#but I just now woke up to him muttering and getting pissy

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Lady Days

A/N: Listen... WE ALL NEED A GOOD PERIOD STORY, OKAY? So I wrote one because all of us know those MCR boys would be the most respectful mfers on the planet when it comes to periods. Pairing: Gerard x F!Reader (and a tad bit of MCR x F1Reader) Word count: 2,264 words Warnings: Swearing

“Gerard,” Frank came rushing out of the bus, both out of breath and frantically searching.

“Hm?” The black hair man asked, holding a tray full of coffees as his eyes turned to the other man under his sunglasses.

“There’s something really wrong with Y/N.” Frank explained, flailing his hands all over the place like a madman.

“Huh?” Gerard asked again, his face growing a bit more serious, pushing his glasses up his face to fit on the top of his head.

“She’s all,” Frank sighed, trying to formulate the correct word, “Pissy, but in like a really mean tiger kinda way?” “What happened?” Gerard sighed, making his way to the bus doors before Frank stopped him.

“She woke up all groggy, went to the bathroom, and came out absolutely pissed. I’ve never seen her that bad. Like a teenager, but worse.” Gerard’s eyebrows rose and he only needed one answer to confirm his suspicion.

“Was she throwing insults?” Frank nodded.

“Everyone got a taste of it.” Gerard sighed with a long huff.

“Fuck,” He muttered handing Frank the coffee, “I’ll be right back, let Harold know we absolutely cannot leave yet.”

“Where are you going? What’s happening?” Frank asked in his flabbergasted manner.

“I’m going to get her a hibiscus tea, it helps with-” He took another grand sigh, “Frank, she’s on her period. And it was unexpected. I’m also running to the pharmacy down the street to find her some chocolate, a new heating pad, and whatever else her heart desires.” Frank nodded, it now all making sense. Sure, he of course had his fair share of period drama, especially given the fact he and Jamia had been together since forever ago, but he had never really had to witness Y/N’s numerous painful periods.

Y/N laid in her dark bunk, head staring at the wall next to her, wrapped under her blanket. Her legs shifted uncomfortably, the stupid pad she was wearing was a dreaded feeling she hated. And that was on top of the searing low abdominal cramps.

Tears began to flood her eyes from the absolute frustration she held. She had taken her pill every damn day, made sure of it. Her OBGYN promised these would work, and for five months they did. And now she was back to square one, without even skipping a day.

As she closed her eyes she felt her phone buzz, and with a huff grabbed it.

Hello, lovely. I’m running to the pharmacy, need anything? She was even too embarrassed to talk to her boyfriend of a year and a half.

She needed a lot right now. More pads, chocolate, one of those expensive ass heating pads that were also massagers... damn those were a brilliant invention. She also needed a new OBGYN, but post this episode, her ass was going to be Googling for days.

Pads, please. I’ll send you a photo of the packaging, it gets kinda confusing. Also, a heating pad, please? Thanks.

Gerard was hastily walking into the store right as his own phone buzzed. He read the message quickly. Pads and a heating pad. Got it. He nodded to himself, grabbing a basket and ready to fill it until it physically couldn’t fit anything. She must’ve been a fool thinking that was all she was getting.

He already knew what pads she needed, after countless trips to the pharmacy while she was at home in excruciating pain, he kinda had it memorized. Thankfully heating pads were in the same aisle. Scanning over them, he found just the one he knew she liked at home. It was a huge, massaging one. She adored the thing, and despite the $60 price tag, he plopped it in his basket with no hesitation.

Now onto ice cream... she had a sensitive stomach during her periods, and the last thing he wanted to endorse was a mixture of bowel and uterus cramps. It sounded like the closest thing earth could get to hell. He went with chocolate, since more advanced flavors were typically the ones to upset her stomach. Vanilla was too plain, and well, it was that time of the month.

He made another dash for the chocolate section, but shit they had gummy bears too... so he grabbed both of course. Milk and dark, those were her favorites. He finished out in the self checkout, getting everything quickly and throwing it in a bag, paying and running out.

And back to the local coffee shop. He had initially gotten her an iced coffee with a dash of almond milk, just like she liked it. But caffeine with strong flavors was not a good choice for her stomach, and tea was her favorite non-morning drink. They always kept the house stocked with countless tea bags of all kinds and flavors, but hibiscus iced was her favorite, and was good on her stomach. So he got her a large, not sure how well any other size would go over, and again, rushed out.

Finally, running up the steps on the bus, he darted in and to her bunk. Her curtain was closed, and with a deep sigh of preparation, he just peeked in. “Hey, hon.” He said with a smile and a caring tone. She rolled over lightly, her eyes full of exhaustion.

“I got you some stuff.” She nodded, groaning as she sat up, allowing him to push the curtain back. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed, handing her the bag and her tea. She happily sighed with the small smile she could force, looking back up at him.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.” She told him lightly, as she shuffled through the bag. “You got me my heating pad.” He nodded and she gasped. “Fucking hell I got lucky.” He lightly chuckled.

“If you need anything else-” “Stay.” She demanded and he nodded, “Please?” He nodded again, letting a smile crack.

She adjusted so there was enough room for him to lay next to her on the outer edge of the bunk, closing the curtain before going to be the big spoon, his hand gravitating to her lower stomach where he slowly began rubbing. She groaned.

“Is that too painful?” He asked and she shook her head.

“It’s good.” She muttered into his arm that was seated under her head.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He mentioned with a ting of legitimate sympathy in his voice.

“It’s okay.” She replied, “I’m just gonna murder my OB when we get back.” He chuckled.

“We’ll find you a new one.” He told her, “No worries, my love.”

The drive was long. She wasn’t sure who the hell secured these tour dates so far from each other but right about now she wanted to scream in their face. Despite her boyfriend being at her disposal, laying next to her in the crammed bunk, she was still just bothered by... ugh, the world.

God, she had to play tonight too! For once in her life she didn’t actually want to pick up a guitar, and if she did she wanted to play until her fingers bled of crimson blood and then smash the thing into the ground to take all of her grievances on mother nature out of her. Gerard could easily sense the tension in the muscles of hers he held.

“Relax, baby.” He cooed into her ear.

“You’re telling a woman on her period to relax,” She mumbled, “Just about as bad as telling a woman going into labor to relax.” He didn’t fight back, knowing it would just be back and forth banter that he would not win, so he gave her a kiss on her shoulder.

“It’s only 30 minutes to the venue, try and get some rest.” He insisted, and she followed.

Yet it felt like much longer than 30 minutes when she woke up, and no Gerard next to her. And none of Frank’s obnoxious talking, or Ray’s movies, or Mikey’s... well, no, Mikey was actually pretty silent. She curiously rolled out of her bunk, finding a note right on the counter.

Hey Hon, we started rehearsal. If you still don’t feel well don’t hesitate to stay back... you were black out when we got here and I didn’t want to disturb you. If you’re still not feeling well by show time, we got back up. Xo, G

She both smiled and grimaced to herself. Yes he was being sweet, but did he just assume she couldn’t play due to her period? Sexist motherfu- oh, shit. She bent over with another cramp.

But she was determined as ever, grabbing her pass and walking towards the venue, security helping to guide her to the stage. She marched on, her pride seemingly temporarily drowning out the pain that was still minorly present, as Gerard shot her a surprised look, soon followed by a smile.

Everything was alright up until showtime, she had downed the allowed daily dose of six Advil despite knowing after years of this bullshit that it definitely didn’t do anything, grabbed her guitar, and went on as she always did.

She made it through the first five songs... more like forced herself to. Gerard was obsessively looking back, dancing around her and making sure she was okay. He could easily read her like a wide open book with font size 72, and his mind growing more weary every second she began to zone out more.

She was cramping... worst than ever. Her fingers still played, but her body was completely still. Her head facing down and face dead with wide eyes as she clearly went through another episode of cramps. Gerard could tell, and there was no way she could logically make it through another song.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she couldn’t either. The slashing twisting pain right below her stomach was causing her to zone out to a point where her fingers were about to lose control. She could feel her mind easing out of consciousness and into overdrive as it tried to prevent her from aggravating the cramps.

“Hon,” She was brought back briefly by a whisper in her ear. Looking up the stage was pitch black but she could still see the huge audience, Gerard’s hand on her shoulder, “You need to-” “I can’t do this.” She admitted looking up at him with a pained face. He looked down at her, and despite the darkness of the stage, she could see his tight smile and nod. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before she ran off before another cramp started, her backup stepping in promptly with his guitar and leaving their manager to walk her back to the bus.

She was beyond disappointed in herself. She never wanted her stupid period and the absurdly painful cramps to define her and her ability to do something, yet they did. She probably looked like a fool out there, zoned out with nothing but her fingers moving, but oh well. At least she tried.

She hopped right back into her bunk, closing the blinds as she gazed at the wall that was oddly close to her face in embarrassment. She hated being a woman sometimes, and now was definitely one of them. But she also knew functioning like a normal human being was nearly impossible given her level of pain. She wrapped herself under her duvet and throw blanket, quickly falling right back into sleep after the exhaustion of only a few songs.

The sound of muffled voices woke her some time later. It was already pretty late at night, so she figured getting up was probably not a bad idea to put herself back to sleep later and to say goodnight to everyone else.

As she arose from her bunk, looking trashy as ever, she noticed everyone in the living room looking and smiling at her, their faces loopy as her eyes slowly readjusted to the lighting. “Hey hon,” She heard Gerard as she yawned, looking over to where he now stood.

“Hey.” She mumbled as he walked over to give her a hug.

“You doing alright?” He mumble whispered into her hair and she nodded.

“Mhm.” She hummed back as his warmth engulfed her.

“Good,” He smiled, pulling away, “We, uh, we brought you food.” He beamed as Frank pointed to a covered plate on the counter.

“Aw, thanks guys.” She warmly smiled, walking over to uncover whatever goodness was under it.

“They had chicken tenders, figured that would be a safe option. And fries of course, and extra ranch, I remembered that.” Gerard began, “Also, uh, Diet Coke? That usually helps your stomach, right? And- oh yeah! They had brownies! Chocolate helps with all that right? Or is that just a myth, I’m not sure-” Before he could even finish she had jumped on him, wrapping him in a hug.

“Best. Boyfriend. Ever.” She smiled as he rubbed her back, smiling back.

“It’s really no problem, truly.” He told her, “I’m just so sorry you hurt so much.” She sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” She responded.

“Hey, and uh, don’t beat yourself up about tonight.” Ray chimed in as she looked over Gerard’s shoulder to see him lightly smiling. “Really, we’ve all had bad, painful days. And while none of us can really, ya know, empathize totally-” “We can sympathize enough.” Mikey finished as she sweetly smiled at all of them, on the verge of tears.

“You guys are gonna make me fucking cry!” She exclaimed as they all chuckled, “How did I get so lucky?”

[numetalchemists]

here's a little angsty fluffy kind of Michael Myers/Reader oneshot I wrote that I'm deciding to post here since I think it's alright at the very least! 😸 this is written specifically about the original 1978 Michael, but feel free to insert whichever one you'd like as it's not too heavily enforced!

Warnings: general angst, Mikey's past abuse is mentioned briefly, talk of self-esteem issues

Loved, Despite Everything

I woke up earlier that morning than I had intended, sitting up and leaning over to give my boyfriend a gentle peck on the cheek before leaving the bedroom to take advantage of the earlier start─though it had been unintentional─so that I could be ready for work.

I had begun working from home more recently, as my job allowed that, so that Michael didn't ever have to be stuck home alone. Because despite being an asshole occasionally, I knew that he needed me to be there for him as company, and I respected that.

It was then, this early in the morning, when little inconveniences kept consistently happening to me. Minor, yes, but irritating nonetheless.

The first was when my toothpaste plopped right off of my toothbrush and onto the squeaky-clean tile floor. Then, when I was showering, there weren't any towels to use, so I had to sneak past a snoring Michael completely nude to get something to use from our bedroom.

At this point, I was completely and utterly over it. I wished that I didn't have to go to work, but I couldn't afford to take off any days with such little reasoning. Especially since my boss had been especially pissy in the more recent days.

I was finally able to get dressed and then headed towards the kitchen to fix up a quick breakfast for myself, and saw Michael getting up and tossing the sheets off of him in a particularly vigorous fashion.

Great, I thought to myself, rolling my eyes, just what I needed right about now.

I loved Michael with all of my heart, but at times it was draining to have to put up with him, especially when I'm already in a sour mood.

I opened my cupboard, taking out a box of my favorite cereal and picking out a bowl to pour some in, and I was just taking the milk out of the fridge when I noticed Michael's heavy breathing on the back of my neck as he snuck up behind me. It seemed he hadn't bothered to put on his mask, since his breathing didn't echo in the slightest.

I set the milk down on the kitchen counter and then turned towards him, asking in the gentlest tone I could muster, "What is it, honey?"

Michael hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on my bowl of cereal. He signed, "Hungry."

I sighed deeply before saying, "Why don't you get some breakfast yourself? There are options in the kitchen."

He cocked his head at me.

"Look, Michael, I need to prepare for work today, alright? As much as I'd love to make breakfast for you, I don't have time to." I noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed sadly and I quickly added, "How about this, I can make a big lunch for you while I'm on break!"

He shook his head, doing nothing but staring at you. I closed my eyes and counted to ten in my mind to avoid doing anything rash, and then turned, pouring my milk into my bowl of cereal, but Michael caught me by my wrist before I could walk off to eat alone.

"Michael," I muttered, and his lips tightened into a thin line. "Michael, I really don't have time for this."

I snuck out of his grasp and stepped away, but he grabbed me again, and I couldn't help it.

I smacked him right across the face with a loud slapping noise. He instinctively flinched away for a split second when the contact was made, and my heart practically shattered in two right there.

I couldn't stand the guilt that burnt deep into my heart, so I quickly picked up my bowl of cereal and hurried off into my office, shutting and locking the door behind me.

• - • - •

I felt bad about that morning all day, but I couldn't muster up the courage to confront my boyfriend about it. So I ended up avoiding him.

There were times throughout the day where I had to leave the room to go to the restroom or get something from another area of the house, and I ran into him every once and a while. He looked right at me with his pretty blue eyes of his every time, tracking me with his eyes, hoping I would say something to him. Anything.

Michael knew well that he wasn't a good person, but he tried to be. He'd been trying his best since the two of you first started the relationship, but it seemed to him that it still wasn't good enough.

Even after everything, it still wasn't good enough.

He still wasn't good enough.

And when it came down to it, he hated himself for that morning. He didn't often experience emotion so intensely, but knowing that his beloved was purposefully avoiding him made him want to crumple up into a sobbing ball on the floor.

He tried so hard to be the boyfriend that you so greatly deserved, but he'd never once loved before. Never been loved before. He had no idea where to start or what to do. But despite that, he was trying.

But little did he know, that you knew that, and you loved him despite his inexperience.

• - • - •

I ran into Michael again on my lunch break, which was unavoidable, and I was painstakingly reminded that I had promised to make him lunch this morning.

I held my breath as I walked up to him, tears threatening to leak from my eyes as I thought about what I should say to him. No, what I would say to him. I couldn't leave this problem in the air forever, after all.

I opted for studying his face as I thought, my eyes tracing his precious features as my head buzzed with all kinds of scary feelings. And scary questions.

How would he react? Does he hate me? How will I fix this? What if it can't be fixed? What if he doesn't believe that I didn't really mean it?

I was used to not being able to expect things from Michael, used to not ever knowing what he's thinking, or what he'll do next. I'd gotten somewhat used to it. Used to his unpredictability. I'd grown to like it; to consider it part of his (strange) charm.

But what I certainly didn't expect was for Michael to engulf me in a hug, one of his hands curling around my waist while the other resting on the back of my head.

My breath hitched and hot tears pried their way into my eyes, and I buried my face into his shoulder, feeling him begin to rub circles into my lower back, peppering the back of my neck with faint kisses.

I wrapped my arms around him and gripped onto the fabric of the back of his shirt, my sobbing slowing down to sniffles as he gently swayed from side to side, his chin resting on my head.

I eventually pulled away from him and caressed his cheek where I had hit him earlier, kissing it and running my hands through his thick curls.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have hurt you, baby." I whispered, and he shook his head, signing "My fault."

"No, it wasn't. It was my fault, really, I was just... I was pissed off and I─I took it out on you. And I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry, baby." I said, and he lifted his hands to sign back, but I gently took them in my own hands before he could, and pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips, rubbing circles into his palms.

"I love you, Michael. I really do." I smiled at him, and he wiped stray tears from my face before signing, "Love you too."

My bottom lip quivered happily, and he smiled faintly at me. I gingerly took his wrist and pulled him off towards the kitchen,

"Let's see about lunch, then, honey."

[phoebe-delia]

could u write a drarry oneshot inspired by sweet creature of harry styles? :)

Hello Nonnie! I absolutely can. This is a great suggestion, I love this song for Drarry. I hope you enjoy it. Warnings: injury, drinking, attempted sexual assault that is VERY QUICKLY STOPPED and NOT H/D!!! Thank you to @apr1cots for the beta!

3 Times Harry Brought Draco Home...+1 Time Draco Brought Harry Home

1.

The first time, Harry found him in the cafe near their flat.

He sat down in the chair across from Draco, who glared at him over his cup of tea. "I thought I told you not to follow me."

"I waited three hours. I figured that would be enough time for you to come to your senses, but you didn't come back, so I got worried."

"I can handle myself, thanks."

"I know you can. But you didn't tell me where you went."

Draco's eyes flashed. "That was for a reason, you imbecile."

Harry shook his head. "Flatmates don't do that—disappear for three hours after a fight without saying where they’ve gone."

"I'm an adult. And you're not my father or my boyfriend, so back off."

"No, but I am your friend. And your flatmate. And I don't want to be worried sick for three hours when you fuck off to Merlin knows where because you're feeling pissy!" Harry snapped, letting his anger creep into his voice.

Draco sighed. He took a moment to sip his tea, and then he looked at Harry. "I'll tell you what. If we fight, and I don't return, send an owl, Floo or contact you in some way within six hours, you can send out a bloody search party."

Harry shook his head. “I will give you three hours.”

“Five”

“Three and a half.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four is my final offer.”

Draco scoffed. “Is that so? What are you going to do, show up with half the Auror department?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Not if I don’t have to. But I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Care to find out?”

“You’re mental.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “Trouble is, I don’t care. Now, will you be here for a while, or are you coming home with me?”

“I suppose I'll go, but only since I've already finished my tea,” Draco said with another sigh, which Harry ignored as they both rose from their seats. While they walked to the Apparition point together, Harry replayed in his mind the flicker of emotion on Draco’s face when he said “home.”

2.

The second time, Harry’s glass nearly shattered in his hand from how firmly he was gripping it.

He ignored Hermione’s knowing gaze and Ron’s eye roll as he unabashedly stared daggers at the bloke practically groping Draco at the bar. Harry saw Draco’s eyes widen imperceptibly, noticed his smile falter and his cheekbone twitch.

Yes, he observed this from across the room. You get to know a bloke after living with him for almost a year; besides, Harry was very perceptive—constant vigilance and all that.

Speaking of being an Auror, Harry was pretty sure this prick was breaking some sort of public indecency laws by the way he was sliding his hand further and further up Draco’s leg. Draco gently pried the man’s hand from his thigh, only for the stranger to laugh and reach over again, gripping it even more firmly.

Harry didn’t think beyond getting up from his seat and striding toward the bar, quickening his pace when he saw Draco’s eyes widen in panic. He barely registered the look of horror on the stranger’s face when he grabbed the hand gripping Draco’s thigh and pinned the man face-down on the bar.

“He said no,” Harry said through clenched teeth, ignoring the man’s grunts and protests.

“We were just talking!” The man sputtered, his cheek pressed against the counter as he twisted and wriggled to get free.

Harry tightened his grip. “Conversation’s over. If I catch you trying to ‘talk’ to him again, I’ll make sure you have a nice chat with the Wizengamot about sexual assault. Now, apologize.”

“But—”

“Apologize!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

Harry smirked. “Good.” He released the man’s arm and let him right himself. The man froze, looking between Harry and Draco expectantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Leave. Now.”

The man nodded, scurrying out of the now silent bar, the bell attached to the door tinkling behind him.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Draco’s face was blank other than a raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But I am glad you’re okay. You are, right? He didn’t hurt you?” Harry’s chest tightened at the suggestion.

But Draco shook his head. “No, I’m fine. But I think that’s my sign to head home.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine to Floo.”

“I want to.”

“What about your friends?”

Harry cringed and turned back to face the table to see Ron and Hermione looking at him, expressions full of nausea and amusement, respectively. He held up a hand in a small wave. Hermione shook her head and smiled fondly.

Harry grinned and turned back to Draco. “They’ll be alright without me. C’mon, let’s go home. I’ll make us some tea, yeah?”

Draco hesitated at first, but he nodded. And if Harry let his hand linger lightly on Draco’s back when they headed toward the Floo, they could both chalk it up to a safety measure.

3.

The door to Pansy Parkinson’s flat swung open before Harry could knock.

She took one look at him and rolled her eyes. “Could you have taken any longer to get here?”

Harry bristled. “I was—”

“Don’t care. Get in here, he’s on my couch.” She turned and walked away purposefully, and Harry trailed behind her.

“I thought you two were just going for drinks?”

Pansy sighed. “We were, but then we came back here for a few more, and he got into my tequila when my back was turned.” She shook her head. “Tequila is his one weakness—well,” she smirked. “One of them, anyway.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to respond when a shout sounded from the living room.

He looked over to see Draco sprawled across the couch, an empty glass in one hand and the other nearly touching the floor, his leather-clad legs spread wide.

Draco grinned at Harry. “Harrryyy!!! Come to join the party?”

“He’s come to end it, more like,” Pansy crossed her arms. “It’s time for you to go home, love.”

Draco let out a high, keening whine and burrowed himself further into the couch. “Don’ wanna. Tired. Stay here.”

“No, Draco, we’ve got to go home,” Harry walked up to the couch. His breath caught when gray eyes blinked wide and pleadingly up at him.

Draco held out his arms. “Up.”

“Er, what?”

Draco jerked his arms up and down, keeping them in the air. “Up! Help me up, you great oaf!”

Harry sighed and bent down, taking Draco in his arms and nearly stumbling when the blond let his body weight fall into him.

Draco smirked lazily. “Oops,” he said with a grin in his voice. “Guess you gotta carry me.”

Harry scoffed, looking to Pansy for appeal.

She waved a hand dismissively. “He’s your problem, now. Just get him out of my flat and back home intact, will you?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, walking away into another room.

Harry sighed. He wasn’t sure about the safety of Apparating or taking the Floo with someone in your arms, and the twists and turns of the Knight Bus could make a sober person sick up. With a grunt, he hoisted Draco up and into his arms bridal style, and the other man yelped and then giggled wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Home,” Draco said softly, and affection spread through Harry’s chest.

“Okay, Draco,” Harry whispered as they made their way out of the flat. “I’ve got you.”

+1.

Harry woke to the sound of muffled voices shouting at each other and the constant beep of a monitor.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing as a sharp pain exploded in his side with the effort. Memories came rushing back: the raid, turning his back for a split second to shout something at Ron, blinding pain, then darkness. He tried to sit up in the hospital bed, but he let himself lie back down when his side throbbed once more.

Suddenly, the door was opened and then promptly slammed shut. “Honestly, the nerve of these people. If he needs bed rest, then where is better than his own bed? Is my Healer degree rendered meaningless the moment I’m off the clock?” Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the room angrily.

“Draco?”

Draco jumped and turned to Harry with wild, startled eyes that made Harry laugh, and then wince in pain.

“You’re awake, thank Merlin,” Draco approached the side of the bed, relief replacing the shock on his face.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days. You were hit with a rare curse that caused an ever-bleeding wound in your side, and the healers had to put you in a magically induced coma to reverse it.”

“That sounds good. Do Robards and—”

“Yes, Ron gave Robards the full briefing. You’re not expected in the office until a Healer permits it.”

“So, can I go home?”

“Yes, now that you’re awake, you can go home. I’ll monitor you from there.”

Harry frowned. “You don’t have to.”

Draco let out a short, humorless chuckle. “You were in a coma for two days, Harry. The only reason they’re discharging you is that you’re going home with a Healer.”

“But you don’t actually have to stay and watch me all day, right?”

“What part of ‘I’ll monitor you from there’ don’t you understand?”

“But I’m fi-!” The last word was cut off as Harry hissed through another spark of pain.

“Fine, are you?”

“Shut up.”

Draco smirked. “Not likely.”

Harry scowled, eliciting a real laugh from Draco, who moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Flatmates don’t do this, y’know.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Take several days off of work to care for the other when they’re injured. I’m not even sure friends do that.”

Harry noticed Draco’s jaw tighten. He ached to reach up and relax it with a gentle touch, but he kept his hand at his side.

“What are you saying, Harry?” Draco asked, his voice low and even.

“I’ll tell you what,” Harry swallowed. “I won’t argue about you wasting days away from work if you let me take you to dinner when I’ve recovered.”

The beginning of a smile curved Draco’s lips. “And what will we do in the meantime?”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

Draco chuckled. “If you think I’m missing work just so you wind up back in here because you restarted bleeding during sex, you’ve another thing coming.”

Harry pouted halfheartedly. “Apparently I won’t be coming at all.”

Draco mimicked his petulant frown. “Aww, ickle Harry, being waited on for days by his flatmate-turned-boyfriend.”

“I’ll tell you what—”

“Didn’t we already make a deal?”

“I’ll tell you what: I won’t argue about you missing work or not having sex until I’m recovered if you let me take you to dinner once I’m healed and if we can snog as much as we like.”

"What makes you think I’ll agree to those terms?”

Harry shrugged. “If you don’t like those terms, I can come up with more. Now that I’m on bed rest, I’ve got plenty of time to think.”

“You’re not supposed to strain yourself,” Draco smirked when Harry glared at him.

Harry huffed. “You need to work on your bedside manner, Healer Malfoy.”

“I’ll get plenty of practice this week, then, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will. Now, can we get out of here? I want to start my healing regimen right away.”

Draco laughed and laced their fingers together. “Alright, Harry. Let’s go home.”

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[karlsjackbox]

the end. | irl!quackity x gn!reader

A VIEW OF two people falling out of love.

type: angst

warnings: taking pills (brief, not much context), swearing, fight, death threat

w/c: 1.6k

quackity pushed his hair out of his face, fingers placing themselves in a rhythm on the keyboard. music played through his headphones, placed on the second to last volume to help soothe his aching headache. eyes traveling to the corner of the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it being 4:57am. rubbing his eyes, he leaned back and let out a sigh. saving the document he was writing on, quackity shut off the monitor and shuffled his feet.

the door across the room opened. snapping his eyes forward, quackity was met with his s/o holding their cat, tired smile adorning their face. quackity mirrored the smile, pushing himself off of the chair and standing beside his love. “you’re awake late.” he muttered, though his words slurred together. y/n looked at him with a lopsided grin, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “couldn’t sleep without you.” quackity gasped, using his hands to cover tiger’s eyes.

the paired laughed, dragging themselves to the bedroom.

it had been a few weeks. y/n’s eyes forced themselves open, bed empty beside them. quackity was laughing down the hallway, having to ignored the text from y/n asking him to tone down just a little. rubbing their eyes, y/n sat up and tapped on their phone. 4:23 am. muttering a curse to themself, they laid back down. shutting their eyes, y/n eventually fell asleep to the sound of their boyfriends muffled laughter and curses.

quackity ended the stream near 5am. he leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his face as the discord call eventually dropped. grabbing his phone, he check notifications and read the text from y/n with a frown. he texted a quick sorry ! just saw this :( coming to bed now <3. with no text back, he pushed himself off of the chair and shuffled his way to the bedroom. tiger rubbed against his leg, the mexican biting a smile back. y/n laid curled up, body facing the wall as they snored quietly. 

quackity shuffled out of his day clothes, sliding into pajamas as he laid beside y/n and fell asleep.

y/n danced around the kitchen, music playing quietly through their phone as they made their breakfast. they hummed along, carefully pouring their cereal into their bowl. scratching their chin, they turned at the noise of somebody behind them. quackity stood in the doorway, hair messed up from sleep. “hi, my love.” y/n greeted.

taking a minute to answer, quackity shut off his phone and sighed. “good morning.” he sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes. “whats up?” y/n asked, pouring their milk and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. they sat across from quackity, who had picked up his phone as it buzzed. 

“tommy wants me to record today and george wants me on his stream. i’m trying to make them both work and i just don’t know if i can.” quackity explained, using his hand for more emphasize. y/n swallowed the cereal before answering, crossing their legs at the ankle. “i think you need a day off.” they huffed, eyes rolling. “i wish.” quackity responded, standing to make his own cereal.

“i’m serious. we haven’t spent time together in forever.” y/n shrugged, getting no response. “i can try for soon, but definitely not today.” quackity kissed y/n’s temple before he sat across from them again.

quackity didn’t talk to y/n until the next afternoon.

y/n sat on the couch, holding a mug of hot cocoa. their legs were crossed, eye trained to the television screen as rapunzel played. they hummed along to the songs, turning at the sound of footsteps. quackity held his phone to his ear, laughing at something somebody said.

y/n smiled at him and gave a short wave, quackity repeating the wave and making his way into the kitchen. the refrigerator door opened and closed, y/n turning their head and resuming the movie. 

quackity took out the strawberry container from the fridge and made his way into the living room, standing at the doorway as he listened to karl talk. eventually he tossed the container away, finishing the strawberries and going back upstairs to his recording room.

by the time the movie finished, the sun was barely kissing the horizon. turning spotify on through the tv, music started to play through the playlist, ‘y/n & quackity!!’. y/n smiled at the memory of them sitting together and making the playlist on their second date.

making their way into the kitchen, y/n opened the cabinet and pulled out the pasta noodles. pulling out a pot and filling it with water, they began to boil it and dump in the noodles. their phone gave a simple ding! and another notification came through.

alex<3: can u plz turn music down? streaming soon x

y/n frowned, though gave a simple thumbs up. they tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl and left it to drip, entering the living room and shutting of the tv in a whole. tiger sat on the couch, head peeking up with a quiet ‘mrrp?’ as the noise suddenly ended. cooing, y/n walked over and scooped him up, cradling him as they made their way into the kitchen again to stir the pasta.

setting tiger down on the floor after 15 minutes, y/n scooped the pasta into two seperate bowls and ran butter through them. deciding against sauce, y/n placed the bowls on the table and texted quackity.

you: made pasta !! <3

the food was still untouched by the next morning.

it had been a while since then. y/n woke up before quackity. they were faced with his back, black sweatshirt hugging his body. they sat up slowly, sun fading through the curtains and hitting the blanket. they shivered a little, blinking hard a few times to try and wake themselves up. after a few more moments, they pulled their legs out from underneath the blanket and carefully moved away from quackity and out of the room.

quackity woke up an hour or so later, groaning softly as the sun had now positioned itself to hit his eyes directly. he sat up, head turning to look at y/n. frowning as nobody was there, he picked up his phone and drug himself out of the room. the house was empty as he searched around for his s/o, frown adorning his face.

standing in front of the fridge, a sticky note hung to it.

quackity ripped off the sticky note, crumbling it in his pocket as he opened the fridge to search for his breakfast.

y/n returned home that night to the noise of muffled swears and laughter, though y/n wore mainly a frown. their bones ached and a headache roared. sighing, they dropped their bag and kicked off their shoes and made their way into the bathroom. they opened the medicine cabinet and took out tylenol, swallowing the pill with sink water in their mouth.

rubbing their nose, y/n made their way upstairs to their bedroom. they grabbed clean clothes and made their way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water run until it was hot. they stripped and dropped their clothes onto the floor, pushing them into the corner before stepping into the shower. y/n couldn’t help the sigh that escaped their mouth as everything from the day washed away, lathering their hair with shampoo and conditioner.

quackity ended the stream around the same time that y/n stepped out of the shower. he sat at his desk for a moment longer, chatter with his friends slowly dying down. “hey guys, i’m gonna head off now.” after a wave of goodbyes, he left the discord call and stood up.

quackity made his way into the bedroom, y/n sat on the edge of the bed. sliding off his beanie, quackity ruffled his hair and let himself fall beside his s/o. they didn’t talk, y/n texting somebody before shutting off their phone. they let out a sigh and rubbed their face, tossing their phone beside them.

curling up, y/n and quackity fell asleep facing each other for the last time.

they woke up at the same time. y/n sat up and rubbed their eyes, yawn falling from their mouth. there was a tension in the room quackity couldn’t figure out. “hey, wanna watch a movie?” y/n asked, scratching their nose as they met eyes with their sleepy boyfriend. “mm.. i can’t. i have homework and i have to be on a stream,” quackity slurred, missing how y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. tsking, y/n stood. “right.”

quackity’s head shot up at their tone. “what do you mean?” he questioned, choosing to stay silent on their eye roll. “you haven’t spent time with me in ages. i’m shocked i even fell asleep with you beside me.” the younger shrugged, opening their closet to pull out a sweatshirt.

“yeah, because its my job? the fuck do you mean?” quackity sat up, leaning his weight on his hands. “okay? you can still make time for me. i’m not just somebody who feeds you, alex.” y/n turned to meet his eyes, hands resting on their hips. “i can handle myself, you know.” quackity rolled his eyes.

“i wanna see you fucking try.”  y/n looked the older up and down. “you just mooch off of me anyway. if you’re so pissy about me working then leave.” quackity seethed, anger radiating off of me. he froze as the words fell out of his mouth, y/n’s hands dropping. “i hope you fucking starve. waste of space.” y/n cursed, turning and grabbing their bag from the closet.

“y/n, i didn’t-- we didn’t mean that.” quackity apologized, stepping towards the younger. y/n stayed silent, shoving random clothes into their backpack. quackity didn’t try to fight them, standing and watching them pack with tears brimming his eyes.

“..is it the end for us?” it was silent. the silence pushed against quackity’s skull, taunting him in a way he would remember forever. y/n turned, face blank as their eyes were puffy.

“it was the end a long time ago.”

[shimmeringclouds]

Ichimatsu - Distant Future

𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦!𝘈𝘜 - 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴

"Tch. You just had to show up, didn't you."

It came out more of a statement than a question, emphasised with a hot glare that Ichimatsu shot your way. You sat down heavily beside him on the bench, keeping your distance.

"Shut up. I really don't want to deal with your pissy attitude right now..." You muttered. Mumbling your order to Chibita, you leaned a hand against your forehead, rubbing your temple with a grimace.

"Then why are you here? Go back home or something," Ichimatsu retorted, raising a brow.

"Just shut. Up."

Chibita remained silent, hesitantly placing a bowl of Udon in front of you as he glanced quickly between you both. He prayed that you both wouldn't start fighting and tear his stand to bits.

"... Rough day?" Ichimatsu surprised himself, a rare occurrence for the fourth eldest Matsuno. His breath caught in his throat as he mentally yelled at himself. Why did he care? Why should he care? You both hated each other. Why did he suddenly feel so... sympathetic? He visibly cringed at the word.

You didn't reply for a while, occupying yourself by chewing away at your warm dinner. You sighed again.

"If you had a job as a receptionist in the only hospital in Akatsuka, you would know that it's more than 'rough'..." you rubbed a hand down your face, feeling your skin warm up from the friction.

Ichimatsu hummed, silently fiddling with his chopsticks. An awkward silence hung over the stand. Taking a deep breath, he knew he was going to regret this.

"...Do you... wanna... talk about it...?"

The reluctance in his voice was visible. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, the corners of your lips twitching slightly.

"Am I actually talking to Matsuno Ichimatsu? Or is this one of your brothers in disguise?"

"Shut up." was his only answer, facing away from you entirely. You chuckled, although you were confused. This was... different. Usually, you both would've started arguing by now yet, here you were, opening your mouth to spill your troubles onto the table for the one person you hated most.

Was that a good or bad thing? Nobody would know the answer in that moment. Not even Chibita, who had taken refuge under his stand, sweating profusely at the sudden turn of events.

"... Soulmates." You started. Ichimatsu winced, slouching further in his seat. "It's hard not to think about that sort of stuff when I have to see them everywhere at work... And considering my own situation with it, I just..."

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Should you say it? Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe you should stop.

"It just hurts, y'know?"

'Stop..!'

"Knowing that I'll never find anyone to care for me like everyone else..."

'That's enough!'

"I'll never know what it's like to love someone, romantically, or to have them love me back..."

The silence was different this time. Heavy, full of melancholy, full of heartache. Even so, you continued with a hollow smile stretched forcefully across your cheeks.

"But I guess that's how life works. Some get it lucky, and some... don't."

You didn't want to look over at him, knowing that his heavy lidded eyes were staring at you, burning holes into your skin. You couldn't tell what he was thinking. You didn't know why you said all that, to Ichimatsu of all people. However, there was no going back. You waited for the humiliation t be thrown your way.

"... I guess we're not so different, huh?"

"Wha-?"

"I still hate you, don't get me wrong," You stared in bewilderment at the back of his head, mouth wide open. "But... Life was never fair to begin with. If there was anyone who didn't deserve this kind of life with no red string, it would probably be you."

"...Ichima-"

"Put this on my tab, Chibita. I'm outta here..."

He swiftly stood up from his seat, pulling his hood tightly over his head before practically running away from you into the dark streets. Leaving you (and Chibita) dumbfounded.

You wouldn't be seeing him until two days later, when you woke up from your slumber with a scream.

You had rushed to get dressed, an ugly scowl permanently resting on your features, scaring people away from you as you ran frantically through the streets of Akatsuka, stopping heavily in your tracks the moment you spotted purple in an alleyway.

"You bastard!" You yelled, not caring about the cats scampering past you. Ichimatsu stood silently, his dark aura multiplying ten fold.

"I could say the same to you," he muttered.

"What the fuck did you do?" You stalked towards him, raising your hand in front of his face. "How did you do this?"

The red string of fate dangled with a faint glow in front of Ichimatsu's eyes, tied neatly around your pinkie finger. He didn't respond, although his own suspicions were confirmed.

"Why you?" you whispered, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

"Why you, of all people...!" you grabbed fistfuls of his hoodie, leaning into him with a shaky sob.

"I don't... understand... I-I've been horrible to you.." you were bawling now, sinking to your knees, dragging the wide-eyed man down with you.

"I don't deserve any of this...! I should've just stayed alone for the rest of my life!"

You continued to mumble despair into his shoulder, your body racked with sobs and heavy breaths. Neither of you knew how long you had sat there on the dirty alleyway floor. Neither of you knew when Ichimatsu began rubbing your back, holding you closer.

Eventually, your cries died down to sniffles and hiccups, but you didn't want to move away just yet. You just wanted to stay there, not wanting to think about what kind of future that awaited the both of you.

»»-----　♔　-----««

"Ichimatsu? Are you okay?"

He blinked, turning towards you.

"Were you thinking about something?"

"...Yeah." He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist, nuzzling his face into the top of your head. You giggled, leaning into him.

"Oh yeah? What was it?" You linked your fingers with his, bringing them up so plant soft kisses across his knuckles. Ichimatsu locked onto the red string connecting you both together, watching as it began to glow, beating in sync with your heartbeats.

"...We really used to hate each other, didn't we?"

[dlwritings]

Help in Three Phases | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - roommate!Tom x reader word count - 4,359 warnings - language, period talk, masturbation (f), use of vibrator, oral (f receiving), m/f sex A/N - idk I’m pmsing pretty bad and this is how I’m feeling so here we are

summary - Your period hits you in three phases, and after living with Tom for six months, he finally starts to catch on to what you need during each one.

You had been living with Tom for a long time, and you loved it. You got along really well and made the perfect pair of roommates. Growing up, the two of you had been best friends. When you wanted to move out of your parents’ house but couldn’t afford to live on your own yet, Tom felt it was only natural to offer up his spare bedroom. You’d only have to pay half the rent, and if you missed a month, Tom would have no difficulty covering for you.

There was only one problem that came from being so close to Tom, and that was your dating life. For years, guys wouldn’t approach you because they assumed you were with Tom. And when they found out you weren’t, they were scared away by the fact that you lived with him. It was completely infuriating. Yes, you had, from time to time, wondered what it might be like to cross that line with him, but you were just best friends, and you hated how much that hindered any option you had in the dating world. It grew especially frustrating during one specific time of the month.

You were two things when you were PMSing: irritable and clingy. Not a period cycle went by where you didn’t wish you were the weepy girl on her period. No. You were the pissy girl. You got mad at everything, and you knew you were the worst to be around. All of the problems started about three days before your period actually hit and didn’t end until three days later. So while most girls dealt with seven days of a period, you basically dealt with seven days of bleeding and six days of side effects. Thus, your period came in three phases.

Phase one.

The days before your period, you had cravings and mood swings. The first day you felt it coming this time around, you and Tom had just finished dinner, and you were eagerly anticipating digging into your ice cream that was waiting for you in the freezer. Only it wasn’t there. You felt your jaw and your fists clench in anger. “Thomas,” you started, “where’s my ice cream?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed from where he was loading the dishwasher.

“Where’s my ice cream?” you repeated, turning on your heel to face him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You finished it two days ago,” he said.

“No I fucking did not,” you said. “I was specifically saving it for today.”

“Right,” Tom said slowly, “but then two nights ago, you got drunk and said to me, I was going to save this, but I’m gonna eat it now because -and I quote- fuck self control.”

“And you let me?” you snapped.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to argue with drunk (Y/N) about whether or not she should eat her ice cream.” You groaned dramatically, slammed the freezer door shut, and stormed off to your room.

The next day, you were having a saltier craving. You were sitting in bed, watching an episode of New Girl, when you suddenly started to crave nachos. You pushed yourself out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, getting a plate from the cupboard and opening a bag of tortilla chips. When you opened the fridge to get some shredded cheese, you could feel your face grow hot in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled to yourself. “This is easily the most frustrating fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“What’s going on?” Tom asked from his spot on the couch.

“We don’t have any fucking shredded cheese!” you huffed. “How do we not have shredded fucking cheese?”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckled.

“You’re going to wish Jesus Christ was here if we don’t get some shredded cheese in this house soon.”

The next day, on your way home from work, you stopped at the store to pick up some panty liners and chocolate. When you got home, you set the bag on the counter, the sound of rustling plastic peaking Tom’s interest. “What’d you get from the store?” he asked.

“Chocolate,” you said.

“Chocolate?” Tom repeated.

“For me,” you emphasized.

“Don’t you know sharing is caring?” he asked.

“Right,” you said. “Well, when you develop a uterus, consider my stash your stash.”

Phase two.

The next day, like clockwork, you woke up with an aching back, a nauseous stomach, and an immediate need to use the bathroom. This was the first part of the phase where your lack of significant other really put a damper on things. You were crabby, and all you wanted was to be held and cared for.

And after six months of living together, Tom finally started to notice your shift in mood during phase two. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you were on your period, and he wasn’t oblivious to the cranky stage that came before this one. But now, he was starting to realize just how upset you got during your period. Yes, you were still cranky, but you were also just down in the dumps. He never saw you cry, but then again, he never really saw you. You rarely left your room, but when you did, you had a permanent frown etched on your face.

Tom didn’t have any sisters, and none of his relationships had ever been serious enough that he saw a girlfriend through her periods. So, when it came to handling a girl when she was menstruating, he took advice from Harrison. After all, he had a sister. And Harrison told Tom to steer clear of you and give you space. So for that week each month, that’s what Tom did. But you were Tom’s best friend, and he loved you. Seeing you so upset and sitting back like it wasn’t happening was too difficult.

So this time around, Tom decided to change up the routine. You hadn’t come out for your ice cream yet, so he went to the freezer, got out your unopened pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon, and made his way to your room. He knocked on the door, waited for your words of permission, and walked in. You had all the lights off and the shades drawn, so you were only illuminated by the TV screen where New Girl was playing. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Is my TV too loud?”

“No,” Tom said with a shake of his head. “No, I, uh, I brought you your ice cream.”

“Oh,” you said, surprise in your voice. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to your bed to hand it to you. “Do you want some company or anything?” Your eyebrows raised.

“Seriously?” you asked. The tips of Tom’s ears turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bug you. I just thought-“

“No, no,” you said quickly. “I’m just surprised. You usually avoid me like the plague during this week.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I thought I was supposed to.”

“Let me guess,” you said with a grin. “Harrison?” Tom just smiled, so you patted the bed next to you, and he came to sit down, pulling the covers over his legs. You adjusted the hot pad on your back and relaxed again against the pillows. There was an awkward space between you and Tom, mostly because Tom didn’t want to overstep. It wasn’t that you guys didn’t cuddle, but he honest to god didn’t know how to approach you when you were on your period. What if he touched you and you just snapped?

But then he noticed how wiggly you were getting and opened his arms up. “Wanna cuddle?” he offered. You smiled gratefully and nodded, adjusting yourself again and cuddling up to his side.

“Sorry if my hot pad gets too warm,” you said.

“No worries,” he said, pulling you close to his side. “Whatever makes you feel better.” You nodded and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. Tom knew what kind of touches you liked best, so he moved his hand to the top of your head and started massaging your scalp and running your fingers through your hair. You hummed contently which made his heart feel warm.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you muttered. “I really needed this.”

“Of course, darling,” he whispered. “All you had to do was ask, and I’d be here.”

That was how you spent the rest of your free time during the week: cuddled up in bed with Tom watching New Girl. He made you dinner most days, and when he didn’t, it was because he ordered take out. 98-percent of you was thrilled, but then there were the other two. Being this close to Tom was fulfilling that desire you had for a significant other to be there for you, and it was messing with your head. You had been harboring a crush for Tom for as long as you had known him, but you had always been able to keep a lid on it. With him doing this for you, it was hard to stop yourself from bursting.

Phase three.

Your period was in the rear view mirror, but now came arguably the worst part. Because after your period, you were insanely horny. This time around, it was even worse. For that, you blamed Tom. And he may’ve been able to help during phase two, but no way were you going to ask him to help during phase three. No matter how badly you wanted to.

You got out of the shower and dried off, settling into clean sheets without putting on your pajamas. You kept the sheets off of you as you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled out your vibrator. It buzzed to life when you pressed the button, and you brought it straight to your nipples, running it over each of them until they were both hard. Then you trailed it down your stomach before pausing at your core. It was a rabbit, so it was made to stimulate your clit and your pussy at the same time. You were already clenching in anticipation as you teased yourself, letting the vibrator dance across your outer lips. Your thighs were slick with your juices, and you were able to slide the toy inside you with no problem.

Normally, you weren’t loud when you masturbated, but it took a lot to silence yourself. You often had your face buried in your pillow or your teeth biting harshly into your lower lip. That night, you were so far gone, keeping your moans quiet wasn’t exactly in the forefront of your mind. Your pussy was clenching the vibrator so tightly, and the vibrations were making your head hazy.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. Every time you used the toy after a week of PMSing, you felt like you were in heaven. Sure, it was nothing compared to a real dick, but it sure did a damn good job at satisfying you.

You were sure Tom’s dick would be more satisfying though.

Then, you were picturing him railing into you, your face pressed against the mattress and his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about him while pleasuring yourself, but it was the first time his name left your lips while doing it.

“Tom,” you moaned. It wasn’t too loud, but you still forced your teeth to sink into your lower lip to stop it from happening again.

But the damage had already been done, because Tom walked right by your door when you said his name. He didn’t think anything of it, just assuming you heard him walking by and needed him for something. His light knock on the door caused your heart to race against your chest. You fumbled to get the covers over yourself but didn’t have time to turn off the vibrator before he came in. You gripped the sheets close to your chest and ignored the vibrator buzzing on the bed between your thighs. It was no longer inside you, but it was so close to your core that you were still feeling the shocks.

“What’s up?” you asked, praying you sounded chill.

“You called my name,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. You shook your head and frowned.

“No I didn’t,” you said. You knew you didn’t sound convincing. Tom furrowed his eyebrows but seemed amused.

“I swear you did,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again when he heard something. “Is your phone going off?”

“What?” you said, feeling panic settling in your chest. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he said, patting his own pants pockets. “I hear something vibrating.”

“Nope,” you said, then laughed awkwardly. “You must be hearing things, Holland.”

Tom could tell you were hiding something, and he liked how flustered you seemed. It was funny to him. He took a few steps closer to you, and your body froze. “What are you doing?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice your voice shake.

He laughed. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. “Can’t you just go?”

“You’re hiding something,” he said. “And I only know one way to get you to spill.”

Your eyes grew wide at what he was insinuating. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, Tom, don’t.” He ignored you and jumped on the bed, gripping your hips over the sheets and tickling you. “Tom!” you said, trying to wiggle away from him while still keeping your body covered.

And then, he felt it.

The vibrator buzzed against his knee causing him to stop his actions in their tracks. You were mortified. Tom didn’t look at you. Instead, he looked down at his knee as if trying to stare through the sheet to see the toy in question. You didn’t know what to say. You were busted. There was no way around it. How were you going to talk your way out of this one?

What you hadn’t expected was for Tom to grab your sheet and pull it off your body. You were frozen in shock as you watched him. His eyes were still fixated on the vibrator, now noticing that it was covered in your slick. When he finally looked at you, you realized his pupils were so blown that his eyes looked black. You were waiting for him to say something or even leave the room in disgust. Instead, Tom picked up your vibrator and turned it over in his hands, not at all seeming to mind that it was wet.

“Do you think of me a lot when you do this?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, and Tom surprised you by pressing the vibrator against your clit. A choked out moan passed your lips and your hips lifted. “Answer me,” he said.

“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, I do, Tom.” He pulled the vibrator away, and you whined at the feeling. He looked up at you again, and you felt embarrassed tears come to your eyes as you closed your legs and covered your chest with your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “Please, please just go, and I’ll never-“

“Open your legs.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to process what he said. You looked at him and saw he was staring at your body.

“What?” you said. Tom lifted his head to look in your eyes, and his expression softened.

“You tell me you don’t want my help,” he said, “and I’ll go. But-“ He cut himself off, needing to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking. “-fuck, let me help you.”

Instead of answering him with words, you moved your hands from your chest and spread your legs apart. Tom wasted no time situating himself between your legs, your vibrator still in his hand. He licked his lips before bringing the toy to your cunt, pushing it inside you inch by inch. His mouth watered at how eager your pussy was to take the vibrator, and he imagined how tightly you’d squeeze his cock.

The smaller part of the vibrator pressed against your clit every time Tom pushed the toy inside you. He worked it slowly, and you were writhing on the bed above him. You both jumped when his finger hit one of the buttons, and the vibration setting changed. “How many different vibrations are there?” he asked you, not taking his eyes off your cunt.

“Uh, huh, 30,” you stuttered.

“30,” Tom repeated, like he was testing the number on his lips. “‘S a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“You use them all?” he asked.

“Not all the time,” you managed to say. He pulled the toy out of you until just the tip was inside. You whined and tried to lift your hips, but he put his arm across your stomach to stop you. He pressed the button again, trying out another vibration. He kept clicking until he stopped on one whose pattern and intensity intrigued him.

“You like this one?” he asked. He sounded genuinely curious, but you were too focused on the fact that Tom was holding a vibrator against your cunt to answer him in any significant way.

“I like them all,” you said. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see the smirk that danced across Tom’s lips. He thrust the toy inside you causing you to cry out in pleasure. Every time he pulled it away and the small part left your clit, you wanted to beg him to put it back. He always did. His thrusts were slow but rough, pounding the toy inside you so it hit the right spots each time.

When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying something you might regret. Tom noticed.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he muttered, pulling the toy away from where you wanted it most. You forced your eyes open to see Tom was biting his lower lip. His pupils were still blown, but his expression was soft, almost vulnerable. How was he the vulnerable one right then?

You knew what he wanted, and when he pushed the toy back inside you, his name fell from your lips. With a few more thrusts, you were cumming. You grabbed Tom’s hand and forced him to keep the toy in place, the vibrations destroying your clit in the best way possible. Your moans were so wrecked, and the way you called Tom’s name like a prayer made his already hard dick throb in his sweats.

When he pulled the toy out of you, he noticed the way your pussy clenched around nothing. He shut the toy off, and you kept your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. You were so focused on coming down from your high that you shrieked when you felt Tom’s mouth on your core. “Tommy,” you moaned, gripping his hair in your hands. He lapped up your cunt, savoring each drop of your cum like he wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. He could tell by how you wanted him to use the toy that you needed clit stimulation, so he gave you that. He rolled your clit with his tongue, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure. Your thighs started squeezing his head, but he held them apart, growling in warning against your cunt. You cried out, begging him for something you couldn’t quite word. Whatever it was, he somehow knew, because he had you cumming again in just the right number of minutes. He let you savor it; he didn’t rush it.

You looked down at him when he pulled away, and you noticed his lips were coated in your orgasm. You smiled in embarrassment as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He surprised you when he started kissing up your body. His lips stopped at your jaw, and he pulled back to look in your eyes. You stared at each other for a few moments before you both moved a fraction closer to each other to close the space between you in a kiss. It wasn’t as desperate and needy as you expected it to be, and you hoped and prayed that this meant something to Tom like it did to you. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. “You say the word and I’m done,” he said. “No pressure. No obligation. No-“

You cut him off. “Fuck me, Tom.” The corner of his lip raised into his cheeky smirk, and he kissed you again. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised by the affectionate action, but you loved it. You kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your core against the bulge in his pants. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists and tugged it up his body until he pulled away and yanked it over his head, tossing it to the side. He sat back on his heels and tugged his sweats and boxers down at the same time, moving around to take them off completely. His dick was even better than you imagined it might be. He was the perfect length, and he was thick, the tip red and already leaking precum.

“Shit,” Tom muttered. “Do you have a condom?”

You sighed. “No.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ve got some in my room.”

“Mm, okay,” you hummed, pressing your thighs together. “Hurry back.” You moved your hand slowly down your stomach, then traced up and down your thighs. You swore you’d never seen someone move as quickly as Tom did then, jumping off your bed and rushing out the door. When he came back, he already had the condom packet open, which made you giggle. He grinned and got back on the bed, rolling the condom on his length with a satisfied sigh. You thought he would push into you right away, but instead, he brought his lips down to yours again. He didn’t quite let them press together, just hovered over your lips before kissing across your cheek and to your ear.

“Tell me, love,” he said. “What do you think about when you think of me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he lined himself up, letting the tip of his cock brush against your clit. “Ah, fuck,” you breathed out. “Hard and fast. Choking me. Pulling my hair. Fuck-” Tom thrust into you without warning, giving you no time to adjust before pounding into you. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth gaped open. Your head almost hit the headboard with the force he was fucking you, and the room was full of your moans and slapping skin.

Tom surprised you when he pulled out of you so he could turn you over and slam into you from behind. He pulled you up by your hair so your back was arched, and you cried out in pleasure. “Yes,” you screamed. “Just like that, Tom. Fuck!” He pulled you up even more so your back was flush to his chest, and he moved his hand from your hair to your throat.

Again, better than you imagined.

He cut off your airflow just enough to make your head feel hazy. “You like that?” he muttered in your ear. “Fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so tight, you must love it.”

“Tom,” you gasped out. 

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” he asked. You nodded as much as you could, and Tom pressed a little tighter against your neck. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” You moaned, your voice cracking as you did so. “Fuck, yes,” Tom said as you milked his cock. “‘M gonna cum. Oh fuck.” With a few more thrusts, Tom spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering as he finished. He pulled out of you as you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. You laid in bed, your eyes closed, as Tom fell beside you. He took off the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash beside your bed. You were both breathing heavily, and neither of you knew what to say or who should speak first.

“Wow,” you finally said.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.” You turned your head to look at him, and he did the same. Tom licked his lips and darted his eyes between yours. “So, what, um-” He hesitated. “What do we do now?” You swallowed thickly and stared up at the ceiling again. This was it. This was when you had to lie and say it was just sex, because you were sure that was what he would want.

Tom seemed to read your mind. “Maybe this isn’t the right time to say this,” he said, “but I really like you, (Y/N).” You looked at him again and saw how small and nervous his smile was. “You’re my best friend, but, but I’ve felt more than best friend feelings for you for a long time now.” You turned on your side and faced him.

“Really?” you asked, reaching over to stroke his cheek with the back of your hand.

He chuckled and mirrored your position. “Yeah, love. Really.” You smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were still smiling.

“I feel the same,” you said. He smiled and turned you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you again. He peppered kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess under him. “You’re so weird,” you said. “How can you go from choking me to this in a matter of minutes?” Tom’s expression shifted a bit, and he brushed his fingers lightly across your neck.

“That was okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “More than okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him close to you again. “Just so you’re prepared, my sex drive after shark week is always crazy high. And choking-” You brushed your lips across his. “-that’s just the beginning of what I’m into.”

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

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[saphie3243]

First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.  

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There  was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this. 

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year. 

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting. 

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass. 

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.” 

__

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares. 

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it. 

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.” 

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers. 

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented. 

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.” 

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.” 

“Why is there an R in it?” 

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn’t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.  

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?” 

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes. 

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop. 

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?” 

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?” 

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me.  Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first. 

“Not sure, why?” 

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta. 

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.” 

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.  

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew. 

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.” 

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced. 

“I would have picked you up if you asked.” 

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian. 

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch. 

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either. 

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.” 

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper. 

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.”  Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.” 

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t push. 

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.” 

__

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in. 

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted. 

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window. 

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved. 

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning. 

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him. 

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.” 

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.” 

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle. 

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do. 

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out? 

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited. 

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal. 

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.” 

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?” 

“The bacon looks done.” 

“Azriel.” 

He sighed. “No.” 

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.” 

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him. 

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered. 

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.” 

__

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.” 

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then. 

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room. 

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year… 

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up -  but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents! 

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice. 

“I honestly don’t know.” 

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?” 

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year. 

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked. 

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices...  even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society. 

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip. 

“It is the longest night of the year.” 

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army. 

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.” 

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?” 

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed. 

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them. 

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring. 

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another. 

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.” 

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.” 

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.” 

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something. 

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time. 

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there. 

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound. 

“Devlon,” she said very carefully. 

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.” 

“We need to get him out.” 

“His friends will get him out.” 

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it. 

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.” 

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit. 

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own? 

“Nesta!” 

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?”  She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso. 

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie. 

“He needs a healer.” 

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.” 

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

__

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night. 

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked. 

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table. 

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know. 

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter. 

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong. 

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.” 

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway. 

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note. 

Dear Nesta, 

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help. 

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry. 

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me. 

Your sister, 

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out. 

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who? 

“You’re up.” 

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.” 

“How’s the boy?” 

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.” 

“That’s good.” 

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?” 

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed. 

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.

[bellakitse]

Completely, and without hesitation

Owen and Carlos talk while they wait for TK to wake up. Owen realizes TK has found the love he's always wanted for him.

Spoilers for episode 8 

(I have no self-control, okay? and a lot of feelings)

Owen Strand leans against the door to his son’s hospital room, watching as the tired cop half-sleeps in an uncomfortable chair next to TK’s bed. It’s a familiar sight he’s gotten used to in the last five days since TK got shot. Every evening since that horrible night, Owen has come into his son’s room to find Carlos still in his uniform, coming off a 12-hour shift to sit next to his son.

The young man likes to hold TK’s hand and run his fingers through his hair as he asks him to just open his eyes already.

‘I think you’re taking this whole beauty sleep thing a little too seriously, Tyler. You’re already pretty enough. What are you trying to do? Blind me?’

Owen was surprised the first time he heard the good officer use his son’s given name so casually. The fact is, even Owen doesn’t use his son’s first name, opting for TK instead of dealing with the face his kid always makes when someone calls him Tyler, or worse, Tyler Kennedy.

Carlos chuckled, his voice sounding rough when Owen pointed it out to him.

‘Yeah, he gets all pissy when I say it, but then he usually smiles so I don’t think he minds all that much. I only use it when he’s getting too big for his britches, cause no offense Captain, but your son is a real brat when he wants to be.’

Owen smiled his first smile in days at the comment, nodding in agreement, before pointing out that it seemed like Carlos liked TK anyway. Carlos blushed, his eyes straying back to TK, his expression so impossibly soft it made Owen feel like he was intruding.

‘Yeah, I do.’

He doesn’t tell Carlos that the question was rhetorical.

TK has been pretty tight-lipped about what’s going on between him and the officer, but he’s spotted Carlos picking TK up after a shift more than once, a bounce in his step and a smile on his kid’s face as he gets into the other man’s flashy car. Of course, if that wasn’t enough to let him know that TK and Carlos were something. The way the young man reacted to TK getting shot was enough to settle any doubt.

The evening of the accident is a chaotic mess in his head, everything happened in an instant and a lifetime simultaneously. The loud echo of the shot being fired, TK freezing, shock, and pain etched in his face as he looked at him with wide eyes before falling back. The frenzy of the team moving around him as he fell to his knees beside his boy, watching helplessly as Michelle sprung into action fighting to stabilize TK.

His focus had been on TK and Michelle as she worked, which is why he didn’t miss it when she looked up at someone. It was the first time since the gun went off that he looked away from his son to find who she was silently communicating with. Carlos, a step just behind Marjan, breathing hard, his eyes like saucers and his face drained of color as he stared at his son. He didn’t say it out loud, but Owen still caught the way the cop mouthed TK’s name, as shock and heartbreaking-worry colored his face. The moment sparked a distant light in his head, a moment of Oh, that made everything click into place.

Since then, the kid hasn’t left TK’s side unless he’s forced to go to work, always coming back right after his shifts. He’s always respectful, offering to leave when Owen walks into the room, the reluctantness to do so, visible even as he’s being polite. Owen has waved away the comment enough times in the last five days that the kid is finally getting that he doesn’t need to go anywhere. Owen appreciates the company, and he knows TK will too when he wakes up.

He takes a seat on the other side of TK’s bed, wincing when the scrape of the chair on the floor causes Carlos to rouse from his fitful sleep.

“Captain,” he greets him with a groggy nod, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Carlos,” he greets back with a half-smile, the kid is so young, just like his boy. “Sorry I woke you, son.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, a small smile of his own as he looks over at TK’s sleeping form. “Tonight’s the night he wakes up, even if I have to annoy him into doing so. Isn’t that right, Tyler Kennedy?”

Owen can’t help the snort that escapes him. “If anything would do it, it would be calling him that. You might be on to something.”

Carlos grins over at him, pleased.

“But I have to warn you,” Owen cautions, his amusement slipping a bit. “TK can be as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be.”

“Don’t I know it,” Carlos mutters, blushing slightly when he catches the look Owen is giving him.

Owen doesn’t push, he thinks he knows what the comment is about. Even though it’s obvious to him now that something is going on between them besides working in neighboring fields. The fact that TK has been quiet about them makes Owen believe that maybe TK has been keeping the man across from him at arm's length.

“He’s been through a lot,” Owen says softly, unable to keep himself out of it, not when it’s his son’s potential happiness at stake. “Things in New York got heavy for him.”

Carlos gives him a nod, he’s holding on to TK’s hand now, and Owen watches as he runs his thumb over TK’s knuckles. “Yeah,” Carlos clears his throat, shooting Owen a quick look. “He’s told me about it.”

Owen can’t help the amazement he knows is on his face. “All of it?”

Carlos shrugs, making a complicated face. “Probably not all of it, but enough to severely dislike his ex, and understand why he doesn’t drink, or why the pain medication they keep giving him aren’t opioid-based.”

Owen takes in a breath, shock doesn’t even begin to cover what he’s feeling. He reevaluates the situation instantly. He already figured that TK and Carlos were in some relationship of sorts, to know that his son has felt comfortable enough with him to share his struggles, surprises him, but also settles something inside his chest. All this time, Owen’s been worried  TK hasn’t told anyone but his therapist about his battles. Knowing that’s not the case quiets the worry that’s constantly buzzing inside him.

Owen clears his throat when he realizes Carlos is watching him with a worried look like he’s done something wrong. “That’s good,” he reassures him. “I’m glad that he has someone he trusts enough to talk about things. Like I said, it’s been a lot on him the last couple of months.”

Carlos nods at him silently, looking back at TK, his hand reaching up to touch his face. The move is as gentle as when Owen does it, and Owen has to breathe through the tight squeeze in this chest.

“I never liked Alex,” he says quietly, causing Carlos to look back at him with startled eyes. “I was polite for TK’s sake, and it’s not like I thought he was a bad guy or anything, at least before the cheating. I just didn’t think he was good enough for my son.”

Owen looks down at TK. For a moment, he doesn’t see the strong guy who became a firefighter because he wanted to be just like him, all he sees is his little boy.

“He’s my kid, and I’m biased,” Owen tries to laugh, swallowing hard when it comes out stalled. Carlos gives him an encouraging look to continue. “From the moment I saw him, this tiny little thing wrapped in a pale blue blanket, I lost my heart to him. Just handed it right over without a second thought. He was just so beautiful,” he sighs, looking at Carlos to find understanding in his eyes. “Do you know what I mean?”

Carlos bites down on his lip, his eyes going back to TK. “Yes, sir, I know exactly what you mean, he –“

Carlos trails off, looking down at the hand he’s holding, giving it a soft squeeze. He lifts eyes to Owen, meeting him head-on, and Owen is blown away by the emotion and love, he sees in Carlos’ gaze. “He just has a way about him, he lights up the room when he walks in, and I can’t look away.”

Owen watches Carlos for a moment, every feeling the kid has, clear to see. “Does he know how you feel about him?”

“I’m trying not to spook him,” he admits. “The first time I came on too strong, he ran so fast he left skid marks on my living room floor. I’m letting him set the pace, letting him call the shots,” Carlos shrugs as he plays with TK’s fingers before interlocking them with his.

“You don’t seem too bothered by that,” Owen points out, getting back a wry smile in return.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Carlos starts with a soft, amused huff. “If I didn’t think TK would put on his running shoes and head for the state line. I would be introducing him to everyone as my boyfriend, and taking him to Sunday dinners with my ma so she can put some meat on his bones while making him blush as she compliments his pretty face,” Carlos grins at him as he lets out a laugh at the comment. “Carlota Reyes is a sucker for green eyes.”

“Like mother, like son?” Owen questions teasingly, amused as the big strong cop blushes.

“Something like that,” he admits with a soft grumble that makes Owen feel fond. “But he’s not ready for that, and that’s okay. He’s healing, and he’s letting me be part of it. I can wait till he’s ready for more,” Carlos’ eyes drift back to TK’s sleeping form. “He’s more than worth the wait.”

Owen believes him, completely and utterly, but it’s his kid, and he has to be sure. “Even if it’s a long time?”

Carlos looks at him again, nothing is wavering about his expression. “Even if it takes forever,” Carlos promises. “I’m not going anywhere unless TK specifically tells me to.”

Owen smiles at him. He opens his mouth to tell him he supports him when TK lets out a small groan, stopping their conversation in its track, making Owen jump from his seat as he hovers over TK.

Carlos does the same but not as close, letting Owen have the moment. They watch as TK makes a face, and a soft, pained noise passes his lips before his eyes start to open. “Dad?”

Owen has to swallow hard to not burst into tears as his eyes sting. “Hey, sweet boy,” he whispers, smiling as TK makes another face, it’s been well over a decade since he’s called him that.

“What happened?” TK gets out, licking at his dry lips.

Owen feels a hand press into his elbow, he looks up to see Carlos holding a cup of water with a straw for him to give TK.

“Thanks,” he says softly to the young man, alerting TK of the other person in the room.

He watches as his son turns his head, the smile on his face when he spots Carlos the sweetest he’s seen on TK in forever.

“Hey you,” TK says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes him in. “You look like shit.”

Owen can’t help the laugh that escapes him as Carlos rolls his eyes down at his son, a smile of his own on his face.

“Charming as always, Tyler,” Carlos teases.

“Mean,” TK pouts, though his expression goes soft when Carlos touches his cheek.

“Not as mean as keeping us waiting for five days while you snoozed away in bed,” Carlos shoots back quickly, and Owen watches in amazement at the easy banter they fall into. “While your dad and I got crappy hospital chairs.”

TK’s eyes widen, now more alert as he looks around, evident that everything is coming back to him. “Five days?” he gets out, his eyes bouncing from Owen for confirmation, then back to Carlos, his expression going timid. “And you’ve been here?”

Carlos hesitates, he starts to pull his hand back, but TK holds it in place against his face. They stare at each other, and the emotion between them is so palpable, Owen can feel it.

“Every day,” he says softly, grabbing their attention. “Carlos has been here every day, TK.”

Carlos blushes at the words and under TK’s stare, letting out a sigh when TK gives his hand a squeeze, giving him a nod in return.

TK smiles, closing his eyes as he turns his face and presses a kiss into Carlos’ palm. Owen watches as the small gesture knocks the wind out of Carlos’ sails. The young man sways forward until he presses his forehead against TK’s.

“You’re never allowed to scare me like this again, okay?” Carlos whispers. “Promise.”

TK nods as he brings his hands to cradle Carlos’ face. “I promise,” he whispers as he holds Carlos to him. “I’m sorry.”

Owen watches them as they exchange soft words between them with a happy and warm feeling in his chest, unable to look away from his son and the man who loves him. Because there is no doubt in his mind that Carlos Reyes loves his son. What’s more, he loves him the way Owen has always hoped for his son to be loved.

Completely, and without hesitation.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ the beatles x reader ] part one

summary: You’re two seconds away from strangling John, three from a total breakdown over midterms. Paul won’t stop using up all the hot water in the mornings and George is determined to beat him there one way or another, godammit. Ringo doesn’t deserve this clusterfuck. And you all live together in a shitty, shitty apartment. 

prompt: not really, but egged on by this post from @weall-love-ina-yellow-submarine​ warnings: this is pure crack. no plot. just something that i birthed out at one am aka prime kal writing time. queen reference if you squint

masterlist

so... this is gonna be a crack series. modern college au. y’all live together bc why the fuck not. 

“FUCKING MCCARTNEY!”

The shout echoes through the apartment and immediately gives you a migraine. You groan and press your forehead to the paragraph you’ve been trying and failing to read for the past ten minutes. John sips his tea, not even looking up from his phone.

Bare feet sound on the floor, louder and louder (Jurassic Park, your brain supplies wildly) until George bursts into the kitchen pissed, wet, and arse-naked save for a tiny towel around his waist.

“Where the fuck is he?” George seethes, practically vibrating where he stands. You make eye contact with him, look down, and then try to look anywhere but.

“Uh.”

Seeing you would be no help, George rounds on your unusually quiet table mate.

“John…”

John takes another sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie, I know that you know, you two are basically attached at the fucking hip.”

“You don’t know that I know that you know because I don’t know.”

“Well I know that you know that-”

You slam your textbook shut and they both jump. George almost drops the towel.

“Jesus fucking��Christ, stop that! I’ve got midterms next week and you two are driving me up the fucking wall!”

John, ever the mature one, sticks his tongue out at you while George shuts up. He’s still simmering with a quiet, repressed anger and you can see it in the way his cheekbones almost get… sharper.

“What are you goin’ on about, anyway?” John asks, picking up his tea once more.

George takes a deep breath. “Every morning Paul uses up the hot water. All of it. Every last drop--and I dunno why he needs forty fuckin’ minutes in there but he better be squeaky all the way up his arse.” John snorts into his cup. “And I woke up early today to beat him to it but he somehow knew! He knew that I knew.” Sighing, you slump forward into your textbook again but George barrels on. “I’m gonna catch that clean bastard.”

At some point during George’s rant you look down and see that he’s been dripping water the whole time. A small puddle has formed on the tile around his feet. You watch, fascinated, as it gets larger and larger. Somewhere deep in the recesses of your brain, a warning bell goes off. Ring, ring...

“Probably left for class already,” you say, ignoring the premonition. Ring… The boy grumbles, does an impressive one-eighty (you try very hard not to stare when the towel flies up but, let’s face it, it’s a tiny towel and you have no self-restraint), and marches back down the hall. When he slams the bathroom door it rattles in its frame. With a reluctant sigh, you return to your studying.

’When reevaluating the penis’--wait a minute, there’s no way that says penis. You rub your eyes furiously. ’When reevaluating the process,’ okay that makes sense, where was I… ‘it becomes clear that Rogers (1949) and May (1947) were operating under…’

“What?” you mutter to yourself. Who’s May? There’s no way you learned this in class. You check the chapter title and realize with mounting horror that you’ve been reADING THE WRONG UNIT THIS WHOLE TIME—

You drop your face to the table and scream. From the bathroom, there’s a faint yell of “What the fuck?” John finally looks up from the YouTube video he’s been glued to for the better half of the morning.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist now?”

“Fuck off,” you hiss, nose still pressed to the textbook. “I’m gonna fail my exams and be an Uber driver for the rest of my life.”

“Thought Uber got shut down in London.”

“Won’t you just let me wallow in my own pity? Is there no sympathy in your cold, cold heart??”

“I’ve got midterms too but you don’t see me being pissy about it.”

You peel your face off the page, almost ripping it, just to glare daggers at John. “You’re a goddamn English major,” you hiss and he jeers at you.

You’ve got half a mind to bash John right across his smug, smirking face with your book when Ringo shuffles into the kitchen and breaks the tension.

“Good mornin’” Ringo mumbles through a mouthful of yawn. He’s wearing his red stripey pajamas, the ones that he basically lived in the week after getting his tonsils out, and you smile fondly at the memory as he passes by the dinner table. Wait, there’s something you have to tell him, isn’t there? 

Ring… ring…

“RINGO!” You burst out but it’s too late. Ringo steps right into the George-puddle and his feet shoot out underneath him and his slippers are flying, flying over the fruit bowl like a football(American, obviously). By the time he hits the ground with a horrifying crack, you’re already screaming bloody murder.

Then, from the bathroom— “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

[crumburoo]

It came in 3 unassuming moments in his life. If asked, Pro hero Ground Zero will deny the possibility of a guardian angel until his dying breath, but the 3 letters he so carefully stored away in a shoebox inside his cabinet beg to differ.

The first letter he received was way back in middle school. It came the morning their homeroom teacher was due to discuss their selection for high school choices. Katsuki woke up as usual, had breakfast with his dad and his usual screaming match with his mom. After his bath, he went upstairs to prepare for the day. There, sitting unassuming in his desk, was a letter addressed to him. A girl did give him a letter yesterday. Probably another confession letter, he thought smugly, but then he remembered that he exploded that thing yesterday, causing the girl to cry and run away from him. Curiosity now piqued, he opens the letter and on it were written the words "Don't be an ass. Don't let them tell him that he can't make it."

"The fuck!?" was Katsuki's first thought, but he was quickly taken out of it when his mom yelled for him to hurry up, otherwise he will be late. Tossing the letter inside his drawer, he quickly gets himself ready for school. "That shit can wait" he mutters to himself.

In school and to no one's surprise, Izuku raises his hand and says he plans on applying to UA as well. Immediately, his classmates start snickering and makes fun of the "quirkless wonder." Katsuki used to bully Izuku in the past, and still does on occasion, but him taunting Izuku has since lost it's appeal. He doesn't start them anymore, but when prompted, he always gives out a little insult here and there.

Izuku stammers and nearly shakes, but he doesn't back down even when his homeroom teacher tells him to select a more "realistic" school of choice. It was then that Katsuki remembered the mysterious letter he received that morning. "Don't be an ass" the words kept repeating itself in his head.

-- "atsuki, what do you think!?" One of his classmates bumps his shoulder, likely trying to get him to make fun of Izuku. Izuku, who was crying silently but hasn't made a move to concede his dream of going to U.A. Izuku, who used to be his childhood bestfriend. Izuku, who was since diagnosed quirkless and has since been the subject of ridicule at his school.

In a strange mix of pity and reluctant awe, Katsuki opened his mouth and said "Tsk, leave the loser alone. If he wants to get killed that badly, then let him apply for U.A. As if he'll get in anyway." Izuku looks at him slackjawed, but as an impromptu leader within the classroom, all of his classmates decide to drop the subject.

After school, Katsuki goes straight home and takes a nap. When dinner time came, his mom casually mentions that she and her friend, Midoriya Inko will meet tomorrow night for some spa date. Katsuki just dismisses his mom's rant, but then Mitsuki casually says " Oi brat, Izu-chan called too, says he wants to say thank you. I didn't wake you up cause I know you'll be pissy. The hell did you do?"

"I didn't do shit, old hag! He said thank you to me, why are you assuming I did something wrong!?"

"Because you're you" is his mom's retort. After dinner, Katsuki locks himself in his room and thought back on Izuku's phone call, getting a weird sense of accomplishment all the while.

The second letter came during his 2nd year as a high school student. Katsuki and Izuku both got into U.A. It was a surprise to everyone when Izuku somehow passed the entrance exam. Still quirkless, Izuku did poorly on the physical part of the exam, but aced the written part, barely scraping enough points to get into the hero support courses. Katsuki and Izuku have since developed a tentative sort of understanding regarding their "friendship." If asked, yes they knew each other, but other than that, they never sought each other out. It was a weird thing, being apathetic to the existance of your once childhood bestfriend, but Katsuki and Izuku make it work. Even though Katsuki hears Izuku's name in passing, he never seeks out the nerd.

At U.A., Izuku's penchant for anything hero-related was considered endearing and not a total nerd-alert, so much so that Izuku has grown comfortable in his own skin. Before long, he started having friends of his own. Izuku has long since accepted the fact that he has no quirk, but still wants to do work in the pro hero circuit, so he decided to enroll in the hero support program at U.A.

During their second year, Katsuki's homeroom teacher mentioned that in preparation for their future pro hero careers, they need to get acquinted with other works related to their chosen field, which means that tomorrow, they will be working with the hero support students to work on possible support items they can use.

Katsuki trudges to his room at Heights Alliance and decides to do his homework before hitting the gym. There, stuck between his math and hero history notebooks, was a letter with his name on it. Immediately remembering the note he got in middle school, Katsuki hurriedly opens the letter and reads it. It was a lot longer than the first, with notes on always being careful and not being complacent about his own goals. What caught his attention though, was the footnote. Written in red ink were the words "it's okay to be confused at times. You're still young, so you got time to figure it out."

Katsuki hurriedly calls his homeroom teacher and asks permission to leave the dorm and go home for the weekend. Aizawa doesn't see any harm in it, and quickly agrees (if only to get Katsuki off the phone).

Morning comes and Katsuki is bored out of his skull. When Aizawa-sensei faced the class and started introducing the support course students, Katsuki was casually listening but felt himself bummed when Izuku wasn't with the class. Perhaps he was doing this shit with class 2-B, Katsuki wasn't sure. "Well, I can just make fun of Deku's scrawny little ass next time", Katsuki thinks. Aizawa then starts assigning their class with their support course partners, when a mop of hair pops inside their classroom and asks if this is the 2-A class. Katsuki looks up just in time to see Aizawa use his capture weapon to shush the mumbling support course student who was spouting excuses as to why he was late. Aizawa then releases his capture weapon and loudly exclaims "and just for that, you will be assigned to my problem child. Row 4 aisle 3, you'll be working with Bakugou Katsuki."

This is it, Katsuki thought to himself. He's screwed. As Aizawa lowers his capture weapon, Katsuki is immediately assaulted by Izuku's blushing face, likely embarrased from being called out by a pro hero for his clumsiness. What he was not prepared for, was the sight of his childhood friend. No longer a scrawny kid, Izuku has hit a growth spurt and has since learned to do basic toning exercises by the looks of it. Somehow, he's also developed a sense of style cause his hair is no longer an unruly mess of green hair, but it was shaved a bit at the edges and is parted, accentuating his dimples and the freckles on his cheeks.

Izuku hesitantly walks up to him and gives him a tentative smile. "H..hi Kacchan" Izuku stammers. Katsuki was not prepared for Izuku's smile. Not wanting to show his internal freakout, Katsuki says "you got tall, but I'm still taller, nerd" and then Izuku full on laughs at him. It was then that Katsuki realized that Izuku's laugh maybe has a nice ring to it. It was literal years since he heard that laugh, and he was not assaulted with good childhood memories. Nope, not at all.

The thing was, Katsuki has since come to terms with his sexuality. Sure, he dated men and women before, but he somehow leaned more on the masculine side when choosing his dates, and he is starting to realize that his once scrawny childhood bestfriend's smile makes him feel prickly but in a good kind of way.

Katsuki was brought out of his musings when Aizawa began to drone off on what they should do for the next hour of class before zipping himself up in his sleeping bag. Izuku then picks up Aizawa's queue and starts asking Katsuki questions about his quirk. It was then that Katsuki started to notice the little things, like how Izuku's drawings and note taking have gotten more meticulous over time. How his line of questioning about the intricacies of his quirk were more profound. No longer was Izuku always rambling about how cool and powerful his quirk is, he's now able to spout information on how he thinks Katsuki's present hero costume can be altered, so that he can get rid of his bulky gauntlets while still maintaining the same level of firepower he always had. Katsuki was left with nothing, but to answer the questions thrown his way. Before he knew it, the one hour mark was up, and Aizawa-sensei was emerging from his sleeping bag on the floor.

"Uhm, thanks for not exploding me there Kacchan" Izuku rambles. Wide-eyed at how the (not) nerd looks, Katsuki just grunts and says "whatever." Izuku takes it as some sort of sign and just smiles and says "So I'll need your number so we can meet up next week." That got Katsuki's mind reeling and immediately tries to think of reasons why Izuku of all people will ask for his number. He's taken out of his internal monologue when Izuku says "Oh wait, it's probably better if I email you using your school email handle, atleast I can send you progress reports on your costume upgrades. Well, I'll talk to you next week. See ya!"

With that, Izuku and his entire class all bow their heads and Aizawa sheperds them outside the classroom, probably to talk to them for a bit.

After class ends, Katsuki decides to forgo his training and holes up in his dorm room, just staring at the anonymous letter in his grasp. He's kinda screwed. He knows, but he grins despite himself. He's looking forward to the weekend, when he can keep the second letter he received together with the first.

The third letter came that morning. Fast forward 7 years, with lots of problems, misunderstandings, and a whole lot of crying (on Izuku's part, Katsuki swears), he and Izuku have managed to repair their ruined friendship and has since learned to exist together in the same room and even work together on occasion. Katsuki graduated as one of the Big 3 at U.A. and Izuku was scouted by a support company during his third year internship, and has since been working with a reputable support item company right after graduation.

Katsuki has come to terms with the idea that yes, his longing for his childhood bestfriend was not as platonic as he used to think (I'm just making up for lost time), but rather because he may or may not have developed romantic feelings for the (not) nerd. After finding out from class 3-A that Katsuki was bi, Izuku has been smiling at him more, and has even invited him out several times, always in the guise of "Kacchan, I want to discuss some possible costume upgrades, are you free?" And if they just so happen to meet up at some chic coffee shop or a cute cake shop, then it is what it is.

7 years into their tentative "friendship", Katsuki was hit with the realization that he really likes Izuku, and wants to ask him to be his boyfriend. So last week, he casually invited Izuku to their favorite izakaya that's situated in between his hero agency and Izuku's company. After arriving at his apartment to prepare for his "not date", he notices a letter in his mailbox. Seeing the same envelope and lettering, he quickly runs inside his room and opens his cabinet. Underneath his spare boots, he takes out the shoebox containing the first 2 letters he got. All the same envelope, same handwriting, and Katsuki has yet to figure out who sends these to him. Not wanting to jinx it, Katsuki sits on his bed and opens the new letter. The only words written inside was today's date, the restaurant he was supposed to meet Izuku in, and the words "Go to the other place" in bold black letters. Katsuki snickers and calls Izuku and tells him to meet him at that restaurant that serves Katsudon instead.

Later that night, while Izuku snuggles with Katsuki on his couch, Izuku jumps up and says "Oh yeah Kacchan, I forgot to tell you, but that izakaya we were supposed to go to got attacked by a villain earlier! Good thing Red Riot and Uravity were on patrol so they got everything under control! Can we drop by tomorrow? Check things out" Katsuki just snuggles into Izuku more. "Sure nerd, whatever you want."

-- end

PS: Now if only I can work out some details as to who is Katsuki's mysterious letter sender. A Katsuki from an alternate universe? Katsuki from the future sending his past self some dating tips? I'll leave it to your imagination 💚🧡

[opheliawritesxo]

Jefferson & Leroy Street

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Inclusive!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an idiot, Y/N Stark is an idiot; Steve Rogers just wants them to kiss and make-up. So he plays matchmaker. How hard can it be to get two idiots in love? Apparently not as easy as he thinks.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: strong language, mentions of a horrible ex, angst with a happy ending

A/N: if anyone sees this fic on AO3 don’t worry about it, it is my own work I just thought I'd change it to a reader insert.

It’d been a long day; University had been busier than normal in the lead up to exams. They just kept telling their self - one more year - when in reality they still had to find a graduate job. What can one actually do with a degree in Criminology?

Unlocking the door to the flat they shared with their two best friends, they groaned at the mess. For two super soldiers, they sure knew how to create a mess. Steve Rogers, the famous Captain America, was currently away on a mission but Bucky was still here having not been needed for this particular mission.

“You had one job dickwad! One job!” They shouted as they looked at the state of the piled-up dishes. They had a bloody rota for a reason, god they missed the days of dishwashers and living at home with their parents.

           There was silence, frowning they searched every room before finally calling to F.R.I.D.A.Y and asking where the hell was Bucky?

“I’m afraid he stepped out over an hour ago Mx Stark, I can find his location if you wish?” The Irish lilt echoed throughout the empty flat. They groaned; they didn’t want to bother him in case he’d been called on a mission.

“Nah s’alright, but thanks anyway F.R.I.D.A.Y.” A weak smile crossed their face, they might as well clean the flat whilst they waited for Bucky to arrive home.

           Bucky never arrived home that night. They waited up as long as they could after giving the flat a thorough clean but when they woke in the morning it was clear he hadn’t come home. Their keys were still in the door. Groaning as they rubbed the back of their neck having fallen asleep on the couch, they checked their phone.

No messages.

That instantly put them in a pissy mood, they were a worrier; always had been, always will be.

           They knew it was going to happen, getting distracted beyond belief at Uni. Trudging back to the flat they could smell the aromatic aroma of Italian cooking. Clumsily opening the door, their face fell a little when they noticed Steve’s shield by the door.

“Are you.. are you seriously standing here cooking in your bloody uniform?” They snorted; well at least that was a sight to brighten their day.

“I was hungry!” He whined.

“Thought you were Bucky.” They muttered, grabbing the blonde’s shield and moving it to the cupboard. It was more so they wouldn’t trip over it as they had done a hundred times before.

“Well it’s his Ma’s recipe so I can see the confusion.” He smiled giving them a kiss on the cheek as they moved within reaching distance. “How was class?”

“Oh, you know.. the usual.” Plonking themselves down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Say.. you wouldn’t happen to have heard from Bucky have you?”

“Yeah, he’s at some dame’s place.. he never told you?” He frowned; they hated that frown.

“Oh yeah, shit I forgot. Of course!” They spoke quickly, they were already pissed at Bucky; it wouldn’t do for him to be ganged up by both them and Steve. “How was the mission?” Quickly and effortlessly changing the subject. Giving Steve the chance to rant about everything and anything he could reveal about the mission. While he spoke, they sent a text to Bucky.

Sent at 4:56PM

You could have told me you were going to get laid. Next time do the dishes before you go and get your dick wet. That is all.

After eating the wonderful food that Steve had prepared, how they could still fit through the door with both of them being amazing cooks they’ll never know; they headed through to their room to do some studying.

They woke up at 3am to her bedroom door being thrown open.

“Jesus Christ!” They squealed, practically falling out of bed as they watched Bucky saunter in.

“What the fuck is this?” Holding out his phone, they squinted at his phone screen being the only light source in the room. Flicking on a light they glared at him.

“It’s three in the fucking morning James, what the ever-loving fuck are you doing sauntering in here like you own the place!” They shouted; they didn’t care if they woke Steve up at this point.

“I do actually own the place..” They groaned

“It’s an expression you idiot! Can we talk about this in the morning? I don’t know why you’re pissed at me! You’re the one that didn’t tell me you were heading out and also left the flat in a god-awful state!”

“Oh, get over yourself! Why are you always so fucking clingy Y/N? It’s ridiculous!” That broke their heart, they knew they were clingy; they always had been, but Bucky had always liked it. —or so they thought.

“I was just worried about you.. I didn’t know where you were.” They muttered, feeling terribly small with the towering figure above them.

“You don’t need to know where I am every second of everyday Christ. Stop being jealous just because you haven’t been laid in months. How is Nathan anyway? Still fucking your ex best friend?” Well that was a low blow, it was clear no one anticipated the slap when it came.

“Fuck. You.” They growled, grabbing their jeans; pulling them on angrily as they moved to grab their coat.

“Y/N, darlin’ it’s late. Come on we’ll got through to my-“ Steve was interrupted by the front door slamming. “The fuck Buck?” He said turning to his best friend.

“Don’t Steve.. just don’t.” The former asset muttered as he moved through to his room, slamming the bedroom door shut.

“Fucking hell..” Steve muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please track them and let me know the minute something isn’t right okay?”

           When they arrived back at the flat four hours later, Steve was already opening the door to her before they could even get their hand on the handle.

“Bloody intelligent busy body in the ceiling.” They muttered to herself as they trudged in. Toeing off their shoes, they headed to their bedroom but were stopped by the ever-righteous grandpa.

“We need to talk about last night.” Steve’s voice was soft, but it held a commanding edge to it, they couldn’t be fucked with that in that moment.

“No, we don’t, Barnes made everything crystal clear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have class in an hour and a half.” They grunted, hands on his chest to push him out of the way.

“Y/N.. he was- “

“If drunk is about to come out of your mouth I’m whacking you with your own shield. He can’t get drunk; well all know that so why don’t you stop coming up with excuses for his behaviour and just ‘get over yourself’ like I’m doing huh?” Expression blank, but the tears that were starting to well in their eyes were clear for anyone close enough to see.

“You went to Nathan’s.. Y/N, that’s not.. we talked about this. You were doing so well.” He whispered, holding onto their upper arms to keep them in place.

“I waited Steve, I did what you said, and I waited for him to come around. Every-time I tried to make the first move it didn’t work. Bucky doesn’t want me; I’ve accepted that now.. maybe it’s time you do too. Matchmaker isn’t really your biggest strength.” A weak smile on their face as they finally pushed their way out of his grasp.

Heading down the corridor she saw Bucky’s door slowly close, he’d obviously been listening in. Typical. Rolling their eyes, they headed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind them.

           It had been a week since the incident. Both Bucky and Y/N hadn’t left the flat which was more concerning on Y/N’s behalf due to the fact they’d missed a whole week of University. The final straw was when Tony cornered Steve after a briefing asking why he’d gotten an email from the University saying his child hadn’t been attending classes.

He hated being cornered by a protective Tony, especially since they were tentatively trying to build a relationship together. Totally hush hush at the moment; only the two of them aware. Stomping into Y/N’s room he frowned when he saw them staring into space.

“Enough. Get dressed and get the fuck out of here for a couple of hours. Please I’m literally begging you. You’re both driving me up the wall.” It took a couple of seconds for Y/N to grasp that Steve was in the room speaking to them.

“And where exactly do you want me to go?” They mumbled into their duvet.

“Anywhere that isn’t Nathan’s or somewhere dangerous.” Going into their wardrobe he started throwing clothes at them. “If you’re not ready in ten I will barge right back in here you hear?”

“Jesus Steve.. I’m going, Christ.” She muttered, shooing him out the door so they could get ready. Maybe a night out would be nice, they could go for a couple of drinks.

           When they finished getting ready, they side-stepped Steve before they collided with him. Sending a mock salute his way they grabbed their shoes and headed out the door. There were a few bars within walking distance, so they ended up at the first one on their path. Slipping inside they sat themselves down at the bar, ordering a whiskey neat.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in” Mouthing a ‘fuck’ into their drink they turned to see Nathan.

“What do you want?” They grumbled, arms crossing over their chest. He scoffed.

“I can’t believe I don’t even get a hello when I so kindly let you sleep on my couch last week. Didn’t even get a thank you.” Rolling their eyes at him.

“I’m pretty sure letting me crash on your couch is the least you could do after ruining three years of a relationship by shagging Caitlin.”

“I was expecting at least some thank you head, but you never were one to give, were you? Always take, take, take.” He purred; they could smell the booze off him as he made himself at home in their personal space.

“Fuck off Nathan, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“When were you ever in the mood, I’m sure I can get you there though. Always knew your-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence as a metal arm had him lifted halfway off the ground. They couldn’t help but snort at the fear in Nathan’s eyes.

“Want to finish that sentence?” Bucky growled. They couldn’t help but bite their lip, they’d always had a thing for pissed Bucky; as long as it wasn’t aimed at them but then again. A hand on their arm snapped them out of their daydream. “We’re going for a walk.” His hand slipping into theirs as he dragged them out the bar.

“Oh, we are, are we?” They muttered; the silence grew between them as they walked down the block. “Thanks.. for that back there. I- I didn’t sleep with him by the way. Just crashed on his couch.” They admitted. “I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“No one said you were.” They pulled on his hand as they got to a bench, pulling him down to sit next to them.

“I am. I’m sorry about the text.. I was just so worried. You know what I’m like, the world’s worst over-thinker.” Bucky groaned, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“I’ve been a prick.” He grunted, looking at them with sad eyes. “Do you remember the night you caught Nathan?”

Frowning they tried to remember what happened. “You took me to that club? You said something like ‘it’s more or a distraction for me so I don’t rip the bastards throat out?’ Or something along those lines?” He chuckled softly; their heart stopped for a moment — god they’d missed that sound.

“Yeah that’s right, you then proceeded to get fucking drunk off your ass and you said you can’t remember anything else from that night?” They shook their head.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that was it.”

“Well.. I’m gonna remind you of something right now just.. bear with me.” He mumbled, cupping their chin in his hand; he kissed them. Right there, on the corner of Jefferson and Leroy street. Their hands moved to clutch at his shirt, hazy memories filtering in. Loud music, colour, Bucky, heat, cool metal wrapped around them, Bucky, hands in silk strands, the taste of whiskey and something ultimately Bucky.

“Fuck I kissed you, in the middle of the dance floor..” They whispered as they pulled back, fingers moving to press lightly against their lips. They couldn’t believe she forgot.

“There’s an endless number of things that I wish I could forget darlin’, but I couldn’t forget that. Played in my mind for days. I realised quite quickly you didn’t remember it and you were still getting over him. Then you started to flirt with me and I just; I couldn’t take it.” Their heart was breaking.

“Buck.. I’m so sorry!” They croaked, taking both his hands in theirs; thumb stroking over the back of the smooth metal. “If I’d remembered I would’ve- “

“Thought I was gonna be your rebound or somethin’ and I couldn’t deal. Pretty sure you engrained yourself in my very soul from the day I met your cocky little ass.” His eyes were glued to the ground, but they weren’t having it. Grabbing his face in their hands.

“You never would’ve been a re-bound for my James. You understand me? I’ve loved you from the minute I met you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, I’m hopelessly, utterly-“ They hated being interrupted but they were pretty sure they could make an exception for Bucky’s lips on theirs. It was softer than they remembered, like they were something precious. That’s when the tears started to fall —no one had ever treated them like that before, like they were something to cherish.

“M’not good with feelings and emotions, life ain’t been too kind to me but I know that I love you and I want you. Every part of you. So m’gonna say it now. You’re mine, you’ll always be mine. Even if we can’t be together; you’ll always be engrained in-“ It was their turn to cut him off, kissing him hard; throwing their very soul into the kiss.

“I’m yours Buck, forever and always I’m yours.” They whispered. Chuckling softly, he brushed the tears from their face.

“That’s what I was hoping you were gonna say.” There on the corner of Jefferson and Leroy, two idiots finally got their happy ending. If Steve looked extra smug the next day; Tony would think it was because of him but in reality, it was because of the two thank you texts he’d received from the two idiots. His two favourite idiots.

[weightlessrosewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader - Part 1

Angst with a happy ending, multiple au’s, Levi is probably out of character but! oh well! Tw: mentions of death Masterlist ---------

" Hey Levi, do you believe in soulmates?  Or reincarnation?" (Name) asked her fellow captain. Levi looked up from his paperwork and rose a brow, before looking back down whilst scoffing. " No, that is nonsense stuff, (Name), focus on your paperwork or bushybrows will get pissy. "

(Name) gave a thoughtful hum. " Oh alright. You're extra grumpy today. " " And you're extra talkative today, I wonder if it's a coincidence. " He snipped back, only to get a giggle.

---

It was dark in the training fields, but Levi could clearly see (Name)'s trembling body on the ground, coughing. He ran over. " (Name)! " Levi skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees. " Hey, are you okay? Get up. "

(Name) only coughed more, flinching away from his gentle touch. " I-I can't stop. " She started coughing again, until Levi heard the faint splatter of something on skin, feeling his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. " (Name)? "

" Levi... The disease is... is... " She stopped, coughing more. " It's t-taking a toll on me. " More coughing. " Idiot, I told you not to overwork yourself. " Levi scooped (Name) up easily and made a beeline for Hanji's office, careful not to move her to much. " L-Levi... I-I'm not going t-to make it.. " (Name) murmured. Levi shook his head, " stop talking, reserve your strength. Shitty glasses can help you. " Moving into the light, Levi could clearly see the blood splattered across her hand and now his chest. He grit his teeth and picked up the pace. " I'm not letting you die pathetically like this. "

More coughing. " Th-there's nothing you c-can do. " A quick glare sent a few cadets scurrying away, brows furrowed in worry as their beloved captain coughed up more blood.

" L-Levi, promise me something. " " I'm not fucking promising you anything because you aren't fucking dying tonight. " " Promise me we'll meet again in the n-next -- " She got cut off by more coughing. " In the next life. Promise. " Levi scoffed again, reaching Hanji's office. 'I promise, (Name).'

--- It was raining at her funeral. The service was already over, and the only people remaining were Eren, Levi, and Hanji.

" Levi.. " Hanji started softly, a hand on his shoulder. " Shut up. Shut up if you know what's good for you shitty glasses. " He hissed. " You never told (Name)...did you. " Hanji ignored his comment, knowing they would be fine.

There was silence for a good five minutes before, " ...No. I didn't tell her how much I loved her. " Levi murmured softly, and Hanji shook their head.

Eren gave Levi a wide eyed look, before looking at Hanji. They only shook their head again, and he decided it was best to leave his captain alone for a while. " I'll kill him, for killing her. " Levi muttered, anger seeping into his voice. Hanji looked down at him. " Levi... No one knows where Dr. Yeager is. He's been missing for a long while now. He could be dead... " Levi only turned away and stormed off so he could be alone with his thoughts.

-----

" Hey Captain! I found something you might really want to check! " Eren yelled from down the beach, and Levi rolled his eyes. It probably wasn't anything interesting anyways, but the brat would pester him if he didn't go check. So Levi walked down the beach. The further he got though, the more confused he felt. Eren was talking to someone, but... It was just the two of them, right? And the public of the island weren't allowed on this beach, it was private for their research on that new breed of aggressive, giant fish. A hot spot, this beach was.

Levi walked behind a rock and completely stopped in his tracks. There, beside Eren and in front of him, clinging to as much shade the rock gave her, was... A mermaid? Levi blinked and rubbed his eyes before looking at her again. Her tail was bright red, and shimmery. Her fingers were webbed and ears slightly pointed. Her (e/c) looked up at him fearfully, and Levi realized not only was she trying to stay within the shade, but she was also very scared of them.

Levi recognized the fear in her eyes. " Eren, move away from it, look at how terrified it is, and you are far to close. We don't know if it's dangerous. "

" ...I couldn't hurt a snail, even if I wanted too. " The mermaid murmured shyly. " So it can talk. " " Captain, that was rather rude. " " Eren, we're keeping this to ourselves. Don't tell bushy brows, and definitely not shitty glasses. Take those samples back to the lab. " " Yessir! " And with that, Eren ran off down the beach.

Levi looked up to the observatory and lab on top of the cliff. It was after hours, so no one would be using it. He looked back down at the mermaid. " What's your name? " " M-my name? " She squeaked out. Levi nodded. " O-oh, it's (Name). " " Levi... A pleasure. " Levi stared down at her. There was this nagging feeling at the back of his mind, almost like he knew her from somewhere else. (Name) had an air of familiarity, and quite frankly; Levi hated it.

---

(Name) swung her legs over the pool side, sliding into the water. It had been several months, and Levi had finally let her meet the other staff, all of which welcomed her with open arms. After all, (Name) could help with this titan fish problem coming from this shitty sea.

(Name) was pleased to find out that the research laboratory and observatory didn't just do research, but had a rescue team that helped injured wild life, and had the funds to do so... even if she still didn't understand the concept of 'money'.

Levi walked over to her. " Oi, (Name). You look pale, are you feeling okay? " (Name) jumped slightly, startled. " Yeah, I feel fine, why? " (Name) lied through her teeth, and Levi raised a brow. " Just curious. If you need to go back to the ocean.. You can. We're not holding you hostage. "

(Name) laughed. " I'm well aware, but I am fine, I promise. I've just had some stuff on my mind. " Levi quirked a brow. " Do indulge me. " " It's... about Eren, actually. He looks rather similar to a merman I knew. He was a doctor. They even share the same last name! " She laughed. " Such a coincidence. "

" I sure hope you don't mean Dr. Grisha Yeager. " He deadpanned with a slightly colder tone, causing (Name) to stop laughing. " I uh.. I do. I worked as his understudy for a while, he had vast knowledge of... the human world. " Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lovely. Of course. " I uh.. guess that means Eren is a merman. You read that book I gave you, right? " " The one with no author? " " If that's what you call it, yes. "

Levi only nodded. It made sense, the brat could hold his breathe underwater longer than humanly possible. But this... This information was unwelcome. It made him worry for the girl, and he didn't like being worried about anyone.

---

A couple years went by. (Name) would occasionally spend a month or so in the ocean, always came back looking revitalized but this time... This time was different. She looked very sickly. Currently, (Name) was laying down on the couch in his office, waiting for Hanji to come back with blood test results.

The moment she started coughing, Levi felt a wave of uncomfortable, familiar dread. Almost, almost like he had been through this once before. And he had a sneaking suspicion of what was wrong, he didn't need the test results. (Name) was sick. Very sick.

There was a knock at the door before Hanji walked in, worry clouding their eyes. It only took Levi one look to know his sneaking suspicion was right. " Levi... " They started. " She's sick with the exact same thing Carla was sick with, isn't she. " " The survival rate is... less that 0.1%... " They confirmed with a frown.

(Name)'s coughing increased momentarily before dissipating to silence. But Levi knew better. He marched over to the couch from his desk and leaned over her. " Hand. Now. " " Wh-what? L-Levi nothing's wrong. " " Now. " He repeated to the girl, who was half curled into the couch on her side. (Name) gave in and moved her open palm to his sight.

Bright, crimson splatters stained her hand, and Levi could feel the tremble of another coughing fit start as (Name) immediately moved her hand back to her mouth. " Blood? " Hanji asked timidly. " Blood. " Levi repeated.

---

Levi was angry, but he didn't know who to be angry at anymore. Grisha was confirmed dead a long time ago, his body washed up along the shoreline years ago. But here lay (Name), in the infirmary bed at the laboratory where Hanji was doing their best to get her stable. But it wasn't working.

He sat, watching her sleeping form as Hanji walked over to him. " Levi? " They spoke softly, and Levi glanced up, giving them a look. " You love her, don't you. " It wasn't a question... More of a statement. A true statement.

Levi looked back at (Name), and sat there in silence for a few moments before speaking. " ...I do. " Hanji really hated what they were about to say next. " ...Then you know what the best option for her is, don't you. " This time Levi looked up to meet their gaze with a glare that would have made any of the cadets wet their pants. He was unable to answer though, because (Name) woke up and started coughing.

This time though... There was a lot of blood. More than Levi wanted to see. When she finished, (Name) looked over at him, shifting slightly to be more on her side to face him. " ...Levi? " " Yes? " He answered, voice going a little softer then when he'd been speaking to Hanji, who took their leave immediately.

" I.. I want you to promise me something... " She murmured, voice hoarse from constant coughing. Levi felt his stomach drop, and for some odd reason, those words felt painfully familiar. He didn't like it. " What might that be? " Levi could already feel the pain he was about to experience, and he knew he'd be crying sometime tonight.

" I- " She got cut off, coughing again. Levi got up and grabbed a glass of water for her, and some wet wipes. When the coughing died down, she continued to speak. " I want you to promise that we'll meet again in the next life. " There it was; that stupid, oddly and painful familiar feeling again. Levi really wished she hadn't spoken those words, he didn't like them.

" I promise. " Levi set the cup down as (Name)'s eyes shut. A couple more coughs and then she fell back asleep as Hanji walked back in. They walked over to stand beside Levi's chair in silence, and before they knew it, the beeping had stopped.

(Name) was gone. And Levi didn't have a chance to tell her how much he loved her. " She knew.. " Levi murmured, and Hanji absolutely hated hearing his voice crack. " She loved you, you know. " They spoke softly, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

Levi only scoffed and got up. " She should've fucking said something. " He walked to the door, avoiding eye contact. Hanji watched him leave, absolutely hating the tears in his eyes, the tears he refused to let fall. And with a solemn sigh, Hanji moved (Name) flat on her back, pulling the bed sheet over her head, and disconnected the machine.

Hanji did not enjoy the idea of informing the rest of the staff. Not one bit. (Name) had quickly become the heart of the Survey Corps. This was a devastating blow.

[yamithediaperdork]

Shopping with daddy OR Don’t be a brat!!! (My hero academia)

When your going to school, is there any better time of the year then summer vacation? Hell no, even if your school is far more awesome then most since your in training to be a superhero. And getting to spend your vacation with the love of your life, in a beach side cottage not far from a little town? Even better! However there could also be one tiny little problem with getting to share a bed with the love of your life for three months, If the prideful blond hair hot head failed to mention that he's a life long bed wetter. This was the sad fact facing Shoto as he woke up for the fifth morning in a row soaked by his boyfriends urine. The more powerful (in terms of raw power as well as muscles) teen scowled at Katsuki as the blond was still blissfully unaware of what he had done, snoring softly and sucking on his thumb. Grabbing his pillow Shoto was tempted, sorely tempted to whack the blond in the face with it, but instead held his breath and counted back from 10 before replacing it. "Wake up doofus. you soaked the bed. again." Shoto said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. Katsuki snorted and slowly opened his eyes. "hmm what? Nggh.." and turned over, tugging his pillow over his head. "Five more minutes mommy." he said in a sleepy voice. Shoto smirked at that, but reached over and grabbed the pillow. "I'm not your mommy, and you need to get up. We're taking care of this today bed wetter." he said, though he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. Katsuki grumble and then opened his eyes, sitting up in bed and yawning, then froze. "I..I Uh.." he stammered, quickly realizing that he was in the pee soaked bed. "You wet the bed. I know. come up, Outta bed, I need to get the mattress out to dry. Again." Shoto said. "M-Maybe it wasn't me! you ever think maybe YOUR the one pissing the bed like a fucking toddler?" Katsuki huffed, blushing but scooting out of the bed all the same. "Really? I'm not even gonna dignify that with a answer. go get in the shower." Shoto said, rolling his eyes. "..Yeah ok." Katsuki said and scurried off. Shoto sighed and got out of bed, the poor mattress had been new but already was doomed to be pee stained for the rest of it's life. Stripping the blankets and sheets off of the soaked bed, he walked to the washing machine by the bathroom, glad to hear Katsuki was showering and stuffed the soiled bedding as well as his own soaked shorts in the machine, then noticed that Katsuki had 'thoughtfully' left his pissy PJ bottoms out for him. '..At least he's not trying to hide them till they stink the place up.' Shoto thought and added them to the wash and started up the load, before moving in to join his boyfriend in the shower.

After a nice hot shower, with some nice hot love making, Both boys were dressed and clean, and sitting down to enjoy a breakfast. Shoto was having toast and egg, while Katsuki was finishing off his box of Cap'n Crunch. "we're gonna need to go into town today." Katsuki said between mouthful's, milk dribbling down his chin but at least he was leaning over the bowl so his light green muscle shirt was getting milk stained. Shoto meanwhile was in a loose white t-shirt and both boys were rocking tan shorts and black sandals. "I was going into town anyways. and you're coming with me." Shoto said, carefully finishing ff the last of his food. "oh, what we getting? we're good for food otherwise..heh." Katsuki got a impish look on his face. "Unless you wanted ta check out that sex shop i pointed out last time you horn do-" "Oh for the love of..No. we're getting you bed time diapers." Shoto cut Katsuki off. the blond choked on his last spoon full of cereal and when he could speak glared at Shoto. "No.Fucking.Way!" he growled. "This isn't up for debate. You can either come with me willing, and have a say on what brand of diapers I get you, or you can go over my lap and get a spanking and be put on time out till I get back." Shoto said, and finished the last of his coffee, silently daring Katsuki to try and call his bluff. The fact of the matter was, Shoto had learned quickly that the only way to calm the brat down when he got going, was a good old fashion trip over a knee. (well actually, it had been Katsuki's mother who had let him in on it) "..Your a butt you know that? a total, farty BUTT!" was all the blond said. "mmmhmm. Do the dishes up while I put the mattress out on the railing to dry." Shoto said and got up and started to leave the room. "and flip me off again and I'ma wash your mouth out. " he added, not even turning around. "...How does he fucking do that?" Katsuki muttered, quickly lowering his hand, and getting the dishes gathered up from the table.

with each boys chore down, they headed into town, walking since it was just a five minute walk. or at least it normally was. Katsuki had decided to stage a silent protest of sorts by going as slow as he could, and it took them a full fifteen minutes to get to the all-mart. "Keep pressing your luck and I'll get a stroller for the walk back." Shoto warned the brat. "You don't have the BALLS to tr-" Katsuki started, and quickly faltered, looking down at the ground. "Y-Yeah ok." Shoto wished that he hadn't of made the threat as Katsuki was even more sulky now. Hoping maybe the bed wetter's attuide would improve with a little bit of a delay in getting his bed wetting pants, Shoto steered the cart to the grocery side of the store first. "...I wanna get more then just Cap'n Crunch." Katsuki spoke up as they came up to the cereal aisle. "Oh? "I want candy. LOTS of it." Shoto smirked, it was more or less sounding like the bed wetter had offered up a price of sorts if he was gonna have to get the bed wetting pants. "I think we can swing that. though you're not eating it all at once. last thing I want is you bouncing off the walls." "Oh come on! I'm not THAT bad!" "Remember what happened on Easter? the foot prints on your mother's ceiling?" Shoto asked. "W-well that was uh..you know..I got a big bag of those cream eggs..and..i didn't want them to melt..and Mom didn't have any room in the fridge!" Katsuki huffed, blushing. "That's not how I remember it..but fine. we'll go with your version of events. just not a lot at once, OK?" Shoto offered, smirking. "Yeah fine. Whatever!" Katsuki sulked. "Get the Cap'n crunch, I'll get the candy."   and with that he took off and Shoto just knew the brat would be coming back with a armful of sweets. "he's lucky he's amazing in the sack." he muttered, and wheeled toward the Cap'n Crunch.

Coming around the corner after getting the brat his cereal, and picking up a ag of coffee for himself, Shoto just smirked seeing Katsuki coming back towards him, arm's fulled with big bags of mini chocolate bars, cream eggs and the like. 'And in accordance with the prophecy..' he thought but kept his mouth shut. "Did you leave anything on the shelf for others?" Shoto teased. "heh, yeah, but not for lack of trying." Katsuki said then noticed the coffee in the cart. "Ick, why do you drink that stuff when we have chocolate syrup and milk at home?" "because a certain sweet tooth glares at me when i go to use any." Shoto teased. "heh. well you got me there. Alright, let's go and pay for this and get back home." Katsuki said quickly, starting to head for the check outs and reaching back to tug on the cart. "Nice try. we still have something else to pickup." Shoto said. "Come on, give me ONE more chance!" Katsuki whined. "If I thought that would really make a difference I would. now come on." Shoto said and started to head towards the pharmacy end of the store. "..This is bullshit! get them if you want, but I'll be waiting outside!" Katsuki growled and started to stomp his way out of the store, drawing attention from other customers. Katsuki Bakugo, you get your butt back here right this instant or I'm putting all of your candy back!" Shoto threatened. "I'm NOT going and getting stupid diapers with you! Diapers are for babies and I DON'T FUCKING NEED THEM!" Katsuki yelled, apparently unaware of all the people looking at them as he stomped a foot but was turning and facing Shoto. At least he was unaware till a teenaged girl started to snicker. "YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY BITCH?!" Katsuki growled, spinning around to face her, and Shoto moved quick. Grabbing Katsuki by the ear he gave the boy a firm swat across the butt. "little man, that is eno-" He started, talking over the yowl from Katsuki, but even then he was cut off as a loud thunder poot escaped from the blonds backside. "..Katsuki when was the last time you-" Shoto started to asked. Katsuki's bowels were a fickle thing, and the boy could go for days without a movement, but when it was ready to come out, he had little to NO warning time. "i..I.." Katsuki whined, and then with a crackling poot the back of his shorts started to darken and blossom out. "N-Nooooo!" Katsuki whimpered and whined, but was helpless to do anything as days worth of heavy food destroyed his briefs and weren't doing the shorts any favor either. the crowd was watching with mixed reactions, though most was amusement, at least until the smell hit them. and a few were just shocked at the mass growing in the back of the boys pants. Shoto should of felt bad for him, but given he'd been acting like a total brat and he was positive had been about to use his quirk on that girl, he was all out of mercy. "great, Just great. it's not enough that your wetting the bed every night, now your pooping your pants too?" Shoto asked, hands on his hips. "I..But..I.." Katsuki whined. "that's it mister man, we're going and getting diapers alright, and NOT just for night time! and I'm putting that candy back, clearly junk food is the last thing you need." Picking Katsuki up and carrying the mortified blond over to the cart, Shoto was sure that the blond knew what coming from the little bit of a fight he was able to put up. It didn't do him any good though as Shoto sat him down with a loud squish in the baby seat of the cart. "MAYBE if you watch your mouth and behave, I MIGHT let you keep the cream eggs. but your on thin ice mister." Shoto said and shook a finger at Katsuki who whimper and started to bawl, even as the crowd started to clap and cheer in approval. "one last thing, Say sorry to everyone." Shoto said, and stepped aside,. Katsuki sobbed and hiccuped, and though teary eyes looked at the crowd. "I.I'm sowwy." he lisped babyishly. The crowd loved it.

After that Shoto wheeled the cart to the pharmacy area and picked up not one, not two, but three of the extra thick overnight diapers that the store carried, as well as getting some baby bottles and a package of pacifiers. Katsuki started to wail loudly at that point so Shoto, after getting permission from a employee, opened the pack of paci and popped one in the smelly teens mouth. part of the crowd had followed them, since well they didn't really get much excitement and this beat the re runs that were playing on TV at the moment anyways. As Katsuki suckled on it and whined, a chuckle spread though the crowd. Shoto also got permission to open one of the packs of diapers and was allowed to use the usually employee's only bathroom to get the little stinker changed. the crowd helped up somewhat, offering to take back the candy as Katsuki got changed and Shoto just reminded them to leave a bag of the cream eggs for Katsuki, he had been behaved so far since going poopie. Getting Katsuki in the bathroom, Shoto shook his head. "I hope you understand you brought this ALL on yourself. if you hadn't of dragged your feet, or had all your little fits we'd of been home by now." he said, tugging the stinkers shorts off and tossing them in a trash bin. Katsuki wisely kept his paci in, and nodded, but reached for his short futilely as they went though the air into the trash can. "no no, those shorts are ruined buddy. and I'm NOT buying you a new pair. you'll be waddling home in diapers." Shoto said, smirking and Katsuki laid on his back on the cold floor, fists going to his eyes and rubbing them as he suckled and whimpered big time. Katsuki's lucky Ultra-man briefs were all but ruined and Katsuki paused in his crying to look down, then up at Shoto and shake his head no. "Buddy, their ruined.I have to toss them." Shoto said. Katsuki shook his head no again and brought his hands together, pleading. "-sigh- alright..alright..you can keep them.. but I'm not carrying them." Shoto said, and then smirked as he took out a diaper. "Butt up." Katsuki got a confused look on his face and pointed at his poopie undies. "Yeah I know. they're still poopie. you wanna keep'em, you can wear them under your diaper, and YOU can wash them in the sink wen we get home." Shoto said. Katsuki wrinkled his nose and shook his head no, going to hook his thumb in the waistband. "No no no, You made your case, and won. enjoy the fruit of success." Shoto said and gently but firmly moved the brat's hands away. "Now butt up." Katsuki started whimpering again even as he lifted his butt up and plopped back down with a squish on the soft diaper, and whined as Shoto started to sprinkle him with baby powder , then just took the top off of the container and dumped half of it in. "Don't wanna get attacked by a hoard of fly's on the way home." Shoto explained. Taping the diaper up, Shoto helped Katsuki get to his feet and laughed at how cute and ridiculous the now big baby look, his legs bowed out and he was clearly having trouble walking, doing a weird baby learning to walk waddle. As they started to head for the door, Shoto noticed that there was a black marker on a clip board on the door, for checking off a list of things to be cleaned and smirked. "Hold it a second stinker." he said, grabbing the marker and then getting behind Katsuki, kneeling down and writing. 'Warning! Poopie diaper! (sorry about the smell)' Putting the cap back on the marker and replacing it, Shoto lead the big baby out.

Their groceries, the ones they were keeping, had been taken up to a checkout as for obvious reasons the cart had to be cleaned, and the crowd chuckled and laughed, with some people even snapping pictures as Katsuki was lead, Holding daddies hand, to the check out. everything was scanned in fact save for the bag of cream eggs and the clerk gave Shoto a question look, smirking at the same time as Katsuki wiped his arm over his eyes and looked at Shoto hopefully. "oh..I suppose. I'm just a big softie." Shoto said and leaned down, kissing the big babies head. Paying for the groceries and heading out the door with Shoto carrying the heavier stuff and Katsuki the light stuff, and the big babies hand in daddies, Shoto realized that his summer vacation was going to be even better then he could of dreamed, if not a little more smelly.

The end

[hazbincalifornia]

Stuck

Chapter 13: Blitzo gets stuck.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Warnings: Mpreg

Ao3 link

“If you take a picture, I’m firing you.”

“Aww, it's not that bad. You have to find the humor in every situation, right?”

“Kind of hard to, right now.” Blitzo pushed at the wood again, and again just dug splinters into his sides. He swore his middle was pulsing, it felt warmer than usual but he hadn't dug in deep enough to be bleeding. “This kid is coming out on a skewer.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you out before then.” Moxxie’s tail flicked irritably, but a smirk was starting to spread across his face, and Blitzo wanted to rip it off by any means necessary, temper boiling his blood.

“Ha ha. Laugh at the pregnant guy. Jackasses.” He kicked his boots, but was no closer to getting out than he had been two minutes ago.

“I’ll go see if the target has any butter.” Millie paused. “Or lube.”

“Not how I thought I’d be hearing you talk about lube,” Blitzo muttered.

It had been a relatively simple job. A boss who’d overworked their client, and the client blamed his heart attack and overeating on the stress. The door had been bolted shut when they’d tried it, but part of it was under construction, so Moxxie and Millie had climbed in through the window and Blitzo had tried to wiggle through an exposed hole covered with a tarp.

It had been… smaller than it looked. Millie’s hips definitely would have gotten stuck. Just his luck, he wanted to try the cool spy way to get in and his new gut got him wedged between ‘inside’ and ‘outside’. Plus, the client had said that the boss had bragged about his extensive gun collection, so they couldn’t just shoot Blitzo out and risk waking the guy up until he was restrained.

“Now, what have we learned about judging size?” Moxxie crouched down, and his grin had spread further across his freckled cheeks like an infection.

“Eat my ass, Moxx.” Blitzo planted his boots on the crunchy grass outside. “At least I’ve got it where it counts, 2-inch motherfucker.”

The imp blushed scarlet. “That’s- that’s not true and you know it! You- you-” He kept sputtering, and Blitzo bared his teeth in a smirk.

“Fine. Prove it to me.”

Moxxie steeled himself and  stood back up. “I’m going to go take care of the target, you can wait here alone.”

“C’mon, I’m just fucking with- dammit.” And there went Moxxie too. Well, this was just peachy. Blitzo drummed his fingers on the floor, waiting for one of them to return. This one was supposed to be a poisoning, with pictures, so it was going to take at least ten minutes.

At least it wasn’t cold. His shirt had gotten pulled up in the getting-stuck process, so his bare midriff was exposed to the thankfully lukewarm air. (Not to mention it had been pulling up every time he so much as twitched from being too tight lately...) It’d just be a cherry on the cake if he was freezing his ass off on top of said ass being exposed to any particularly curious or perverted onlooker.

He had another meeting with Stolas tomorrow. The owl’d definitely be eager to know about the kid moving- Blitzo had kept it quiet over their calls just to tell him in person. Was it weird that he wanted to see the look on his face? If he got all pissy about it probably not being an owl because it wasn’t in an egg, though, Blitzo was… was…

Wasn’t like there was much he could actually do, honestly, but he was sure as shit going to be annoyed about it. Little bastard was already starting to squirm up a storm every time Blitzo ate anything. They reeeeeeeally seemed to like meat. Not just human meat, although that was a favorite and it was nice he had an easy supply, but bacon, burgers, ham sandwiches...

“Found some!” Millie blinked, holding a yellow bottle of... something. “Where’s Moxxie?”

“Went to finish the overtiming rat off.” Blitzo made a ‘gimme’ motion. “What’d you get?”

“Spray butter! The kinds of things humans invent…” She clicked her tongue, popping the cap off and giving a few squirts as there was a yelp in the other room.

“Millie!”

“Coming!” She glanced over at Blitzo. “He might be a big guy, I’ll go-”

“Yeah, yeah, go help.” Blitzo motioned for her to give him the spray, and she tossed it over to him before sprinting over to the bedroom. He could squirt his own spray-butter.

It took half the damn bottle before either side gave, and Blitzo almost collapsed on his front before realizing that would squash junior. He flopped over on his side instead, yanking up his now-greasy shirt to glare at the bump. “This is your fault, you know.”

The bump didn’t respond for a few seconds, then made a little nudge outwards. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that some of that is soft.” He poked his side. “I didn’t say you could make me get fat enough to get stuck in a goddamn wall. You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you? Need soooooo much attention, like your bird-daddy.”

He hunched over himself in sullen silence, massaging his sore stomach until Moxxie and Millie returned. Moxxie was drying his hands on a towel. “So, you managed to get out?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Well, you did okay,” Moxxie said, clearly still a little snippy about the earlier dick-size comment.

“I got the pictures he wanted!” Millie waved her phone.

“Good, so we can count this as a success other than the splinters.” Blitzo pushed himself up, stretching before rummaging around in his jacket for his phone. “He make any funny faces?”

“We might have overdone the cyanide- he looked like he had a beard, it was foaming so much!” Millie laughed, flipping through the pictures like a scrapbook, and Blitzo grinned.

“Niiiice. And neither of you got your brains bashed out, I see.”

“He was a heavy sleeper- I managed to get him mostly tied up before he woke up,” Moxxie said. “He was a pretty skinny guy, it wasn’t hard.”

“Good Moxxie.” Blitzo ruffled Moxxie’s hair. “I’d hate to lose my weenie-dicked wonder.”

Moxxie’s eye twitched. “Sir, were it not for the-”

“Oooh, in this one it looks like he’s smiling!” Millie pushed her phone at Moxxie, who sighed before looking, mouth twitching up in a bit of a smile.

“Huh, he really does.”

Blitzo texted Loona to open the portal for them, but until she did, they ended up just huddled over Millie’s phone, looking through the pictures both of the kill and of whatever random things she’d happened to take pictures of in the last week, including several blurry shots of Moxxie’s butt that he tried to cover the screen for instead of letting Blitzo see.

Even though he was stuck rubbing lotion on his middle for half an hour after they got back, Blitzo counted it as a good day.