#but i thought i would sneak in and fill up my water . a fool i was

[dykefever]

mouse just ran over my foot in the bathroom. goodnight

[wishuroses]

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 𓇼 make a wish, spider soccoro.

✶ pairings: spider x sully!reader

✶ warnings: fluff, lovesick fools, confessions, reader is a cutiepie and spider agrees wholeheartedly, you fell first he fell harder type deal, uppercase intended!

✶ word count: 854

✶ na’vi glossary: tawtute – human.

✶ a/n: i remember seeing a post asking for more spider fics, so i thought why not feed all my spider lovers out there? i’ve also been breathing down jack champions neck a lot recently (he is so fine) happy reading! :-)

“C’mon Spi, keep up!”

“Ugh. I’m trying, your legs are too long!”

The forest glowed beautifully beneath your feet with every step you took, pointed ears fluttering from the echoed sounds of chittering flora and fauna. You and Spider had fallen into the steady, yet risky rhythm of sneaking out past eclipse; disregarding the fact that your mother would skin him and then knot your tail right after if she ever caught both of you out, alone for that matter. Yet you–stubborn and hardheaded– never listened to what your mother had to say, easily blocking out her irritated hisses of frustration when you openly expressed your interest in the little tawtute.

Little did you know, that little tawtute also took interest in you. Much more than you did him, for that matter.

You giggled at his exasperated comment, looking over your shoulder and flicking your eyes downward to find that he is, indeed, struggling to catch up with you. Spider was, for a fact, small compared to your lithe 7ft frame, but if you plopped him next to the rest of the sky people, he beats at least a handful of them in the height department.

“Want me to carry you?” You asked genuinely, coming to a complete halt as you watched him trail beside you carefully. Spider scoffed at your silly question, not missing the way his heart rattled in his chest at the fact that you cared for him, looking up at you with mirth and adoration shining in his eyes. “No need for that, not yet at least. We’re here anyway.”

At his words, you craned your neck to look around, beads thudding together in a chorus at the sudden movement, a smile blooming on your face as quick as it came. The familiar stream of crystal clear water and shroud of colorful flora confirming that you both were here. Your secret spot.

“Look Spider, look!” You stretched your arm and pointed a strong finger towards the darkened sky, tracing over the rushing streak of light that ran across the horizon. “Make a wish!”

He turned his full attention to you with a furrowed brow, tilting his head. “Make a what?” Like a moth to a flame, he leaned into you, happily taking in your presence.

“A wish! It’s just.. something you really want that you don’t already have. Something you long for. Dad said it was a tawtute tradition! Make one, quickly!” Spider hummed in understanding, watching you with a lovesick expression etched on his face. His eyes traced over your wide eyes filled with astonishment, twinkling stars reflecting off adored pools of honey.

“Well..” Spider paused and licked his chapped lips, “What if it’s.. someone I long for?” His palpating heart only increased violently when you locked eyes with him, the pretty smile on your face only widening further, gasping softly at his bashful confession.

You shuffled closer to the boy, warm thighs pressed against each other. “Spider,” You cooed, proud of him for finding a person to give his heart to, “You like someone? Who, who!” You wrapped your four-fingered hand around his forearm, tugging at it with excitement. “You must tell me!” He flushed strawberry pink, dipping his chin down to shy away from the intensity of your gaze–making a pout form on your face.

“C’mon, I won’t tell! Swear it!”

Spider then looked at you with a playful grin, heart soaring like a multitude of shooting stars when you quickly reciprocated his grin. He exhaled, and with a random surge of confidence, he intertwined his hand with yours, the obvious difference in size making it quite tricky–but he made it work.

You wonder how much he needed to hype himself up to go through with going so far as to hold your hand–he’s never been this bold, up until now, at least.

You looked at your entangled hands with raised eyebrows, wide, curious eyes flickering back to stare into his softened brown ones. Spider nodded briskly, answering your wordless question with a nervous look on his face. In your eyes, he looked slightly constipated–like he was worried about what your reaction would be– and if you two weren’t tangled up in each other, you would’ve laughed at him.

But realistically, in your eyes, he was the prettiest he could ever be. You smiled, eyes forming crescent moons.

As if you two hadn’t already popped your personal space bubbles, you scooted even closer, leaning your forehead over the sleek glass of his exopack. Spider never wanted to kiss you more than he did now–to press his lips against your face, trailing down to your neck, and onto the expanse of your striped tummy, all while thumbing gentle circles into the jut of your hips. He found you so beautiful, no words could ever suffice.

“My wish..” Spider started breathlessly after a long beat of silence. Your ears flicked forward to selfishly take in his next words, watching as his pupils dilate the more he took in your appearance, eyes already so brown that if you didn’t have such good eyesight–you would’ve missed it.

“My wish is you.”

[maxybabyy]

loosely inspired by that dropout prompt of having sex at abstinence-camp.

His face prickles under the hot sun.

It’s been like this since he arrived at camp. Daniel itchy from the heat, face flushed like he hasn’t been using SPF 50 twice daily. Waking up feeling raw, tender in a way he hasn’t before. His temper is fucked too, he reckons, feels probably like a live wire would – jittery, shaky.

“Daniel,” Max says, voice soft as he tugs on his arm. “What is this? I thought – always Wednesday we are in the kayaks. I have even my vest here already. What will we do indoors?”

Daniel looks at him, at the bright pink vest stretched across his chest. His shoulders are burnt, skin flaky where Daniel had rubbed in the aloe vera. His sheets smell of it now, and he thinks, maybe, that’s part of it too – why he feels like this, sensitive. Allergic to that too, probably.

“No worries, Maxy. I will take lead on this, just. Watch,” Daniel tells him, shakes him off as he walks to the front.

Behind him, Max purses his lips but he falls into step quickly.

“Alright, everyone! Listen up and gather round,” Daniel calls out. He hauls the box of pamphlets up from the floor and shoves a handful into Max’s hands, makes him pass them out. “Find a seat and fill your glass with water.”

They like for them to keep it fresh, trying out new ways to show it so the kids won’t become bored. Last year they had done tape on the arm, the year before that, paper balls. But Daniel thinks this will work too.

“Daniel, what does this mean, danger zone?” Max asks, a frown etched deep in his brows. He hasn’t handed out the pamphlets yet, eyes skimming across the front of one. “HIV – Daniel, if you are worried about this, you should of course give them condoms and tell them to be safe. This will not help them.”

“Today, we are going to be talking about your flower,” Daniel says, pulling the pamphlets from Max’s hands and placing them in the middle, ready for them to be taken, shared. “As you can see, you should all have a glass of water in front of you –“

He knows it’s the first year Max is with them, that he had come without any experience, a recommendation from his youth group even. But he had fit in well, stuck to Daniel like they had been mates for years.

There had been a flood the first week in, tore down the cabin that Max had been in charge of. So they had squeezed together in Daniel’s bed instead. Obviously like, Daniel had offered to sleep in reverse, with his head in the foot end, so they wouldn’t touch dicks. But Max had told him, “I will sleep like this, then you of course can be behind me,” and so that’s what they had done.

Only once had it been like, weird.

Daniel had been dreaming about this hot-ass, blonde beach babe, with like, short hair and her nipples out, the swell of her tits barely there as they fooled around on the shore. She had been reaching into his shorts with nice, warm hands – built for tennis, maybe. Or like, paddle, probably – when Daniel had woken up and come in his pants.

Max had watched him sneak back into bed, blue eyes sharp in the dark, and the shame Daniel had felt – hot, persistent, raw – still hasn’t washed away.

“And when you tip it over – go ahead, tip it over! Careful not to smash the glass,” instructs Daniel now, ignoring the way Max hovers behind him. Water flows from the cups, soaking the tables. Only one pair manages to break the glass, but Max is there like a hawk, nudging them away before cleaning it up.

“Now take your cup – Billy, Jody, join up with someone else – and try to put the water back into it.”

The room blooms with frustration, water sloshed onto the floor, and another glass shatters. And even then, the glasses stay empty. Forever changed by one small misstep.

“See how it won’t go back in? That’s what losing your virginity is like,” Daniel says before stepping back. He knows the in-group conversation is more important than anything he can tell them, the quiet reflection. To put it into perspective.

“Daniel, this is of course so silly,” Max says, almost directly into his ear. Daniel shivers from the shock, pulls his shoulders to his ears. “Always you can just put more water in, and no one will know,” he says, pouring water from the bottle into Daniel’s cup.

“See? It looks full again.”

Daniel frowns, looks at the cup that does, remarkedly, look like it did before. “Obviously that’s not the point, Max. It’s not the same. You can never put the water back into the –“

“What is virginity, Daniel? The cup or the water?”

“Obviously it is –“ Daniel says, scoffs at him. He feels the flush of frustration tear through him, how it makes the tips of his fingers buzz, his knees weak with defeat. His chest feels – weird. Like his heart is beating from somewhere else, his throat maybe, or his head, loud in his ears even.

“What does it matter? If it’s the cup or the water. It’s an analogy, Max!”

The worst part is, Max doesn’t even look upset. Confused, maybe, but there’s no part of him that looks the way Daniel feels right now. Hot and bothered, angry at the world, at Max.

“Well, it’s a shit analogy then,” Max says and smirks, and for a second, Daniel hates him.

“How the fuck would you know?”

They’re supposed to be partners, is the thing. Daniel had asked, told the boss to switch the pairs around, to make Max his mate. And the summer had become all the better for it.

Max likes all the same shit as him: racing karts and skinny dipping at night when the kids are asleep. He touches Daniel like they’re best friends, wrestles him to the ground and doesn’t get up until he says uncle. Even the shit he doesn’t care about, he pretends to like for Daniel’s sake.

Once, Daniel had like, sprained his wrist falling from one of the trees. It had been right around his birthday too, and Daniel had felt like shit, side-lined from all the activities. Max had found him in the cabin, eyes wet with tears, homesick. And he had just – laid down next to him, held his hand and told him about home until Daniel’s heart had felt light and free.

Now he sucks in a breath to calm himself. But in the end, it doesn’t even matter, because Max tugs on his arm as soon as Daniel looks at him, curls his hand around his elbow and says, “Daniel, I am of course not a virgin.”

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 2: Clean | Read Chapter 1: Bad Blood!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - MATURE ((for now, but there WILL BE explicit stuff later sooo (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: STRONG WARNING: Voyeurism under threat of violence (not Ezra). Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, ofc, especially sexual tension out the wahzoo. Adult language. Alotta feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Fighting. Insults, Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he’s about at 75.4% in this chapter). If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary!: The morning after your realization about your feelings for the prospector, you decide to take some time to yourself to get your thoughts in order.

A/N: REWRITTEN & REFORMATTED ON: 12/25/23

******

“The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud

But no one heard a thing…”

The next morning, you’re up earlier than usual. None of the prospectors should be awake. Only a damned fool would be up before the shift starts. Which you suppose, you are right now. Still, you suit up and put on your glass helmet, charging your thrower and checking that your radio signal is working.

Your mind is still reeling from the interaction between you and Ezra last night. And even more so from your realization. You don’t hate Ezra. You like him. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Yet, you can’t deny it. Not after last night.

You leave your tent and take a quick look around to make sure no one’s up and about before you walk away from the campsite, being quick and quiet. The sky above you is still pitch black, the two suns only beginning to kiss the horizon. The cool of the night and quiet of the forest makes for a perfect opportunity to sneak away while your colleagues are still sleeping away in their tents.

You have no idea where you're going, and you don't really care. You just need some time to think. After last night, you're suddenly afraid of what you might say or do if you see Ezra again. So the best decision you can make right now is to just get away. You’re good with hostile confrontations with Ezra, that’s been made clear, but this one you truly are ill-equipped for. You know you feel this way. But is it possible Ezra knows too? You’re honestly not sure and you don’t care. Right now you just need some time to think. 

Alone.

So you make your way through the woods and find a site that’s isolated but still close enough to camp. You don't have to go far to find a small clearing with a sturdy-looking tree. This is a perfect spot, one that will leave you undisturbed. You can already feel a certain level of peace wash over you now that you've put a significant distance between yourself and the others. You lean against the tree, allowing its sturdy bark to provide you with support for your weary body. The silence fills the air around you, calm and peaceful.

You're still not sure why you feel so drawn to Ezra. He's hardly been civil to you. He's arrogant and insulting and… likable. You frown and try to make sense of why you feel so drawn to him when you shouldn’t! You’re not friends, hardly acquaintances. He’s smug and annoying and completely irritating.

But still, you couldn't help but feel something last night when he got close to you. You could feel your pulse race. Something unlike anything you've ever felt before, and it was… good. Even now you can still feel your pulse beating out of control, the blood rushing through your veins from just thinking about it. What is this? You two are enemies. The idea of having feelings for him goes against everything you’ve become comfortable with in all your time as part of this crew. You try to calm your thoughts but it’s not working. You need to get your mind off of all this. You get up and decide to keep walking.

After some minutes, you’re much farther from camp, your preoccupied thoughts carrying you with more haste than you realized. You’re already sweating in your suit, even with how dark it still is out. Even at night, there’s little relief from the heat of this planet. It's almost like a vacuum for it. This environment was notorious for droughts, and even with the cooling apparatus in your suit, the heat and drought have been the worst parts of this expedition so far, absolutely brutal. 

There’s a rock formation you’re approaching and you charge your thrower and aim it carefully in case there’s anything behind it, walking around the formation with great caution. On the other side, you find a pool of water. Freshwater. It’s a natural body, and the dark water is almost like a mirror as you approach it. Using your toxicity meter, you find that it’s pure, without any toxic chemicals. You’re not one for public indecency but this area seems closed off, hidden. 

So, you strip down to your undergarments before you can think twice about it, suddenly desperate for relief from the heat and your racing mind. You dive into the water, the cold of it being just the shock you need to get all your thoughts to stop. As you break through the surface with a quiet gasp, your body instantly contracts as a reaction to the frigid temperature but by the time the initial shock wears off you can already feel it helping clear your head and calm your nerves. You feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, at least for a moment. 

Nothing else seems to matter, and when you open your eyes to look up at the sky, you realize how beautiful this little corner of the forest is. It's a reminder that you've never been anywhere so peaceful. There’s no rush, no danger. You wish you could stay here forever. You let your body float on top of the water as you enjoy this moment of peace and silence. The only sounds are those of forest life and your own heartbeat. It’s such a drastic change from the constant thrum of the prospectors. You find yourself enjoying the solitude. For a few minutes, you really feel completely relaxed.

That is until the sound of something rustling in the bushes behind you fills the silence. Your heart stops in your chest. You turn around carefully, and as you suspected, someone's there. Someone or something. You look for your thrower but of course, it’s back on the grass along with your clothes, piled a few feet away. All of a sudden you feel extremely vulnerable. You can only let your body dip under the water, only keeping your head above it as you tense and prepare to fight with your hands if need be, your eyes fixated on where the sound came from.

Your instinct proves to be correct, and seconds later you see a figure slink out of the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, the fear on your face surely visible to your attacker. But something makes your pulse slow for a second and your eyes suddenly go wide as recognition washes over you. He's right in front of you, and you get a better look at his face through his glass helmet. Ezra. He looks at you calmly, and as he steps closer the expression on his face turns from pensive indifference to one of playful amusement instantly.

“What the hell?” You hiss. “Ezra, what in Kevva’s name are you doing here?” You snap, keeping your body under the water and out of his view as you grow hyper-aware that you’re very underdressed right now. Ezra shrugs his shoulders, his face still betraying no fear or concern whatsoever.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ezra says as if your sudden profanity is the most normal thing in the world. Which, when it comes to him, it is. He crosses his arms and steps a little closer, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What are you doin’ out here at this time of dawn? Shouldn’t you be sleepin’, just like all our other comrades?”

“It’s almost sunrise, jagoff.” You retort. “Did you get so drunk last night that you’ve lost track of time?” You ask him. “It would certainly explain your weirdo behavior last night.” He obviously wasn’t drunk, but how else to explain how he was acting? Besides, now that you’ve seen the cigarettes, you’ve no doubt that he’s likely got other contraband he shouldn't have somewhere in his tent. Ezra’s smile grows wider, and you swear he’s holding in a laugh. He steps closer, coming within less than a foot of you. Your face is hot and you’ve never felt so exposed and vulnerable.

“Does it look like I was drunk?” he asks, his smile still playing at the corner of his lips. He tilts his head to try and get a better look at you, his gaze lingering on your body for a few seconds. There’s a shift in his eyes as he does so and your body grows burning under his stare, despite the chill of the water. “Not to mention this is hardly normal,” he says, gesturing to your less-than-ideal state of undress. You glower at him, dipping your body even lower under the water keeping your chin just above it, as if that would help at all.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” You respond, snark, but it doesn’t have that same bite your responses usually do, as he clearly has you one-upped right now. Ezra's smirk only grows to an infuriating degree.

“Is someone embarrassed?” He asks, his face betraying only a brief glimpse of amusement before he manages to collect himself and go back to the way he was before. You’re trying to be angry but you just can’t help but feel a little bit flattered by a look from Ezra. You shouldn’t feel this way, you know you shouldn’t. You’ve never met someone who speaks and carries themselves so well. As if he were above everyone else. But why do you kind of like that?

“Embarrassed??” You say with a sudden burst of bravado you don’t actually feel. “Why the hell would I be embarrassed around you?” You ask him. Ezra nods and smiles slightly as you put up a more confident front.

“Because you should be embarrassed,” Ezra says bluntly. “You look like you’re about to slip out of your underwear.” He gives you a little wink and a smirk, his voice dripping with an air of confidence. He speaks with a cadence that makes every sentence sound like a flirtatious invitation, a taunt made to make you feel small. And for some reason, it always works on you.

“So what?? What are you, 14??” You ask. “Or have you just never seen a naked woman before?” You ask mockingly. Ezra rolls his eyes now.

“No, I’ve certainly seen women before, but usually in much more… pleasurable circumstances.” He smiles, letting that little add-on at the end linger for a beat before he continues, “Plus, most of them don’t like to be seen naked, especially by someone they barely know,” Ezra says, raising an eyebrow at you. You feel embarrassed as he gives you a knowing look, the corner of his mouth turning up at the corners. It’s clear he’s enjoying his ability to make you feel flustered. But… the feeling you get in return is somehow both infuriating and addictive. You want to slap him. You hate him. 

“Yeah well, you’re not the first prospector to see me naked. And I don’t get intimidated by men who mean nothing to me.” You respond, letting your shoulder rise above the water. “Now, how about you turn back the way you came and let me finish my swim in peace, hm?” Ezra’s smile grows even wider as he takes a step back and raises an eyebrow again. 

“Better yet, how about this, rook? How about I join you?” He asks, the hiss of his helmet releasing its airlock as he removes it from his shoulders interrupting you. You stop and turn around to face him.

“What?? No, this is my watering hole. I was here first!” You protest.

“And so?” He scoffs, already unlacing his boots. “I don’t exactly see your name on it, rook, and even so, nature belongs to no one individual, ain’t that right?” He asks rhetorically with a smug grin that makes you want to slap him. You can’t argue with that, so you don’t, just glaring at him and watching as he strips down to his boxers. This is the barest you've ever seen him, so used to seeing him in his suit or just in lounging clothes on your days off, the few you have out here. He’s actually not bad-looking. Not at all. You don’t realize you’ve been ogling him, but he notices just as he stands upright again. He grins.

“Enjoyin’ the view, rookie?” He teases, walking over to the pool’s edge. You snap out of it and roll your eyes immediately, swimming further away from him, both to make room and also to keep a good distance between you two.

“Please,” You respond. “Like I said, vet, you mean nothing to me, just like those other jerks who took a peek at me.” You mutter back as you turn to face him. He grins and does a smooth dive into the pool, no doubt feeling the same freezing cold you felt. When he rises, he’s closer, but still keeping a good distance from you as he grins.

“Tell me somethin’, rookie.'' He says, his voice dripping with smug arrogance. “I would love to know the names of these men who saw you naked and lived to talk about it,” Ezra says, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Piss off.” You mumble. “They were just a few assholes.” Ezra chuckles.

“Yes, you established that already,” he says sarcastically before laughing to himself. “But let’s make this interestin’. Give me a name or your swimmin’ session is over,” he says, leaning in again and staring into your eyes intently. There’s a new level of intensity in his eyes, a deep hunger that makes you think he might actually follow through with his threat. Why is he pushing this?

“Why do you want a name? What does it matter that one of those other jerks saw me naked, hm?” You ask.

“Oh, it certainly matters,” Ezra says with a low chuckle as he swims a little closer to you, about an arm’s length away. He stays quiet for a long moment as his eyes bore into yours. You almost think he’s not going to elaborate. But then he speaks, “Because I’m a jealous man,” he says slowly, his voice full of power and authority. The way he looks at you right now, the way he needs you right now, fills you with a strange combination of both fear and excitement. “And I don’t like the idea of some nothin’ jerk gettin’ to see you in such a vulnerable state,” he says, almost daring you to argue, even as his voice seems almost… sheepish to say this all.

His words shock you. He’s jealous. And he’s just said it out loud.

Your entire demeanor drops, that irritation and arrogance you feel always flare up around him is now replaced by shock. You can’t even respond to him, completely floored by his admission. Ezra smiles triumphantly, almost reveling in the power he has over you in that moment as his earlier sheepishness fades away. You have never seen him look so… relentless. He’s like a dog with a bone right now.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says slowly, his voice turning soft and sweet as he takes another step closer to you. “Who was he, rookie? What’s his name?” The intensity in his eyes is unnerving, more like the predatorial stare of a lion. This is the most you’ve ever seen him want anything, and right now he needs you to tell him. He’s not gonna let it go.

You sigh and move away from him, swimming to the other end of the pool, letting your upper body come out of the water, your undergarments clinging to your skin. Thankfully, you can stand upright in this shallow pool easily.

“It was a group alright?” You snap, annoyed as you begin to remember. You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. “I had just graduated from the Ephrate, only a few days as a prospector and I was finishing up my basic training at one of the apprentice camps on Central. This group of assholes ambushed me one morning while I was getting dressed for my shift.” You say, frowning and suddenly vulnerable as you open your eyes to glare at the water in front of you.

“They ambushed you?” Ezra asks, raising an eyebrow at you. The look on his face is almost impossible to describe. Part anger, part protectiveness. You’ve never seen him this way before. “What exactly did they do?” Ezra asks, his tone growing dark and demanding as he leans in closer.

You sigh again. “It was really in the morning… I had just gotten up. I was half asleep, my thrower was in its holster… I was just getting out of the refresher. I came out of there naked because I figured maybe I had just forgotten my clothes back in the main space. But when I come out… they’re all just sitting there… a group of about 3. One of them’s got his thrower aimed at me. But they never spoke, never moved. They just… watched.” A ripple of disgust goes through you at the memory. Ezra’s face twists into a snarl.

“Those sick bastards,” he says, and all the playfulness and arrogance is gone from his voice, instead replaced by a dark, grim seriousness that’s new to you. “And you didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself.” He shakes his head. The look on his face is also something you've never seen before. It almost looks like a combination of anger, sadness, and guilt. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and it looks like he's weighing his words very carefully as he looks off into the distance, as if still processing what you’ve told him.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks, his voice full of concern as his eyes meet yours again.

“No.” You respond honestly and there’s clear relief in your voice. “I couldn’t do anything, I just begged them to not hurt me, to not... you know. To please leave. It took…” you take a deep shuddering sigh as your eyes close, a clearly painful memory. “It took a lot of pleading. I was half-convinced they’d kill me. But eventually… they left.”

“Damn bastards,” Ezra snarls, a look of pure hatred on his face. “They’re lucky I wasn’t there,” he says, his voice full of determination. He takes a deep, steadying breath. It’s clear he’s trying very hard to contain himself right now. “Who were they?” he asks, his voice cold and sharp. He looks at you, his eyes full of a mixture of concern and anger. “Tell me. I’ll make sure they never hurt you again.”

“I don’t know.” You say. “I’ve never seen them again after that day. It’s like they just disappeared and it was so dark in the tent, I couldn’t make out their faces.” You add. “Believe me, I’ve committed that morning to memory, if I had gotten a good look at them and seen them out here, they’d be dead.” You say. Ezra nods slowly and you know he believes you, but he’s still stuck on this.

“They may be gone now, but do you remember anythin’ about them?? The way they spoke, the way they looked, anythin’ that would help me track them down?” His eyes are full of determination as if he's not going to rest until he finds these men and makes them pay. You've never seen this side of him before, and it's almost intimidating in its intensity.

“Track them down?” You ask, looking at him. “For what? It was just a few idiots who got a peek at me, it doesn't mean anything.” You say dismissively, though the pain in your eyes is obvious. Ezra scowls.

"'It doesn't mean anythin', my ass. No one gets away with somethin’ like that. Not on my watch." He leans in again, his face inches from yours. He looks almost frightening as he stares you down. You're not sure if he's serious or not, but he seems intent on finding these men. "Tell me anythin’ you remember about them. We'll find them, and I'll make them pay for what they did to you." You glare at him, suddenly angered by his attention to this. He may not mean it, but the way he’s acting, as if what happened was some sort of offense to him is infuriating you. 

“Listen to me, and listen to me good: No one gets to reopen my wound. No one. Not them, not me… and certainly not you.” Your voice is quiet and low, clearly a warning. You’re protecting yourself. You won’t go down that dark spiral again. You’re just barely getting over this incident and you won’t let yourself get pulled under it again. You’ve only just started to feel like you can be around men at all. Barely able to feel like you’ve got some semblance of control over yourself again. Ezra scowls, but he doesn't move. He stares at you angrily for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, finally, he sighs heavily.

"Fine," he says, folding his arms across his chest. "If that's what you want. But they're still out there. What if they do it to someone else? Can you live with that?"

“You think I haven’t considered that??” You snap, your eyes blazing as you look at him. “That’s one of the many scenarios that keeps me up at night. That haunts me. But what do you want me to do, huh?? Spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder??” You ask, your tone furious. Ezra shakes his head, his expression full of frustration. Then, after a few moments, he softens.

"No… of course not," he says, his voice much calmer and softer. "But those men deserve to be punished. They can't get away with hurtin’ you like that. They just... they can't." His voice sounds almost pleading now as if he's asking you for some kind of favor. Your heart softens a little, despite everything. Even though you’re still angry, you can't help but feel a little bit moved by his concern.

“They already did, Ezra.” You say, feeling defeated. “Besides, you don’t even like me.” You say and begin swimming over to the edge of the pool a few feet away. You lift yourself out of the water and onto the grass, taking a moment to gather yourself. He averts his eyes. After a moment, you stand up and look for your clothing, finding it right where you left it along with your boots. Ezra turns to watch you go in silence. He seems almost sad that this is how the conversation has ended. But then, suddenly, his expression darkens. He follows you out of the pool, letting the water drip off of him as he grabs his clothes, clearly realizing that this interaction is over. But he’s not done with this yet. He’s dressed faster than you and as you turn to leave, he steps forward and blocks your path.

"And who told you I don't like you?" he asks, "I never said anythin’ of the sort." His voice is calm and measured, but there's an intensity behind it that makes your heart race. You're not sure what to make of that.

“Oh blessed mother, Ezra.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You don’t like me, I don’t like you, that’s how this whole thing works.” You say, gesturing between you and him. Ezra sighs loudly, his frustration obvious. 

"So you're just goin’ to walk away, then?" he asks furiously. "After I just tried to help you?" He shakes his head, clearly disgusted by the thought. "I don't understand you sometimes, rookie. You're always so closed off. Why can't you just be honest for once in your life?" He says, almost pleading with you. "Why can't you just let yourself be vulnerable?" 

You whip around to face him. 

“You want me to be vulnerable??” You snap, marching towards him. “Fine. Leave me alone!” You shout. “I don’t owe you any explanation. We’re not friends, we’re not partners, we’re not a damned thing.” You say finally as you glare at him. Ezra stares at you, almost shocked by what you just said. There's a mixture of anger, hurt, and surprise on his face. But there's also a flash of... understanding. He’s clearly struck a nerve, and he isn’t entirely sure how to dig himself out of the hole he’s just dropped himself into. He takes a deep breath and backtracks, speaking calmly and softly.

"You're right, rookie," he says softly, his eyes bittersweet. "We're not friends. And you don't owe me anythin’." He pauses for a moment, staring intently into your eyes. "But that doesn't mean I'm not concerned about you," he says, his voice growing more serious. "And it doesn't mean I'm ready to just give up on you."

“Well, you should.” Is all you can remark back as you put on your helmet last, your voice slightly muffled now but still intelligible. You walk away, rushing back to camp. Ezra scowls, watching you go. He wants to say more, but the words never come to him. And so, he's left standing there, ruminating with anger and frustration.

"That girl... that damn girl," he mutters to himself, unable to refrain from thinking out loud. "Why does she have to be so difficult?" He shakes his head, almost as if trying to clear his thoughts. Then, he lets out a loud sigh. "She makes me want to punch a wall," he declares loudly, almost yelling at the top of his lungs, "but she also makes me want to run to the very ends of the galaxy for her." He shrugs to himself, a small smile on his face as he lowers his voice down to a pensive whisper. "Oh, the life of someone who can't decide whether they worship a girl or despise her."

You hear his yelling but can't make it out from how far away you are now. After a good five-minute walk, you reach the site. You head to the camps and see the prospectors just beginning to wake from slumber, giving you a chance to slip into your tent and get ready for the day without interruption.

Meanwhile, Ezra glares down at the ground, trying to control his temper. He knows it's not good to let his emotions get the better of him. But still, there's something about you that drives him absolutely crazy. How do you make him so angry and so... attracted to you at the same time? He sighs to himself, shaking his head. You really have him wrapped around your finger, and he isn't quite sure how much longer he can take it before he finally just snaps and says something that might disturb the temporary peace you both have.

As you make your way to your tent there’s the smell of rain in the air, and as the sky lightens you notice that it's overcast ahead. Once you’re finally inside, the rain starts slowly. But, by the time you're ready to head out, it begins to pick up. When you're outside, it falls in sheets against your helmet. You sigh, knowing that the mud is going to make today a hard one, but it also feels good to finally have some relief from all the heat. You decide to still take it as a good sign as you join your crew at the digs, steeling yourself for the labor ahead.

******

Can I write just one character without trauma?? No, the answer is no. Sorry. So I was going to wait to upload this until tomorrow but I'm impatient so I just decided to do it now. I figure this is probably going to be a slow burn E-to-L cuz it's just more fun to torture myself (and in turn everyone who reads this muahaha). As I said in the last chapter this is my first E-to-L so I might just suck at it bUT I'm gonna try anyway because I am persistent, damnit. Anyway, that’s it, thanks a million, hope you all enjoyed, and see you in the next one!

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[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

"Breakout"

plaga Leon x OC, hurt/comfort/some body horror

Luis' parasite removal machine had worked. Leon, Ashley and Catherine escaped the hellish island, Ashley returned to her family safe and sound, and Catherine went back to her home--back to her job at the hospital.

A few months later, Catherine dressed in a green buttoned dress shirt and faded jeans, was now in the backseat of her uncle's car, Leon lying in her lap, still wearing a green hospital shirt and loose pants breathing heavily. Uncle Lindsey had given him a blanket and old hoodie to try and conceal his appearance. A woman with reddish hair and wearing a light blue lab uniform sat in the passenger seat in the front, occasionally looking back to give Catherine a reassuring smile or nod.

The car bounced as Lindsey drove down the road, making what belongings they all could pack in the trunk move about making loud thumping noises.

Leon had been infected again, a last laugh from Saddler during their final showdown. By the time it was discovered, the egg hatched and grew to a full adult. Sent to a medical facility, any methods of treatment ended in failure. Somehow, Leon retained his mind and will of his own.

Catherine had started receiving a series of emails from the woman in front -- Morgan Collins was her name. It wasn't long before she revealed the awful truth that Leon was a host once more and that he would be turned into a new bioweapon. Morgan, through careful planning, managed to sneak him out. Leon had been given sedatives normally meant for animals, leaving him in a sluggish state.

Lindsey pulled into a gas station. "Sorry, gotta gas up. There's a motel 'bout ten more miles from here. Hopefully can rest there, eh?"

"That's fine," Catherine replied quietly, "Uncle...thank you for...you know..."

He smiled. "Never in a million years I'd leave my niece in the cold, you know that." He flicked something away from his hair, dyed a dark green. His expression turned serious, "Cathy, I'm not afraid to go back to jail..."

Dusting off his navy blue coat, he turned and walked towards the mini-mart.

Morgan looked back, shocked. "Did he really just say that?"

Leon stirred, pale face and red eyes looking up at Catherine. He appeared to be aware of the conversation.

Catherine held his hand. "Yeah. Long story short, he beat up my father--and also my parents' dealer, with a baseball bat. But he did it to protect me..."

Morgan shook her head. She reached for her bottle of water in the drink holder to take a sip. She shrugged, "We all have a story to tell I guess. Who knew this would be the second time I'm running from my workplace again?"

"Oh...?"

Morgan put the bottle down. "*sigh* I told your buddy there before but...I worked for Umbrella. Me and my team...we thought were gonna make a difference creating new medicine. Improve the quality of life for our patients, yea?" She balled her hand into a fist, "That goddamned virus...the higher-ups played us all for a bunch of fools..." She then rested her head in her hands, "I just wanted to see my dad get the treatment he needed..."

Catherine reached over to place a hand on Morgan's shoulder briefly. "I appreciate your help..."

She looked down to see Leon, sound asleep and breathing normally, the veins in his skin not as prominent as before. She brushed some of his hair aside to gently kiss his forehead.

Lindsey returned with a few bags of food and drink, filled the tank of gas, and pulled the car out, back on the road, driving off into the starry night.

@mishwanders @squashfics @lex-the-flex @likesugarandcyanide @notrattus @g0thesqe

[soulsolid-a]

It had been an off day for the navigator. She didn't join the crew at dinner --- she just didn't have an appetite. She never did, around the anniversary of Bell-mère's death; instead of being with her friends, or even going to the library for her duties, she stayed holed away in her quarters, under the covers. When Nami was sure it was late enough for everyone to be asleep, she snuck downstairs into the kitchen, hoping to make some tea. A blanket wrapped around her shoulders to protect her from the chilling night air, it was clear she didn't expect company.

"Brook?" A tilt of the head accompanied her quiet steps --- still a graceful cat thief, she didn't want to scare him to death by sneaking up on him (even though he was already dead). "What're you doin' up?"

✩.    Waves were lapping gently against the side of Lion-chan underneath blankets of stars, a rhythm which would forever be familiar to his soul, even if never quite the same. It was comforting, knowing that no matter how much the world would change with or without him, nothing could quite leave a mark upon the sea.

     Night watches had always been a private pleasure of his, even long before he'd joined the Strawhats, when he'd sailed underneath different captains. Now though, he had reasons more than ever to enjoy them. Walking upon a quiet ship still filled with life was so starkly different from his years spent in the fog that it was far more difficult to mistake his new life for an illusion. Joyous banter could be hallucinations, on worse days. Calm silence was harder to fool.

     Although the company of another was never unwelcome, if unexpected. He'd startled when he'd heard familiar voice call his name, hands stilling from where they'd been just about to light the stove as he turned his head and inclined it towards their navigator with respect as he quickly recovered. A quick glance out the open door confirmed that it was yet night, and still far from the time for anyone to be awake —  if the absence of their chef, ready to prepare a banquet of breakfast, was anything to go by.

“ Ah, Nami-san, ”   there was still a surprised lint to his tone, though quickly covered by a light chuckle,   “ My, my !  Forgive me, for a second I thought you were a ghost. ”

     The banterous tone didn't last long, already fading by the end of his quip. A part of him was still hesitant to shake off the quiet lull of the night, hesitant to return to the world of the living in his boisterous norm, leaving nobody any doubt of his survival.

“ It's my turn to take watch tonight, ”   he explained, and he'd offer a smile if he could. As it was, he gestured briefly towards the open boxes of tea —  the blends he'd bought last time they'd docked — and prepared kettle he'd laid out on the counter,   “ I was merely taking some time to make myself a drink. Tea is quite a marvelous drink, if I do say so myself !  I was thinking that I would perhaps... ”

     His words trailed off, spine straightening with a touch of alertness as it crawled with a sense of wrongness. He turned more fully towards Nami, his head tilting slightly with concern.

“ Is everything alright, Nami-san ? ”  his voice remained gentle in his question, a touch hesitant,   “ Truly now, I mean you no offense, but you seem... a bit unwell. Did you have the meal Sanji-san left for you earlier ? ”

     He hadn't questioned it too deeply when their navigator had been absent for dinner —  perhaps it was an usual occurrence, one that Brook was simply unaware of, even if the others  ( especially their cook )  had seemed to share his concern. He did his best to refrain from being overbearing after he'd learned his lessons during his first few weeks, but... perhaps he ought to have inquired further. Though what right he had beyond worry, he wasn't sure.

     Nevertheless, he took out another cup, adding more water to the kettle and lighting the stove. It would be up to Nami-san whether she wished to share that which weighed on her or not. He could only hope to be able to relieve her of some of her burdens, Muses knew his knowledge in how oppressing those could feel.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

And All I Ever Knew, Only You

Pairing: Osamu Dazai x gn!Reader

Writing Genre: story, letter format

Genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff?

Word count: 1.7k (there is a cut)

Warnings: extremely light allusion to nsfw, discussions of mental health, discussions of suicidal thoughts and actions, allusions to self-harm, angst, results of trauma

Notes P.1: I originally got the idea for this fic when I had the first sneak peek I shared come to mind on a night drive, and immediately I felt that Dazai should be the character for the fic! I would also like to note that this fic was slightly influenced by Lemony Snicket's The Beatrice Letters!

Notes P.2: Another thing I would like to note is that it does get slightly more disorganized as the fic goes on, but it is written that way on purpose to accurately portray how your thoughts become more jumbled when you're so caught up in emotion!

Read it on ao3!

And yes, the title is a lyric in the song Only You by Yazoo!

~~~

Staring out of the window, a soft smile made its way onto Dazai's face as he observed the gloaming. Your light snores filled the bedroom, causing his smile to widen as he looked back at your sleeping form. Multiple pieces of paper sat on the desk in front of him, glowing due to the light from a candle.

Picking up a black pen, he felt an overwhelming sense of love in his bones. Adoration, tenderness, and appreciation flooded his veins as his heart overflowed onto the pages.

To my dear soul,

I have felt a plaguing solitude for as long as I can remember. My childhood was filled with bitterness and confusion; a wound only deepening as I got older. My time in the mafia, as you know, was an extremely tumultuous period of my life. My mind had found its home in the volatile cage of violence, both to myself and others. There was no longer the glimmering of youth in my eyes, having been shoved aside into nothingness.

I was given the key to the cage about a decade ago now by a friend of mine, and although I opened the door and flew from the cage, my soul stayed behind. It sat idly and waited for someone to revive it and give its own wings to fly with. Finally, four years ago, along you came.

The first thing I noticed were your eyes. Such captivating emotion in them, highlighted by your dazzling smile. You had an interview with Fukuzawa that morning, and decided to approach and make conversation with me. It was simple small talk, but it haunted my sleepless nights nonetheless. When he asked if we should hire you, I was quick to give my approval.

By the start of the next week you became one of our receptionists. After we discovered your past and ability however, you were given your entrance exam (which you aced with my advice might I add) and became an official member of the Agency; I was overjoyed that day, even if it was hidden away!

Your desk sat next to mine, and I always observed you working and talking to the other members; much to Kunikida’s frustration of course. Those frustrations did not last long though, because he could see the true happiness in my aura. It was something he always wished for me, and he was the one who encouraged me to pursue my relationship with you.

I am surprised this is a tale I have never told you; even when you ask me for stories at night while stroking my spine and attempting to make conversation before bed.

I never speak about how much pleasure I find in your embrace. How I can feel nothing but the love and acceptance I have forever craved.

What a fool I am for you, my love. You have revived the boy inside of me, and I feel nothing but gratitude for your patience.

I want to be here for you so desperately, as you have always been there for me. Our relationship has had its fair share of fights, but I was still learning then. I have never had a “proper” relationship shown to me, and that is the only way I knew how to be. This confidence is the only barrier I have to keep people out of the turbulent waters of my heart and my love, but nevertheless you picked up that hammer and began breaking it down.

I remember the first night I cried in front of you; a deep, true cry I have not had in years. You held me, ran your fingers through my hair, and treated me so fragile that even I thought I would break if I left your arms. My sobs and wails echoed and sounded like sirens in your ears, and even though my mind screamed that I was nothing but a burden, you clasped my red tear-stained face in your hands and stared into my watered eyes with such admiration that I felt like your most revered painting.

My fresh tears now drip onto this page as I promise to hold and cherish you the same. I have made so many promises to you, but I am still ashamed to say that I have broken more than half of them. Why do you stay? My heart knows the reason, but my mind does not.

I have laid myself bare before you on many, many nights. I have shown you parts of me that no one has ever seen before. You have sailed and explored every island in the archipelago of my heart, and still you stay. My blood ran mafia black, but you have left ichor in my veins on your voyage.

I thank the Gods everyday for allowing us to meet. I need no other home but you, for you have provided me the shelter and safety to thrive.

You have always cared so deeply for me and my mind. When I stand on the ledge of a tall building in the night, menacing thoughts coursing through my brain, you hold my hand and stand next to me saying nothing; only waiting for me to look at you before leading me away back to the warmth and comfort of our apartment. I want to continue doing the same for you. I see the contemplation and sorrow in your eyes when you trace over your scars, some caused by others and some by you. During those moments I want so desperately to kiss your lips and wash away your thoughts, but I know I cannot. I think I feel remarkably similar to how you feel in my hazy moments; but as I hinted, these are our battles to fight, and we must allow the other this experience.

I promise to always be there for you, even in your darkest times when you question why I bother. Do you know why I bother? I am sure you do, but I will tell you anyway. I bother because I am so deeply and irrevocably in love with you.

You have become the brightest light in my life throughout the last three years we have been together, and I promise to stay with you for the rest of time as yours. And when you are knocking on death's door, I will hold your frail hand and encase your dying breath with my lips. Your wishes will become my only reason for living.

I want to thank you, Y/n, for reviving in me what I once lost. For reminding me of the beauty in the life around me, and not the one in my mind. For showing me how much you love me everyday, in little gestures and large gestures. We are walking toward the vast and unpredictable landscape of our future, and for once in my life I can say that with you as my partner I feel no uncertainty. As cheesy as it may sound, our romance has been written in the stars. Our lovely, bitter romance.

That is what life and love are, right? Lovely and bitter. I believe the proper word would be bittersweet.

I hear your call, my dear soul, and I answer it with my spirit. We are living at peace with our hearts now that all of this chaos has ended. It has been a long journey… and we deserve to rest now.

I know you, and words cannot express how much I have longed for that. You are my sole companion, and I can see in your smile that I am the same for you. Many friends will come and go, but I promise I will remain constant in your life.

I feel so honoured to be your fiancé. I remember the night of the proposal like it was yesterday.

I was with Kunikida in the morning, running around like a headless chicken trying to decide how I would do it! Would I take you to a fancy restaurant? A rooftop bar? A park or lake for a picnic? He was trying his best to calm me down, but his efforts were to no avail. Now, I know you were there, and you have heard this story many times before, but I will be telling it again.

I had made a reservation at the restaurant we went to on our first date (very cliché, I know), but by the time we arrived they had given our table to someone else as I had gotten the reservation time wrong! I felt very embarrassed, but you assured me that it would be fine as long as we spent the night together.

Now that my original plan had failed, I landed on my second idea – a rooftop bar. The maps on our phones were not working however, and we ended up driving across the city trying to spot it! Eventually, we decided to drive out to the country and enjoy the nature. I thought the car had enough gas, but needless to say it did not (I’ve never been that great with cars, love, I apologize). After it broke down, ironic chuckles left both of our lips before we decided to walk through the grass and trees that were nearby.

We stood together under the stars and a cherry blossom tree, and at that moment when you looked over at me, I could see my future carved into your features. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring, and to my surprise you pulled out a ring as well. We both wanted to propose to each other on the same night, what are the odds! Our laughter flew with the wind as we slipped the rings onto the others fingers and kissed, petals from the tree falling over us like rain. But then, of course, the ‘rain’ started feeling a little too wet and real and I quickly realized that we were now stuck in a storm. What a way to celebrate our engagement, right!? It felt like Heaven to me, though; like God had finally dealt me a good hand.

Alas, it is time for me to join you in our bed. I am unbelievably excited to marry you tomorrow, my star.

Your spirit,

Dazai

- - - - - - - - - -

If you would like to read more of my Dazai fics, why don't you check out Belladonna?

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@stories-from-saint-petersburg @kunikinnie @valonava

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[sunfish-studies]

Lines of Protection

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: being hit on? The boys trying to burn everyone with just a look.

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm. This will happen during preliminaries. The timeline’s around Inter-High Preliminaries, so Kyotani’s not here yet.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

They made sure to build layers of protection for the incoming flirts advancing towards their manager.

There’s an unwritten rule between the members every time they’re stepping into the new territory of public–protect their manager at all costs. Maybe that applies to every team which has a manager in it, including Aoba Johsai.

Either Inter-High, Spring Tournament Preliminaries, or even just a practice match all of them had a silent oath to ‘not-let-anyone-touch-their-precious-manager’.

You don’t particularly feel uncomfortable about their act similar to tall barriers, in fact it’s the exact opposite–you feel safe even though you’re the only girl in the club. However, if they started to glare at anyone in the vicinity without anything to be glared about it’s beyond infuriating and downright rude.

For two years, maybe more, you’ve been to Sendai City Gymnasium. Preliminaries for nationals in Miyagi is always being held there.

The moment people recognize your signature aqua and white jersey combination, whispers were there immediately–following your team as they passed by.

“Look there, it’s Seijoh.”

“Uwah, they screamed powerhouse already. The members are really tall.”

“But more importantly, is that their manager!?”

“That tall beauty over there!? Man, Seijoh’s really lucky.”

Cue for Yahaba, Kindaichi, and Kunimi instantly snapped their head and put up the most menacing glare they could–making the commentors stiffened from the sudden and unexpected attention.

“Stop it.” But, you’re there to lightly smack their head with your notes–scolding them from being rude to strangers and apologized on their behalf.

“I’m sorry if they scared you,” you bowed apologetically.

“N-no, it’s alright.” They stuttered. When you’re out of ears reach along with Aoba Johsai, that’s when they could finally speak–describing their encounter with you even though in just a few seconds. “It’s like… being blessed by the gods…”

They’re whipped, your honor.

At least one of them would go along with you when you announced you would fill the water bottles during the team’s warm up before their match starts–for both helping you carry the weight along acting as a bodyguard. Usually, Yahaba was the one who accompanied you or even Watari.

With just an intense stare that screamed ‘get away’, they successfully hinder lining boys trying to sneak a chance to talk to you (sometimes you even forgot that Watari could be intimidating if he wanted to).

They would be fools if they thought they could get a step closer.

But still, there’s somehow at least a moment when the team unconsciously let their guard down and resulting some random guy blocking your path–being persistent of having your number in their contact list.

“Hey, you’re really cute. Can I have your number?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m uncomfortable giving my phone number to strangers. So, please excuse me.” You declined politely.

“Then, let’s get to know each other more-“

“Do you have business with our lady?”

This time it’s the third years–knowing they have more impact than the second or first years in getting rid of pests who insisted on hitting on you, they took it as their duty to stood towering behind your figure.

“She did say ‘excuse me’, didn’t she?” Oikawa remarked, smiling–although the smile was nowhere near kind and considerate. “Did you know that it’s rude to keep pushing a lady for her number? Maybe that’s why you’re not popular?”

Iwaizumi put a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you to take a step back until your figure was obscured with his taller stature. If Oikawa’s the master of sharp-tongue, then Iwaizumi already made them quivered in their feet from his glowering.

“Hey, we didn’t mean any harm-“

“She refused, didn’t she?” this time, it was Matsukawa who cut them off. Standing nearly a head taller, he looked down at the ones who bothered you. “When our lady manager said no, that means no.”

“Now, now,” Hanamaki could be playful most of the time, however the time when they’re manager being hit on and they’re being quite pushy he discarded it without a second thought. “Be grateful we didn’t witness you laying a hand on her because if you do, you will catch these hands.”

Safe to say the two yelped and apologized before scurrying away.

“Come on, let’s head back.” Iwaizumi gruffly said, prying the water bottle tray from your hands.

From being protective to super-overprotective just in a matter of minutes–the sudden change of their demeanor sometimes surprised you.

Well, they sometimes did feel proud when hearing whispers about you–especially the ones filled with none other than compliments. Beautiful, resembles a model, attractive, and among other things, being impressed and acknowledging your skill in strategy.

‘That’s our manager, world! Otohaku [Name]! Remember that!’ they might as well as screamed those words throughout the country because they just adore you.

Aside from that, take step towards you in their line of sight it will be the last step they’ll take.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

Prev

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks 

[sukirichi]

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?! 

taglist open:

@tete027 @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby​ @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch @riri-marley​ | bolded users cannot be tagged

[kimnjss]

unconscious confession | jhs

⤑  series: heartbreaker

⤑ pairing: stoner!hoseok x cheerleader!reader

⤑ genre: fluff !! 

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.4 // unedited

⤑ warnings: use of recreational drugs..!!

⤑ A/N: hiiii! thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far and giving me feedback with each and every update !! i really appreciate it honestly it’s a really big motivator for me. sooo i hope you like this part as well, don’t forget to let me know what you think . and also it’s this hoseok walking around lmao .

OCTOBER 3RD, 2020 | 19:26

Hoseok showed up to the game while the players were still practicing and you and the rest of the squad were in the middle of stretches. He looks effortlessly handsome from the quick glimpse you get before he's slumping down onto the metal. Focus on tucking each crumble of weed into the paper, but he'd occasionally steal glances at you on the field.

And your eyes meet each and every time. He played into the casual feel he wanted to set for tonight, an oversized pale yellow shirt underneath his light denim jacket. The pants he wears matches the jean of his jacket but are covered in rips, hair being held back by a headband. You've never noticed it before, but staring at him from the field when you really should be stretching had you realizing how well he carried himself. All of the time.

Thankfully, you're able to keep focus while you're actually cheering. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that rises in your chest at the sight of him cheering for you (it's not for the players on the field who are losing, badly). He even waves cutely at you as you're being thrown in the air and you consider ruining your form to wave back. But decide against it, Jimin would throw a fit.

His attention is on you from kickoff through overtime, taking the steps two at a time as the players line up to congratulate the winning team. “Ooh. Here comes your biggest fan,” Jimin points out from beside you, slightly breathless from the back-to-back routines.

You're gulping down mouthfuls of water, so you actually don't see when Hoseok makes his way over to you. Not until Jimin's words are registering and your head is whipping around to catch the wide smile on his pretty face. He doesn't hesitate to drop his arm over your shoulders, easily tucking your body into his side.

Instantly, you're engulfed in the familiar scent of him. The subtle stench of weed masked by his sweet cologne. You've never been around a guy who smelt as sweet as Hoseok always did, used to the overpowering stink of AXE body spray, but you're convinced he's never purchased a bottle. 

He's offering a quick nod of acknowledgment to Jimin, which is met with a halfhearted wave as he leans down to tie his laces. “You were pretty cool cheering,” He tries to be nonchalant with his compliment, eyes focused on the sky as he talks. Which is pointless, you already caught the way he had been cheering from the crowd.

“'Pretty cool', that's it?” There's a playful smirk on your lips that he finds way more inciting than he should. But, he's determined to keep his cool in front of you so all he does is lift his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, pretty cool.” He repeats in the same tone as before.

You don't even bother to mask the snicker that sneaks past your lips. “I put my leg behind my head it was just 'pretty cool'? Maybe you need an up-close demonstration?” It's the one that you use that catches him off guard, highlighting the meaning behind your suggestion.

He stumbles slightly, eyes widening slightly. That was obviously something he's thought about before... respectfully. This wasn't the first time he's seen what your body could do and it never failed to get his mind wandering. Of course, he's thought if he had the chance to sleep with you, would you pull out the same tricks you do on the field. Who wouldn't wonder that with someone they were pursuing? 

But, the fact that you were mentioning it. Hinting at it like you were planning for exactly that to happen, that was a whole different ballpark. And it's obvious from the slightly dazed look in his eye, that you can't help but laugh at. Pulling him from his thoughts with the sound of your laugh.

“You're funny,” You say through your laughter, which he's quickly catching on to – soft chuckles leaving his lips.

He leads you all the way to the locker rooms, where he waits outside for you to change out of your uniform and into the sweater and jeans you had picked out for your date. Compliment at the edge of his tongue the moment you're stepping out, arm dropping back down around your shoulder.

While the two of you walk to his car, he fills you in on the hilarious thing Jeongguk did that morning. And you laugh along with him. Like an actual laugh, not one of those forced ones to boost his ego. He's animated as he speaks, gesturing wide and goofy voices tagged as his friend's voices.

You're a few steps from his car when he's rushing ahead of you, pulling the car door open before dramatically gesturing to it. “M'lady,” He says as you pass him and you know he's just kidding, but your heart skips a beat.

There's got to be something wrong with you, you're sure of it. You've been on tons of dates in the past and here you were all warm and fuzzy inside and the date has barely started. It was comforting being around Hoseok, though. As if you've always known him, you hardly had to do any thinking when you texted and it was no different in person.

You can't help but wonder if it felt like that for him too. A connection like that can't just go unnoticed, right? Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. “Will you tell me now where we're going?” You're asking as he's settling into the space beside you, tugging his seatbelt around his waist.

“I won't tell you until we're there.” You had spent the entire night before trying to guess where he was taking you, which was no use. The shrug emoji was a favorite of his you were quickly realizing. “It's really cool, though. You're gonna like it,” He says with a grin.

If that was supposed to ease your curious mind, it does the exact opposite. A place he was sure you were going to like? How would he know? Talked for seven days straight, but that's only one week. Do you really know what someone likes after one week?

Hoseok's quiet the entire car ride, a small smile playing on his lips as he drives. You're too busy striking out possible date locations to make any conversation, so the soft sound of his music is the only noise that fills the car. He's humming along to the beat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, hair being swept by the wind. He's something out of a movie, it's hard to really focus on anything else.

Ten whole minutes pass of you shamelessly admiring his profile before he's shoving the car into park. “We're here,” Arms stretched out in front of him and your eyes squint, figuring you're missing something. “Where's here?” You're asking when you can't find the answer for yourself.

Hoseok lets out a small laugh, hand reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “You gotta get out to see it,” He's at your door seconds later, pulling it open and offering his hand out to you. Which you take, allowing him to pull you from the warmth and into the night wind. With his fingers laced with yours, he leads you away from the car.

You were standing on a cliff and the closer you get to the edge, the prettier it gets. Lights from the city below twinkling, but it looks so quiet. “You can see everything up here,” His fingers are still laced with yours, forgotten between you. “Right. I like to come here sometimes and just look,” Even with the endless conversation the two of you shared throughout the week, there were still quite a few things you didn't know about him.

Like the fact that he had a spot or the reason, he felt like he needed one in the first place. “How come you wanted to have our date here?” Aren't spots supposed to be private? Wouldn't showing you where he goes to 'just look', take away from that?

All at once, he's becoming all too aware with the warmth of your hand in his. The small tingle he feels throughout his palm that he had done a good job at ignoring up until now. It's the reason he's wiggling his fingers from your grasp and shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

He's plopping down on the rock with a thud, shoulders shrugging. “I don't know. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like bringing you here. So I did.” He's trying to be cool and you're not too sure why. There's a code in his words that isn't at all hard to read. He wanted to bring you here, let you in on a piece of him and no matter how nonchalant he tried to act about it, that's what it was.

So you're lowering yourself to sit beside him. From his pocket, he's pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and tucking it between his lips. He's quick with lighting it, taking his time with inhaling. “I don't really go on dates like that, you know. I mean, I do... but I don't. When I take girls out, it's like a gratuity, you know? But, I like talking to you and I wanted to show you something cool too. So I brought you here,”

His free hand rests on the ground behind you, inadvertently pulling your body closer to his. “Do you like it?” There's a bit of hopefulness in his voice that's hard to miss.

You're smiling brightly up at him, nodding your head to rid him of any confusion. “I like it. It's really pretty. Thank you for showing it to me,” Just your smile was enough to have the flutter starting up in his chest, but the way you talked to him? He'd turn into a blubbering fool if he wasn't careful.

He extends his hand, wordlessly offering the smoke out to you. And you're assuming that he just wants you to hold it for a second, so you pluck it from his fingers. And wait. He's snorting out a laugh at the patient look on your face. “You gonna hit it or...?”

“Oh! Uhm... no?” He's quick with pulling it from your fingers at the rejection, no desire to waste anything. “Why not? Are you like a good girl or something?” He teases, words coming through a cloud of smoke.

You're letting out a scoff, eyes rolling at his words. “No. I'm an athlete. My body is my most important instrument. Which includes my lungs,” He's bursting out laughing at the snootiness hidden in your tone. A loud laugh contagious laugh that could probably be heard throughout the entire city.

“Well, excuse me,” He speaks through your dying laughter.

With his arm resting behind you, you're naturally leaning into his side. The calm of the night and having him so close has a warm feeling settling in your chest, so much so that it's hard to contain the smile that has spread onto your features. Sitting in comfortable silence and watching the city below and it doesn't feel weird.

Content with just being around him and that's something you've never felt before. Whether or not he was feeling it too was lost on you, his focus on moving the blunt to and from his lips, a cloud of smoke forming above your heads.

“You see that greenish building?” You're pointing a little ways ahead of you. He has to lean forward and squint to see what you're referring to but nods once he spots it. “That's my middle school,” Punctuating your words with a grin up at him.

His fingers move to flick his scraps into the window, his body moving closer to you now that his focus wasn't split. “What was Middle School Yn like?” His free hand fidgets with the pebbles on the other side of his body, the other resting over your shoulder.

“Middle School Yn?” You repeat with a laugh, head tilting to the side as you're brought back to what you were like in middle school. Nothing like how you've turned out. “She was... different?” You're laughing again, planning on leaving it at that.

But, he's got this expectant look on his face, waiting for you to go on. So you do. “I kept to myself mostly, didn't have many friends. Not nearly as confident as I am now. I read a lot and did my homework. That's it,” He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised by the fact that you weren't always this popular magazine cut-out creation of yourself.

He doesn't even bat an eye, simply nodding at your words. “So you were a little nerdy?” His words don't come out in the rude unconvinced way that you've heard before when showing your past yearbooks. It's more like he's trying to get an image of what you looked like back than despite anything else.

“You could say that,” He's nodding, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Cute. Middle School me would've had the biggest crush on you.” Hoseok speaks as if it's just another fact like his words don't have a flutter shooting through your chest.

And with how sure he was that you two would've hit it off in middle school, you can't help but become curious. “What were you like back then?” You try to picture what a younger version of him would look like. How he'd act. Probably still cool, unbothered by most things that would usually send kids into a rage.

Your imagination doesn't get too far before he's answering. “I was a bit of a hothead... always wanted to fight someone. I was sensitive and emotional, so I argued a lot with whoever. I had a ton of friends, though. But looking, they were probably just afraid of not being my friend.” He laughs so you offer up a small giggle.

Your hand had been mindlessly resting on his thigh before, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he speaks. “So why do you think you'd have a crush on me?” From the way he described himself, it seemed like you two wouldn't even sit by each other – let alone be close enough that he'd develop a crush.

He's shrugging at your words, an action that you've quickly realized is his favorite. A way to give off nonchalance, but looking close enough it's not hard to detect the light blush that dusts over his cheeks. “You said you were quiet. I think I would've liked being around you. Listening to you talk... like now,” His arm drops from your shoulders to wrap around your waist, using his grip to pull you closer to him.

“Think if I met you then or now, I'd still be into the way you smile... or the pretty way you roll your eyes when you're trying to act annoyed. And yeah, just you.” His hand reaches for yours in his lap, loosely twisting your fingers with his. “Any version of me would like you,” It's so soft, you're not sure if that last part was meant for you to hear.

His eyes are focused out in front of you, not even slightly looking like someone that just confessed. So you ignore it, summing it up as a slip of the tongue. You don't comment, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from taking over your stomach.

All at once, you're being met with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Just to see what it feels like. Throw out the self-proclaimed challenge you set for yourself because Arya was probably wrong. You've spent the entire night with the guy, he cheered you on from the crowd, brought you to his spot, and now this... unconscious confession. The fact that he liked you was on his mind so much that he was saying it without even realizing it.

You found it extremely hard to think someone like that would have the wrap sheet he was given. Or, maybe he did in the past... but with you it was different. Why else would he take you here, invite you into his space and talk to you the way that he has if it wasn't anything different? Right?

Right.

So before you can talk yourself out of it, you're tilting your head to the side to face him. “It's pretty here, huh?” Voice much softer now, you've taken control of the fiddling of fingers. Twisting yours around him and occasionally brushing your nails against his skin. It's subtle enough to be taken lightly but just enough to leave his skin tingling.

He's quick to pick up on your change of demeanor, brows raising in slight surprise, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he's following your lead, leaning his body in closer to yours. “Mhm. Quiet too, nobody really comes over here,” His fingers tug at the belt loops in your jeans, tongue pushing out to wet his lips.

“That's good,” Your breath brushes against his lips as you speak, eyes dropping to his lips. He doesn't say anything else, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp just so he can spread his palm on the side of your neck. And then his lips are crashing down onto yours, hand holding your head in place.

Hoseok kisses you slowly at first, mouth molding with yours. But it's not long before he's brushing his tongue over your lips, testing the waters before he's plunging in. Fingers pressed into his jeans, you try to keep your head from spinning as his tongue pushes against yours. He tastes earthy... but a little sweet. It's intoxicating.

With two hands planted firmly on your hips, he's easily lifting you onto his lap. The movement so fast it's forcing you to break the kiss, a squealed laugh breaking the kiss. Which he meets with a wide grin, reaching to push your hair from your face. Slowly, he drags the tips of his fingers over your jawline, until he's holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I really like your lips,” He says through a groan, leaning in to cover your mouth with his once more. Hands dropping to cover the curve of your ass, pushing your body further up on his lap so your hips collide. You can feel his half-hard cock pressed against your thigh and it takes everything in you not to grind your hips forward.

The feeling of his cool hands slipping underneath your sweater has a shiver running down your spine. Body reacting to the way his fingers climb up your skin, grazing over the underwire of your bra. His teeth tug at your lower lip and you feel the twitch of his cock hardening as his hands slide underneath.

Your slow with pulling back, not fully wanting to pull away – but knowing if you didn't stop now you wouldn't be able to convince yourself later on. It's cute, though, the way his lips chase yours as you put distance between the two of you. When he's not tasting the peach of your lip gloss, his eyes flutter open.

Two large hands resting over your breasts, cheeks matching the color of his eyes. “You don't want to?” He looks genuinely confused, like someone not wanting to sleep with him right away was some foreign concept. Still, he's pulling his hands from the inside of your shirt, resting them behind him.

“Not yet,” He nods, glossy lips spreading into a smile. “Okay,” He leans up to press a reassuring kiss to your nose before he's sliding you off of his lap. And then, without missing a beat he's saying. “I bet I can name more constellations than you,” Completely wiping away any possibility of an awkward moment rising.

Challenging you with a smirk on his face and the comfortable atmosphere you had been in before is quickly returning. “Yeah, okay.” He's stretched out on the ground so he can look at the sky properly and you're quick to lower yourself beside him.

And just like that, you're pointing out clusters of stars, laughing at the ridiculous names that you come up with. Your head pressed to his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You don't even notice as the hours tick by.

— you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[spindlebeforesunset]

Pranksters and the Pranked

(because it is April Fools at my place already)

Ace Trappola - prankster

• got their other two roommates to participate in pranking Deuce

• set the room clock 3 hours later than usual

• while the two roommates were "busy preparing for the school day" at 2 am, Ace flicks open the lights and starts turning them on and off and shouts "OI DEUCE WAKE UP, WE'RE LATE"

• he finally yeets a pillow at Deuce's face to wake him up

Deuce Spade - pranked

• a very confused Deuce wakes up, sees that the three of them are already dressed, looks at the clock, and panic dresses himself

• "wheresmyhomeworkwheresmyhomework-"

• only when he runs out in the rose garden does he finally see that, it's still nighttime, no he isn't late, and yes, his sleep was ruined

• trudges back to the dorm room where he finds them all cracking up

• he chucks a pillow at Ace before promptly flopping back on his bed

• with his shoes on (n a s t y)

---

Cater Diamond - prankster

• has a plastic cockroach toy in his pocket as he is to serve Riddle tea again on this fine day

• Riddle is having a nice time admiring the roses and often sticks his teacup out for Cater to fill

• while Riddle is inspecting a rose, Cater pours the tea and slips the plastic cockroach inside the teacup as well

• he doesn't change his expression when he hands back the teacup

Riddle Rosehearts - pranked

• Riddle sips the warm tea and feels something solid touching his lips

• he looks down

• immediately drops the teacup starts screaming there's a fucking cockroach in the teacup

• he realizes that Cater is doubled over laughing so he takes the opportunity to whoop Cater's head before storming off

---

Trey Clover - pranked

• he's bored and decides to make cookies

• he double checks the chocolate chips bag to ensure that they were not replaced with chocolate covered raisins like what Che'nya did last year

• no raisins, so he shrugs his shoulders that Che'nya had really ran out of ideas after many years

• takes out the ingredients necessary for the cookies and starts to mix the ingredients

• the process is going fine until he cracks an egg

• there's no liquid yolk pouring out

• he looks at the insides and finds that the egg has been fully hardboiled

• "... I should've known better," he sighs

• somewhere in the kitchen, an invisible RSA student laughs

---

Ruggie Bucchi - prankster

• gives Leona a package that appears to be from Cheka as there is a letter written in crayon and with childish handwriting

• stands near Leona's bed when he opens it

Leona Kingscholar - pranked

• he doesn't expect anything except maybe a small zebra toy

• but when he shakes the package and heard nothing he immediately thinks it is sus AF

• he glares at Ruggie, but even Ruggie doesn't appear to know anything

• he tears the wrapper, opens the box, and reads the words written ddirectly at the bottom: when will I get paid :(

• "Nice try Ruggie, I'll think about it."

• before he crashes back to his pillow, he sees Ruggie face droop along with his ears

Jack Howl - the only safe one

• by some miracle, the only student in school who did not fall into a prank

---

Floyd Leech - prankster

• beware Floyd and his pranks, because he will prank just about anybody

• he started with Azul, sneaking in Azul's bedroom (with the latter still asleep) and replacing Azul's glasses with glasses with lens he colored in black marker

• next, while Jade is in the bathroom, he replaces Jade's usual school tie with one that shifts colour and pattern every hour or so (now, it currently looks like the regular school tie)

• set up buckets full of water in the first year classrooms (Epel was dowsed in one, Sebek too, the last being Grim)

• handed Divus a blank assignment (written in invisible ink), but before Divus can even scold him, he passes the paper near a fire where the answers finally appear where Divus takes it with a huff

Azul Ashengrotto - pranked

• he wakes up and puts on his glasses by the bedside table

• how come he can't see

• it takes his sort of sleepy self two minutes to put two and two together

• instantly groans, knowing that Floyd definitely has his real glasses

Jade Leech - pranked

• he puts on his tie as he normally would and walks out the room

• when Ruggie asks him why his tie looked so funky in the middle of the day, he takes it off and finds that it has a silly banana pattern

• facepalms

• h a r d

• that he walked around with who-knows-a-probably-weirder-pattern around the school

---

Kalim Al-Asim - prankster & pranked

• harmlessly pranked by Jamil when he believed the milk was coconut juice (was kinda disappointed though)

• has slapped whoopee cushions everywhere underneath all the seats in Scarabia just for the heck of it to the chagrin of practically everyone

• asks Silver what's up with his blazer because what even is that

Jamil Viper - prankster

• he started with Kalim and the cocount juice

• knew full well that the seats were full of whoopee cushions and avoids sitting on all of them

• managed to trick Grim that he had tuna cans and when he gave Grim one, he excused himself that he had somewhere to go

• he watches hidden behind a pillar as Grim opens the tuna can and finds nothing but sand inside

• has to kick himself to stop his laughter from seeing Grim's disappointed face

---

Rook Hunt - prankster

• he was going to prank both Vil and Epel, but after hearing how the latter was dowsed in water for first period, decides to just prank Vil

• slaps cake icing inside an empty and expensive lotion bottle and wraps it with a ribbon

• he runs to Vil in the dormitory after classes and says it was left near his doorstep so tue sender must've mixed the rooms up

• unfortunately, Vil's door is closed on him

Vil Schoenheit - pranked

• after deciding not to scold Epel with the water fiasco, he takes the lotion bottle from Rook and takes it to his room, not seeing the "and I oop" face

• he squirts out a small amount of lotion on his palm and finds that it smells... weirdly fruity

• suspicious now, he rubs it with his palms and (despite all what he knew about beauty products) licks a tiny bit of it to confirm what it was

• blueberry icing

• "... well, it could have been worse."

• ends up tripping where he uses his hands to break the fall and realizes what a big mistake he's made with his sticky palms

• internally groans

Epel Felmier - pranked (can we get an F)

• as soon as he feels his clothes get wet and the bucket land on his head, he knew he was fucked for the whole day and goes through classes with a sheepish expression

---

Idia Shroud - pranked

• he decides to go outside and get something from the vending machine for once

• takes one step out and slides on a rug by his doorstep that was never there before

• "This is a warning, so maybe I'll just stay inside as always."

• gets back to his room where Ortho asks if he was just pranked as today was April Fools

• "...yep, I'm staying here the whole day."

• "Brother, no."

• unfortunately, they don't know who set up that rug

---

Lilia Vanrouge - prankster

• the only person who can and will prank Malleus Draconia

• he hides a small and cheap speaker at full blast (connected to his phone) inside Malleus' closet the day prior

• plays the end part of In the Hall of the Mountain King in a loop at exactly 3 am and everyone hears it in the halls

• tricks Sebek to believe that his crappily made cake would give whoever ate it additional strength, claiming the recipe was well-known back in his day

• swaps the black coffee powder with powdered chocolate milk just because

• swaps Silver's blazer with a seemingly normal one, but the back reads: If lost, return to Malleus

Malleus Draconia - pranked

• that music is straight up panic inducing and hurries to find it

• ends up finding it half an hour and yeets it out the window because he can't turn it off

• he's annoyed but goes back to sleep

• is huffy that he can't have coffee

• promptly confused why Silver is brought to him near lunch break until he sees what's at Silver's blazer at the back

• "Did he just..."

Sebek Zigvolt - pranked

• additional strength from the cake you say? THE BETTER TO SERVE WAKA-SAMA

• does not see the already facepalming Silver preparing the morning coffee

• takes a mouthful of it and starts chewing it before realizing something was not right

• "Sebek, I didn't think you would actually eat it. I made it bad on purpose."

• now that's a way to add insult to injury

• if he thought his morning was not already humiliating enough, he gets dowsed in water by Floyd's bucket

• him the whole day be like (;*△*;)

Silver

• poor Silver already knew full well of Lilia's antics, yet he still has no way out of it

• he puts on his blazer, not expecting anything wrong

• the powdered milk instead of coffee did annoy him though

• however, when Kalim shoves him to Malleus near lunch, he's shook

• until Kalim tells him to take off his blazer to show the both of them what was embroidered at the back

• "You mean I went out like this?"

• "It appears so," says Malleus

• "Oof," from Kalim

[iwishtobeastorm]

Congratulations on your 200 followers! I’m proud to be one of them! Can I request a Frankie Morales with plus size reader? Maybe reader thinks that Frankie likes someone else? 🥺 angst and fluff? Thank you so much in advance, I love your writing.

“I was afraid I’ll lose you.“ “Never.“

A/N: Thank you so so so much babe! I'm so grateful you're following me and that you like my work. 💕 When I saw you requested Frankie I almost fainted because I love the man more than anything and I couldn't wait to finally write something about him. I hope this angsty fluffy thing won't disappoint!

The most dangerous thing - Frankie Morales/Chubby!F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2200+

Celebration | Masterlist

It's as if everything around you stopped, the whole world just froze, the sounds got drowned by silence, the light turning into darkness as a huge wound opens in your chest sucking in all the warmth that you felt after Santi's last joke. You can't look away, your wide opened eyes filling with tears, before Benny nudges your shoulder, taking you back, your gaze snapping to him, the loud roaring of the bar fills your ears as you're met with the baby blue of his irises, watching you with worry. "Y/N, are you okay?" He speaks softly, his hand squeezing on your shoulder. You don't know what to say. You're sure he can tell perfectly you're not okay by the hot tears running down your cheeks. "Uhm, sure. I just need a minute," you murmur, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands as you rise from the table, rushing to the toilets before any of the boys come back to sit down or before Benny's able to stop you. You close the door behind you, locking in, before you lean your back against it, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs as you slowly slip to the ground, clutching your knees to your body, your tears now coming in burning streams, blurrying your vision. All of this for one man.

You've met the boys while working at the bar as a part-time job to have more money to cover your university life. You immediately grew to the whole group, spending maybe too much time joking around with them for your boss's liking. They've always flirted with you, or most of them did. Most of them, but never Frankie. And you being the little fool you're, of course you fell in love with him. He was always quiet and shy, never holding an eyecontact for too long, never teasing you. He rarely spoke to you at first, which made him even more attractive in your eyes, more mysterious. But when he started talking to you? Oh boy. You learned how smart he is and so perceptive, while he told you about a new book or an article he read or that caught his eyes, while he waited for the rest of the group and you hanged on his every word, watching him with unhidden fascination. You know he's older than you, but that doesn't mean the two of you couldn't work together. Actually you think you two would make an amazing couple. You can imagine falling asleep in his arms while he reads to you or spending the weekends with the boys, playing pool or cards like they sometimes do, as Benny told you once. You could get used to the life with him more than easily, but those are all daydreams. The longer time you've known them, the more you found out about Frankie and his past. You got to know he's divorced and has a little daughter and that all of the boys served in special forces, that's where their nicknames come from. The more you've heard about Frankie the more you grew to him. A few months ago you were invited to Benny's b-day party and ever since that, you hang out with them from time to time. You know you technically don't belong there, but they never made you feel like the third wheel, more like the little princess they all have to protect as your knights in shining armor. That's when you got significantly closer to Frankie. You two found yourself caught up in your own conversation more and more often, sometimes leaving the noisy company of the rest of the boys, just sitting on Millers' patio in the rocking chairs and talking about everything and nothing, laughing together until your ribs got tough sometimes. Frankie brought out a part of you you didn't know you had. All of those little things made you believe it was going the right way. You go along well, right? What else should matter? Until today Frankie was late. You were late yourself bacuse you had an important assignment to finish, but Frankie was never late. He was always the first one there, always. It made you worried, because apparently none of the boys knew what was actually going on, until Frankie showed up with a lady by his sight. Pretty one, a bit older than you and much much thinner, making your insecurity thrive. That's why you ran away like a coward, hiding in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the ground to cry your eyes out. This is not how you imagined this night. You thought it will be the usual. A bit of friendly flirting with Pope, life-check up with Will, a lot of laughing with Benny and nice conversation with Frankie, before you retire to your stinky dorms. Not this. Maybe you could climb out of the window and run away. No, no, you can't because you left your purse at the table. Or maybe you could pretend you were sick and sneak out? That could work, but you're not really prepared to face Frankie and whoever that lady is. You're screwed. "Y/N! Are you in there?" There's a banging on the door, making your form shake with it and you slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears that got stuck on your cheeks and taking a deep breath before responding to Benny's question. "Yeah, I- I just don't feel really well," you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Well, technically this isn't a lie. "Would you open the door for me?" He asks, hint of plea in his voice. "Uhm- just wait a second," you say softly, raising from the ground. You know that if you said no, Benny is able to kick the door open without hesitation. You check yourself in the mirror, getting rid of

any signs you've ever cried, before opening the door, just to find the younger Miller brother leaning against the doorframe, face curved in worry. "What's going on? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping in, letting you close the door behind him. "These are restrooms for women, Benny. You probably shouldn't be here," you murmur, trying to sound like you're teasing him to lighten up the mood and also mainly to avoid answering his questions, but there's no way Benny would let it slip. Not after the anguish he saw in your eyes and the tears that rolled down your cheeks. "Spill it, Y/N. I know something's up," he states, folding his hands on his chest like Frankie does sometimes, the mental mention of him reminding you of the lady by his side and your eyes start stinging again. "I just- didn't feel good," you say softly, trying to sound persuasive. But Benny's way past buying that. "Because of Sylvie?" He asks and you frown softly. "Sylvie?" You raise an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle softly. "Yeah, the lady that Frankie brought with him," he states, making your heart sink. "No," you murmur to respond to his initial question. "Are you sure?" Benny raises an eyebrow at you, leaning his body against the wall, eyes never leaving you, so you have to watch your expression carefully. "Yes. Can I leave now? I really don't feel good, Benny," you say, not really waiting for his approval, reaching for the door to open them, but Benny pushes his arm against it, holding it closed. Your strenght is nothing compared to his, so you know you're trapped. "Let me leave, please," you look up at him. "I saw the way you look at him, Y/N," he states, his gaze softening. Your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. Always so stubborn, as Will says. You look down, trying to hide all the emotions your eyes could give away easily. "Why don't you tell him?" Benny asks, leaning against the door. "Because it would be useless. I- I thought he feels the same but apparently he doesn't. I don't need more damage. Would you now let me leave, please?" you say softly, tugging on the door. "It's not like that. Pope set them up. Frankie didn't want it," Benny states. "Does it matter now? He's out there with her on our night, isn't he? And- and he looked happy so-," you clench your jaw, trying to open the damned door but it's useless when Benny's leaned on it. "Get away from the fucking door, Ben. I- I'm not playing," you grumble, the tears slipping over your eyelids and rolling down your cheeks at your struggle. Benny steps away from the door and tries to reach for you to continue with his attempt to comfort you, or whatever that was supposed to be, but you dodge his hand and storm out of the restrooms. You head straight to the table, not looking at anyone, just grasping your purse and murmuring quick I gotta go, before you're out of the door, their shouting of your name rings in your ears even as you walk down the street to your dorms. It's over. It's all over. He left you. He never felt the same. And now you have nothing.

You've spent the rest of the weekend in bed, eating ice cream and watching Bridget Jones, hoping that will heal the aching wound in your chest, but by now you doubt anything ever can. You turned off your notifications on the phone, not letting a single one of the guys know what is actually going on, so Benny remained the only one cursed with knowledge. On Sunday evening you finally get out of the bed and clean up a bit, since your roommate will return tomorrow morning from their visit of their family or whatever and if they saw this mess, they'd probably beat you up, so you play some lazy songs and get into it. Just as you're cleaning up the small bathroom you have, there's a knock on the door. You at first think it wasn't your door, since there's literally no one who could've been knocking at your door at this time, but then it's there again, louder this time, forcing you to turn off the water, wipe your hands and head out to find out who it is. When you open the door, you hesitate the urge to shut them again, your heart squeezing in your chest, making it feel too tight for your liking. "Uhm, hey," you murmur, your eyes meeting the dark brown irises you sometimes dream of. "Hey. I just- can I come in?" He tilts his head towards the inside of your room, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, sure," you murmur, stepping away from the door and letting Frankie in. You close it behind you, biting on your lower lip. There's not much space in your dorm room, so you gesture to your bed so Frankie has somewhere to sit down, while you pour him a glass of water. "So- what is that you need?" You ask softly when you return from the bathroom, handing him his glass of water and biting on your lower lip. "I- I'm here because of Friday," he states and you wish you could jump out of the window and run. "Okay," you murmur, not really sure where this whole thing is going. Did boys send him here because they are worried and they know you two are close? Or did Benny tell them what he found out? Either way you seem to be fucked. "What happened, Y/N? You left in such hurry and- I saw you were crying," he swallows nervously, his grasp on the glass tightening. Benny told them, eventually. It took a long time, lots of beers and lots of pressure from all of the guys but he told them. And Frankie's here to make it all good. "It's nothing," you murmur, adverting your gaze, your cheeks burning. "I know it's not nothing, Y/N. Please, you have to tell me," he reaches for your hand, squeezing a bit on it until your eyes meet his, welling up in tears. "I just- I- I like you Frankie. Like a lot. And- and I just- when you brought Sylvie I-," you take a shaky breath, your throat getting too tight with the sobs you hold back, making you unable to speak. "Shh, come here," he murmurs, grabbing your other hand too and leading you to sit on his lap. You're so surprised you forget how to breathe for a moment as your hands rest on his shoulders, while he cups your both cheeks with his calloused hands, wiping away your tears. "I like you too, darling. Sylvia is Pope's fault. I- I insisted there's nothing I feel to you and he then dared me to take some girl out to persuade him about it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was you. And I realized it fully when I saw you leaving the bar. I just- I'm sorry," he mumbles, sighing through his prominent nose, that you adore dearly. His words make you smile, warming up the empty cold darkness in your chest, finally bringing you back to your usual self. "I was just afraid I'll lose you," you admit, playing with the little curls on the back of his neck. "Never," he says, raising your chin so your eyes meet his and before you're able to do anything, Frankie's soft lips are on yours. He pulls you closer, hands squeezing on your hips, making your cheeks flush red as you run your fingers into his hair. You fight the grin on your face as you realize what this means. You have Frankie now. And Frankie has you.

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

Tag list:

Thank you so much for your support!

@pintsizemama @rosi3ba3z @lovelylostminds @lokigirlszendaya

[willowworkswithwords]

"You've got to do better than that if you want to fool me" for the Hidden Injury prompts with your romantic or platonic relationship of choice!!! (Or Codywan if you can't think of any others ;) )

Hi Imp!! I’m sorry this is late, I absolutely had the intention when i posted the prompt list to get yours and the other one done the same night, but that just didn’t end up happening!

My brain conjured up for you a totally randomly thought of snippet that exists in a modern au. Cody taking care of the twins is one of my favorite things, so here is Cody watching the twins (like 7 years old ish). While he's making dinner the twins are up to no good outside. This is really more comfort and goofiness than hurt/comfort/angst. I hope you like it!

hidden injury dialogue prompts <- if it strikes your fancy, I'll write you a snippet!

read on ao3

---

Everything was in its place. Cody had all the spices lined up alongside the stove, standing at attention, a pot of water coming to a boil, and Waxer on speaker, reading off of the recipe card he’d found wedged in between pages of one of their dad’s hand-me-down cookbooks. 

Why Waxer hadn’t just sent Cody a picture of the recipe, Cody wasn’t sure, but he’d learned a long time ago to pick which battles to fight with his little brother and this was not one of them.

Anyways, if it helped Waxer feel involved after coming home from the service, Cody would do it in a heartbeat. 

All in all, it was setting out to a be a delightfully uneventful, calm evening between brothers. Even the twins had been occupied in the backyard for a full hour. Cody glanced out the window every few minutes to watch his niece and nephew huddled over something by one of the big oaks and smiled. For the next twenty minutes, Cody just let Waxer talk him through each step, throwing gentle jabs at him along the way, and let the twins slip out of his mind.

The patio door slid open and Cody knew, without even having to look, that Leia was trying to sneak Luke inside without him noticing. Whatever scheme she’d no doubt been convincing Luke of by that tree had somehow gone wrong, and somehow, because of course he did, Luke had gotten himself in to some kind of trouble.

“You've got to do better than that if you want to fool me,” Cody said, still facing the now rolling boil in front of him, grin cracked across his face despite himself. “Wax, I gotta take care of the kids real quick, I’m gonna mute myself then be right back, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing Cody. Hey twins!”

“Hi Uncle Waxer!” both twins chorused just slightly out of sync.

Cody pressed mute and turned, and the bark of laughter ripped out of him before he could slam him hand over his mouth.

Luke was standing on the doormat, dripping miserably all over, covered head to toe in thick, gloopy mud. He was shivering and his lower lip wobbled just the slightest, but he also had his chin jutted out just like Leia. 

“Leia, sweetheart, what did you do, dunk him in the river?”

The moment he said it dread filled him at the realization that very well could have been what happened.

“Leia Skywalker, tell me you didn’t dunk your brother in the river.”

“Of course not, Uncle Cody, I’m not stupid!” Leia crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

“Ok. Well,” Cody turned to Luke, trying for his sake to keep the smile off his face. “Luke, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Luke’s voice was so quiet it made Cody almost scoop his nephew up right then and there, his own clothes be damned. 

“Ok little buddy, let’s get you changed, ok?” He offered his hand and Luke quickly reached out to take it.

“Ok, Uncle Cody.”

Later that night, after an intense amount of hosing down and a warm shower, Luke was nestled against Cody on the couch in warm sweatpants and wrapped in a blanket, eating the soup Cody had finished while he was in the shower. Leia was snuggled up against Cody’s other side, out like a light and snoring. 

The lock on the front door clicked open and Cody let his head drop against the back of the couch to see Obi-Wan quietly setting his stuff down against the wall by the stair banister. He made his way over, a smile on his face.

“Hello darling, an eventful night?”

Luke giggled.

“Leia pushed me into the mud!”

Obi-Wan cam around the couch and gently scooped Leia out of the couch cushions, pressing a kiss against Cody’s cheek and then one against Luke’s head.

“Well, I’ll take this one up to bed then, it seems she’s had an eventful day. You’re next, Luke.”

Luke smashed his faced against Cody’s ribs.

“Uncle Cody tell him I’m not sleepy,” Luke whined. His next breath was taken up by a truly enormous yawn, and Cody smiled.

“You've got to do better than that if you want to fool me, Luke.”

Luke was asleep in five minutes.

[forever-rogue]

Hi! I have a request and whenever/ if u get to it I’d be super happy😊 it’s been a rough week and I would love a Javi fic where he wakes up next to you and it dawns on him that he loves you, and some fluff or smut ensues 👀? Have a great day!

I love this - I went with some fluff, because I am feeling soft. Here we are, some gentle, soft, and introspective Javi. 

Javier x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Javier Masterlist

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He came home late. Again. For the millionth time this week - rather this month. Year?

He always insisted that you didn't have to wait up for him but it didn't matter - you always tried anyway. For the days when you were able to stay up and welcome him home into your arms, he always seemed to ease up and melt into your touch. It wasn’t much, you never thought it was, but to him it was everything. To be able to come home to your smiling face, especially after a day out in the field was better than anything he could imagine. You were the singular, bright light in his dark and desperate world, reminding him that no matter what horrors he witnessed, there was always some good in this world. That no matter how bad of a man he felt, how evil and corrupt, you made him feel like that he wasn’t just filled with aching blackness. He was a good man and he was doing good things. 

The way you’d whisper his name as he walked into your shared apartment was always reverent, gentle, but firm, a catalyst to ground him and drag him out of his DEA head-space. Sometimes, you’d have dinner ready and waiting, almost as if you could sense when he’d be back, cracking a cold beer open for him as he sat down before gently kissing him. 

Other days when it would be late - too late - you’d meet him at the door and pull him along to the bathroom where you ran hot water filled with gently perfumed oils and stripped him of his clothes before guiding him into the tub. Sometimes you joined him, when he’d reach for you with eager hands and let you lay on his chest as he spoke about his day and got it off his mind; other times he just wanted the touch of your skin on his as you laid together in silence. Some nights you sat on the edge of the tub as you held his hand, telling him about your day, or something random, followed by washing his hair and body for him. It was something you enjoyed doing and he often did the same for you. He never verbalized just how much it meant to him, but you knew, you could always tell when he’d look at you with those soft chocolate, glossy with unshed tears before he kissed you. 

There were a hundred million ways that you told him you loved him without ever saying a word. Your actions always spoke volumes, and sometimes they overwhelmed him so much, he’d retreat into himself and go off into his head. Sometimes he was convinced that he didn’t deserve this - you - any of it. That he was masquerading around and had you fooled and thinking he was a decent human. But even in those times, you let him go, didn’t push or pull too much. And you went back to showing him in all the ways you could that you loved him. That you needed him as much as he needed you. That he was your everything. 

But this particular evening, he came home extra late. The stakeout had gone on longer than he intended and he wanted nothing more than to come home and crawl into bed and into your arms. 

By the time he entered the apartment and tossed his keys, badge, gun, and wallet onto the side table, he knew you were asleep. You weren’t there to greet him in person, but in your place was a scrawled note on the counter top.

Javi - dinner is in the fridge - I made your favorite. Eat and take a hot bath (I insist) and then come to bed. Tomorrow’s your day off and I want you to rest. Te amo.

An overwhelming sense of warmth started in his core and spread throughout his body as he read over your words. Never in his life had he expected to be part of this level of domesticity, but fuck - it sure felt nice. He ran a finger over your gently scrawled words before tucking the note safely away into the pocket. 

Just as you instructed, he went to the fridge and pulled out the plate you had prepared for him, heating it up while he got a beer and flicked on the television to quietly listen to some rerun of an old movie. As he ate, he listened to your soft snores coming from the bedroom as he smiled to himself. He knew he loved you, hell, he’d known that for a long, long time, but it had never really hit him just how damn much. It was the little things, and the big, that had him falling for you, over and over again. And - gods, he was completely smitten with you, overwhelmed and all consumed by you. 

He finished his plate and beer, going to set them in the sink before deciding against it and washing the few items up and tucking them in the cabinet. It wasn’t much, but he wanted to do it so you wouldn’t have to. Padding to the bathroom, he sneaked a quick peek at your sleeping form before smiling and stepping inside and turning on the tap for the hot water. He filled it with oils and bubbles, just as you always did, before stripping and sliding into the warm, blissful water. A low groan escaped his lips as he already felt the tension leave his body; you had been right - this was exactly what he needed. 

He took his time to wash his dark locks, to scrub himself free of any of the stress and grim, both literal and metaphorical, from the long day he’d had. He was off for a few days now and he wanted to start anew, to have a couple of fresh, clean days to get lost in you, to get lost in the simple pleasure of a normal life. It was nice sometimes, to get a reprieve from the constant darkness. One day, you promised him, this would be an everyday thing. And he couldn’t wait. 

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he got out and dried himself off and grabbed the clean pajamas you had laid out for him before crawling under the covers to join, taking care not to disturb your slumber.

But it was no use; as soon as you felt him slip into bed, you whispered his name with a smile tugged across your features. Your eyes didn’t open as you held your arms open and motioned for him to come to you. He eagerly complied as he let you wrap him up in your arms, pulling him tightly against your chest before tangling your legs with his. Javi made a small sound of content as he buried his face in your neck, pressing a few kisses to your soft skin before yawning and feeling the sweet call of slumber win him over. 

“I love you, Dulzura,” it was a soft whisper - a promise - a reminder that even if he didn’t verbalize as often as he should, it was true. 

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By the time he woke up the next morning, or rather later that morning, the sun was shining brightly through the sheer curtains, the chirping of birds and the excited shouts of children reaching his ears. Javier moved to reach for you, but found your side of the bed empty. He huffed lightly, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin on his, but his despair was quickly turned upside down.

The delicious smell of cooking - bacon, coffee, pancakes - met his nose as he listened to you softly singing along to whatever was playing on the radio. Suddenly his world stopped as he realized with a burning intensity that this  - you  - were his everything. It was overwhelming and nearly bowled him over as he realized that he already had everything he could ever want. 

As if you sensed that he was awake, you padded down the hallway and poked your head into the bedroom to find him grinning back at you. 

“Good morning mi amor,” you beamed at him, that soft, gentle smile that still managed to make him weak in the knees. God, that smile had won him over within about five seconds of meeting you. You stepped in and walked over to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Javi reached up and grabbed your face, holding you against his lips as he savored your sweet, saccharine taste. He traced over your features, studying you closely as his eyes softened, “what’s wrong, Javi?”

“Nothing,” he promised with another soft kiss, “I’m just happy. What a sight to wake up to.”

“I’m happy too,” you promised him, “I’m glad you got some rest, but now go back to sleep, it’ll be a little bit before everything is ready.”

“I’m wide awake now,” he insisted as he sat up and you ran a hand through his messy locks.

“Was I being too loud?” you frowned, hoping you weren’t the cause.

“No,” he promised softly, “I got enough rest. Let me help you - “

“It’s okay, Javi,” you insisted, “I want to do this, besides, it’s your day off. Let me take care of you.”

“I love you, dulzura,” he said suddenly, reaching for your hand before you could get away, “I know I don’t tell you enough, or show you, but please just know, I love you more than you will ever know.”

“I know Javier,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I know you do. You prove that to me every day, even if you don’t realize it. I love you too.”

“Let me come and help make breakfast,” he moved to slide out of the bed and stand up, stretched as he did so. 

“Javier, you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he promised gently, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you into his chest, “really. And maybe this afternoon we can go to the beach. Just you and me. What do you say dulzura?”

“I’d like that Javi,” you grinned at him as touched his cheek, getting lost in those soft brown eyes, “I’d like that a lot.”

“And I like you a lot - I love you always, even if I don’t say it enough,” he insisted, “you have my heart, now and forever.”

“And you have mine, Javier. Always.”

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[silverstarlightwrites]

An alternate AU to this one that occurred to me just now

Team Seven take the mission to the Land of Waves. On the bridge, they fight Zabuza and Haku.

On the bridge, Naruto dies.

Something in Sasuke breaks, and he goes berserk. Haku and their ice mirrors scream as they flashboil in the black flames Sasuke summons forth, and it takes only a howl and a wild gesture to send Amaterasu blazing across the bridge to consume Zabuza and Tazuna as well. The stone melts underneath them, while Kakashi snatches up Sakura and flees, and it’s not until Sasuke feels the weight of wet clothes - crushing Naruto’s body to his chest, bloody and so absurdly hot - that he realises the bridge has disintegrated, and the water is burning.

It’s instinct and desperation that let Sasuke to douse the fires he’s conjured, and even then it aches and tastes like blood and acid, and he’s sinking when Kakashi whips across the surface to catch him, the moment the flames are gone.

Sasuke cries into Naruto’s chest, and refuses to let go. Sakura is cold and silent, and she neither speaks nor eats for the grim, slow trek back to Konoha. And it is slow, even further drawn out by the constant fluctuation of chakra from Naruto’s corpse, carried awkwardly and painfully by Sasuke alone.

It’s not Naruto’s chakra, of course. Kakashi dreads the inevitable questions, resolves not to lie when they come, and somehow their absence is even worse.

The moment they walk through the southern Konoha gate, there are Anbu all over them. They pry Naruto’s body from Sasuke’s arms, despite his shouting and kunai, despite the way Sasuke’s eyes ignite into blood red to fight-- But he doesn’t summon Amaterasu again, doesn’t expend the chakra he doesn’t have to try and kill their own. Sakura touches his shoulder, just two fingers, and her face is pale and hollow when she shakes her head, but it’s still more interaction than she’s allowed for the whole trip, and Sasuke obeys her. Blinks his eyes black, slumps in place, and then sags against Sakura.

She catches him, and he’s shaking, and she stares over his shoulder, unblinking, at the Anbu wrapping Naruto’s corpse in chakra-absorbing paper scrawled endlessly with Seals.

Kakashi isn’t sure what she sees, and he isn’t sure he wants to know.

One Anbu stays behind, and they instruct the gutted remains of Team Seven that the Hokage wants to see them. Kakashi can’t bring himself to intervene when Sasuke snarls and lunges, or when Sakura lets him. Doesn’t step in when Sasuke tells them to Fuck Off or when he punches them weakly in the chest - and the Anbu clearly thinks he’s simply not going to get involved, because when they try to catch Sasuke’s wrist they aren’t expecting Kakashi to move. Too fast to be safe, too fast for the chakra use not to burn.

Sasuke leans back into Kakashi as the Anbu trips, and Kakashi feels himself close his hands on Sasuke’s shoulders. “Don’t touch my kids,” he hears himself hiss, and if he doesn’t quite know when he accepted them as his then he doesn’t quite care either.

One of them is dead, and they won’t be permitted to mourn him properly because of the beast caged inside him without his knowledge.

The thought makes Kakashi sick. It all does, all of it. Konoha’s abuse of an innocent child, Kakashi’s complicitness in allowing it to happen. Hiruzen’s cruelty in allowing it also.

In allowing all of it.

Sasuke has lost enough.

The Anbu doesn’t need telling twice, and they leave Kakashi to cajole his kids into seeing Hiruzen. It takes more effort than he’d care to admit. Just physically, the three of them are a wreck - and it’s worse emotionally. Mentally.

“You let them take him.”

It’s the first thing Sakura has said since Naruto died - in a burst of blood and scarlet chakra - and Kakashi suddenly thinks he’s never felt anything so cold as her voice. When he meets her gaze, it’s like drowning.

“I had to. The Hokage will explain.” Because Kakashi is bound not to. By an oath that maybe he shouldn’t have taken, by a promise extracted by force. Why shouldn’t he tell them?

He doesn’t, of course. He scoops Sasuke up, and despises that Sasuke simply allows it, and offers Sakura a hand as they start walking. Sakura ignores it, striding ahead with her back too stiff and her hands clenched too tight. The walk to the Hokage Tower, while significantly shorter, is the same as the trip from Waves to Konoha.

Hiruzen ushers them into his office, tearful, and Sasuke struggles stiffly out of Kakashi’s grip. Red flickers and whorls through his eyes, and it’s impossible to know if he’s fighting to ignite his Sharingan or if he’s fighting not to.

“I’m sorry.” It’s low and mournful and wet. It’s insulting.

Sakura snaps. She flies into a rage, screaming obscenities. Her teammate is dead, and she’s never experienced loss like this before, and gods but she watched it happen, and no pitiful, pathetic ‘I’m sorry’ can ever undo that. That Hiruzen even tries sends her over the edge.

Nobody stops her. By the time she burns out, the office is torn apart, papers scattered everywhere and the desk overturned. Sakura has scratched her nails bloody against the woodwork. When she collapses to the floor and howls, Sasuke finally approaches her, sinks to her level, and wraps his arms around her.

Perhaps he understands, then. Perhaps a hug - so tight as Sakura clings back that it may be the only thing holding her together - is all he wanted after the horror of his clan’s slaughter.

Kakashi catches himself wondering if Sasuke ever got that hug, but he knows the answer.

Of course he didn’t.

Hiruzen explains to them what a Jinchuriki is. He explains the basic concept of a Bijuu, and gives them a short summary of the Nine-Tails. They take it blankly, too much to process over the top of their raw grief, but they look to Kakashi as if searching for confirmation and Kakashi nods. Tells them it’s true.

And then, because it’s not enough, it’s pathetic an explanation, he hears himself continue.

Because “He deserved better. We failed him.” Hears it spin, feels more than sees the way Sasuke and Sakura twitch and shrink, and then corrects himself. His own voice is like tar in his throat.

“You failed him.”

Sasuke and Sakura follow him out of Hiruzen’s office, and Hiruzen doesn’t try to stop them.

Kakashi sets the pack to watch them when they all end up at the war memorial. It wasn’t exactly a decision to go there, of course, but it never really is. All eight ninken are there already when they arrive, and they encourage Sakura and Sasuke to collapse and curl up with them, but Kakashi resists. He has something else to do.

And it’s dark by the time he comes back, his kids and his pack all bundled up in his far-too-tiny apartment, but he wakes them all the same. Demanding Naruto’s body back hadn’t been easy or clean, and the results of the chakra-draining done to preserve as much of the stray Nine-Tails chakra bleeding out of where it had torn free upon Naruto’s death is... messy.

Naruto’s body stays wrapped up the way Kakashi walked out of the Anbu Blue Vault with it. Only his head is visible, and his hair is knotted and matted with blood and oil, but it doesn’t stop Sakura from running her hands through it, or Sasuke from laying his head against Naruto’s chest.

Not enough people come to Naruto’s funeral. The whole fucking Village should mourn him, the child who protected them from the Nine-Tails for his entire, short life. His loss should have been overwhelming - it should have brought all of Konoha to a fucking stop.

But it doesn’t. Umino Iruka attends, and he’s quiet but he weeps ceaselessly the whole day. Sakura and Sasuke seem to welcome his presence, so Kakashi doesn’t nothing to discourage it.

Hiruzen shows up, perhaps halfway through. It takes all of Kakashi’s still-wan strength to hold Sakura back from trying to maul him, and Sasuke doesn’t fight one way or another when he lights up his Sharingan at the Hokage’s approach.

“Go. Away,” Sasuke snarls at him, and for just a moment it seems like Hiruzen might scold the boy, who’s been stripped of his family in half a dozen different ways, over and over again, as if he’s expressing his grief incorrectly, and that moment is all it takes for Kakashi to speak over all of them.

It’s the voice he used as the Hound. He hasn’t heard it for years. “You should go, Hokage-sama. You don’t want to make me choose a side here.”

Because Kakashi is loathe to fight Konoha at all, let alone its leader, but he knows without a doubt that he will. For Sasuke. For Sakura. If ever the decision must be made, Kakashi knows he will turn on Hiruzen in an instant if it would protect his kids from ending up like him.

Konoha would not make a broken blade out of Sasuke. It would not strip Sakura of her soul.

Orochimaru comes. He seeks out Sasuke, and the power he offers is too tempting for Sasuke to pass up - but he refuses to sneak away in the dead of night. Team Seven’s progress has halted in the aftermath of Naruto’s death; Hiruzen has tried several times to full the gap in their unit, but Sakura and Sasuke vehemently refuse to accept one, and Kakashi does not make them. He will not.

Naruto cannot be replaced. The gap can never be sufficiently filled.

And so comes the morning that Sasuke asks for their company in leaving. He’s been suffocating under Konoha’s weight for a long time, Kakashi realises that morning, and he’s finally reached his limit. Kakashi doesn’t try to talk him out of it; he won’t succeed. There’s no point. Revenge has been his motivation for so long that Sasuke will never quite learn how to give it up, and now he has so much more for which to seek vengeance.

It will only be Itachi first. After that, all of Konoha is culpable for Naruto’s death, and the endless suffering he endured before it. Kakashi is not fool enough to think he can change Sasuke’s mind.

Sakura agrees on the spot. She’s unrecognisable from the bubbly genin Kakashi took custody of from the Academy. She’s gaunt and messy and angry, and she’s forsaken her friends in order to follow Sasuke into the dark. She’s clinging to him, ferociously, in a different way than she’d tried to before.

She’s clinging to Sasuke the same way Kakashi had clung to Rin - how Rin had clung right back - after Obito’s death. Sasuke is her constant, her reassurance that Naruto’s absence won’t just be for nothing, that someone is going to pay for it. That she’s going to help make that happen.

You don’t want to make me choose a side, Kakashi had told Hiruzen, as if they were words of fucking prophecy. Because here are his kids, minds made up, choosing a side that Kakashi would rather flay himself than join - and yet, here he is too, and he knows already he’s going to go with them.

Choosing against Konoha tastes like ozone and fear and self-loathing, but choosing against Sasuke and Sakura is unconscionable. Even this, even this, Kakashi will do. Watching them die is a terror that keeps him up at night, a nightmare with its hands around Kakashi’s throat, a dread that’s getting ever colder. That this might lead to that outcome takes his breath away.

But the thought of not being there is even worse. Konoha forsook Sasuke when his family was wiped out, and Konoha forsook them both once again when they came home bloodied and shattered. Konoha has gone on the same as always, as if nothing even happened, and it always has when the whole world was supposed to shatter and didn’t - with Obito’s eye in Kakashi’s skull and Rin’s blood on Kakashi’s hands - and that truth does absolutely nothing to stay Sasuke’s hatred or Sakura’s wrath. They are young and angry and wounded, and there is no words Kakashi can say that will convince them to reject the power on offer, no matter how dangerous and untrustworthy the source may be.

And he refuses to let them do this alone. Everyone will want their heads, but Kakashi has fought and killed the best of them, and if - in the end - his only purpose is to protect his remaining kids, where he failed to protect the third, then perhaps the Hound yet serves a purpose still.

So Kakashi selects a kunai, and helps them score through their Konoha hitai-ite, and lets them lead him into hell.