m just saying, you can’t...” After what felt like an eternity, Taehyng pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “You can’t pretend like you’re not getting affected by any of this. You get me?”

The older boy sighed, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist to stop him from sketching. “If you stopped living in total denial, you would realize that you’ve stopped designing the tattoo, and instead, have been sketching her for the past 15 minutes.”

Jungkook straightened up in his chair, getting a better look at the paper. There, in fact, was a messy, but distinguishable sketch of your face. Before he could react, a brown paper bag was plopped onto the papers. 

“I re-heated some grilled cheese and double-locked the back door. We’re good to go,” Jimin leaned one of the chairs next to Jungkook. He bunched up the papers and shoved them into his bag before Jimin could see. 

“We’re good to go,” he repeated.

The night was cold. There were only a few people in the streets, illuminated by the scattered lamp lights. The streets were damp - they didn’t even notice it rained. They walked in silence, both boys sensing the younger one’s dread. Not because he hated you, but because he didn’t know what to feel anymore. 

“It’s gonna be okay kid,” Jimin wrapped an inked arm around him. “You just need some closure, that’s all. Talk to her and see how it goes. If it turns out good, then it’s good. If it turns out bad, I have a friend over at the Naughty Bunny who can get us inside without having to wait in line.”

Jungkook chuckled, thinking about all the times Jimin came to work with a pounding headache and love bites all over his neck. He shook his head, “Thanks for the offer hyung, but I have to pass. ___ might call for an emergency meeting and-”

He stopped abruptly, making the boys halt. Taehyung made a move to speak, but Jungkook waved him off, signalling for him to keep quiet. The older boys looked at each other in confusion. In the distance, just beneath the shadows of an alley next to Soliloquy, a tall figure hunched in front of the brick wall, fumbling with something in his hands. It was too dark to see, but Jungkook was sure it was him.

Without warning, he bolted towards the man, Jimin and Taehyung running after him. The figure took a second before noticing him, but by the time he went to run, he was already cornered. Jungkook grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall. 

“Yah! Don’t run off like that you brat!” Jimin started scolding him. He didn’t even notice Taehyung tugging on his sleeve, muttering his name.

“Hyung. Hyung. Jimin. Jimin hyung. Jiminie.”

“What?” he asked, annoyed. Taehyung pointed at the boy in Jungkook’s hands, his eyes terrified, pupils blown out in such a way he knew he wasn’t sober. His hand hung limply, sluggishly trying to get Jungkook off him. There was the man himself - their greatest rival. “Son of a bitch-”

“Yah, Jung Minho, ” Jungkook said. “We have to talk.”

[aelysianmuse]

DESTIEL FIC REC

Okay, so, fanfiction is something that has brought me so much joy, entertainment and comfort during these hard times. These are the Destiel fics that I have bookmarked and would suggest for everyone to read. They are top notch in every department and I’ve read each and every multiple times. I wrote them down from the lowest word count to the highest and I linked the authors to their tumblr accounts, whenever I could find them, so please go shower them with love!

Touchstone - by xylodemon -   Words: 3,519 - Summary: "You're in pain," Cas says finally. He sounds sad. (Episode tag for 11x03, the one where Dean is hurt but doesn’t think he deserves Cas healing him. Cas disagrees and makes heals him in loveliest, most tender way. Everything is beautiful.)

Colette - by englandwouldfall - Words: 4,218 - Summary: Cain’s prediction keeps ringing in his ears. He’s going to kill Crowley, then Cas, then Sam. It makes sense to him. He hates how much sense it makes, but there’s something almost poetic about it; it’s circular, neat, the Mark wants it. The Mark wants to destroy everything, but most of all it wants to destroy Dean. And that would do it. (Episode tag 10x14, Dean struggling with the Mark, unable to deal with all the anger and urge to kill and Cas trying to be his savior Collette. Feelings are acknowledged but things are far more complicated than that.)

Newton’s Third - by felolle - Words: 6,220 - Summary: “How can I be running from something when I’m racing toward it?” “I dunno -- kinda your thing.” Thanks for the call out, little brother (Episode tag 14x03, Cas helping Dean deal with Michael possession. Awesome character portrayal!)

Take me home tonight - by persephoneshadow -  Words: 8,111 -  Summary: The one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help (It’s a PWP where it takes some jealousy for Dean to get his head out of his ass - and Cas knows exactly what he’s doing)

Boys on film - by loversantiquities - Words: 8,540 - Summary: But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”Dean chokes on his burger. (Basically Dean does cam-shows, Cas knows. They get it on in the end.)

Cuckoo and Nest - by komodobits - Words: 10, 190 - Summary: For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. (Boys walking on eggshells around each other, Castiel mistaking Dean’s neatness for annoyance about Cas’s lack of thereof, Dean mistaking Cas’s apprehension for having one foot out of the door. Miscommunication that gets resolved. It’s delightful!)

Just turn around and go - by Porcupinegirl - Words: 11,320 - Summary: Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas. (Some angst and miscommunication among roomies who are in love but needed a little push to finally do something about it, and that push is Cas deciding to move out and live with his actual boyfriend. Things work out just fine.)

So glad we made it - by annie d (scaramouche) - Words: 16,421 - Summary: At twelve years old, Dean makes a friend, who becomes his best friend, who will eventually become the love of his life. (Destiel fic in which they know each other since childhood and take their sweet-ass time with admitting to each other that they’re otp: meant to be. But it happens. Timeline of little snippets that show them falling in love and owning that shit up, at last!)

I know who I want to take me home- by annodominique -  Words: 17,548 - Summary: The one where Dean and Cas are new workmates who hate each other's guts, are somehow forced into driving each other crazy because they secretly want to fuck, and they might have fallen in love with each other in the process. (Lots of sexual tension, mutual pining and enemies to lovers storyline - all in a nursing home. It’s amazing and absolutely heartwarming.)

Welcome to humanity - by winnywriter -  Words: 19,944 - Summary: Castiel is falling, slowly but surely becoming fully human. Every day there is something new to discover, and many of those discoveries are not wholly pleasant ones. And the whole time, Dean can't help but worry about the fact that the further the angel falls, the more he finds he likes the human Cas is becoming. (It’s exactly what the summary says it is. Moments of Castiel slowly becoming human and Dean trying to help him navigate that path while navigating it himself in the most Dean way possible)

On air - by wincechesters - Words: 21,219 - Summary: Cas and Dean are radio DJs who host the second most popular morning show in Lawrence. They’ve been co-hosts for years at different stations across the country, and they own a house together out of necessity, even though they’re just friends. But for some reason, a lot of their listeners and even some of their friends and family seem to think that they’re secretly in some kind of relationship, which they’re totally not (besides that one time that totally doesn’t count). In spite of that, Dean thinks he’s got everything figured out, until an ill-fated on air game of Truth or Dare turns everything upside down (and the billboards around town aren’t helping either). (Friends to lovers story that’s very well summarized, so I have nothing to add except that it’s such a wonderful read, this author is absolutely amazing and you should definitely read it.)

The Beach House in the Winter - by englandwouldfall - Words: 23,715 - Summary: They're not exactly in a good place right now, so it was probably a bad idea to agree to a full Milton family reunion at their old summer haunt to mark a year since Cas' father died.Obviously, he did it anyway. (This is a second part of a series, I absolutely suggest reading all of the works ‘cause they’re equally wonderful, but I read this one first and individually and loved it the most so I’m suggesting it. Look at tag warnings. It’s about Dean having panic attacks mid sex due to trauma, Castiel trying to treat him right and handle the situation properly. They love each other so much ugh)

There are many things - by imogenbynight -  Words: 28,807 - Summary: In which Dean and Castiel learn, through trial and error, how to be together. (What starts out as an angsty fic that follows Cas’s human experience after Dean kicked him out of the bunker, turns into a Destiel falling in love fic as they find their way back to one another)

Sometimes it fits - by ballsdeepinwinchesters -  Words: 37,720 - Summary: Castiel is an over-worked, socially awkward neurosurgeon; Dean is the ruggedly handsome paramedic that asks him out for drinks. The rest kind of fell into place. (Two hotties with busy work schedules having lots of sex and being domestic. It’s a lot of fluff and smut. No angst.)

Put up your dukes - by saltyfeathers - Words: 38, 282 - Summary: Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out. (Dean struggling to accept the sexual tension relief Castiel is oh-so-eager to offer. So much tension, sparring goodness and bed sharing.)

All’s well that ends well - englandwouldfall - Words:  52,326 - Summary: Dean knew the second he took off that he shouldn't have left, but that didn't mean he could have guessed what he'd be coming back home to. (It’s actually a part 4 of the series, and I do suggest reading the entire series, but I read it first and individually before even realizing this and I absolutely loved it nonetheless. It’s about both Dean and Cas having made some poor choices in the past, abandonment and infidelity and two of them loving each other so much that they’re willing to forgive and fight for each other no matter what. Angsty and beautiful.)

A midterms night’s dream - by englandwouldfall -  Words: 75,756 - Summary: There's at least fifteen good reasons why they're not sleeping together, it's just that Dean can’t remember them when Cas sends him one second dirty snapchats to goad him into doing the dishes. (One of my absolutely favorite fics and one of my top 3 fic authors (does a lot of series, which gets you really emotionally invested!). I suggest you read literally every single Destiel story written by this author, ‘cause it’s consistent in character portrayal and in invoking emotional response and I’ll probably explicitly write down at least one more story that I particularly liked from them. This one’s about them being college roomates who’re basically oblivious to sharing sentiment of wanting to be in relationship with the other, so they pine emotionally while having exceptional we-are-strictly-fuck-buddies sex)

Version 2.0 - by elizabeth1985 - Words: 75,937 - Summary: Life is nothing but a series of processes. We rise, we work, we function within the walls we’ve designed for ourselves. Dean Winchester does not deviate from this system. Heavily tattooed and a certified genius; Dean necessitates control. Relationships are a no-go. Too messy, unpredictable. And yeah, he knows having casual sex with his best friend, roommate, and business partner is a dumbass move. But Cas’ suggestion is impossible to resist.What Dean doesn’t expect and couldn’t possibly predict is the unique way Cas manages to shut down his mile-a-minute mind, giving him a level of inner peace he’d thought to be unattainable.What starts out of convenience morphs into a dynamic emotional slide neither of them were prepared for, forcing them to decide what they’re willing to risk. (Cas and Dean being business partners turning to fuck buddies turning to mutually pining idiots, where Cas won’t let things progress further ‘cause Dean is so entwined in every single aspect of his life that he’s absolutely terrified to lose it all. But Dean makes an effort to show him otherwise!) + It’s hard to fool around in a tent (Words: 5,861)

Any little heartbreak - by followthattardis - Words: 76,897 - Summary: Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart. Well. Anatomically speaking. (Very Grey’s Anatomy-y, Dean is a thriving cardiosurgeon, Cas is his new surgical nurse assistant, there are so many well written characters, so much gossip, gratuitous sex and eventually a relationship. It’s so lovely, ugh I love this writer.)

A crash course in computer safety - by followthattardis - Words:  85,269 - Summary: On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong. (This is a NBC: Chuck AU and one of my top 3 fics ever. I haven’t watched Chuck at all and regardless of whether you have or not, I don’t wanna write anything else in this section ‘cause I enjoyed discovering every bit of information on my own. I’ve literally taken this fic and studied/analyzed it as a writer myself to take pointers on accurate character portrayal and writing style. It’s book material, I’d literally buy anything this author writes. It’s becoming a series and more content is to come so I suggest subscribing.) + Curtain up (Words: 10,311)

La hantise (The only work in progress fic here) - by quiettewandering - Words:  87,468 - Summary: Castiel’s mother dies, leaving him the family home that sits abandoned on the moody coast of Maine. He’s forced to return to the past ghosts of his trauma, as well as meeting the mysterious and nomadic Dean Winchester. Dean offers to help Castiel fix up the house so he can sell it, which quickly becomes problematic as Castiel begins to develop feelings for Dean; especially when details of Dean’s troubling past come to light.This is a story about the sea, second chances, and two broken, forgotten people building a love between them while restoring a broken, forgotten house. (Romance, ghosts, house renovation, cliffhangers, angst - I am awful with WP’s, never read them till they’re done ‘cause I’m an impatient one but this is the one I couldn’t resist and thoroughly enjoy)

Ignore the butterflies: best friend advice from Dean Winchester - by impatient14 - Words:  114,837 - Summary: Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him.Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends.But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.Dean ignores his feelings.That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend.Just ignore the butterflies. (Dean is a heroic firefighter who ends up in stand-offish Castiel’s ER and flirts mercilessly with him, but to no avail. Cas is not made of stone, though, he’s just trying to protect his little heart ‘cause Dean does scary heroic things. It’s super emotional, go read it.)

Keeping you in sight - by gingerswag - Words:  136,374 - Summary: Castiel valued his solitude, and was happy to stay hidden away in the mountains for the rest of his life. But when his seeing eye dog dies, that solitude is suddenly broken when Gabriel shows up not with another dog but an actual human slave. Castiel doesn't believe in slavery, but he can't turn away the very hurt and broken man he's given. (This is a slavery fic, look up the tag warnings! It’s extremely angsty, it has a very human and rational ending which not might satisfy those looking for a conclusive, expressed fairytale ending for these two. It’s about Dean having gone through a lot of trauma and Cas being extremely lonely and two of them trying to mend each other while going through an excruciatingly painful healing process. I don’t think I can summarize it in a way that envelops everything that happens in this fic - it’s a tougher read but absolutely wonderfully written and very angsty)

Stay with me, sweetheart - by mandalarose - Words: 142,926 - Summary: A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV.When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship.Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there? (Dean is so whipped, so is Cas but he tries really hard not to get invested ‘cause everyone leaves and it’s not a commodity he can afford now that he’s got a baby. Thankfully for him, Dean is all-in kind of guy who’s gonna make all the right choices, one after another, fighting to show Cas that he can have what he desires and deserves, even after multiple attempts of Cas’s to push him away. Love conquers all!)

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - by bendingsignpost - Words:  194,739 - Summary: As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (I think I probably read this story a hundred times. Fantastically written fic where Dean is a student discovering his sexuality through a phone sex line, struggling with having to take over family business and Cas is a professor with a sidejob, with whom Dean interacts wordlessly at the library. It tackles on mental health, on wonderful sex dynamics, coming out and lots of other stuff. It’s one of the best writen fics out there, along with the other works in this series that I highly suggest to read: A Little Anal - Words: 18,805 and What makes a man kneel - Words: 9,920)

[zelgadis55]

Chapters: 23/? Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Michelangelo (TMNT), Mikey, Dogpound, Chris Bradford, Hamato Yoshi | Splinter, Leonardo (TMNT), Leo, Donatello (TMNT), Donnie, Raphael (TMNT), Raph, April O'Neil (TMNT) Additional Tags: Mikey is captured, Bradford wants revenge, and Shredder allows it, pet trope, Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, not graphic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Hurt Michelangelo (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT)-centric, Turtles, TMNT, Mind Manipulation, Cruelty Summary:

Bradford has always blamed Michelangelo for his misfortunes and especially for his mutation so when he manages to capture the young ninja, he's going to make sure he knows exactly what it's like. 2k12 AU.

Warning: Warnings for physical and mental torture in this story abound, as well as for implied and highly disturbing situations. Trigger warnings may apply for some chapters. There will not, however, be gruesome details. Some things are best left up to the imagination.

                 How Much is that Turtle in the Window                                                      ch 23

Mikey didn't sleep that day. Instead, he lay there listening to his brothers talk softly among themselves, curling in tighter on himself whenever their talk began to degenerate into another fight before they'd catch themselves and stop.

Finally, they quietened down as Leo and Raph went to bed, squeezing on the other side of the mattress and leaving Donnie to keep watch and work on his hacking project.

He clenched his fingers uncomfortably inside his paws and twisted to face the other way, opening his eyes to see Raph staring closely into his.

Raph gave a small apologetic smile. "Hey, bro, I'm sorry for upsetting you again," he breathed quietly. "I never meant to."

'No,' Mikey blinked. Raph never meant to but he always did anyway and that was the problem.

"I'll try harder to work on the Morse, okay?"

Mikey simply stared at him for several uncomfortable moments and then shrugged. It wasn't about that. He knew Raph was having a hard time. If their positions were reversed, he would have had a hard time understanding too and while Donnie would have been impatient with him, it wouldn't have been as bad as the fallout with Raph since everyone always had such low expectations of him in the first place, unlike with Raph.

No, it wasn't about that and yeah, it hurt that Raphael and to a lesser extent Leonardo, had so much trouble understanding him but he wasn't upset about that. After all, it wasn't like he'd been able to talk for a long time now and he was used to no one understanding what he wanted or needed to say anymore anyway.

What he couldn't handle was the fighting or rather, it was the raised voices and tempers which upset and freaked him out as it was always taken out on him after and it always had been. Whether or not they were even angry at him in the first place.

Raph frowned. "I can't tell if you're upset about me not understanding or something else."

{Else,} he tapped painfully slowly onto the mattress.

"Just the fighting or is there more to it than that?"

{Hai and mor...}

"Okay..." Raph muttered, still frowning as he concentrated intensely on trying to understand the quiet dull dits and dahs. "Want to explain? I'll do my best to listen."

'No,' he blinked. {To hard.} He bit his lip, angling his eyes away from Raphael's face so as to not see the disappointment or hurt.

"Too hard for me to understand or too hard for you to explain?" Raph asked curiously.

{Both,} Mikey answered simply. Besides the fact he wasn't sure how to broach the subject, he had no hope of trying to explain something so long and complicated at a slow enough pace for Raph to follow and even if he did try, both he and Raph would lose track of what he was saying too quickly so there really was no point. He wasn't even sure if he had the ability to explain to Donnie, even if Donnie asked the right questions to lead him on.

Raph reached out towards him, pain in his eyes and Mikey couldn't help but flinch back.

"Sorry, I won't touch you unless you're okay with it."

Right now he wasn't. Not with the residual adrenaline and paranoid fear still coursing through him even hours later and it was ridiculous! They were his brothers and he knew they'd never seriously hurt him! Yet he couldn't shake the feelings that had arisen with their fighting and scathing tones earlier. It wasn't fair to him or them that they had to constantly walk on eggshells around him but he didn't know what to do about it.

He was such a fucking mess now and he couldn't see a way out of it.

"Okay," Raph said sadly, thankfully understanding even if he didn't 'voice' it. "Well, I'm right beside you if you need me. If you need to, wake me up, okay?"

{'k,} Mikey replied, knowing there was no way he ever would. Raph was dangerous when woken unexpectedly. He opened his eyes again to watch as Raph reluctantly closed his to go to sleep.

Not long later, Donnie moved closer to the mattress, speaking softly, "If you want to talk about what's bothering you or even anything else, I'm always available, Mikey."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382507/chapters/75470588   or  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13593827/23/How-Much-is-that-Turtle-in-the-Window

[grimey--gal]

Ya’ll are dirty and you’re welcome 

He doesn’t dream much, but the few he has had of late have been disturbing. 

He blames it on the fact that he’s allowed Chucky to move into his home with him. Every day, he questions the sanity of his decision. He blames it on the alcohol and the weed and the accidental touching of hands or exchange of sexually charged quips. He blames it on the fact that he has not been touched in a long time, and has never really known the intimacy of sex. 

He blames it on everything, but it does not change the dreams. 

The first one is fairly simple, and fairly vivid. It is the same as it always is, except that for some reason, Chucky is wearing his shirt and the collar is slipping down his shoulder, exposing previously hidden scars and soft freckles. They’re on the couch, which is normal, but Chucky leans forward to get a smoke and then his now-long hair is slipping away from his neck. 

It is a dream, which is why he leans after Chucky and grabs his shoulders, gently, and begins to press soft, beckoning kisses along the nape of his neck and his shoulder blade. He wakes to Chucky’s pleased sighing, and is wet. Sticky. Mortified. 

He takes as shower and goes to work, but now that he has had this dream, the thoughts continue to haunt him. The idea of it does not disgust him as much as he feels it should, and this makes it all the more difficult. He is snapped at by several customers because he pays little to no attention to his work.  He can feel the phantom-warmness of Chucky’s skin from the dream, hear the exhale from his mouth, the underbreathed cursing. 

“Fuck, Andy,” Chucky says, when they’re mid argument, and Andy feels the blood rush south. But Chucky continues, and it is not his dream. “If you could hear half of the dumb shit that came out of your mouth! Now help me clean up - this blood won’t scrub itself off the floor.” 

Andy rolls his eyes, but when Chucky bends to peel off his clothes, his eyes linger a little too long. Something grows inside him. His heart beats fast in his throat. 

He writes about it, and then scraps it, burning the page with his lighter. He knows Chucky reads his writing. It keeps him on eggshells, paranoid of the fact that something in his writing might give away the befuddling emotions he finds himself constantly battling. He waits for the day Chucky decides to use this knowledge against him. 

The second dream comes anyways, and Chucky is drenched in blood, hair sticky and clothes ruined. “What’re you gonna do? Whip me?” Chucky taunts him. 

He picks him up and fucks him on the counter, beer bottles rolling off and crashing against the floor. His hands become stained with the blood, and he isn’t sure if it is symbolic or just a kink he hasn’t explored and isn’t sure he wants to. He fucks him hard, hand on his throat. Chucky pants and curses at him, begging. His eyes are rolling back.

You fucker, make me cum already. Fuck me harder, fuck…! 

He washes his sheets before Chucky stumbles into the kitchen, unaware. He shouts out something about making coffee, and that if he wants any sugar he’ll have to put it in himself.

Put it in, put it in already, he hears. He slams a fist against the top of the washer. 

“Andy what the fuck are you doing?” Chucky calls out. He doesn’t reply. He takes a shower instead and he stays until the water runs cold. It doesn’t make the dreams leave him alone. They follow him. 

He’s drinking with Kristen and Jeeves later that day when a fantasy takes over. Kristen is mid-conversation with Jeeves, and when they intertwine their fingers he sees his fingers pulling Chucky’s hair, pressing him against his cock. 

“Take it all now,” he’s growling, and Chucky is scowling up at him, muffled moaning around him. Chucky’s small hands are gripping his jeans while he gags, tears forming just in the corners of his eyes. “Give me teeth and I’ll leave bruises for weeks.”

Kristen says his name before he finds out if Chucky defied him. He’s sure he would. He thinks about this more than he’d like. He thinks he likes the idea of this a lot more than he should. 

He drinks more when he comes home, and he avoids Chucky, who stares after him in curiosity. “What? Did I say something that hurt your sweet little feelings, huh?” Chucky calls after him. He’s drunk, and uncouth, and Andy is already thinking of shameful ways to use his mouth. He goes to his room instead, closing the door, his cock already hardening. He feels electric.

“Aww - don’t be like that, baby,” Chucky is crowing. He locks his door, just in case Chucky plans on trying to come in. He doesn’t. 

“Oh, baby, baby!” Chucky calls in the fourth dream. They’re in Andy’s bed, Andy shoving his face into the mattress. Chucky is hogtied with red ropes, squirming relentlessly. It doesn’t stop him from pushing into him, penetrating him again and again and again, until Chucky is practically screaming, drooling into the pillowcase. 

“Squeal,  little piggie, squeal,” Andy taunts him, the way Chucky has always done to him. “Cry for more. Cry until your voice wears out.” 

He wakes up in a rush, panting. He can hear the echoes of dream Chucky sobbing in his ear, pleading for mercy, and it brings him to completion. He doesn’t sleep much after that. He is afraid of what he will dream about next. 

He finds himself unable to contain himself some days, with he and Chucky being so close. Chucky will smile wickedly at him with teeth, and he’ll  doze about those teeth in his neck, leaving bruises.

If I ever see anyone touch you kid, they’re dead. You’re mine, got that?

Most of the time, he dreams of himself bringing Chucky to ruin, bearing down on him, breaking him, pulling cry after cry from his mouth as he fucks him. Sometimes, he dreams about it being the other way around, and these scare him more than the rest. 

This is the fifth dream. Chucky has him shackled to his bed post on the floor, standing above him, grinning. He’s gagged, and Chucky slides the tip of a knife up the flesh of his leg, tapping his ass. 

“You’re shaking,” Chucky snickers, and Andy feels heat growing in his belly. “Tell me, is it because you’re scared, or because you want this so badly?” 

Everytime Chucky talks to him, it makes his skin tingle. Every time they accidentally brush arms or share too close of a personal space, he burns. He hopes that Chucky does not notice, but a part of him hopes he does, and this makes him feel disgusted about himself. He drinks this away, and he falls into a greater depression than normal, which his friends notice, but get no answers when they ask him about it. 

There are times when he thinks that it will happen in reality. Usually when they are drunk and high and closer than normal. Chucky’s voice will change pitch; higher, sweeter, subservient. He will still say the same things he would say when drunk, and is just as foul-mouthed and reckless, but they will lean too close and Andy will think this is it. 

But then the moment will pass, and he will go to bed, frustrated and confused and afraid. Afraid he exposed himself too much and will have himself found out. 

He is at work and the daydreams plague him. They never leave him alone. He envisions Chucky on top of him, rubbing their cocks together, hair over his blue eyes. 

“Scared, Barclay?” he asks, his mouth a crooked smile. It is a challenge. A challenge he wants to win. He sees himself flip Chucky over underneath him, slapping his ass, biting down his backbone. Making him whimper. 

“Kind of bold for someone who knows who their owner is, don’t you think, button?” he asks, biting Chucky’s earlobe, rewarded by a low moan of surprise and arousal. Chucky grinds up against him, whining for attention. 

“If I belong to you, come on and  fuckin’ play with me then,” Chucky murmurs. The bell rings, and Andy is shaken from his reverie to a customer walking in. But his thoughts stay nonetheless. Don’t you want to play with your doll, Andy? I’ve been waiting for you. Please. Don’t ignore me, Andy. I need you. I need you. 

When he comes home, Chucky is not there, and he is ashamed to admit he is more disappointed than relieved. Hunger growls in his gut. There is nothing to truly satisfy his need. And even if it was right in front of him, he is not sure he would take it. He goes to his room again, writing and burning his feelings away, bottle in hand. If Chucky comes home, he does not hear it, lost in thought and conflicted. 

He touches himself before he sleeps, coming to the conclusion that he will keep it in his dreams, a secret of his own. And when he comes, no one will know why save for himself. The knowledge he will take to his grave.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 6

Good Omens

A/n: smut warning 

Link to Chapter 5 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader and Crowley x Aziraphale 

_________

“So are you going to tell us what’s wrong or should we start guessing?”

Crowley asked. It was astounding to you that he hadn’t put two and two together. Both Gabriel and Aziraphale were watching you closely.  Aziraphale’s eyes widened. 

“Y/n…”

You  took a breath. This was getting to be ridiculous! All three of these celestial beings would soon put together what was going on! It wasn’t like you would be able to hide THIS before long! 

“Fine. Before someone suggests doing charades because that would be disturbing….IMHAVINGABABY.”

You said it so fast that Gabriel, Aziraphale, and Crowley all looked at each other.

“Sorry?”

Aziraphale replied.  You sighed.

“Fine! I’m pregnant.” 

You stood in awkward silence as Gabriel, Crowley, and Aziraphale blinked. Crowley was the first to react. He literally jumped on the couch and was pointing between Gabriel and yourself.

“You told me that he was stopping that! YOU! You big stupid archangel…”

“Watch it.”

Gabriel snapped. Crowley didn’t care what Gabriel had to say. At the moment, the archangel was lucky that Aziraphale was sitting between them! 

“Y/n, you said that you had the sex talk!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I did have the sex talk! Can we stop worrying about the sex talk? We have bigger problems.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Gabriel said coldly and stood up. 

“Y/n, we need to talk. Privately.” 

You didn’t want to be in a room alone with Gabriel but he was probably right. The two of you did need to talk alone. You would have to deal with Crowly and Aziraphale later. Maybe it was best for Aziraphale to calm Crowley down. 

“Fine, let’s go upstairs.”

Crowley glared up. 

“Don’t get her more pregnant.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with an open mouth.

“I don’t think that is possible. Once that the egg has been…”

Crowley slammed his hands over his ears. 

“Don’t wanna hear it!”

You turned and walked out of the room with Gabriel on your heels like a giant puppy.

Gabriel closed the bedroom door behind you. The last time that he had been in this room, he had been between your legs. Now he was finding out that he was going to be a father. 

“Y/n, we really need to talk. Are you sure that you are pregnant?”

You looked at Gabriel trying to determine if he was being serious or if he was trying to be a smart elect. 

“You tell me.” 

Gabriel reached out, his eyes not moving from yours, as he put a hand on your stomach. If possible his face seemed to go pale. 

“I don’t understand this is possible.” 

You put a hand over your face.

“Gabriel it all started when you put your cock inside of me…”

The expression on Gabriel’s face made you want to laugh. 

“Stop being a spoiled little brat! You don’t realize how serious any of this is, do you?”

 You nodded.

“Of course, I realize! We are creating some new creature! I wonder if we get to name it?”

Gabriel walked to your bed and sat down. With all of the shit that was going on you were worried about naming the creature. 

“Maybe you should worry about other things?”  

All of the feelings that you had felt over the past few weeks hit you like a Mack truck! The feelings of loss, abandonment, and betrayal came back hard! You wrapped the oversized cardigan sweater that you were wearing around you again. 

“None of this will matter to you in a few hours anyway.” 

Gabriel looked up. 

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

You nodded.

“I know that I never should have trusted you.” 

Gabriel was up and towering over you. 

“Everything you heard that night was a lie.” 

You backed against the wall. 

“What?”

Gabriel ran a hand through his normally neat hair.  

“At first, I was with you to figure you out. That as before I fell in love with you.” 

You pressed your lips together. If this was some messed up game, you would throw the archangel out the window!

“If you are messing with me, I swear to god…you are probably just saying this shit to go back to heaven and…”

“I can’t go back.”

Gabriel interrupted you. The expression on his face went from his normal arrogant self assured to a lost lonely expression that you had never seen before. 

“What do you mean that you can’t go back.”

You questioned. Gabriel held a hand up. 

“Exactly what I said. I can’t go back.”

“Do you mean that you were kicked out?” 

Gabriel put his hands over his face.

“That is exactly what I mean. Michael found out that I was actually in love with you. That is what makes all of this worse. We, you and I both sweetheart, are number one on their list.”

“And I’m pregnant…”

You managed to squeak out. Gabriel nodded. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Gabriel had you in his arms before you were able to fight back. You pressed your face into his chest as he put his chin on your forehead. The demon in you wanted to fight back but at the same time, the other part of you didn’t. It was nice being back in his arms! 

“Gabriel, what the hell are we going to do?”

He was silent for a moment. Gabriel wasn’t for sure what to say. This was the last thing that he expected to ever happen to him. He was an archangel. Archangel’s don’t have children! 

Hell, Gabriel didn’t even like humans!  You were the only human that he found remotely tolerable (and you weren’t even fully human). The only thing that he ever expected the two of you to “raise” together was maybe a houseplant. Gabriel didn’t even see the houseplant making it long. One of you would forget to take care of it and it would die. 

What was Gabriel going to do with a pregnant half-demon/half-human girlfriend? He was going to be working on fucking eggshells until the brat was born and probably for some time after. The last thing that he wanted to think about was changing the kid. That was just gross! Maybe Aziraphale could come into handy there. He would be a good nanny! 

“I’ll figure something out. Just stay in the house. If you go out, I’m going with you.”

You winced. Oh, this was going to be exciting! You were going from being alone to having your archangel boyfriend (if he was even that) shoved up your ass 24/7. 

“Great, so I am going to have you following me around like some kind of moving prison bracelet?” 

“Do you want to die?”

You mumbled a few curse words under your breath. Gabriel raised an eyebrow. 

“You are going to have to clean up your language before the baby is born.” 

Gabriel smiled at the scowl on your face. That was pure demon. Something about it though was beyond adorable. Gabriel wanted to smack himself at the overly corny crap going through his mind. You would probably tell him to fuck off with his corny shit….or would you? You seemed to be enjoying every caress that he seemed to be giving you. There was also the fact that you hadn’t moved to be away from his body. 

“You are a fine one to talk Mr. I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel. By the way that sounds a bit wrong. Maybe I should teach you how to use the word fuck properly.” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. 

“I could fuck you against that wall.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

You said with a sly grin as Gabriel sat down on the little sofa. He reached up quickly and pulled you onto his lap. His mouth was on yours in an instant. The kiss seemed almost desperate. Under all of the sarcasm and negativity that the two of you possessed there was the desperation to not lose the other again. If you needed a sign that Gabriel was in love with you this was a good one. You didn’t need him to say those three words (or did you). 

“So did you have fun at that wedding with those annoying humans? Especially that Jamie human?” 

Gabriel finally asked when he was able to pry himself away from you. Ah, it came out! He was jealous! It took all that you had to not call him out on it! You never expected to see Gabriel of all people jealous! 

“You don’t have anything to worry about with Jamie. He’s a pussy. No need to be jealous.” 

Gabriel smirked. 

“See this is what I mean by you cleaning up your language. I am not jealous. I don’t know the meaning of that anyway.”

“You’re so arrogant.” 

You muttered.  It was going to be interesting as hell having a baby with this mother fucker. 

“I’m going to go ahead and warn you, if having his kid hurts as bad as the bitches on TV lets on...I’m cursing you.” 

Gabriel chuckled. 

“Women have been doing this for thousands of years. Your body will know what to do. You aren’t that special.” 

Well, that was a nice thing to say, you thought before remembering who you were talking too. 

“Well, congratulations, daddy, because you will be the first man in the history of the world to feel every labor pain that the mother of your child will feel.” 

Gabriel was clearly startled by your comment. 

“I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded! You’re half-demon, your body is strong enough to endure this.” 

“That still sounded no better.” 

You snapped before gasping as his index finger stroked down your clit. When exactly did he miracle away your clothing. 

“Hey you just got me naked. Who said we were going to have sex?”

Gabriel looked like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. 

“I thought that we were good!”

You undid each button of his dress shirt in a slow agonizing manner. 

“I was only joking. Lighten up. I want you too.” 

Looking a little more relieved, Gabriel snapped away the remainder of his clothing. He turned you so that your legs were on both sides of his body. 

“I think we are going to have to learn how to talk to each other without getting too…”

“Asshole like?”

You suggested. Gabriel nodded. That was good enough for him. The two of you had no bedside manner at points. Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t seen the worst of your “demonic” personality. Something told him that as the pregnancy progressed, your sweet side may totally vanish. 

“Works for me. Now, where were we?” 

Meanwhile, downstairs….

Crowley sat with his face in his hands. He didn’t know what to say! There was not one sarcastic, meaningful, or decent thing that he could say. He couldn’t look up at Aziraphale. The look in his lover’s eyes was too much at the moment. Crowley knew that Aziraphale was worried but at the moment he couldn’t handle it! 

Crowley was in too much devastation and confusion. You promised him that you were being careful with Gabriel. Obviously, you were just saying shit to keep Crowley quiet or you really had no idea about protection! 

Now you were screwed. Crowley muttered a bunch of swear words under his breath! His daughter was in a whole heap of trouble and he didn’t know what to do! 

“Some dad I am.”

Crowley muttered before getting up to find some booze. Aziraphale pressed his lips together.

“Crowley, you are blaming yourself for something that you can’t control! We can keep Y/n safe! I mean, we did stop the apocalypse after all.”

Crowley ran a hand through his hair. 

“It's different this time.”

Crowley turned and walked out of the house without another word. He needed some air and time alone. 

You lay underneath Gabriel as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He held himself up on one arm to keep as much weight off of you as possible.  

“I’ve missed you.” 

Gabriel groaned before pushing himself further inside you. You moaned against his mouth. 

“Going sappy on me?”

You said, smugly. Gabriel held himself up on his arms and looked down at you. Going sappy wasn’t something that he ever planned. Gazing down at your nude body, he couldn’t help that Michael was right. Gabriel had fallen in love with you! You were a crafty vixen of a woman and totally had the archangel exactly where you wanted him. 

“I have missed you even though you  are the most stubborn brattiest woman that I have ever laid eyes on.”

Ah, there it was! That exchange of power that the two of you shared so well! You smiled before pushing the archangel off of you. Gabriel didn’t object when you quickly took your place over him. You took his cock from tip to base causing Gabriel’s body to shiver. 

“And you are the most arrogant bossiest asshole that I have ever met.” 

Gabriel snapping his hips made your eyes roll back into your head. He smiled, pleased that he still obviously had power over you. 

You sat motionless on top of the archangel as he rocked his hips into you. Gabriel knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your snarky sarcastic side was on autopilot. For the moment, you were putty in his hands. 

“I don’t want you sneaking off.” 

Your body clenched around his cock. Gabriel winced and rolled you to your side before pulling your body back against his. He lifted your leg over his hip and resumed the painfully slow pace. 

“I need to keep you safe...I need to keep our child safe.” 

It seemed so out of character to hear Gabriel be actually caring. Hearing him say those words alone made your heart swoon. You mentally laughed at yourself. Had this been three weeks ago, you probably would have told Gabriel to go fuck himself. Now here he was being so uncharacteristically caring that you craved more! 

“Stay with me, Y/n.” 

Gabriel’s hand tightened around your throat. 

“Say that you are mine.”

He said in a mocking tone. Your eyes snapped open. Here Gabriel was playing his old games. Maybe it was time to indulge him?

“I’m yours, Gabriel.” 

You felt the archangel smile against your shoulder.

“Good girl.”

He said before gently biting down on your neck to suck a deep bruise into your skin. You knew that there was no need to worry about hiding Gabriel’s “love bites” from Crowley any longer. Soon enough the proof of your lovemaking with Gabriel wouldn’t be able to be hidden any longer. 

You didn’t want to let your mind begin to worry about the baby on the way but you couldn’t help it. What were the two of you going to do? Neither of you knew what to do with a baby? Gabriel certainly had no idea how to be a father. If he had any idea how to handle a baby; you would be surprised! You, yourself, had no idea how to be a mother! Your own mother was no pristine example of what a mother should be. 

Sure, Gabriel had a point. Your body would know what to do when it came to giving birth. What about after that though? What would happen when the kid was screaming at three am and neither Gabriel nor yourself knew what to do? Would the two of you just stand there awkwardly looking at each other? Would the two of you draw straws on who would attempt to comfort the kid? 

The better question was what was going to happen when heaven started? You didn’t doubt your abilities or Gabriel’s ability to keep you safe. The negative thoughts in your mind said, “how can one archangel and one half breed demon keep the forces of heaven and hell back?” 

Gabriel’s finger pressing down on your clit tore you from your thoughts. 

“Focus, darling.” 

Gabriel said before biting down on your shoulder again. He didn’t feel like stopping in the middle of sex to try to comfort your worries. Everything would be fine! Gabriel knew it!  

The next few days were tense. Crowley still wasn’t talking to anyone. You assumed that the news of your pregnancy was world-shattering to him. The two of you would have to talk at some point. 

Aziraphale was as kind as always. He was asking you at least 50 times a day if there was anything that you needed. Gabriel was just as bad. The archangel was hovering over your shoulder.   

If he wasn’t watching every single thing that you were doing then he was dragging you back to bed. Whether it was the knowledge that you were having his baby or the fact that you were doing everything that you wanted; Gabriel was all over you. Gabriel was back to that large awkward puppy that was eager to show his love no matter how annoying that he could be.

You stood at the sink one morning trying to think of ways to get through to Crowley. Earlier that day you tried to win him over with a new house plant. Crowley sat staring right ahead. After you lost your temper and shattered the thing at his feet, Crowley finally looked up.

“Better be getting back to your boyfriend.” 

Gabriel’s arms wrapping around you instantly pulled you from your thoughts. His lips were on your bare shoulder as he gently bit down. 

“Gabriel.”

His hand had slid up your thigh. 

“I would hope that it was me. If some other man was touching you like this then we would have a problem.” 

Gabriel quickly turned you in his arms and lifted you onto the counter. At the moment, all he wanted was to bury himself as deep inside of you as possible. Gabriel had been keeping secrets of his own. From the time that he was kicked out of heaven, his grace seemed to be totally out of whack! Gabriel had yet to admit this to you or anyone else for that matter. 

The last thing that he wanted was for you to think that he was weak. What kind of sick cosmic joke could that be? Whatever the hell it was needed to be fixed! 

You, meanwhile, were busy trying to get his dress shirt unbuttoned as quickly as possible. I am as bad as he is, you thought. Call it pregnancy hormones or whatever it was, you were as eager to have Gabriel inside of you. It was surprising to the two of you that the arguing seemed to be not happening as often!  

“And this is how you will typically find them.” 

The sound of Crowley’s voice made the two of you freeze. You turned your attention to the doorway where Crowley stood with Beelzebub. Gabriel lifted you off of the counter but kept your body against his. 

Beelzebub looked less than thrilled as well. 

“Y/n. Gabriel. How surprising.”

You slowly stepped away from Gabriel but knew not to go too far.

“Beelzebub. Long time no see.” 

The prince of hell’s dark eyes rolled from your face down to you still flat stomach. Their eyes widened immediately. 

“You weren’t kidding.” 

Crowley frowned. 

“Why would I joke about something like that!” 

Your attention immediately went to your father. 

“You called them?”

Crowley sighed. 

“Yes. I think we need to build some kind of team-up here. Especially with that….child on the way.” 

Beelzebub’s attention had not diverted from your face. 

“Y/n, you and I need to talk...alone.”

“I don’t think so.”

Gabriel said coldly. Beelzebub’s attention turned back to Gabriel. 

“I am not going to harm her. She is a very special girl. Y/n, if you please…”

You turned your attention back to Gabriel. 

“It will be fine. I’ll be in the next room.” 

______

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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@annetheman

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@summer-novak

________

[girlmeetsliv3]

Purgatorio II

Warning: The following story contains mentions of suicide, depression, anxiety, manipulation, abuse, and vivid descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this series will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

A psychologist had come to visit him approximately an hour after Dr.Kim had left, an hour after the conversation had died down and the two individuals in the room were embraced by silence. There had been nothing to really speak once their thoughts on the situation had been expressed and Yoongi was never a fan of small talk. Neither were you it seemed, for that he was thankful. When the older man with round glasses and too many wrinkles in his forehead entered, Yoongi had to mentally prepare himself for the questions he was about to endure. He quite honestly feared the man because of the power he wielded. If he deemed Yoongi a danger to society he would ensure he never left the plain white walls that surrounded him, incarcerating in a literal prison and not just the metaphorical one he was used to. He was on the brink of a full-on panic attack the closer the man got to the bed and it made him upset of how weak he truly was. Anxiety manifested into a rage, all he wanted to do was pound the man’s head into the wall and inform him that he was perfectly sane. All the racing thoughts and emotions were halted the moment he felt the warmth of your hands enveloping him.

           He had failed to notice you standing up and was curious as to what exactly you were doing. He barely paid attention to the conversation occurring between the psychologist and you, solely focusing on your face and all the expressions you were able to exhibit in a manner of seconds. How he envied you. He failed to notice a question that had been directed at him until he felt a slight squeeze coming from you. “Mr.Min? Is this true?” The psychologist looked at him with intrigue and he recognized that tone of voice, it was one used often by his teachers when they wanted to catch him in a lie. Whatever you had said, he trusted you a lot more than he should truthfully. “Of course.” Yoongi had learned at a quite young age the shorter and less detailed a lie, the sweeter it was. The doctor simply nodded as his eyes focused on Yoongi’s and yours interlocked hands before stating he would sign the discharge papers and bring along documentation for you to sign. It wasn’t until the door closed behind the man that you let go of Yoongi’s hand a breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason he found himself missing the warmth.

           “What did you tell him?” He asked you with curiosity. You turned to look at him with confusion evident on your face, “Weren’t you paying attention?” Yoongi simply shook his head which only served to leave you reeling for answers. You had assumed that since he had cooperated in your lie to the psychologist he must have been paying attention. [y/n] felt her ears begin to heat up with embarrassment. You hadn’t minded improvising and doing whatever it took to help the miserable man in front you, but his desire to know your reasons put you in a tight spot. Min Yoongi was an individual that seemed to hate pity and believed the worst of the world around him, you had once met someone of a similar mindset. If you were open and honest about your intentions would you help him or just provide more of a reason for him to wallow in his own self-pity. Honesty is the best policy…just not right now.

           “I told him that we had a fight whilst you were drunk, and you probably tried to light your cigarette and ended up causing the fire.”

           “So, you made me sound like an alcoholic… Wait, a fight?” His eyebrow quirked.

           “You’re more likely to get discharged if they think what occurred was out of a rash decision, instead of a premeditated one.”

           “You still haven’t answered my question. We had a fight?”

           “I told him I was your girlfriend. They couldn’t get a hold of your parents while you were here and if you have no one to account for you, they won’t discharge you.”

           “My parents are dead, at least to me…”

           “Sorry.”

           “You seem to know a lot about hospitals.” It was the question you expected, but you still couldn’t help the words dying on your tongue. In fear of what would come out if you opened your mouth, you merely nodded and hummed in agreeance. Your evasiveness to all his questions wasn’t helping diminish his growing interest in you – which if he was honest with himself wasn’t all that healthy. Yoongi desired to personally know all of you. Whatever that entailed. You were an enigma and, in a world, so black and white, he desired to know and understand why you were grey. A thought popped into his head – a game of sorts. How would you react? What would you say?

           Another nurse had come inside the room with stacks of paperwork. Bringing along a pen and informing Yoongi of his medication, treatment, and where to sign in order to be allowed to once again enter hell. His signature was thick, and the pen felt heavy in his hand, it was almost as if he was signing a deal with the devil; promising to endure a life of pure and utter agony until the end. Yoongi may have been desperate, but one failed attempt was enough for him. He didn’t desire to build a reputation for himself or never be allowed to leave the ugly eggshell colored walls which surrounded him. Returning to his everyday life was something he anticipated but hoped to delay. Imagine his utter surprise when the nurse turned to you and asked you to sign the document as well, handing you a copy to keep and repeating all the instructions once again.

           “What’s going on?” Yoongi asked his eyes darting between [y/n] and the nurse. “Mrs.[y/l/n] has agreed to be your guardian until you’re deemed stable enough to care for yourself Mr.Min.” He was usually better at controlling his emotions, but the nurse must have seen the quick flash of uncertainty in his eyes as she suddenly turned to you and asked poignantly. “You are his girlfriend, are you not?” As you opened your mouth to respond, attempting to come up with something quick before this whole thing fell apart, you were interrupted by the Yoongi himself. “Oh right, that’s what the doctor said. Sorry baby I forgot.” He was just going along with the plan, that’s what you told yourself as you felt your cheeks heat up. All part of the plan. “Will, that be all?” You asked the nurse, desperate for her to leave. She asked if the two of you had a way of getting home that was wheelchair friendly and when you replied you didn’t she promised to order a cab.

           After she left, the room was once again silent. Here we go. You prepped yourself for more questions, waiting for the next attack. It never came. Yoongi merely sat in silence and stared off into space, all you could do was stare at him. You had time to memorize every one of his features the entire month you had been by his side, but now they looked different. Truthfully he was an entirely different person to what you imagined he’d be like: he had looked so calm and peaceful in his sleep. Now there was a roughness present in everything he did. Someone who had been damaged far too many times and no longer trusted anyone – not even himself. It saddened you and caused another face to flash before you. Bright eyes, light hair, a peaceful face roughened by the world as well. Tears welled in your eyes and you forced the image to the very back of your mind. I won’t allow that to happen, not again.

           “I have to get dressed.” It lacked any sort of enthusiasm or emotion. His voice and expression were robotic as he spoke, it wasn’t until your eyes met that a hint of something appeared in his cold eyes. [y/n] looked around trying to come up with anything that would serve as an article of clothing. Honestly, you had given some thought to getting him something to wear when he woke up but knew that was overstepping the boundaries just a little too much. “I think there is a gift shop downstairs. I can see if they have clothes.” Yoongi winced at the thought of having to wear an overly cringey shirt and ill-fitting slacks, but he relented. [Y/n] reached into her purse to grab her wallet, “What size are you?

           “Extra-large.”

           “What?!” You sputtered.

           “The bandages need to breathe right? Get me an extra-large.”

           “Oh.”

           You could not have possibly dashed out of the room faster. Yoongi couldn’t help but burst into laughter at your reaction. Cute. There wasn’t much to do after you left, so he found himself counting the seconds until you returned. Once he reached twelve hundred, he became irritated. Why had you taken so long? How hard was it to find a stupid shirt and pants? Had you forgotten about him? Had you grown tired of him already? Did you decide he was useless and pathetic and abandon him? Twelve hundred and one. Twelve hundred and two. Where the fuck are you?! His question was answered when you burst through the door, arms filled with two sets of plastic bags with the sign thank you printed on them repeatedly. “What took you so long?!” He tried to hide the animosity in his voice, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard it.

           “It took a while to find pants and I had to pick up your prescriptions.” [Y/n] walked towards the hospital bed and gently placed the bags beside Yoongi being careful not to disturb him. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a long-sleeved black shirt, as well as some black slacks. It was as if you knew him. Something inside of him swelled at that. He patiently watched as you stared at the clothes neatly folded next to him and pressed your lips together as if in deep thought. Your head tilted to the side and you lightly nodded to yourself, almost as if agreeing with whatever decision you had made. The fact that you were oblivious to all these mannerisms is what made it that much more interesting to him. “I’ll go get a nurse to help you get dressed.” You pointed behind you.

No. “No. I can get dressed by myself.” He didn’t want you to go away again, even if just for a second. He began to pull at the strings at the side of his hospital gown, but [y/n] placed a hand on his to stop him. “Maybe we should get your pants on first?” The tone did not go unnoticed and Yoongi was once again reminded that under the gown he was stark naked. Without waiting for a response, you began to pull off the bed sheets and placed the pants near his feet opening them wide enough to get them through. It was like a mother dressing her sleepy child in the morning, you even asked him to lift his hips slightly so as to drag the pants up. Of course, you did this as your eyes stared at the ceiling and your lips were pressed tightly together in embarrassment.  Had his mother ever done this for him? Did she exhibit the care you did? Is this how you would dress your children in the future? All thoughts were interrupted when you cleared your throat. The pants were now at his thighs and [y/n] had decided that was enough.

Yoongi struggled a bit, but he managed to pull the pants all the way up as [y/n] faced the wall trying not to see anything. Once they were properly on, he undid the laces of the gown and slipped on the shirt with ease. “Oh um, the hospital in providing us with a wheelchair until we get to your place, but then they have to take it back. So, they said it’s probably best to buy one.” The little bit of joy he felt faded again, “Alright. I’ll have one delivered to my place once I get home.” [Y/n] nodded and went to pack up her belongings, tying her hair into a loose ponytail to get it out of her face. Placing the bag on your shoulder you turned around and smiled meekly, “Ready to go home?”

Home. Home was where his demons waited anxiously for his returns. Home is where his passion and failure both lived. Home is where he spent all of his time wallowing in misery. Home is where he hoped to fall asleep and never wake up. Home was where you lived, right next to him. Home was where you were forced to interact since you promised to care for him. Home was where you couldn’t ignore him or abandon him like everyone else had or you’d be held accountable for his actions. Home was you. You were home.

“I can’t wait.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

🏰⚔️🐲🐲👑 DMODT- 50 start

Curled up with Luca, Eren was in a state of shock. His hand hadn't left his stomach since the healer had left them. He wasn't supposed to be pregnant. No. He couldn't be pregnant. It was impossible. He'd given up that part of his soul, and lost Levi's clutch because of it. This was wrong. All of this was wrong. This was the wrong bed, in the wrong manor, in the wrong country, and to the wrong alpha... He wanted to run, to scream, to claw the life inside of him out, but none of that happened because he just felt so numb to the whole concept of being pregnant... again. Hearing a soft knock on the door, the omega knew it was Armin. Not just because of the lightness of the steps, or the honey smelling soap he used, but because Mikasa refused to let anyone else near his room "Come in!" Luca chirped as he stretched before walking across the blankets of the bed and jumping down with a light thud. He knew when it was breakfast time, and he knew Armin usually brought breakfast up. Given he wasn't allowed to take any herbs that weren't approved by the royal healers, his friend stopped by to collect the herbal powders prescribed for morning sickness, before visiting him. Opening the door, Armin smiled down at Luca "Hello. Are you hungry? I've got some mince for you, as well as your milk" "You're spoiling him" "He's a growing boy. Speaking of growing, how are you feeling today?" "I haven't thrown up yet" "That's progress" There was that, and the smallest of bumps his belly had become in the past few weeks since being told of his pregnancy. He couldn't escape the truth, so why couldn't his mind just accept it? Closing the door, Armin went about fussing over breakfast for Luca. So far no one had tried to get rid of the child, and he didn't know if he was disappointed or not by that "I was thinking we could take Luca for a walk today? It's warm outside, so your lungs should be alright" With no fireplace in his own room quarters, cold nights now meant spending most of his time in shower for the steam. The constant flow of hot water could only come from magic sources "That'd be nice" For Luca. Eren just wanted to stay laying in bed. If he left the window open, the eagle carrying his updates from Eldia would fly right to his bed "Awesome. I did suggest we ride down to the port and take a look around, but Mikasa said it was too dangerous" "For who?" "You. She knows you don't love riding, and that you're not that great at it" "Actually... I can ride quite well now. I wouldn't mind going down to the port" "Really?! You want to go riding? I thought you didn't like horses" "They're not all that bad. I prefer them to ships" "Did you and... never mind..." God. He really should be over it all. It'd been 3 months since Levi left, and everyone was still on eggshells about the topic "We rode for about three weeks. Down from what they call Europe. Though, for about two of those weeks we crossed the desert on camels..." Levi had laid claim to his body, flooded him with his seed over and over. The baby inside of him was supposed to be Levi's. The alpha was everything he wanted in the father of his child. He knew how wrapt he would have been, and how attending and kind... He would have taught their child to ride a horse and wield a sword... The hand against his swell rubbed at it slowly "It's ok" "It's not ok. We wanted children, Armin. We wanted that dream and future. Now I'm pregnant to the wrong alpha, who I haven't seen since he found he was to be a father" "Isn't that a good thing?" "It is. I just... I know it's foolish, but he was... soft? at the party. When I got sick, he actually growled at the people trying to help, then carried me to the carriage" He didn't have feelings for Zeke. But not knowing why he helped... left him wondering if the was ok. Or if he'd seen something like that before with a pervious lover. The man was a sleaze, yet had limited his man-whore ways since they'd wed "Eren, you do know who he is and what he's done?" "I hold no illusions over Zeke's character, and I'm quite sure he'd erase Eldia if he could. But that won't change this... inside of me" "I still can't believe you're actually pregnant" "I can't either. I don't know if it's a clutch or a human child, so I can't say how long the pregnancy will last" "You're around 12 weeks, aren't you?" "Yeah. I've only had sex with Zeke those two nights. When he first told me we'd be wed, I was scared he would force himself upon me each night. It's nice to know all these black scales of mine repulse him enough to keep him away" "I was scared too... I thought you wouldn't be able to come back from what he'd done to you" "Armin, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much... but we all had a dream for Eldia. If it's for the sake of peace, I'll find a way to be ok" The handle of the cup in Armin's hold snapped. Armin letting out a long breath as he placed it down "Armin?" "You shouldn't have to just be ok! I might be a stupid kid, but I don't get it. I don't get how you can sit there, clearly not over your alpha, and still hurt from his leaving you. And you sit there, and... you weren't supposed to fall pregnant to him. When do you get your happy ever after? It's not fair Eren. I don't... you shouldn't have to have to this baby if you don't want it. You shouldn't have to sleep with someone like him, just to keep Eldia safe. You're not even a real prince. If I was prince, I would have married you and kept you in Eldia, where no one could touch you. I hate this place, and I hate what it's doing to you!" "Armin..." "No! You keep talking about peace, but this all too much! I hate it! He broke you and left you! And you still love him! I can't even be mad at him, because he wasn't mentally stable! I want to punch him in the face for leaving, and I want him to come save us from all of this!" Climbing out his bed, Eren walked over to Armin. Gathering his friend into his hold, he nodded "I hate him for leaving me. For leaving Luca. But I'm still in love with him.... I still love and want to be with him... I tried to hide how bad things were, but even that didn't keep him beside me... some nights I can't sleep because I'm so worried that he's hurt somewhere out there. That he's lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out, and I'll never see him again... we wanted... we wanted a baby so badly, Armin... it's supposed to be his..." Vomit filled his mouth, Eren half shoving Armin away as ran to the bathroom. In his mind, his omega was one great big mess. It hated him for thinking of aborting the child, while Eren hated himself for not being able to. Armin was right. He needed to get out of the manor. Having choked down breakfast, and kept it down for longer than half an hour, the four of them headed out to back lawns of the manor house, as Mikasa wouldn't let him on a horse in his "condition". This was least faking feeling part of whole castle grounds. Long ago another building had stood on the site of the manor, its thick foundations were blackened and broken yet left standing as show of strength. Marley's soldiers had swept in and raised it to the ground, though no one knew just when that was exactly. Eren hated that Marley had destroyed something that would have taken decades to build, but the fact they were still there was proof of something outside of polite fakeness. Enjoying the feeling of the sun, Eren was sitting on the grass beside Armin, while Luca chased Mikasa around as Mikasa tried to work out. Even if the female alpha was annoyed at her having her workout disturbed, she'd become much more adept at hiding it from Luca, calling it stamina training instead of playing chasey. Luca might not have got the concept completely, but he was happy to chance Mikasa around. Sighing to himself, Eren accidentally interrupted the game in front of him, Luca abandoning Mikasa as he came bounding over to Eren "It's ok, Lu. You can keep playing" Chirping, his son swiped at his hand "You want me to play?" "Lu! Luuuuuuu!" "Luca, Eren is..." "Armin, it's ok. Luca hasn't had the attention he deserves since I first found out I was pregnant. I don't want this to impact on my time with him. Luca, you've got to give mummy a chance" Cocking his head sideways, his son smacked his hand again "Ok. Ok. I'm coming" Chasing around after Luca, it turned into a proper game when Armin joined in. His stomach didn't feel great, if anything it felt worse by the second, but Luca was so damn happy as they played. Caught up in their own world, Mikasa was the first to stop playing. Her hand going to her sword. This simple action was enough for Eren to gather Luca up, as he looked for the threat designated by his sister "It's Queen Dina" Queen Dina. He'd been going out of his way to avoid her "We should return to our quarters. She doesn't like me being outside of my room" Mikasa nodded "I know. I've caught Yelena following us more than once. She likes to try and blend in with the rest of the guards here" "Zeke saved her life. She sees him as god, and he didn't help matters" Huffing, Armin wiped his face on his shirt "If she's that great, why didn't he marry her?" "Because she doesn't come with a country that's filled with resources" "She's also not part dragon" Eren nodded quickly "There's that. When Zeke mounted me the first time, he only took scales from my back. If it'd been her, she would probably have realised that there's magic in the scales on my face, rather than the ones on my back. She's stupid for following Zeke, but, still, I get the feeling her mind is always racing and thinking of what comes next. I'm sure Queen Dina would have preferred her as daughter than me"

[turtle-steverogers]

Fugitives- Chap 8

its 1:30 am and this is trash, so forgive me, but its worth reading to the end because PLOT POINTS!!

also idk why but this chap was really hard to yeet out.  i have like the whole fic planned, but i needa get there first if that makes sense so writing the shit leading up to the REAL SHIT is hard but stay tuned cuz it gets really fucking saucy in the future oooooo

warnings: non graphic gunshots and kinda death shit but its really nothing compared to previous chaps so its fine

ship: eventual ralbert

editing: no and its obvious.  sorry

Although Albert’s mental state was far from okay, it was in his nature to be optimistic.  As much as everything had gone to shit in the past week, he forced himself to get up every day and assimilate as best as possible into gang life.  The nightmares hadn’t stopped yet, though.  Every night, he was plagued with clear images of Elmer, dead against the wall of Sarah’s apartment, brain matter splattered aimlessly on the eggshell white walls behind his lifeless form.  But he learned quickly that a hot shower almost always brought him down, and since the night that Race had confessed his experience with Rockefeller to him, he had learned to keep quiet during a breakdown.

Ever since the night of Albert and Race’s talk, the dynamic between them changed significantly.  Albert found himself relaxing around him, and would often join him for breakfast, which for Race never seemed to deviate from a singular banana.  They got into the habit of playing various card or board games in the rec room after trades and Albert learned very quickly that Race had a talent for strategy.  He rarely won against him, but his competitive disposition forced him to continue game after game.

“Check,” Race exclaimed, eyes glinting triumphantly as he moved his bishop in line with Albert’s king.  It was Saturday night, exactly a week after Albert’s arrival in Empire, and trades had been particularly slow that day.  Romeo and Jojo had gone to handle the one trade they had in Staten Island, leaving the rest of the group to mill about the theatre lazily.  Snow had begun to fall rapidly outside, so the prospect of leaving was quickly shot down.

“Bullshit, you cheated,” Albert countered, squinting at Race, “We’ve been playing for, like, two minutes.  There’s no way you already have me in check.”

“Not cheating,” Race said, loftily, “Just really good.”

Albert shook his head, scanning the board for any moves he could make in an attempt to escape Race’s bishop.  He sighed when it became evident that he was stuck.

“You’re a motherfucker, Higgins,” Albert mumbled as Race took his king, cackling.

“I may be,” Race grinned, “But I’m a smart motherfucker.”

“In some respects, but don’t give yourself more credit than you’re worth.”

“Rude,” Race pouted.  Albert snorted, glancing to the side at the TV, which was playing the local news, as per usual.  He frowned when the camera zoomed in on what looked like a crime scene.  Race followed his gaze and both boys blanched as the reporter spoke.

“This morning, Soho residents, Elmer Kasprzak and Sarah Wilkinson, were found dead in their apartment,” He said, solemnly, “Officials predict that they had been dead for nearly a week before their discovery.  Several gunshot wounds were found during the autopsies, clarifying the cause of death.  But perhaps the most disturbing detail, was the graffiti found on the wall at the scene of the crime,” The camera zoomed in on the symbol for death that Race had spray painted that day, “This notorious symbol is known to be used by Empire and Prospect.  Two of the warring gangs here in New York City.”

Albert hadn’t even noticed he was shaking until Race reached out and tentatively took the pawn that he had been holding out of his iron grip.

Albert’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke, “Sarah was, uh, she was killed, too?”

Race set his jaw, eyes fixed on the chess board, “I didn’t know.  But, yeah, I guess Jack and Davey didn’t wanna risk it.”

Albert closed his eyes, desperately trying to stop the tremors in his chest.  He could feel Race watching him, but he couldn’t stand to look at him right now.  Sure, he had predicted that Sarah wouldn’t be let off the hook, but seeing it become a reality felt like someone burning an exposed nerve.  He felt sick.

“I’m gonna shower,” He said, after another few seconds of tense silence, save for the disturbing murmur of the TV.

Race didn’t say anything as Albert walked out of the room on shaky legs, numbly venturing to the showers.  He stopped along the way to grab a towel from the bathroom bin, but frowned when he found a note saying all the towels were being washed.  Scowling, he turned down the adjacent hallway to the bathrooms and entered he laundry room.

He startled slightly when he found Crutchie, perched on top of the washing machine, pulling towels out of the dryer to fold them.  He looked up when Albert entered.

“Heya, Al,” He chirped, smiling too widely for Albert’s liking, “Need something?”

Albert licked his lips, acutely aware of the nausea that still thrummed in his stomach, “Uh, yeah,” he croaked, clearing his voice a bit, “Just, uh, just a towel?”

“Ah,” Crutchie hummed, taking a folded towel from the top of the pile and tossing it to Albert, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Albert nodded his thanks and turned to leave, but was stopped by Crutchie’s voice, “You okay?”

Albert plastered on a fake smile, “Peachy.”

Crutchie studied him for a moment, “You’re pale.  You sick?  I could get you some-”

Albert waved a shaking hand, effectively quieting the other man, “I’m fine, man, I just wanna shower.”

Crutchie’s looked like he wanted to say more, but he simply shrugged, pulling another towel out of the dryer, “Alright,” he sighed, “Hey, I know we’re part of a gang and soft shit ain’t really, like, a thing.  But if you ever need someone to talk to…” he trailed off and Albert shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, hand on the doorknob.  He really just wanted to shower.

Crutchie seemed to sense this, “Alright, I’ll letcha go, man.  Have a nice shower.”

Albert shot him a thumbs up and left the laundry room.  To his relief, the bathroom was vacant and he locked the door, savoring the solitude it provided him.  He turned the shower to the hottest setting and stepped in, allowing the water to wash over him.  He breathed deeply as the shivers that wracked his body slowed to a stop.  Ten minutes later, his mind was significantly clearer and he couldn’t help but think that he was getting better at handling this.  

He climbed into bed, stomach rumbling, and with a jolt, he realized that he hadn’t eaten dinner.  He considered getting up to find a snack, but decided against it.  He’d just eat extra in the morning.  Besides, everyone else seemed to have gone to bed while he was in the bathroom and he didn’t really know how to cook.

He settled into his blanket, taking his phone off the floor and clicking into his Snapchat.  A lot of his streaks were lost in the last week, but he decided to send out a few just for the sake of it.  He didn’t want to lose all connections to his previous life.  His friend, York, answered a few moments later, demanding to know where he’d disappeared to.  Biting his lip, Albert decided to leave him on read.  It wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Hey, Al, you up?” Albert lifted his head off of his pillow.  Through the curtain, he could see the outline of Race’s curly hair propped on his hand.

“Yeah, what’s up? You good?” He whispered back, shifting so that he could hear better.

“No, yeah, I’m good. I was just gonna tell you to follow my meme account.”

“On Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

Albert suppressed the urge to laugh, “I mean, uh, sure.  What’s your user?”

“Uh,” Race pulled back the curtain and peered around, making eye contact with Albert, “It’s a shit ton of underscores, then hotdogmilk- all one word- then another underscore.”

This time Albert really did laugh, but more out of disbelief than anything else, “You’re kidding.”

“No?” Race’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s it.”

“No, no it’s just that I’ve been following you since you were at 400 followers.  Good content, man.”

Race was practically glowing, “Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem,” Albert hesitated, then asked on a whim, “Wanna go make mac and cheese?  I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Race smirked, already moving to put on a pair of socks, “Yeah, man, I’m down.”

They tiptoed to the kitchen and quietly got out the ingredients.  Albert was reaching for a box of elbow macaroni, when Race stopped him, “Ah, ah, let’s use my stash,” he said, winking.

Albert frowned, “Your stash?”

Race nodded, kneeling on his hands and knees to reach under the sink.  He brought out a gallon sized plastic bag, filled with penne pasta.

He held it up, grinning, “No one else knows about this, but it’s a Higgins family specialty.”

Albert’s eyebrows shot up, “You make pasta?”

Race blinked owlishly, “Yeah,” he said, sounding vaguely condescending, “I’m Italian.”

Albert jerked his head back in surprise, “You’re Italian?”

“I know,” Race said, “The blonde hair and blue eyes are off-putting, but yeah, I’m Italian,” he moved to put water on the stove, “Weren’t you there when I cursed Jack out in Italian after he won poker the other night?”

Albert put a saucepan on the stove next to the pasta pot, “I mean, I was, but I thought you were just extra like that.”

“Nope,” Race said, “I mean, you’re not incorrect, I am extra, but that was legit.”

“Wow,” Albert said, starting to melt butter for the cheese sauce, “The more ya know.”

“So, tell me about yourself, Al,” Race said, conversationally as he waited for the water to boil.

Albert glanced sideways at him, adding some flour and milk to the butter to create a bechamel sauce, “What do you want to know?”

Race shrugged, sticking out his bottom lip a bit, “I dunno, what do you like to do?  What are your interests?”

Albert stirred the pot thoughtfully, “I don’t really know.  I was studying to become a mechanical engineer before all this shit went down, so I dunno.  Stuff like that.”

“Damn,” Race breathed, “Mechanical engineering’s pretty intense.”

“Nah, s’just numbers and stuff,” Albert said, nonchalantly, “Couldya pass me the cheddar cheese?”

Race passed him the bag of cheese and watched as he added it to the now thick sauce.

“What about you?” Albert asked, “What are your interests?”

Race scuffed the floor with his toe, looking mildly uncomfortable, “I dunno, I haven’t done much outside of shit for Empire,” he paused for a moment, “But I do like to read.  I’m not great at it, but I like doing it.”

“Yeah?” Albert was a little surprised, Race didn’t seem like the reading type, “What do you like to read?  Also, the water’s boiling.”

“Shit,” Race scrambled to turn down the stove, then added a fair amount of salt to the water before pouring his pasta in, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Anyway,” Race continued, probing the pasta to break the pieces apart, “I like books that make you, like, think, ya know?  Like, 1984, and shit like that.”

Albert clicked his tongue approvingly, “That’s a goodass read.”

“Ain’t it?  Like, it’s not like the other shit dystopian novels.  It’s got hella depth and is more than just, death and destruction and shit.”

Albert nodded, “I feel,” he brought the cheese sauce off the heat and covered it with a lid, “That’s definitely on my list of favorites.”

“I thought I heard voices,” Albert and Race jumped violently at the new presence.  A boy, who looked no older than 10 years old, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing a white undershirt and Star Wars themed pajama pants.

“Les!” Race blurted out, “It’s, like, near midnight.  You should be asleep.”

“I’m 11,” Les said, looking slightly offended, “I don’t have a bedtime.”

Race floundered for a moment, but Les was already moving to seat himself at the counter, “Anway,” he smiled, “Hi, Albert.”

Albert blinked, “How did you know-”

“I heard there was a new guy and I don’t recognize you.  I put two and two together, it’s not rocket science.”

Albert and Race exchanged a bemused look, “Anway, what’re you guys making?” Les questioned, gesturing to the pots on the stove.

“Mac and cheese,” Race said, draining the cooked pasta, “Want some, squirt?”

Les rolled his eyes, “I stopped being squirt when I turned ten, you useless Italian.”

“Geez,” Race looked slightly wounded, “Harsh crowd.  Guess you don’t want any.”

“Bitch!” Les squeaked, “Of course I want mac and cheese.”

“Then you better respect your elders,” Race sang, transferring the pasta to the cheese sauce pan and stirring.  

Les hopped down, peering over his shoulder at the mac and cheese, “That’s what good pussy sounds like.”

“Les,” Race scolded, as Albert and Les cackled,  “No vine references.  That’s my thing!”

“Who said!”

“I did!”

“So what?”

“Listen, you tiny shit-”

“Guys!” Albert cut them off, “Can we just eat the goddamn mac and cheese?  I’m starving.”

Race huffed, but served three bowls of the dish nonetheless.  They all sat at the counter, digging in right away.

“Holy shit,” Albert said, mouth full of pasta, “This is really fucking good penne, Race, what the fuck.”

Race smiled, cheeks stuffed with food, making him resemble some sort of blonde chipmunk, “Thanks!”

They ate in silence, the only sound being the scrape of forks against ceramic bowls.  Each of them helped themselves to seconds, then thirds, until it was all eventually gone.

“Wow, I have a massive food baby, now,” Les commented, patting his stomach idly.

“Me too,” Race groaned, “And I forgot my lactose pills, so I’m aboutta die.”

Albert choked on the water he was drinking, “You’re lactose intolerant, too?”

“Yeah, wait,” Race said, eyeing him, “Does this mean you also forgot your lactose pills?”

Les looked between them a few times, “Rip,” he muttered.

They cleared their dishes, then got to work tidying up the kitchen.  They finished fairly quickly and made to go back to their beds, but were stopped short by a very annoyed looking Davey outside the kitchen.

“Lester Jacobs,” he reprimanded, arms folded at his chest.  He looked like a mother.  A very terrifying, murderous mother, “What are you doing still awake?”

Les shrugged, pushing past him down the hallway, “Midnight snack!” He called over his shoulder.

Davey sighed, “Kids,” he muttered, addressing Albert and Race for the first time, “Did I miss mac and cheese?”

Albert glared at him, hatred bubbling in his stomach.  He hadn’t had many interactions with Davey since the day of Elmer’s murder.  Only a passing glance here or there.  He still made Albert’s skin crawl.  His authoritative and oddly stoic demeanor sat badly in his stomach and that, combined with the fact that he quite literally shot his best friend in the head, made him a candidate for the top of Albert’s enemy list.

“Yeah, sorry, bucko,” Race said, clapping him on the back apologetically.

“Shame,” Davey said with no real emotion behind his words, “Anyway, do you think you two could pick up a trade in Queens tomorrow?”

Albert opened his mouth to snap something, but Race interjected before he could, “Sure, what time?”

Davey clicked into his phone, pulling up a photograph of some graffiti, “It looks like, um, 7:15.  Heroin trade.”

Race’s jaw dropped, “7:15 am?”

“Looks like it,” Davey said, “Here, I’ll send you the picture for reference.”

“Thanks, Davey-o.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry.”

XXX

Albert woke up to a faceful of shaving cream.  He choked, spluttering for a minute, before gathering his wits enough to wipe the cream off of his face.  

He sat up, glaring at Race, who was holding a can of shaving cream, an innocent smile plastered on his face, “I tried to shake you awake, but you were comatose.  I had to resort to extreme measures.”

Wordlessly, Albert took a handful of cream off his face and chucked it at Race, who dodged it skillfully, “Bitchass,” he grumbled.

“C’mon, I already letcha sleep in some,” Race said, nudging Albert’s exposed leg with his boot, “We gotta get going.  Wash up while I get the shit from Finch.”

Albert flipped him off, but got up nonetheless, getting clothes from his bin, before heading to the bathrooms to clean off his face and freshen up.  Ten minutes later, the two of them were exiting the theatre into the snow, bananas in hand.  It was 6:45 and still dark, casting a calm atmosphere over the city.  They were to be in Corona, Queens in a half-hour, so they opted to take a taxi rather than the subway.  Albert was still fairly tired, so he took the ride to doze against the window.  They arrived 20 minutes later and trekked through the cold to the location of a trade, teeth chattering in the wind.

“I think it’s in here,” Race said, nodding his head towards an old furniture store on the corner of one street.  

They entered the shop and Albert frowned, “How will we know who to give the trade to?” He whispered as they made their way to the back.

“A code for heroin in our circle is ‘powder’, so I’ma ask if they have any and see what the guy responds with.”

Albert nodded, following him to the counter, where a young man, probably around twenty, was sitting.  He looked half-asleep, but perked up when they approached, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Race said, “Got any powder?”

The guy raised his eyebrows skeptically, “You Empire?”

Race reflexively looked over his shoulder, tensing up slightly, but he recovered quickly, “Depends who’s asking.”

“Trevor.”

Race relaxed upon hearing the name, “Beautiful, yes.  I’m Empire.  Got the dough?”

Trevor nodded, opening the cash register and pulling out fifty dollars.  Race grinned and held out his hand expectantly.  Trevor rolled his eyes and reluctantly placed the cash in his outstretched palm.

“Kay, there’s your shit,” He snapped, “Where’s mine?”

Race pocketed the money and reached into his jacket, pulling out a neatly folded paper bag and placing it on the counter.  He waited while Trevor poured out the contents and studied it for a moment before nodding.  He looked pleased as he spit into his palm and held it out for Race to take, who returned the gesture.

“Thank ya,” He said.

“Welcome,” Race said, pumping his hand too enthusiastically for 7 am, “Pleasure doing business.”

“Likewise.”

They exited the store, delayed only briefly by Race getting sidetracked by an ugly carpet purse, claiming that Romeo would love it.  Eventually, Albert was able to drag him out and down the street, but before they could hail another taxi, Race let out a yelp and pulled Albert into a small bodega.

“What are we here for?” Albert hissed, tugging on Race’s sleeve as he browsed the aisles.

“I’m tryna get high tonight,” Race said distractedly, plucking a bag of jalapeno cheetos off a shelf, “And these,” he held up the bag for Albert to see, “Are wonderful when the munchies hit.”

Albert bit his lip, annoyance and vague fear pricking the back of his neck, “And we couldn’ta done this, I don’t know, in our own turf where we aren’t at risk of getting fucking killed?”

“Please,” Race scoffed, “We’re always at risk of getting killed.”

“What if some Prospect guys catch us?”

“I’ve got a gun and a knife, we’re fine.”

“Okay, but what if-”

“Jesus Christ, shut up and let me buy fucking cheetos, it’ll take two seconds.”

Albert squinted at him, but stopped talking nonetheless.  Race began to scan the shelves again and Albert glanced around, zeroing in on a packet of gum.  In a sudden moment of impulse, he reached out and opened it, taking a singular piece of gum out and popping it into his mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Race asked, cocking his head, making him look like a confused dog.

“I’m a criminal now,” Albert said, chewing, “May as well live up to it.”

“By stealing gum?”

Albert blew a bubble, popping it loudly, “Yes.”

“Alrighty then,” Race said, slowly, “Lemme check out, I’ll be right back.”

Albert wandered around the store for a few more minutes before Race met him by the milk, “Ready to go?”

Albert nodded, putting the gallon of chocolate milk he had been studying back in the refrigerator. They got out of the bodega to see that the sun had risen completely and Albert had to squint to see clearly.  

Race clicked into his phone, mumbling something about ordering an Uber this time, because they’re cleaner, but shouts from the alley they were next to put them on alert.  Race and Albert frowned at one another before scooting closer to hear.

“What the fuck is this?” A low, gravelly voice, thick with a Brooklyn accent, growled.

“Uh, it’s uh, it’s weed, man, like I said,” Another voice said, fear dripping in their tone.

“No, asshole,” The Brooklyn accent snarled, “This is fucking oregano.”

“I didn’t know, man, I’m-”

“Save it.  Hotshot, take care of him,” Brooklyn accent barked, “Motherfucker really thinks he can trick the King of Brooklyn.”

“You got it, boss,” A new voice said.  Albert spared a glance at Race, who had turned a scary shade of white.  He looked like he was shaking and Albert frowned.  What was happening?  A gunshot brought both of them out of their trances and Race cursed under his breath, grabbing Albert’s arm and running in the opposite direction.  As they sprinted, Albert couldn’t help but be reminded of the day they met, when Race was running from the police.  Albert grimaced to himself as he thought about how simple his life had still been then.  He missed it, but this was his life now and there were more pressing issues at hand.

They stopped in a new alleyway, several blocks away.  Albert leaned against the wall, sucking in air in an attempt to catch his breath.

“So much for an Uber,” He panted, “What the fuck just happened?  Were those Prospect guys?”  

He looked up at Race, who had his back against the bricks, eyes squeezed shut and arms laced behind his head.  He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, before opening his eyes and locking his gaze with Albert.  His expression was indescribable and Albert couldn’t help the wave of dread that flooded his body like ice water.

“That was Prospect alright,” Race said, swallowing, “That there,” He paused, taking a deep breath, “that was Spot Conlon.”

-

OOO SPOTTIE BOY IS HERE (BROOKYLNS HEREEEE)

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[inexchangeforyoursoul]

Luffy, son.... you are not supposed to serve tea this hot to people… (I wanted that to be its separate chapter, but it turned out to be waaay too short for that, and thus, a waste of ch numbers. Art incoming, too; because of that, this will be another “tumblr exclusive (for a while)” part.)

As I’m rather happy with this thing and it’s a halfway Law-centric chapter, I shall put it in the main tags. (this is a dumb LawXOC thing; this one seems to beee.... roughly 4500 words, attagirl)

This was the part that was fun to write even while unmotivated. I think y'all understand why. Now, for the less pleasant things, out of which I'm missing the next two or three chapters entirely… ho, boy. Now, this will be power writing. (Also thanks to anyone who might be here who might have written any of the anon messages I got to keep me going past this particular chapter???)

Ps.: do not ever sterilize your whole entire house if you have a kid. They are meant to catch things so their immune systems get stronger… and have work to do. Because if they don't, they get bored, and a bored immune system will look for shit to defend against anyway; this is how your kid gets allergies ranging from 10 pollens through animals to fucking SUNSHINE. They are meant to be sick a lot in the first couple of years, deal with it. And fucking vaccinate them, too.

31. We need to talk

8 o'clock; there's noone opening the door gently, nor is there anyone near-falling down the stairs. All is perfectly still.

Law drums on the desk with his fingers and sighs; he kind of saw this coming. Doesn't make convincing himself to go out and fetch the girl any easier, however. He's about as unwilling to seek her out as it is the other way round.

A good ten minutes later, he drags himself out of his room and up to the surface; it's relatively silent for a Saturday morning, but a lot of these idiots have been out partying, so whatever. He wouldn't be surprised if half of his crew was still out snoring on a bank or alley.

It's all the more scary when a masked rando pops up right beside him at the railing of the Thousand Sunny with a cheerful ‘yo, Kat’ as he starts checking on her whereabouts.

It's Luffy with one of those fucking… things. Looks like a cheap imitation, too. Seriously… if he didn't know it was one of these idiots, he would have gotten a heart attack. He's still way too jumpy in this body, goddamn.

“Strawhat-ya, honestly... does Kat-ya make a face like this all day?” he asks, with mild annoyance, pointing at his scowling self. “Also… take that thing off.” It's kind of creeping him out, now that he's taken a good look at it up close.

“Ah, right, it’s you, Torao… and nope, it's pretty rare,” Luffy nods, then plucks the mask off his head. “Found it between these big warehouses! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I'm not surprised it was ditched… Anyway, if even you can tell that much, then why do you keep mixing us up?” It's been like… no, not ‘like,’ it HAS been a week, for fuck's sake.

“Well, hugger you is definitely not you you, but otherwise... both Kat and Torao are worried, sad or angry most of the time, so it's hard to tell them apart, to be honest,” he states wondering as he drops the prop on deck with relative care and puts his hands on the back of his head to lounge at the railing. “Like today. And, whenever they are really tired, it feels like the prickly needle thing you get when your leg falls asleep. Everyone else tends to be more like... slow waves, when you stand in water.” He stretches one leg out and flaps the sandal to his soles.

“Huh?” What? Being talked about in third person is also weird, but… excuse him?

“The feel you two give off is pretty similar is all. Though I guess Kat is also more tense overall, at least she used to be. And she has a lot of weird jokes. That I usually don’t get,” he squints. Whenever the others find something she said funny and he doesn't get it, he feels left out, really.

“No, I mean… what would she be pissed off at?” And sad. And tense… He won't even try comprehending that other stuff. Anyhow, she can be the very literal definition of a nervous system at times, that's for sure. The very first thing he knew about her was that she was either really nonchalant about something, or about to have a panic attack, after all. And not exactly in the situations that matched those reactions... she shrugged off a date with the Reaper, but was really anxious when Nami dragged her off to get her cuts and bruises treated by Chopper on board of the Sunny two minutes later. But... halt, stop. It just registered… what does rubber boy mean by him being similar to her?

Luffy shrugs. “Dunno and don't really care. It's not even directed at anything, though... which is the weird thing about it.” He hops up on the railing to sit, then crosses his arms.

Law sighs… his observation haki will never be on this level. And the way Luffy formulates it is akin to an 8-year-old giving descriptions of a dream, which doesn't help, either. Reading faces and gestures can only get you so far, doesn't it.

Scowling a bit, Luffy eventually comes to a conclusion. “Maybe she just hates herself.”

The surgeon is a little taken aback by that; going by what this dunce just said, it makes sense, but... “Why would she...?” he mumbles mostly to himself, also crossing his arms. Going by whatever he could gather from Shachi and the rumors from her time in the dining hall, it did cross his mind that she might have some self esteem issues, that’s why he decided to be better safe than sorry and basically walk on eggshells when dealing with her. How she acts in general can support the idea, too, when considering some traits from another point of view…

“You are the one hanging out with her all the time, so why do you ask me?” Luffy pouts. The expression turns into a thoughtful one soon, then turns into mild worry.  “… do you hate yourself, Torao?”

In the blink of an eye, he and his body (that’s worryingly cold in the first place) both realize that it’s like twelve degrees Celsius at best outside, and that not taking a sweater over a thin undergarment and breezy, medium sleeved shirt was a Mistake™. “You're… overthinking it,” he responds while waving dismissively.

“Really? That's a relief!” the other captain sighs and puts a smile back on.

“... yeah.” Perhaps it all boils down to her having a similar way to handle her emotions? She did keep being in pain a secret, which is something he does, so that's one thing they have in common. But goddammit, Strawhat… don't just say things like this all of a sudden.

He peeks then up towards the garden, where rhythmic little thuds have been disturbing the silence for the past minute. They really ought to talk.

Right now.

This is much easier to do once Nami appears from the direction Kat could be, as the navigator won’t let her captain go alone and get himself lost again in town when latter declares his intention to go back, even despite his excuses of being able to see the Sunny from the church tower when it’s not dark. Having gotten rid of Luffy surprisingly quick this way, Law stops on the stairs as soon as he’s high enough to look around. He peeks towards where he suspects her being, and indeed, the noise that started somewhere down the line was caused by a dazed Kat. He weighs his options for a moment; on one hand, taking some time off is a reasonable way to handle this. On the other… if he leaves this up to the girl, she may never show her face again, which is no viable route for him to take. He’ll definitely have to take initiative.

Noticing the light steps closing in on her, Kat stops drumming her heels against the ship.

Law sighs. “Look…. I know I’m making you uncomfortable right now, but I really kind of need my body back as soon as possible.” … maybe not the best start, but he got the point across.

After a short pause, Kat bonks her head into the wooden pillar in front of her with considerable power, and takes a long, sharp breath.

Law watches in perturbed bafflement. Um… maybe… it was a bad start, after all.

“I’ll manage,” she sighs, straightening herself at once. “It’s hard to ignore, and cuts my productivity in half, but… is, what it is. I’ve kind of made peace with telling my boss as-is, too, so that won’t be bothering me.” She pauses the fast rant for a moment to cut the speed, and stares into the waves licking away at the side of the ship. She had enough time to think about this somewhat objectively during her short-ish wake around midnight and later in the morning. “And you… shouldn’t have to worry about it, either. Once you're all gone for good, it will fade away soon. Knowing myself, I might not even be able to remember your name in a few months, anyway,” she shrugs all limp. “I’m no good with names, so… it would be nothing new.” It’s a famous and super simple name that’s not hard to catch, so she likely will. Maybe even his surname, since it’s a funny one. No promises, though.

… twisting knives much? Sheesh, he never suspected her of being capable of such… savagery. And he thought Luffy was being blunt today… Generally, he likes both of their honesty quite a lot, but Kat saying that he’ll be deleted from mind as soon as he’ll be out of sight is… a bit too much. And frankly, it hurts like a bitch. If he was in any way unsure about how he felt about her until this, well... there are no doubts about it now. He better keeps all of this to himself, though.

After all... it really is for the best. Technically, good news, even. And he also gets her; it’s the pragmatic thing to do. Having any kind of amiable relationship with a pirate is not exactly easy. There's no sure way to reach them, and sending messages to someone endangers that person. Hell, they all could die the day after setting sail for all he knows. A part of him has an even deeper understanding of what she means… it's not about worrying about anyone getting killed, quite the contrary. She's sheltering herself from getting hurt, by simply staying indifferent. He handles strangers the same way, and did the same for the longest time while with the Family: laughing whenever he felt like it... helping if he wanted to, or if he had to... generally enjoying the company, but not building any meaningful relationships. The question is, though... how did she get there, to this mindset? Few normal people do that. It could be just the way she’s always been, but considering how much she strives to please people around her, and how sensitive she seems to be to other’s moods in the first place…

Who hurt her?

Getting no response and feeling his eyes on her back is getting to her fast; Kat puts her head back against the pole and continues. “... Sorry, that sounds... really mean... but I suck at keeping in touch anyway. People just... come and go?” She shrugs, then starts to swing her legs again, until her heels hit the ship and she stops with limbs still flailing about. “I have no idea what my kinda-friends from high school or college are up to, either. Even when I think about fun times and miss someone… I never sit down and write a letter or go visit. I don’t get any further than grabbing a pen, but… what even are the chances they still live where they used to, huh?” She puts on a bitter smile that fades away fast. “Am I... a bad person? For that?” Her voice is unstable and hoarse at this point. She takes a shaky breath, followed by a gulp.

“... no, you're not.” Not being able to keep up with people is okay. Being stuck in a cage of her own making is, though. He takes a moment of consideration, then joins her at the railing.

Kat stares down to where her hands should be through the white pillar as Law plops down, then speaks up after a short pause while holding back a sniffle. ”The other week, I was wondering... why none of them tried to hit me up, either. Ever. I guess I'm just... that insignificant...” The sniff escapes and she also needs to wipe off a tear.

“…” He didn’t plan on joining a therapy session, nor doing anything else past talking, but a good old shoulder pat is definitely warranted here, so that’s what he does. Realizing that the cold hand made her shiver is too little, too late, so he just rolls with it. “Now, now… you know like a dozen of infamous people as of last Tuesday, so that automatically makes you count for something.” Her self esteem really seems to be in a bad shape. There's definitely some asses that ought to be kicked on these islands, because this is definitely not normal behavior.

Cannot help but crack a smile at that. “If you say so.” She rubs her eyes. “Sorry, I went off tangent again.”

“As did I the other day… and? Got it out of your system?” Seems like she’s bouncing back at least.

“Kinda,” she breathes after a pause.

“Just kinda?”

“…” She rests her temples against the railing again, even though it’s starting to hurt, bump she just made notwithstanding. “Every now and then, I keep thinking… how there would be someone in my place to do all the things I do.” Her eyebrows furrow. “If not now, then later. I’m just another pebble in the sea, and it feels… suffocating.”

“… I see.” Oh, boy… this actually sounds like more zero filter stuff, but without drugs to make it weird. Which is iffy, since he’s far from being a psychologist. Well, is what it is… take notes, analyze, and most importantly, watch your fucking mouth.

“Like, I know it’s the same for important people, inventing and doing actual, impactful stuff. Because, there’s little difference in the grand scheme of things, is there? It just doesn’t matter whether something happens today or in a hundred years. Everyone is replaceable. As is everything else. What I wanna say, is… wanting attention… at all… makes me feel selfish. Even when it probably shouldn’t.” Feeling the hand on her shoulder makes it tingle… she’d move, if not for knowing that he would lift it off again.

“… Um…”  Okay… he might have stepped into this one hard. Aside from blinking wildly, because this has suddenly nosedived into deep waters… he needs a second here. The spaced-out girl he got to know in the past two weeks thinks about this shit regularly? She did seem less bubbly and way less excitable than she actually is at first glance, but… holy shit. She actually is pretty good at brooding herself. If he wasn’t so dumbfounded, he’d be impressed. “… wow, I… never considered the possibility that you could be a nihilist.” A very sentimental nihilist. That’s certainly what he takes from this. The conclusion is kind of enlightening.

She remains silent for a second, then squints. “... all I crave is death.”

Law lets out an exasperated sigh, then slaps her on the back of the head resulting in another light bonk. “Don’t you think for a second that I cannot tell the difference between you being serious and on the brink of grinning like an idiot,” he tells her off with the other hand on his hip. She may be trying to keep a poker face up, but none can do if she’s gonna use that overly dramatic delivery anyway. This woman, he swears to god.

And, as soon as the jig is up, there it is: the smile.

She reaches up to scratch the head area that stings a little after getting smacked. “Heh… sorry, had to break that gloomy mood.” Though, no lie, she does like talking about heavy stuff like that. If Law did not seem to be bothered by it, she probably would have continued.

“By willingly pissing me off?” Was that really necessary?

“Well… it worked, didn’t it?”

“Touche,” he breathes, crossing his arms. “But don’t make a habit out of it, if you know what’s good for you.” If she has actually figured out how to dig down to his berserk buttons, she’s playing with fucking fire, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she found enjoyment the activity. “I can fix myself up as soon as I get my body back, and rearranging your internal organs or face with, or without my powers, is not beneath me.”

She nods, humming. “I didn’t doubt for a second that you’d make a feisty kuja, alright. Will not overdo the gremlin act.”

“… good.”

After a silent pause, Kat stops rubbing her head. “… say, Law?”

He lets out a questioning hum.

“Are you in pain… because you were sick?”

“…” Is there a point to tell her anything if it’s so obvious in the first place? Oh well, she's asking, so… “Yeah. There are a few intergrowths I cannot really do anything with. Removing the lead deposits left my body aching at random, the bigger they were, the worse it is… you’ve probably noticed, but some areas like the left side of my torso and the right jaw are the main culprits. Those spots tend to act out a little even when everything else is fine. And I have additional god awful headaches when it’s too hot or cold outside and I don’t hidrate proper. These are honestly the worst aspects of it, no lie.”

“Act out like... Saturday evening?” When she first noted how something was a little off? It’s the only common experience they have…

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, like that. The odd tissue that seems cancerous during a checkup, I can get rid of... but the fucking pain just won’t go away. Unless I kill off the receptors altogether, but that strikes me as an exceptionally stupid idea.” Even if it sounds really tempting at times. Maybe if he did it to his internal organs only…

“Wait…” Kat takes the first look at him today, and looks very much taken aback at that;  “did you say cancer?” As soon as he looks back, she averts her eyes again. Seeing him, save looking him in the eye, is just… not something she can handle at the moment.

He blinks at the reaction, but keeps his eyes on her for a second. “Heard me right. Don’t shit yourself, I can deal with it.” Looking back in front of him, he adds, “I’m also legally infertile, but that’s the least of my problems.” He’s unlikely to get old, too, but honestly… there’s only so many times you can cheat your expiration date.

“Oh,” she says a second later. And sounds quite disappointed at that.

“... don't you ‘oh’ me. You can have all the kids you want for all I care.” As long as her plans involve someone else, that is. … aw fuck, brain, don't you have anything else to comment on?

“Oh, no, no, no, it's just…” She gives the sideburns a scratching; “This is going to sound so stupid… but you seem like… the dad type?”

Law laughs out at the ludicrous idea. “Me? Seriously?” Geez, that’s so… out of the blue. Even more so than the being married line. Never even seen him with a kid around, has she? They just tend to shit their pants right away. He needs to put a hand on his temples to process this a bit… and to make sure there’s no headache caused by stupid on the way. “God… the hell makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters… someone like Luffy would drop his toddler into the ocean by accident, which you would… not.” As simple as that. From what little she’s heard about Garp’s parenting… even if Law happened to be on the strict side, there is, like, no competition here, honestly.

A millisecond of consideration ends up in a concerned, solemn nod on Law’s part. He wouldn’t want Strawhat oversee children in general, or at the very least, not leave them with him all alone. He out-dads him in any technicality regarding safety and common sense, so that’s a score.

“You still could be fun around, though,” Kat continues leaning back; “Like… you would totally do something like sticking them to the ceiling as punishment for being bad,” she muses with a little relaxed smile, pulling up some average family scenarios. “but, unless you are obviously angry with them, they would love it instead. You could experiment with pretty much everything from floating to chopping them up, but all would backfire spectacularly as they think of it as just another game.”

“... can’t argue with that,” the notes, raising a brow. “Little hellraisers be like that.” Punishing a kid that's acting out, well… Best bet would be the basic ‘send them into a corner’ situation instead of getting creative, huh?

“You’d also be the go-to solution for homework… despite not being helpful at all.” Definitely trolling the shit out of anyone who’s trying to use him for an easy pass… yes, yes. Would come through when needed, too, she knows that much firsthand.

“Correct,” Law nods with a smug grin. He absolutely would be the most useless genius around. It would drive them crazy and he would be enjoying the hell out of it. If they legitimately did not understand something, though… that’s actually negotiable.

Having seen enough of his self-assured smile from the corner of her eye, she addresses him directly. “... get off your high horse, Law. You might be a little shit, but you’d also be out-bawling anyone at any milestone your kiddos reach whatsoever,” she states with an amused look.

“Absolutely not,” comes the indignant reply; “Do I look like the sentimental type to you?”

She takes a long, thoughtful look at his general direction. “Look… I might not be able to guarantee it, but as far as I’m concerned, you would transform into the worst mess of a doting ‘pappa’ there ever was as soon as you’d be holding your firstborn.” First day of school and graduations would be just as bad, if not worse… god save everyone if he’s around for a wedding. Him sobbing in a tux while trying to operate a visual transponder is not a mental image she’ll forget any time soon. In fact, she’s going to treasure the hell out of it. Even if she’s more used to him looking like her, so it takes some extra imagination points to see him in his own body.

Her chuckle earns a very unamused face. “I won’t even begin to try and imagine what you just thought of, but really? Really really?”

“Ve-really,” she states while booping his nose, then gets her hand pushed off to the side. “Honestly… you’re saying it’s very unlikely in the first place, right?” She ponders, scratching her head while sitting upright again. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be all over a baby? Beating whatever low odds?”

“...” She’s probably not wrong on that one. Up to eight, maybe ten per cent aren’t a lot...

“And let’s not even get started on the naming process… You have at least…” her fingers straighten one by one; feather guy, little girl, baby’s grandparents, and who knows, who else? “four, if not a dozen they’d have to pry from your cold, dead hands before settling for anything else!” He based his entire image on one of these people, for fuck’s sake. First boy would definitely get that name, whatever it may be.

… not to mention the chances of a healthy child…

“And… little ones are always sick or some shit, right? You’d go into doctor overdrive. Give them checkups like every fucking week, and be staring from over the bathroom door to make sure they wash their teeth, and… dude, I’d fucking hate to be your kid, oh my god!” At least it takes him like point five seconds to sterilize the entire house instead of scrubbing everything all day like a manic housewife, but holy shit…

“Kat…“

“I have no idea how you’d handle feeding them in any capacity, though… you run, like, exclusively on a handful of veggies, rice, potatoes… and chicken… and fish. And, you suck at cooking.” And the occasional drink. Would he be willing and able to make legit sandwiches…? He has no qualms touching the bread, made those French toasts, so that’s a start. This kind of presupposes him being allowed in the kitchen like a single dad, but still, she can’t help wondering how he would tackle that humongous elephant in the room if the need arises.

“Kat-ya, stop.”

The edge in the word startles her enough to delete the train of thought altogether. “Uh… um…” Did she say something wrong again? Did she hurt him? Or insult him? Is… is he angry…?

He sighs, staring into the darkness underneath the waves. “I suppose… you are right,” he says a few seconds later, his head also meeting the railing. “I am… the dad type.”

She stares down at her now interlocked hands; the images she found so amusing before…  look sickly and pale all of a sudden. A quick reality check has sucked all life out of them. Managed to fuck his day up again, huh?

“Dreaming… is dangerous,” Law concludes. The last time he did something like that… came with just another harsh wake-up call.

“… sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.” Again.

“Eh, I’ll get over it.” However… he’s once again reminded of the fact that he’d been living to fulfill a singular goal for over a decade, and ever since he’s pretty much reached it, he’s been feeling… well, rather lost, to be honest. Stretch goals, like going against Kaido are a sufficient distraction at best. Sometimes he hears a little voice in the back of his head breaking through regardless before muffling it, talking about being tired of this life… bringing up the clinic of his own he's always wanted… having a home to return to.

Peace.

He knows better than to hope for any of that.

A single finger tapping his arm makes him realize that his eyes and nose cavity are burning up. This is followed by her barely audible, little mouse voice; “... Law?”

He takes a shaky breath and rubs his temples, sneaking in a finger to wipe away the half-ripe tear from the corner of an eye. “I’m fine, I’m…” he comes to a halt upon looking at her; “oh my god, are you crying?”

“... a little,” Kat squeaks after swallowing once.

Law snorts all of a sudden, then breaks out in painful laughter. The tears are also coming, but fuck it, because... while he’s hurting, this… also feels kinda good. Actually, it feels great. Talking about all of this… is great. She’s a better psychologist than he could ever aspire to be. Cafe girl… you are too fucking nice for your own good. Sincerely, fuck you.

As soon as the surprise wears off, Kat joins in, too.

After a solid minute or two, Law flops on the grass with hands covering his face. “... both of us… are kinda fucked up, huh?” he ponders out loud after the last couple of laughs. It’s kind of a dumb question; who even is not fucked in the head from all the people that he knows? He should have known that she was no different, even if the causes are still a mystery. No wonder the two of them can hit it off.

“I guess so,” Kat sniffs, rubbing her entire face that must be as red as it feels.

Sliding his freezing hands lower, Law stares skyward at the thickening clouds for a while. Laughing and crying are both exhausting… not to mention doing both at once. It feels like floating in a weird dream. Peaceful, even. Every weight has slid on his back, which is neatly supported by this nice ship made of pure sunshine, leaving him to breathe freely for the time being. He would say a ‘thank you,’ but it gets stuck somewhere in his throat.

He must be in really fucking deep, huh. Not that he minds, though… it feels really nice, after all. A little too much to be true, yes. But for now… he doesn’t want to worry about his short future. Instead, right here, right now... he just wants to enjoy this moment.  As much as he can. As long as he can. To the fullest.

[crazyfreckledginger]

A True Asshole - Part 10

In Your PoV: After breaking the kiss to breathe, I slowly opened my eyes again, blushing at what had just happened. He smiled at me, leaning down again, and giving me a quick kiss on the lips before striding towards the cage.

Leaving me a blushing and confused mess.

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

The next morning....

Your PoV

I woke up on my bed, thought of what happened yesterday night still roamed my mind. What is Donald trying to do? And why did I fall for it? I closed my eyes again, only listening to the little commotion of the Dinobots. Until I heard a few cracks. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to the eggs. I saw little heads pop out of the eggshells.

"Awww!" I cooed, slowly reaching my hand to them.

They came closer examining my hand then smelling it. They then looked at me curiously.

Until their gaze averted to something behind me. Nanoseconds later, I was embraced by two strong arms.

"Aww, look how cute! I didn't know there was anything cuter than you!" Donald kissed my cheekbone. I used my powers, pushing him away.

"Oh my god Donald if you ever do that to me again I swear I will punch you so hard you will be wearing those douchey sunglasses of yours for the rest of your sorry life!"

He laughed at my reaction.

"And probably get another golden tooth!" I added.

He smiled

"I didn't know dragons existed!?" He acted out, curiosity filling his eyes.

"It's like we're starting our own little family!" He cooed, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his chin on my shoulder.

Red aura circled my hands before making them go through me, propelling Donald backwards yet again. This time using more force, making him fall on my bed.

I shuffled for a box under my bed while Donald just laid there, his head in my pillow.

"Pierce get your dirty self off my bed, I'd have to disinfect it!"

"I'm takin' in your scent! You smell nice darlin'!"

Pushing him off of my bed, resulting in a loud thump, making the newborns jump slightly, I took meat out of the box and gave it to them.

"Ya know that meat could be expired by now!" He stated.

"No, it's a refrigerated box plus I bought this meat a few days ago. It's normally for Shiva but she hasn't arrived yet!" I explained, watching the dragons eat.

"What you gonna call 'em?"

"I'm not telling you! I've kept you here long enough!"

"Not enough for me baby!" He smirked.

An aggressive roar came from outside the room, turning around, I saw Shiva viciously baring her teeth at Donald.

"Shiva, honey, it's ok!" I soothed.

She stopped baring her teeth but still kept an eye on the man too close to me for her liking. Moving towards me, she stood between us, before turning her head to my leg and scratching her forehead to it whilst looking up at me. I smiled in response and scratch her scalp, earning a rapid movement of her tail and a satisfied growl from her throat. She briefly closed her in the comfort I was giving her. A few seconds later, a loud robotic shriek echoed through the room. Mini Strafe (Terry from now on) flew in and gripped Donald's shirt, attempting to pull him outside. Laura, mini slug and little T soon came in. Laura glared at Donald as she walked in, wrapping herself protectively around my arm. I looked down at them, surprised by how possessive they all became.

"I'm pretty sure that's your cue to get back in the cage!" I smirked raising my eyebrows.

He grumbled by walking back towards the cage.

"Are you hungry hun?" I looked down at Laura.

"Yes!" She squeaked out.

"Go in the kitchen, I'll be with you in just a sec." I smiled.

She went out, followed by the baby Dinobots. Turning back to the dragons, who stared back at a curious Shiva, looked back up at me.

I extended my hand back to them again, where the darker skinned one approached cautiously, sniffing it once again, before nuzzling its nose into my palm.

I gave them more meat before strolling back to the kitchen with an eager Shiva on my heels.

After making sure everyone had well eaten, I spent hours searching on my computer for mutants hiding in the shadows from the different corporations that wanted to use them as weapons.

After hours of work, I was interrupted by Donald coming into my room and making himself comfortable on my bed.

"Didn't the message of Shiva and Laura go through this morning?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of my computer.

"Yeah it did but they're asleep now!" He simply stated looking at the ceiling.

"What?" I asked, finally looking up from my computer. My eyes turned to my window, where it was already dark.

"Shit! It's nighttime already!" I looked at the time at the bottom of my computer.

"Yeah!" He chuckled at my reaction.

I closed my laptop and went to the kitchen, grabbed a snack and came back to my room.

"They ate too?" I asked.

"Guessin' they didn't want to disturb you!" He stated.

"I wouldn't have!" he added.

"Okay, what are you playing at?" I asked slightly annoyed.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me with a confused look.

"Why are you so nice to me? Why did you kiss me? What are you trying to do?" I asked aggressively.

He paused for a moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" He simply informed.

"Bullshit!" I raised my voice slightly, standing up from my chair.

"You show up here, a ruthless asshole who works for a corporation that experiments on mutants, flirt with me, being all nice to me! Let alone kiss me, a mutant!" I snarled.

He stood up in response, pinning me to the wall, both of my hands above me with his robotic hand and his human hand around my neck, holding my jaw.

"You kidnapped me remember?" he growled in my ear.

"What are you playing at?" I asked again, calmly, glaring up at him.

He grinned mischievously.

"Nothing I can't get right now!" He whispered, nibbling at my ear, making me blush.

"Let me -" He interrupted me by kissing me again, more forcefully this time. He let go of my hands, placing his arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him. I placed my hands around his human hand. He let go of my jaw, turning us around, my back towards the bed. He kissed down my neck to my collarbone whilst sliding his hands down my body, before groping my ass, releasing a moan from my throat.

Smirking against my neck, he then gripped the back of my thighs and hoisted me upwards. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, gripping his perfect hair, as he walked towards the bed. He broke the kiss before gracefully laying me down on the bed. Setting himself on top of me, he then proceeded to kiss me again. He slid his hands up towards my chest, where he starting taking my top off.

------Time Skip------

The next morning...

I woke up when feeling pains in my lower extremities when shifting in my bed. I caressed the mattress beside me, feeling no heat Donald must have gone back early I thought. Blushing upon flashbacks of yesterday night that rushed through my mind, I got out of bed shaking my head trying to get the memory out of my head and went to the kitchen. Deciding to make breakfast, I ate before making a plate of food and taking it to the cage.

As I walked there, I started to get a bit worried because the closer I got to the cage, the more empty it looked. “What the fuck? Where is he?” I cursed myself.

Hurridly marching back into my room, I changed into casual clothes before seeing a note slip off of my bed. Picking up, it read

'Had fun yesterday sweetheart! I'll see you very soon! ;)'

"SHIT!!!" I yelled.

Tagging: @lumifuer

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Mystery Man

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5077

Summary: Deciding to be more social, Simon goes to a masquerade ball fundraiser. Based on "shy kiss" to "steamy kiss" request.

Read on AO3

AN: See? I am actually working through these requests! It's just taking awhile. Hope you like it!

Simon

A masquerade ball. What a strange idea. The student union is trying to find more “creative” ways to raise funds. Guess a rich university like Watford can afford to be creative. They’ve rented out some fancy hotel ballroom nearby, got the art department to make masks, the drama department to loan costumes, and for 20 quid a person, you can dance with fellow students. It’s absolutely ludicrous. And possibly fun. I desperately need some fun.

“I can’t believe you’re going to this thing, Simon,” Penny mutters as she picks at her chicken.

“Why?” I say, mouth filled with turkey and mayo.

“Because you rarely go out, period. Plus you’re an awful dancer.”

I shrug. “I just want to have some fun. If you haven’t noticed, Pen, I’m beyond anti-social. Especially since Agatha broke up with me.” I angrily bite my sandwich. It’s only been a few weeks. The wound is still sorta raw.

Penny sighs and hangs her head. “Fine, whatever. Have fun. I’m going to stay home and study.”

“You should go to the library and join Baz. The stupid prick has spent most of his time there since October. He always leaves before I wake up and comes back after I’m asleep.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

I shrug again. “I guess. At least I don’t have to listen to him complain about the open windows anymore.”

We both laugh at that, but quickly fall back into silence. I finish my turkey club in two bites and move on to the cherry scone. As I’m buttering it, I freeze. Something processes through my brain. Penny looks at me quizzically.

“What?” she says.

I point my blunt knife at her. “What do you mean awful dancer!?”

Penny bursts out laughing. We enter a long discussion on the merits of my rhythmic movement capabilities. I argue that jumping up and down does qualify as dancing. At least in clubs it does.

When I get to my room after class the next day, a figure in a grey hoodie is rummaging through Baz’s things.

“Hey what the hell are you doing?!” I yell.

The person whips around, and I immediately relax. It is Baz. With his large, slightly tinted glasses sliding down on his long nose, and wavy black hair falling like a curtain in front of his face. He looks at me with mouth hung open in shock. I let out a long breath.

“Jesus Baz, you scared the shit out of me. Since when do you come in here?”

Baz pulls the large hardcover books into his chest. “Sorry to disturb you with my presence, Snow,” he mutters in his small voice.

Baz Pitch is a very weird guy. He’s always so pulled in and bent over. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him stand at his full height. (He’s going to be a hunchback by the time we graduate.) He rarely talks to me, just stares and looks away when I notice. We’ve been uni roommates for 6 months, and he’s said maybe a total of fifteen words to me. And all those words have been complaints or insults. So pretty much, he’s an awkward asshole in an oversized hoodie.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Be like that. I’m taking a shower.”

I stomp into the bathroom. I hear Baz scurry away and close the door behind him, then breath a sigh of relief. I’m actually glad he’s rarely here anymore. His presence makes me so anxious. It’s like walking on eggshells around him.

I shake Baz out of my mind. No need for that brain clutter. I have to take a shower, do my homework, and then go to this masquerade thing. I can’t be late.

I’m fucking late. I got caught up watching telly in the common room and completely lost track of time. Now I’m hopping out of the tube and booking it to this silly hotel. God, this better all be worth it.

I stumble through the huge double doors. Trixie, decked out in her fancy gown and fairy mask, is at the table.

“Hi, Simon...” she says.

“Hi,” I pant out, “sorry I’m late. Is... is there still time to sign up?”

Trixie looks down at her clipboard. “Actually, you’re lucky, we’ve got one costume left. 20 quid and it’s your’s.”

I nod vigorously, slapping a bill on the table. Trixie smiles and picks up a suit bag. She motions for me to follow. We go to the men’s room. She hands me the bad.

“Put this on. Mask and all, please. Event starts in 10 minutes, alright?”

“Sure thing, Trixie.”

I’m left alone in the toilet. In a stall, I unzip the outfit. It’s a ridiculously decadent, velvety thing. It consists of a white shirt, grey waistcoat, navy jacket with silver embroidery, matching pants, cravat, white tights, and black buckled shoes. At the top is a the mask. It would cover the area around my eyes, with a little crescent moon twisting out to my forehead. The grey surface and pearly accents glow under the LED light fixture.

“This is what I signed up for,” I sigh.

Can’t take back the 20 quid, I guess.

The room is bustling with fancy dressed people. A veritable sea of fluffy white shirts and ball gowns. Those masks really do their job. I can barely recognise anyone. (Or maybe I just don’t know anyone. God I’m anti-social.) I do notice Agatha, though. Her corn blonde hair is very memorable. He’s in a lovely soft pink dress with a flowery mask. I run away before she has a chance to see me. Yes, I’m a coward, and I’m fully okay with that.

There’s a food table at the back. Not anything fancy, just crackers and cheese and shit. But I’ll eat anything when I’m stressed. I wolf down a few, chewing loudly (Penny always complains about how loud I chew.)

“Maybe you should save some for the rest of us,” a smooth, melodious voice says from in front of me.

My head snaps. The man standing there, he’s... beautiful. I know he must be from our school, but I'm pretty sure I would’ve noticed a guy this handsome. He’s wearing an outfit like mine but it's bright scarlet. While mine hangs off me, his fits him perfectly, outlining his tall, graceful figure. He’s all reds and golds, from his sparkling embroidered jacket to his skin tone. His mask is styled like a dragon. It covers the whole top half of his face, and flares outwards with black and red flaps. Four twisty horns, two big and two small, poke out from the top. His gorgeous grey eyes sparkle with his playful smile.

“Um, you want some?” I say, mouth still full.

He chuckles. It’s as sweet as honey. “No, I’m quite alright. More here for the dancing than the food.”

I swallow my snacks. “Well, I want to dance too, but I’ve recently been informed that I can’t dance.”

“I’m sure you can. Anyone can with a little practice.”

I smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence... hey I didn’t get your name?”

Mystery Man freezes for a second. He looks genuinely shocked. Is it taboo to ask for names at these things? It’s not like I have a point of reference. The shock fades back into his smirk. He leans forward until our faces are inches apart. I can feel my insides twist and turn. His voice comes out as a breathy whisper.

“Isn’t it far more exciting to stay behind the mask?”

I hope this mask hides my creeping blush. “Y-Yeah, I guess.”

He smiles devilishly, showing his shining white teeth. “Excellent.”

“Hello?” A tinny voice rings out of the mic. I look to see Trixie standing at the front, next to her equally fancy dressed (I assume) girlfriend. (Those two are joined at the hip.) “This thing on? Oh goody. Hello everyone, and welcome to the first ever Watford Masquerade Ball!”

We all clap politely.

“Now, we’re going to try a sort of old fashioned baroque dance. Usually this kind of thing is done with 8 people, and we’ve got 24 here, but we’ll make it work. Now everyone grab a partner, no matter boy or girl. Baroque dancing is ludicrously gendered, but this is the modern age dammit. One of you, go line up on the left, with your partner doing the same on the right.”

I guess everyone came with partners because they line up very fast. Most of the girls choose the right, while the guys go left. (Despite Trixie’s effort, heteronormativity wins out again.) I look at Mystery Man. He offers his hand across the table with a half smile. “May I have this dance?”

God I hope my blush isn’t too bad. All I can manage is to nod dumbly and take his hand. He leads us towards the dance floor.

“Who’s gonna go to the girl side?” I whisper.

“I can, if you like,” he replies. “I’m very secure in my masculinity.”

I chuckle, earning a smile from him. “Very well then.”

Mystery Man stands in the line opposite me, along with the girls and the few other boys. I put my hands behind my back and square my shoulders. Sure, I’m terrified, but I’m also very excited. I’m certainly having fun.

“Now," Trixie starts, "this is an amalgam of baroque movements we’ve come up with in the dance department. I’ll guide you through it. Good?” There are no dissenting voices. “Alright let’s get this shit started!” Trixie yells, in true classic masquerade ball fashion.

She hits a button on her smartphone plugged into the speakers. Upbeat violin and flute music starts playing. It’s not exactly the dance music I’m used to, but I can see how someone could move to this beat.

“We start with an acknowledgement. Left side, bow to your partners.”

I watch the guy beside me cross his legs over each other, put an arm in front and on his back, and lean forward. I quickly copy him. And nearly fall on my face, stumbling forward.

“Right side, your turn.”

The ladies curtsey gracefully. Mystery Man bows perfectly, of course. He’s amazing.

“Both sides, take three steps into the centre.”

We do as Trixie says. I’m a bit too far away, but take a baby step forward. Mystery Man seems to find this amusing. I look away. He taps my foot, making me face up. He’s smiling softly. And all my anxiety just kind of, floats away.

“Left, raise your right hand up and hold it sideways, facing your right. Stay there, don’t move. Right, touch your hand to your partners.”

Cautiously, I raise my hand. Mystery Man meets me, lightly pressing our palms together. His hands are kind of rough, but I like it. Little sparks dance across my nerve endings with every scratch of his skin.

“Now everyone, take a two little skips forward, then back. Watch me.” She sort of daintily gallops forward then back again. Like a tiny heeled pony. “Now go!”

I try my best to trot forward. My black heels click on the marble floor. I stumble a bit, but Mystery Man catches me discreetly with his other hand. The second time, I do it much better. I grin at my achievement, and so does he.

“Slowly, walk in a circle with your hands still together. Try to look at your partner and not your feet.”

I look up at him. He still has that beautiful happy expression. Yeah, I can definitely look at that. We walk together. I let him set the pace. Our eyes are totally locked. Everything around his face disappears. All I can see is this dragon boy I’m dancing with.

“Stop! That’s good. Face each other, and take both of each other’s hand at your sides.”

Our hands fumble a bit, but we get a good grip.

“This is the really fun part. While still holding hands, swing your arms and spin around. Like this.”

Trixie grabs Keris’ hands. They turn on the spot, throwing their arms up in a huge circle. It actually looks pretty fun.

“Now you all try it!”

I look to my partner with a grin. With a preparatory small sway, we toss our hands up into the air. I spin easily wearing these ridiculous shoes on this overly polished floor. I laugh like a little kid on the playground. When we stop, I wobble a bit (I get dizzy easily.) Mystery Man steadies me again. He’s grinning too.

“We’re at the end of the sequence now. Let’s top it off with two claps!” Trixie claps hand in rapid succession.

Mystery Man and I pull away, then the room rings with clapping. Trixie squees and jumps up and down. (She’s very easily excited.)

“Amazing everyone! I think you’ve got the jist of it. I say, let’s do this all again two more times. Three is a wonderful number.”

I look towards my new dragon masked friend. “Ready to do this again?” I say.

He shrugs. “Well, will I have to catch you again?” I open my mouth to make a retort, but he leans forward and my brain practically shuts down. All I can think about is how close his lips are to mine. “Because I gladly would.”

Words dissolve on my tongue. I’m usually able to squeeze out some fumbling semblance of speech, but now I can’t even manage that. I’m too enthralled, too stunned. to say anything. I feel like I’m falling. But I don’t want to stop.

We repeat the dance twice more. I don’t stumble as much as I did the first time. We move gracefully in time with the music. Every touch of our hands feels like magic. I’m enjoying myself more than I have in months. And I get what I want. I keep falling, more and more with each step.

The dance ends. We all bow one last time. (I can do it perfectly now.) Everyone applauds, turning to Trixie. She curtsies politely, obviously trying to hide her embarrassed flush. She runs up to her mic.

“Nice job, you all!” she says. “It was lovely. Now, at the request of my ballroom dance loving girlfriend, she wants us to end with her favourite, the waltz. And since I can’t say no to her,” she clicks a button on her phone, “let’s finish this evening off with a waltz!”

Soft music of a different kind plays. People start spinning and swaying together. I freeze. I was mostly clueless before, but here I’m completely fucking lost. At least Trixie was shouting instructions at me. I turn to Mystery Man. He must see the concern on my face, because his lips pinch together.

“What’s wrong?” He says kindly.

“I... I have no clue how to waltz. Like, you saw me before. My friend’s right, I’m a terrible dancer. I barely keep from tripping over my own feet. And this time no one’s yelling the moves out! I-”

“Shh.” He takes his hand in mine. Worry seeps out of me with his touch. “It’s alright. You don’t have to. But, if you like,” he puts his palm against my upper back, making me inhale sharply, “I do know the dance. And I can lead.”

This evening has been incredible so far. I don’t want it to end. So I nod slowly. “Okay. Sounds good to me.”

He smiles, and lifts our joined hands until our arms are outstretched. I bring my other hand up, but I have no idea where to put it, so it falls uselessly.

“Put it on my shoulder,” he whispers. I do, holding him tightly. “Now just follow me.”

“I will,” I say softly.

He moves back, and I step with him. He’s going slowly for me. We go in a box formation. It takes a bit, but I get the hang of it. (He was right, it just takes practice.) Soon, we’re moving in perfect sync, gliding across the floor. It’s like we were on a cloud. Nothing exists outside of the two of us, our hands, our feet, everything. I’m too damn happy to care about anything else.

The song ends. Mystery Man and I slow then stop. Our eyes are fixed together. Bit by bit, our hands lower, until they fall away. All I can hear is our deep breathing.

“Thank you,” he says, “This was-”

I grab his face and kiss him.

In hindsight, this was a poor decision. We just met, my girlfriend broke up with me only two weeks ago, and we’re wearing bloody masks, which knock together awkwardly. But I don’t care. I don’t care that we barely touch, resulting in just a shy brush of lips. It’s all I want to do in this moment. But he’s just frozen. Maybe I read the signals wrong (I do that a lot). So I pull back slightly

That’s when he grabs my collar and collides with me. Our mouths smash together. He’s unbelievably warm. I feel like every part of my body is burning with sensation. I grab his neck, running my thumbs over his skin. We angle until the masks are barely in the way. He kisses me furiously, like he's desperate. His tongue runs against mine, and I nearly fall over with the buckle in my knees. This man’s grip is the only thing keeping me up. I’m falling harder than I ever have before. I’m falling with him, and I couldn't be happier.

He pulls away slightly, our mouths still close.

“Simon,” he sighs under his ragged breath, and my heart beats manically. I kiss him again, and again, and aga-

Wait.

I pull back. He tries to chase after my mouth, but I softly press on his chest to keep him away.

“How..." I pant, "how do you know my name?”

He freezes. His eyes are filled with absolute terror. I’ve never seen anyone so scared. He shoves me away with enough force to make me stumble. With one last scared look, he dashes off.

“Hey wait!” I yell.

Mystery Man must be on the fucking track team, because he’s bloody Usain Bolt. I chase after him but I’m not in the best shape (the price for my love of scones.) He bursts through the double doors. When I get there, he’s already hailed down a cab. I watch it drive off while breathing heavily.

“Shit,” I huff. “Did I just get fucking Cinderella’d?!”

“Hey, Simon!” I turn to see Trixie come out of the doors. She’s frowning terribly. “Did your date just run off with a costume? That’s very rude. Next time you see him, tell him to bring it back.”

I stand up and cross my arms. “He wasn’t my date. Well, he was. But I just met him though. I have no idea who the fuck that is.”

And I’m not sure I ever will.

I get back to the dorms around 11. Getting out of that damn costume was surprisingly harder than getting in it. I stumble in, kicking my shoes against the wall. A groan sounds from the bed opposite mine. There’s a Baz shaped lump of multiple blankets on the bed opposite mine. Well, after such a dreamy night, I guess I need a dose of reality. And Baz is certainly that.

I strip down to my boxers and flop on my mattress. It squeaks under me. As I drift to sleep, I ghost a finger over my lips, still tingling with the memory of that man. And when I dream, it’s us dancing on a cloud.

The morning light wakes me up, which I don’t appreciate. I’m groggy, tired, and bloody annoyed. I had the most amazing evening with the most amazing man, and I don’t even know his name. Yet he knew mine! Is he a distant admirer? Some sort of stalker? Do I have class with him? Is he going to show up at my door and kiss me stupid again? Because I would really, really like that.

I groan and kick off the sheet. My bleary eyes rest on the other bed. For once, Baz isn’t gone. He’s sitting there against the headboard, balancing a textbook on his knees. But he’s obviously looking at me. Until I notice, that is.

“What is it, Baz?” I growl.

He opens his mouth like he’s ready to speak. But quickly closes it instead and buries his face in the textbook.

“Nothing, Snow,” his muffled, prickly voice says from behind the paper.

“Whatever. Prick.”

I stumble and crash my way through the dorm room. My head’s still not right. I don’t think I slept that much. I just want to go take a shower and curl up in my fluffy TARDIS robe. I reach to open my closet.

“Wait, Snow don’t!” Baz shouts. But it’s too late.

I open the door. I blink the sleep out of my eyes. This isn’t my closet. Mine is a mess of haphazardly stuffed dirty clothes. This one is filled with folded t-shirts, jeans, and grey hoodies.

Along with a crimson baroque costume and dragon masquerade mask, hanging in the back.

I’m not sure how long I stand there. Just, staring at it. My thoughts are like a car wreck of confusion. Slowly, I process what this means. Why this costume is hanging in Baz’s closet. I pivot on my feet. Baz is leaning forward on his bed, textbook tossed to the side. I recognise that look of terror. That fear in his grey eyes.

His gorgeous grey eyes.

“Baz...” I say softly. “You... you were Mystery Man?”

Baz pulls back to the wall, curling his hands into his chest. He nods rapidly. “Yeah.”

I run a hand through my hair, chewing the nails on my other. I think my brain is exploding. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” I mutter. “Why? Why did you dance with me? Why didn't you tell me it was you? Why did you bloody kiss me?!”

Baz leans his chin on his fists behind his knees. “I’m sorry,” he moans. “I-I just went there because Niall asked me to. But then you were there, in that beautiful fucking costume, and I finally got the confidence to attempt an actual conversation. I thought you would recognise me but you didn't. And I realised you’d freak out if you knew it was me, because you hate me. So I just, played along! It was so much fun, dancing with you. Then... you fucking kissed me and I was in heaven. But I-I didn’t mean for it to go that far, I’m sorry!” He moans again and pushes his face into his sleeve covered hands.

I always thought Baz was just a dick who never wanted to talk to me because I was dumber than him. Like he didn't know how to interact with a lower life form. But looking at him now, bright red and fumbling, I see that he's not some cold asshole. He's just... a boy.

I take cautious steps towards him. Slowly, I sit on the end of the bed. “For how long, though? Have you liked me?”

He doesn't speak for a bit, and when he does, it's through his hoodie. “Almost since we met.” He burrows deeper into the grey fabric. “But I've been too scared! You make me so nervous. That’s why I can’t even bloody talk to you properly! That’s not your fault though, it’s mine, I know. And last night, with you not knowing it was me, I could pretend I hadn’t already ruin everything. That you actually could like me back!” He hunches even further down, wrapping his arms around his shins and hiding in his jeans.

“That’s why you insult me all the time? And avoid me?” I say softly. “All because you have a crush on me?”

He nods rapidly. “I’m not good with, feelings and stuff. Asshole is my default. Especially when I’m scared. I’m so sorry.”

I’ve met two Baz Pitches so far. One is a quiet asshole who throws insults every time he speaks. The second is calm, confident, and beyond charming. This third one in front of me, is an incredibly anxious man who cannot process his feelings properly. But, I think all those Bazes are parts of a fundamentally good person.

I place a hand on his knee. He tenses at the touch. “You know,” I say, “there’s one thing that’s really been bugging me.” Baz inhales sharply. “Where on Earth did you learn to waltz so well?”

The tension releases from him. Baz shifts slightly out of his hunch. Just a titch, letting his eyes show. “My dad sent me to lessons when I was 17. He thought it’d help me get girls, since I’d never had a girlfriend before. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was hopelessly queer.”

I chuckle. “Well at least they sort of paid off.”

He shrugs, bringing his head up to rest on his knees. His face is soft and kind. “I guess.”

And with that smile, he looks like Mystery Man. The charming guy who made me feel safe and happy when I was scared. Slowly, I reach out towards his face. He pulls back until he his head hits the wall.

“It’s alright,” I say softly.

He relaxes. I take off his glasses, giving me clear view of his eyes. They really do sparkle. I carefully cup his cheek. He sighs and leans into my touch. I turn a bit red myself.

“Just for future reference,” I say, “if you like someone, maybe open with ‘hi’ instead of ‘don’t put your stuff on my side of the room.’”

Baz groans deeply, knocking his forehead against his legs. “I knoooow. I just, you walked in on the first day, being absolutely goddamn gorgeous. And I knew I was totally screwed, so I guess I thought, ‘better just make him hate me so I don’t get hurt.’ Stupid, I know.”

“No, it’s not stupid.” I scoot forward. “It’s a natural reaction. We all get freaked out. I mean, with my first crush, I was so scared I threw up on her shoes.”

Baz brings his head up, eyes bugging out. “Jesus, Snow! How old were you?!”

I look down. “...13.”

He snorts, then bursts out laughing. There are tears in his eyes. I turn even brighter bright red. “Shut up, it was an accident.”

“Oh I bloody well hope so!”

He slowly calms down. Then we're just sitting there, both of my hands now on his knees, staring at each other. We're so close. It feels wonderful. Baz shifts uncomfortably though. He chews at his lip nervously.

“Simon,” he starts, “that guy from last night, I'm not always like that. I'm not always that smooth, or confident. I mean, I could try to be, if you like...’

I shake my head vigorously. “No! No, don't do that. I don't want you to force yourself to be that all the time. Or hide who you are either. You should just, be yourself.”

Baz looks at me wide eyed. I'm not really sure what his emotion is. Wonder? Worry? Something in between? “But, do you actually know me?”

I shrug. “Not really, I guess. I've met different sides of you. But,” I reach down to his hoodie sleeves and grab his amazingly rough hands, bringing them up between us, “I'd like to get to know you. All of you. Not just the sides.”

He lets out the breath he'd been holding in and leans his forehead onto our joined knuckles. “I'm such an idiot. If only I'd tried this ages ago.”

“Pff! What, hiding your identity at a masquerade ball, impressing me with your dancing skills, and running away like Cinderella after snogging me senseless?!”

Baz looks up, rolling his eyes. “No, you idiot. Just talking to you like a normal person. Instead of hiding and spitting vitriol. I fucked it all up.”

I sigh and lean my cheek on our hands. “Oh don't take all the blame, love. I could've been nicer too. I'm pretty sure my first words to you were 'fuck off, you asshole prick’. Not exactly diplomatic, hm?” I raise an eyebrow, making him smile.

“No. I guess we both got off on the wrong foot.”

Suddenly, I get an idea. I pull away from him and stand up. “Get up.” Baz stares at me confused. “Don't just look at me, stand up!”.

Baz shrugs and gets to his feet. He stands at his full height. (Which is good, but it sort of sucks that he's taller than me.) I stick out my hand to him.

“Hi, I'm Simon. We’re roommates. Nice to meet you.” Baz stares at me very confused. I wiggle my fingers for emphasis. “C’mon, Baz, let's start off on the right foot now.”

He blinks a couple times, then smirks. He takes my hand. There's that sparky rough palm feeling again. I love it. “Hello Simon, I'm Baz. I think you're really cute. Want to go get coffee?”

I give him one firm shake. “I'd love to. But,” I gingerly pull my hand away, “let me put on some trousers first?”

Baz laughs heartily at that. (He has a really nice laugh.) I throw on some trackies and a Watford shirt. Baz tosses me my sandals, and we're both (mostly) properly dressed for the world. I take his hand and weave our fingers together.

“C'mon, Mystery Man, “ I say. “Let's have a proper date.”

He squeezes me lightly. “Sounds delightful, Moon Boy.”

I start walking, and he follows. “You are not allowed to call me that!”

“Oh so you’re making the rules now? This relationship is off to a rocky start already.”

I open our door, turning to him with a sarcastically bewildered look. “Relationship? Aren't you presumptuous. We're just having coffee."

Baz closes it behind us with a kick. “Well, with the huge exception of last night, I only snog people I'm dating. So I guess no more wonderful kisses for you.”

“Cruel bastard,” I say with a glare.

He glares back. “Whiny brat.” 

I'd usually be offended, but there's no bite to his voice. Only playful caring. We stroll down the hall, hands clasped. I don't plan on loosening my grip, and neither does he.

I let my Mystery Man go once. Never again.

AN: And there we go! So pretty much Baz was more awkward but still an asshole. Just a different way of him not coping with his emotions lol. I really enjoyed writing this. Simon being an oblivious little shit is so much fun. Also I love fancy dancing and masks. Overall, this was great.

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