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#every time I’m like oh looks pretty healed :) it gets all irritated or something
x-ladydisdain-x · 2 years
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This fucking piercing omg
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inbabylontheywept · 1 year
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"Yeah, sure, and I shit thermite. Be serious."
So. Maybe, he’d gone a little overboard after work that day. He’d admit that. Drinking the sad away wasn’t the most mature way to handle things, but when you got a letter from your dad saying-
Well saying that, you know, maybe it was okay to have a beer or two. In theory. In practice, that meant that two-beers-deep Earl had to somehow have enough willpower to say “naw, I don’t wanna become three-beers-deep Earl,” and then three-beers-deep Earl’s gotta say no to four-beers-deep Earl, and it’s just a bit of a shitshow from there.
Pardon the french.
At least he wasn’t on the clock. The worst thing that should’ve happened to him was waking up tomorrow with a fatass headache and upset friends. Instead, he was in the hospital, surrounded by men with guns, osmotically absorbing the most surreal conversation of his life.
“We’d heard that humans had remarkable healing abilities but this is incredible. Anyone else here would be dead, he’s just showing some signs of esophageal irritation.”
“We got any idea of the culprit?”
“We’re looking over security footage but the culprit must be some kind of ghost. We’ve gone over the security footage at least twenty times, nobody can spot a thing.”
Earl couldn’t help it. He spoke.
“What are you talking about?”
The detective and the doctor jumped at the sound of his voice.
“What the shit-
The doc’s hand went over the detective's mouth, cutting off the oath just a hair too late. The duo looked after each other, before the detective gestured for the doctor to go first.
“I… don’t have very much experience with humans. We thought it’d be a couple of days at least before you woke up. How are you feeling?”
Earl coughed a few times.
“Throat’s raw, head’s pounding, and would kill for anything fried in grease. Pretty standard hangover.”
The detective cut in at that.
“Eh, except for the part where someone poisoned you.”
Earl shrugged.
“Must not have been very good poison.”
The lawman didn't laugh.
“Hydrochloric acid mixed with potassium salts? You can bet your pink ass it’s a good poison. Anyone else here would be dying from a hole in their gut. You been making enemies on the station, colony-boy?”
Earl’s smart alec remark froze as his one semester of biology 101 clawed its way to the front of his brain.
“Oh.”
The detective clicked his pen, ready to start taking notes, even as Earl waved him off.
“No crime here doc, my stomach makes that stuff naturally.”
The doctor blinked even as the detective rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, and I shit thermite. Be serious pal, there’s someone here out to get you.”
Earl held his gaze, and after a few moments, the detective’s annoyed face transformed into numb confusion.
“...Hot damn, you aren’t joking. You’re telling me you can spew concentrated acid on a whim?”
The question hit a little close to him, and Earl felt his ears burn.
“Eh… not… on a whim. More like, after six or seven beers.”
The doctor grabbed a pad and began filling out forms of his own.
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to make sure you don’t do that then. You can’t just go around creating chemical waste every time you get sad. I’m going to have to get in contact with IT, set up some kind of cut off point with the cantina for you.”
Someone down the hall must’ve sanitized something because the odor of strong alcohol wafted into the room. It was all Earl could do to not empty his stomach a second time.
“Aye. That’s fair.”
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seriouslysnape · 3 years
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Roughed Up
Harry Potter x Fem! Reader
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,524
“I don’t mind a night to ourselves,”
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A disgruntled, painful groan escaped the Gryffindor boy underneath you as your hands applied pressure to a rather tense area on his back. He took a sharp inhale at the feeling of your wondrous hands rubbing his sore, battered muscles, only to let that same breath out once your hands moved on to the lesser problem areas. 
“I’m sorry, Harry.” You apologized for causing him discomfort.
“Not your fault. It feels good and bad at the same time.” He replied, his voice strained and slightly muffled in the pillow below his head.
If someone had told you that you’d be spending your Friday night massaging achy knots out of your boyfriend’s back, you probably would have laughed in their face. It was rare for both you and Harry to spend your pre-weekend evening in your dorm. You almost always found something to occupy your time on a more productive day. However, tonight would have to be an exception.
Harry had taken a nasty fall off of his broom earlier in the day during Quidditch, and while you hadn’t been around to see it, you had been told it wasn’t a pretty landing when he hit the ground. Thankfully, his injuries didn’t extend much past a few scrapes and bruises, but he had landed flat on his back, which seemed to take most of the impact. Madam Pomfrey had looked him twice over to make sure he wasn’t seriously hurt, checking for anything from broken bones to internal bleeding. Pomfrey had tried to heal him up with magic, but Harry had denied it since Pomfrey’s healing methods sometimes hurt worse than the actual injury. When she gave him the clear to leave, he came straight to you. He knew it had to have been a pathetic sight the way he hobbled to your dorm, barely able to hold himself upright from all the lingering pain in his core radiating to his back.
Based on the way he had greeted you though, you wouldn’t have even guessed that he was uncomfortable. His grin was blinding as he entered, mainly because he knew he was going to milk this as much as he could to get a little extra tender, loving care from his favorite girl. You had helped him out of his robes, wincing when you saw the multiple large bruises scattered across his body that had already begun to purple. Even his legs had taken some damage when you had helped him shimmy out of his pants. You left him in just his boxers, helping him into your bed and ordering him to lay on his stomach to avoid aggravating his back further.
You had hoped that maybe he’d begin to feel better after lying down for a bit, but after an hour he was still struggling to get comfortable. You took it upon yourself to straddle his back, lathering your favorite lotion onto your hands to provide him some relief. Your hands trailed, kneaded, and rubbed in all the places that hurt him the most. His noises were comical, sometimes coming out as a pitchy whine and others as a low rumble. He was beat, literally and metaphorically.
“And just how did you fall off again?” You asked for clarification. 
Harry was very skilled on a broom, and it wasn’t everyday that he fell off. 
“One of the bludgers blindsided me. I never saw it coming,” He explained, “Well, I did when it hit me.”
You chuckled at his joke, letting your thumbs work at the muscles in his shoulders. The room smelled of Eucalyptus and lavender from your lotion that you had rubbed into his skin, two smells that Harry loved endlessly. You didn’t know this, but sometimes Harry would put a bit of your lotion onto his wrist so he could smell like you. It reminded him of you when you weren’t around. The feeling of your hands attempting to rid him of his irritation was heavenly. Despite his pain, he was happy as could be. 
“Pomfrey didn’t find anything wrong?” You questioned.
Harry shook his head.
“Nope. She just said I’d be sore tomorrow, more than I am now.” He replied, already dreading how he’d feel in the morning. 
Your hand movements slowed to more of a caress, your fingers and palms beginning to cramp from all the rubbing. 
“I’m sorry, my love. I’m glad you’re okay.” You spoke gently.
Harry went to turn, prompting you to raise your hips to allow him to flip over completely. He carefully sank onto his back, sighing at the new support that your mattress was giving him. He put his rounded glasses back on, smirking at being able to see you much clearer now. 
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I bet you didn’t count on your Friday night being spent like this.” He remarked.
You shrugged, leaning down to leave a sweet peck on his lips.
“I don’t mind a night to ourselves,” You hushed out, your lips just brushing over his; “Just you and me with nothing to do sounds awfully enticing.”
Harry hummed in content and agreement. Harry was obviously extremely popular at Hogwarts, and sometimes it was hard for him to find time to be alone with you. He was always being needed for something, and sometimes he wished he could just have peace and quiet for a while. It seemed now that his wish might be coming true.
“Oh, darling, there’s nothing in the world I’d rather be doing than being here with you,” Harry mewled, “My pretty girl…”
His hands trailed away from the tops of your thighs, snaking underneath your skirt and resting on your hips. His fingertips wrapped around the sides of your knickers, his grin spreading wider when he felt the lacy material. He looked up at you expectantly as he tugged at the sides of your panties.
“No, Harry. You’re hurt, baby.” You reminded him, refusing his advances.
His eyes widened and he gave a sympathetic pout, jutting his lower lip out in protest.
“I’m not hurt! I’m just sore!” He argued.
“Harry, you fell OFF of your broom. Look how roughed up you are.” You said, pointing to one particularly nasty looking bruise just below his ribs.
“I’m feeling better...honestly.” He claimed, but avoided eye contact with you.
You knew he was lying, a devious sneer appearing on your face as you rolled your hips forward, jostling his body in a way that sent a wave of sharp pain through him. He yelped at the less than pleasant sensation, not even trying to play it off.
“That’s what I thought.” You answered, carefully moving off of him and the bed.
Harry scrambled up when he realized you were getting up, his arm wrapping around his core instinctively when he agitated it from moving so quickly.
“Where are you going? Please, don’t leave.” He blubbered, struggling to stay up on his knees that were sunken into the mattress.
You laughed lightly, looking at him with a warm smile on your features.
“I’m just going to my desk. You need to rest.” You told him, motioning towards your workspace on the other side of the room.
“But baby,” He whimpered, “I’m hurt. Come lay with me. Please?” He requested, holding his arms out to you.
“I thought you were ‘feeling better’?” You chided, putting your hands on your hips.
He groaned, throwing his head back in distaste.
“[Y/N], please come here,” He asked again, “Pretty please?”
You laughed again at the sight of him so needy for just even an ounce of attention. He was always so clingy behind closed doors, one of the many things that you liked about him that you kept private. His flushed cheeks and ruffled hair was honestly an adorable sight. You couldn’t help but give in.
“Okay, I’m coming.” You alerted him.
Harry’s eyes brightened in victory, yanking back the covers and making room for you to snuggle in bed with him. You were careful not to press yourself against him too hard, but he didn’t seem too concerned. He peppered you with kisses, all over your face and neck. He was so excited to just be with you that he could hardly contain himself. You giggled under his touch, squirming when he kissed and sucked on areas that were your sweet spots. He thrived off of your joyful noises and being in your presence. It always made him so happy when you were happy. His attack of affection paused when he pulled away to look at you, your smile fading into a worried frown when you thought he might’ve hurt himself more.
“Are you okay?” You asked.
In reality, he just wanted to look at you. He wanted to study your eyes and hair and all the things that he loved so dearly. He saw his future every time he looked at you. He saw his purpose for living when he looked into your eyes. He saw his life with you. He wanted to spend every moment of every day with you and no one else.
Because you were his forever.
“Yeah. I’m absolutely perfect.”
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
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🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Nie Huaisang hasn’t found anyone to do the body sacrifice ritual for him, and so in desperation he tries it himself. However, the ritual was not designed with a Nie cultivator in mind—something Nie Huaisang does not realize until he’s doubled over on the floor, far too close to a qi deviation, because his (admittedly tiny) saber spirit has been replaced with Wei Wuxian.
ao3
Well, that was the dumbest thing ever.
The thought so closely matched Wei Wuxian’s that he didn’t even notice that it wasn’t his own.
How could you be so stupid? Wei Wuxian tried to shout at Nie Huaisang, who was curled up gasping on the floor. The floor, which was stained with Nie Huaisang's own blood, with cuts he had made himself on himself, with the ancient body sacrifice summoning that – that –
Don’t you realize that you’d be gone? You absolute idiot! Wei Wuxian howled, even though he wasn’t actually a person right now. He didn’t know what he was, a ghost or spirit, maybe, but he was there and he was angry and Nie Huaisang’s arms were covered in blood from where he’d cut himself up in order to destroy his own soul – Nie Huaisang, the mincing sensitive little master who would complain for three weeks about having stubbed his toe! – and his robes that he had always taken such great care to keep clean and neat were a mess and he was bleeding from the nose and eyes and ears because something had gone wrong. Something had gone wrong, and Wei Wuxian hated to be grateful for it because he didn’t want to be brought back by Nie Huaisang’s death.
Not anyone’s death, really, but definitely not Nie Huaisang, who’d never hurt him or treated him badly. Even when the whole world had hated and reviled Wei Wuxian, isolating him in Yiling on the Burial Mounds, Nie Huaisang hadn’t – he’d waved jauntily to him during Phoenix Mountain, and Wei Wuxian had never doubted that if he’d somehow found his way to Qinghe, Nie Huaisang would have treated him just the same as always.
You – you –! You good-for-nothing!
“Don’t be rude,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, slowly uncurling. “Didn’t bring you back to be rude to me.”
You know what you’ve done, then? You could have died!
“Was I supposed to let someone else do it?” Nie Huaisang rubbed at his face with his sleeve, then frowned at the blood on it. “I thought about it, but I really just – couldn’t.”
So you decided to kill yourself?
“It’s like you said, Wei-xiong. I’m a good-for-nothing. I couldn’t – I can’t – I can’t fix this. So why not bring back someone who can?”
Wei Wuxian didn’t have words to express how much that was not all right with him.
Go fix yourself, he ordered. I don't care what 'this' is; I’m not talking to you until you get cleaned up.
“After all that work I did? Wei-xiong…”
Nope! You’re not dying, so you can get cleaned up before we talk, and that’s that. I still can’t believe you nearly – I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted anyone to get hurt for me.
“Wei-xiong, you’re being silly. Who said I did it for you?”
Wei Wuxian would have stared if he had eyes.
“I did it for me,” Nie Huaisang said, and finally he got up properly and staggered over to a basin to start washing himself clean. “Obviously! I'm incredibly self-absorbed. It’s about what I need from you…hey, how did you come back? I thought the ritual only worked if I died.”
It should have, Wei Wuxian agreed, unwillingly intrigued by it. I don’t know, actually. It’s strange: it should have either worked, in which case you’d be dead and I’d be possessing your body, or else not worked at all, in which case I shouldn’t be here.
“I always mess things up.”
No, really, I don’t think you messed this up? The array is perfect. There’s no reason for it not to have worked.
“These cuts won’t heal,” Nie Huaisang observed, looking at his arms. “Did I accidentally curse myself to fulfill my obligations? Ugh, why.”
As the person you were going to impose said obligations on, I’m now going to laugh at you. Hahahahaha –
“Shut up, Wei-xiong. Where are you, anyway? I don’t see any ghostly figures that might be you, and anyway, we’re in the Unclean Realm; there are ghost-repelling arrays in every stone.”
I don’t know, Wei Wuxian said, and then something else said, Ghost-repelling arrays only repel ghosts.
At first Wei Wuxian thought that it was Nie Huaisang who had said that, and he was about to ask what he meant by that, only Nie Huaisang got there first and said, “What do you mean, Wei-xiong? Are you not a ghost?”
I didn’t say that, Wei Wuxian said. That – wasn’t me.
“Who was it?”
Me.
“…Wei-xiong…?”
No, that wasn’t me. I mean, it wasn’t me that said ‘me’ just now!
Of course not, the voice said, and it was Wei Wuxian’s voice – or not-voice, anyway, whatever it was that he was using to communicate – but not Wei Wuxian speaking. It was me, of course. Master forgot to account for me in his array.
What? Wei Wuxian asked, utterly confused, but apparently that made more sense to Nie Huaisang because his knees went weak and he fell down on his ass.
“Aituan?” he gasped. “I – what – is that you?”
Yes.
Can I interrupt? Wei Wuxian asked. Who – or what – is Aituan?
“My saber!”
Your – what?!
Nie Huaisang attempted to explain. It ended up being a fairly long explanation, involving his sect’s cultivation style, saber spirits, and his own personal saber spirit, which was named Aituan, and which Nie Huaisang swore up and down did not speak prior to this.
Of course not, the voice now known as Aituan said irritably. Why would I speak? I’m a saber. We’re sensible, not like you humans – but now you’ve shoved a human spirit in with me, so what am I supposed to do? Not use his abilities as my own?
I feel like I should feel violated, Wei Wuxian said.
“When in fact you think it’s really neat?”
…yeah, basically.
Aituan huffed. Can we get back to the part where we plan a murder? he (it?) whined.
Sorry, Aituan, Wei Wuxian said. No murder.
“Uh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Actually, about that…”
-
I think we should kill him.
“I can’t do that!”
Dunno, I think Aituan has a point, Wei Wuxian said. We should probably just kill him.
“You’re supposed to be helping me, Wei-xiong!”
I’m helping! I’m a saber now, I can totally help you stab him.
“Not helpful!”
I like this human, Aituan declared. Good human. Proper blade on his hilt.
You mean head on my shoulders?
Whatever.
Nie Huaisang threw his hands up in annoyance. “Would either of you like to remember the part where I can’t actually fight? San-ge would beat me black and blue if I so much as picked up a pocket-knife in his presence!”
Get someone else to help, Wei Wuxian suggested pitilessly.
“I tried! You!”
Someone else.
“Like who?”
Hmm. Lan Zhan? He’s great.
“I don’t know. He’s er-ge’s brother, isn’t he? He might not believe me…” Nie hUaisang grimaced. “He hasn’t been much inclined to believe me before.”
Why doesn’t the loudmouth do the talking? Aituan suggested.
Oh, that’s a good idea! Lan Zhan was always inclined to listen to me before.
“I thought you said he hated you?”
He still listened!
Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh.
Your other alternative is stabbing your enemy directly, Aituan said. If you’d like to give it a try…
“…I’ll talk to Lan Zhan.”
-
“I can’t believe you’re perving after my saber,” Nie Huaisang complained.
I can’t believe Lan Zhan likes me! I mean, likes me!
I can’t believe I’m still stuck here with you idiots. Can I go share bodies with Baxia instead?
Lan Wangji just looked awkward.
Some people might mistake it for looking noble and genteel, but by now they all knew: it was just him being horribly awkward.
“I have no such intentions,” he said stiffly. “Only – if it was possible for Wei Ying to exit the saber…”
Nie Huaisang grimaced, humor falling away. “I…don’t really know about that.”
Wait, wait, wait. If I can’t – if I’m stuck as a saber – I can’t – but I really want to kiss Lan Zhan! This isn’t fair! I don’t want to have to wait until I reincarnate.
You won’t reincarnate, Aituan said. You’re a saber. Unless we’re melted down or get ground down by time…
No!
“Surely there has to be some way. Aituan, stop being a part of the problem and start being a part of the solution.”
Fine. Let him possess you.
“…what.”
He just needs a human body, right? Let him possess you. Problem solved.
I can do that?
Technically, I can do that, and you can do it because I can do it. But we’d need Master’s permission.
“There are many, many, many books about why you don’t grant your saber permission to possess you. Anyway, that’s my body!”
Yeah, I guess it would be weird for you to kiss Lan Zhan, would it?
“I mean, not really? He’s very pretty. I could swing it.”
You could?
“…you could swing what,” Lan Wangji said.
“Having Wei-xiong possess me,” Nie Huaisang explained. “So that he and you can get the whole missed opportunity thing out of your system.”
Lan Wangji’s face did a few strange things.
"Assuming that it wouldn't be an issue for you, that is, it being me on the other side..."
"No," Lan Wangji said, and cleared his throat. "That would be - fine."
Ooooooh. Does Lan Zhan like you, too?
"What? No. Don't be ridiculous, Lan Zhan doesn't like me like that."
He'd be willing to kiss you.
"Physical attraction isn't the same thing," Nie Huaisang argued. "Lan Zhan, you're with me on this, right? You wouldn't be interested in -"
Lan Wangji cut him off.
A few moments later, he pulled back and said, thoughtfully, "As suspected. It is fine."
Nie Huaisang opened and closed his mouth a few times.
"...well then," he said blankly, then frowned. “Aituan, can I revoke permission for possession?”
No idea. You'd just have to trust that we'd give it back; it's a risk you'd have to take.
“…well, as illustrated, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had. Let’s try it, and then once everyone’s a little more focused we can go do what we need to do. Sound good?”
-
“I really didn’t expect you to start a relationship Nie Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said to Lan Wangji, not long before the end. He sounded deeply puzzled. “I didn’t think you liked him like that.”
“Not by himself,” Lan Wangji said with a shrug. “But he’s good in company.”
“…you’re with other people too? Both of you?”
“Mm.”
Lan Xichen, knowing his younger brother’s reticent temper, especially of late, declined to ask who the other parties were. “Doesn’t that make things crowded?” he asked instead.
“…surprisingly no,” Lan Wangji said. “Not as much as you’d think.”
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theirbbygirl · 3 years
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Second Lead Syndrome
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Word Count: ~8.7k words
liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert
Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?
Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!) 
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I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.
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Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life. 
I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours).  From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults. 
The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted.  Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily. 
One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe. 
Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night. 
Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.
At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated. 
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I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise. 
“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.
“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.
Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back. 
“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.
I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.
“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry. 
Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.
“Sorry what was that?” I ask.
“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.
“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that. 
Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.
“Unfortunately I do.” 
That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions. 
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It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens. 
I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom. 
“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.” 
“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen. 
“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.
“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.
“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone. 
Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket. 
“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.
“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.” 
“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?” 
“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.
“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”
“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.” 
“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.
“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.
“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.
“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode. 
The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story. 
Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.
A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain. 
We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?
When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering. 
I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to. 
Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me. 
I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.
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3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self. 
Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness. 
One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern. 
A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.
“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks. 
“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.
“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head. 
“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”
“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.” 
“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.
“You like Minho.”
“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”
“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.
“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.” 
“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?” 
“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.” 
“So maybe he doesn’t then.” 
“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile. 
Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”
“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.
“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.
“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks. 
While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.
Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept. 
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A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.
Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic. 
Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.
A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her. 
It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee. 
All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do. 
Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart. 
With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet. 
Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.
“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.
“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.
“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?” 
“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.” 
“Hyunjin I-“
“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.
“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.” 
“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.
I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it. 
“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?” 
“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own. 
“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.
“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.” 
I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?” 
“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”
Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.” 
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Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked. 
Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.” 
Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo. 
The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon. 
Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to. 
It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces. 
“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.
“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly. 
My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.
Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.
“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.
“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.
Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.” 
The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.
“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.” 
There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.
“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table. 
I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.
“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.
“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.
“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.
“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.
“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.
“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind. 
“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes. 
Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment. 
Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing. 
“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away. 
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The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message. 
to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]
hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?
My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes. 
from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]
sure, i can be there
to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]
sweet, i’ll see you there
I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well. 
I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner. 
10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen. 
“Hey.” I smile at him.
“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”
“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?” 
“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.
“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety. 
“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion. 
“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.” 
“What?” He asks.
How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.” 
“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.
I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.” 
“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?” 
“I only told them last night.”
“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.
“Minho I-“
“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”
“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”
“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it. 
“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile. 
After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat. 
“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest. 
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The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university. 
Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go. 
Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other. 
“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.
“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders. 
“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug. 
I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person. 
I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.
“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.
“Me too.” And that’s all I can say. 
I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.
Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not. 
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Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly. 
The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with. 
My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home. 
Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to. 
I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives. 
I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho. 
I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.
“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”
“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”
“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”
“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.
“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”
“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!” 
“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”
“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”
“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?” 
“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?” 
“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?” 
“Maybe five?”
“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.
“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door. 
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I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home. 
After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor. 
I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there. 
“Minho?” I say as I walk closer. 
“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug. 
“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.
“Sure.” He responds. 
I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.
Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up. 
“You got a cat?” Minho asks.
“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.
“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.” 
“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?” 
“Sure.” 
“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.
I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all. 
I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.
“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.
“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him. 
The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch. 
Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.
“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?” 
“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.
“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?” 
“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”
“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond. 
An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.
“How’s… How are you and Ahra?” 
“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well. 
“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.” 
“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.
“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.” 
“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.
“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.
“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.
“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”  
I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.” 
“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?” 
I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.
“For?”
“Just feelings for somebody.”
“Is it Hyunjin?”
“No.”
“Chan?”
“Nope.”
“Changbin?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Me?”
I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”
“Wait- What? What are you talking about?” 
Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”
He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“
“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post. 
“Minho…” I let out quietly.
“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again. 
“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away. 
“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry.” I whisper.
“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin. 
“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.
“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.” 
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair. 
“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes. 
Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time. 
In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after. 
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Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there. 
But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)
if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))
-nyx
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nalu4emily · 3 years
Text
Sickly Sweet
This little short came about while I was looking for writing prompts. The ones I used for this were "I feel thoroughly disgusting." "We need to get you into a different shirt, you've sweat through that one." and "Is that my shirt? Looks like I'm gonna have to burn it now that you've contaminated it!"
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the NALU fluffiness!
x
She was dying.
Well, not exactly... But damn, did she feel terrible.
She wasn't sure when it'd happened; in the guild? Out on a mission? Who knows?
Whatever sickness this was, it was bad. Her body ached like she'd been beaten with a stick over and over again, and her heart pounded so loudly it felt like it might blow through her rib cage. The throbbing headache that travelled from her face to the back of her neck, that burned her eyes like a really bad hangover, seemed to only get worse if she tried to move. And that wasn't even the start of it.
She lay there, under thick blankets piled high on top of her shivering self in a bid to warm up, or 'sweat it out' as she'd heard others say, but it was no use. Hours she'd laid there feeling too hot and then too cold; too sleepy but too restless to allow herself the rest she so desperately needed.
What she wouldn't give for just a bit of respite? To be able to fall asleep and give her body that extra time to recuperate.
No… the girl knew what she needed, there was only one thing for it, and that was Wendy.
The young mage could heal her in a heartbeat, then she'd be free to go about her day—probably find Natsu, and go on another mission or whatever.
"Lucy?"
Speak of the devil.
"Luce… Whatcha doing under all that? You tryna hide from someone?"
When had he sneaked in? She hadn't heard the window go. Then again, she could hear barely anything under the thumping of her own pulse in her ears.
This was so bothersome. She really didn't have the strength to entertain guests today, let alone one like Natsu. Sleep was her main objective right now.
"Lucy, I-" He gasped suddenly, whipping back the covers without warning, "Whoa-!"
"H-Hey! Give them back!" Trying to shout, her throat simply wouldn't allow the sound to come out. She'd croaked instead, using the tiny amount of strength she had left to yank the duvets back over her form, shuddering from the gust it'd created.
Shocked by just how sickly his partner was, Natsu stared wide eyed for a moment at the heap of shaking blankets in front of him. He'd only popped in to see why she hadn't been to the guild, and now it was all too clear, "Luce, you look awful…"
"G-Gee, thanks Natsu. Maybe it's because I feel awful?" She bit back, feeling irritable as well as everything else now.
Placing his hands on his hips, with eyes never leaving the bed, he listened in to the soft whimpers and grunts escaping her every breath, "Ya know, if you've got a fever, covering yourself like that is only going to make it worse." He knew he was treading a thin line, but he didn't care.
"I-I'm cold…"
"But your body isn't, I can feel the heat from here. You're probably sweating up a storm in there." He wanted to help, really, only Lucy had to let him first, and she could be pretty darn stubborn when she wanted, "And that's not good for anybody that's sick."
He was right, she knew that, but the mere thought of exposing her goose pimpled flesh to the open air made her teeth chatter even harder.
"Come on, Luce, let me help. You wanna feel better right?" Ever so carefully, he hooked his fingers under the blankets again, and slowly eased them upwards, his voice going from muffled to clear as he peeked in on the jittery girl. Meeting no resistance, he continued to peel it back, revealing the blonde that'd huddled in like a foetus to save some of the warmth she'd built up, "You're drenched!"
Opening her dry eyes for the first time since he'd got there, she blearily looked up at him, the concern etched into his face making her feel even more vulnerable, "I… I don't feel well, Natsu."
"I know you don't, Luce. But it's gonna be alright, because I'll look after you." He smiled at her, with that warm, comforting grin she'd seen so many times, and it filled her with reassurance, "Can you sit up? I'm sure laying in a wet bed is no fun…"
It wasn't, now that Lucy thought about it. In fact, it was incredibly uncomfortable and that only made her feel worse. Holding onto her throbbing head, she eased herself up onto her butt, her body feeling weaker than it had done in some time and leant herself against the headboard.
Taking a few sips of the water that Natsu had given her, she let the cool liquid glide down her pin-like throat, soothing it's painful prickle.
"Thanks Natsu." She breathed heavily, "Ugh… I feel thoroughly disgusting..." She wasn't exaggerating either, her body was soaked through, having seeped onto her clothes, keeping her skin damp and unbearably cold.
"We need to get you into a different shirt, you've sweat through that one." The fire mage said, walking over to the dresser, and pulling a random top from it to give to her, "Here, at least it'll be dry."
She took it from him and grimaced, barely believing what she was about to ask of her best friend, "I-I, um… C-Can you help me put it on? I don't have the energy…" Her blush reached the tips of her ears, unable to look at the boy, who, seemed more than willing to assist.
"Sure thing! Only, you can't hit me for looking." A 'Lucy punch' hurt, and this time it wouldn't be his fault.
"I-I won't…" Her eyes never quite meeting his, too shy, too embarrassed by what she'd asked him to do… Drunk Lucy never seemed to have this problem.
Satisfied that he wouldn't be getting a foot to the face, he gently lifted her saturated top above her head, careful to keep his eyes anywhere but her chest. Not that he even got a chance—her hands quickly came up to shield them from his view, and a pang of disappointment hit him straight in the gut.
"I dunno why you're covering yourself. It's not like I ain't seen it before." He murmured, grabbing the clean shirt to pull over her head, "Don't you trust me?"
"O-Of course… I just- I guess it's just a habit." She shrugged, releasing herself to push her arms through the sleeves, his eyes now focused solely on hers, making her heart beat for an entirely different reason this time.
"If you say so." He glanced down, glad to see Lucy in something loose and dry, when he paused, head tilting to the side, "Wait, isn't that-?" Cocking his brow, he marvelled at the shirt sitting so nicely around the blonde's body, smirking up at her with that daring face of his.
"What? What is it?"
"Isn't that my shirt?" He asked, wondering what the hell it was doing folded so neatly in Lucy's drawers—her pyjama drawer to be exact, "Care to explain, Lucy?" Her name drooled off his tongue, his voice laced with tease.
"O-Oh, um… w-well, it kinda… ya know…" Her face grew redder by the second, with his eyes piercing into her very soul.
Busted!
He'd wondered where that'd gone.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to burn it now that you've contaminated it!" He sniggered, earning a very unimpressed glare from the celestial mage.
"That's a big word coming from a guy that leaves his clothes in other people's houses!" She retorted, the corners of her lips raising as they both broke out into laughter.
"Fine, I guess you can keep it…" He said, placing a wet cloth on her forehead to cool her flushed face down.
"Like I was gonna give it back!" She chuckled again, feeling a new warmth seeping into her rattling bones, a warmth that always accompanied the dragon slayer. Pulling the boy up onto the bed, she laid herself down onto his chest and finally sighed in relief, "Thanks, Natsu. You always know how to make me feel… better..."
He cuddled close, smiling as she began to drift off, glad he'd been able to make her feel more comfortable at least, "Anytime, Luce!"
Her aches and pains were forgotten, and her shivers began to ease as she let the familiarity of Natsu's comforting presence take her to a place of peace and calm.
Maybe, she didn't need Wendy after all?
Thanks for reading! 
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sukirichi · 4 years
Text
illusion
— does one dare wake up from the illusion of love?
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meal order: 🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” 
warnings: attempted murder, sexual content, character death, angst, dark themes of violence, unedited fic 
note: thank you for the request! it was really challenging to write this but i’m all up for trying new things!
word count: 4k+
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“Don’t think I don’t know you’re slacking.”
You glared at the dark haired man before you who was greedily sucking on a cigarette, the cloudy puffs of smoke breathed into your face. “Shut up, Toji,” you pressed your lips before waving your hand to get rid of the smoke. He was so rude, but because he was stronger and a far more skilled than you were, you wouldn’t dare fight back or complain. He knew this too; a smug smirk painting his dark, handsome features. “I’m just struggling, is all.”
“You, struggling?” his head tipped back in laughter, “Weren’t you so arrogant that you’d do anything for money?”
“And I still will. There’s just a sudden change of circumstances.”
“Such as?” he raised a brow challengingly, huge arms crossed over his equally muscular chest. Leaning over your window like that with the lights dimmed low, Toji looked absolutely threatening. You had no qualms that he’d rip your head off if given the order and enough money to do so, so you had to be careful with your words lest you wanted to die – or worse; he becomes a victim of this merciless man.
You narrowed your eyes, fists bunching up to your ripped black jeans. “A change of mind.”
“It seems like you had a change of heart too,” he noted, and you cursed inwardly. Fuck, of course he’d notice. Before you could come on the defense, Toji pushed himself away from the window with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “But whatever. Good luck, kid. I’ll just hope that you get to kill your target before the bosses kill you first.”
“I’m not going to die. It’s not like I changed or anything.”
“Yeah, not like you’re giggling just down the hall staring at your target’s picture,” he rolled his eyes, snorting to himself. “Because that’s totally normal for us assassins, right?”
“Oh, shut up, Toji. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?”
“I’m never missing the opportunity to mess with ya, kid,” you held back a groan when he messed up your hair, your precious untouchable hair. “Oh, and the boss called. He said if we still don’t have the head by tonight, I’m being sent in,” your heart dropped at his words, silence coating the room. Nothing but your frantic heartbeat pulsed at the tip of your tongue as your hands grew sweaty and slippery, but Toji’s next words had you looking up at him with wide eyes. “Go and get your precious lover before I come around, kid. I’m not going to be nice just for you.”
Was it a warning? A threat? A heads-up? Fuck, nothing mattered anymore – you had to finish your mission before it was too late.
The sound of Toji slamming the door behind you finally snapped you from your dazed state. Greeting you was the sight of your dark, lifeless room – empty and gray like how you were. Before you met him. But things were different now; in your mission of bringing death and shedding blood, you came across the person who gave you life and meaning to this…this bland and pathetic excuse of a life.
If you didn’t move sooner, it would be too late.
Teeth gritted, you were quick on your feet as you swiped up your handy blade, bandages wrapping around your fists for protection before you followed Toji out, only this time, the man was already gone.
You needed to move. Now.
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Noritoshi stepped inside his room with a soft sigh, eyes closed and pretty, masculine hands loosening his inner shirt. Perhaps it was because his window was still kept shut and not a sound could be heard from his room that he let his guard down, and nothing but a slight hiss fell from his lips when you lunged at him, blade pressed against his neck.
He was unable to move with one of your arms keeping his arms pinned to his own body, the other holding the blade firmly to his delicate skin. A slight trickle of blood dripped down his porcelain skin when you edged it a little harder, the shaky inhale from Noritoshi causing your mind to fall into ruin. But not now – you wouldn’t give in right now. You had a mission to finish; one you had to complete successfully like you always did.
“What are you doing?” He asked calmly, voice soothing and still so gentle even as you breathed hard on his ear. There was no trace of anger or even malice – just the usual doting kindness Noritoshi always gave just for you. You hated it; hated every single about him. “How did you get in here?”
“I need to kill you.”
“You’re still going through with that?” his fingers caressed your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from you when Noritoshi only leaned closer to your touch, tilting his head so he could peer into your blazing eyes. “I thought we were past this already.”
You laughed at his words before sneering, “This doesn’t change anything. I will kill you somehow, Noritoshi Kamo. And when I’ve got your head in the palm of my hands, I’ll be filthy rich.”
“Then why don’t you get it over with?” he stepped closer to the blade itself, almost pushing you to the edge with his movements. “Come here and see if you’re strong enough.”
You growled threateningly when more blood trailed down and stained his shirt. Instantly, you shoved your blade away from him until it switched to one of his tied side bangs, the hair falling onto the ground with a thump. “Testing me, huh? Are you doubting my skills, Kamo?”
“Not the least bit, no,” he shook his head, refusing to move from your suffocating hold. If anything, he made himself comfortable in your arms, a lopsided smile on his annoyingly handsome features.
You’ve heard rumors that your target was popular among his people and even had countless marriage proposals already; one you didn’t believe until you met the man himself, and as if reminding you of the difficulty of the situation, you just had to be one of those women who nearly fell at his feet. But could anyone blame you? Which sane person would be able to uphold their mission when Noritoshi Kamo leaned close like that, the tip of his nose brushing yours and the warmth of his breath kissing your lips?
“I’ve heard of you – you’ve got quite the reputation,” his dark eyes trailed over your lips that were fallen open, your breathing still hard and ragged. Noritoshi hummed to himself, his tongue darting out to moisten his pink flesh. “Which is why I can’t seem to comprehend why I’m still alive. Could it be there’s something else that you want more than money?”
“Perhaps I do,” you smirked, trying to ignore the way you felt like you were the one being held captive this time. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Choose the intelligent option, of course. I’ll negotiate with you.”
“And if what I want is unattainable?”
His response came as a reflex: “Nothing is unattainable with money.”
“Always the confident one, huh, Kamo?” you scoffed with a ‘tsk’ of your tongue, “One day, I’m going to break this noble leader act of yours. Soon, you’ll fall into this same trap of hell as I have, and maybe then we’ll both be a little crazy,” at your suggestion, Noritoshi only raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as he released a soft sight. You couldn’t read his face and it irked you to no end, a grin masking your irritation as you twirled the blade around your fingers. “What’s wrong, Kamo? Cat got your tongue?”
“Hmm. You really are beautiful, you know that?”
“Huh?” you stepped back as you fell aghast, your jaw dropping while Noritoshi only smiled. Fuck that smile – he had no business being this gorgeous, and you only sneered louder when his skin began to heal. “You out of your mind, Kamo? Are you forgetting who I am?”
“The pretty assassin who’s been out to get me for months now but still hasn’t killed me for whatever odd reason?” Your face burned at the way he nonchalantly said it, but Noritoshi didn’t give you time to recover as he stepped forwards, closer, his hands brushing up against the pads of your cheek. “No, I haven’t forgotten who you are. I could never forget you – not when you’ve been chasing me and we’ve been playing this game of chase for who knows how long.”
“Careful, Kamo. What would your precious elders say if they find out you’re fraternizing with the enemy?” you chuckled at the image of Noritoshi having his ear talked down by those annoying, traditional elders, but the smile fell off your face when Noritoshi continued to stare at you. “Wait, did you just call me pretty? Like, as in, pretty pretty?”
“Yes, and now you’re blushing like crazy,” he booped your nose, firing up the bubbling anger inside you. How dare he mock you like this! Your feet planted on the ground as you prepared to lunge at him when Noritoshi stilled, his strong arms wrapping around your wrist tight enough that even you froze at how strong he was. Had he been holding back on you this whole time? Could he have really easily fought back against you but chose not to for whatever messed up reason?
Before you could get your answer, Noritoshi’s eyes slid over to yours, this time wide with worry. The smile left his face. “You should leave. They’re coming.”
You blinked back up at him helplessly, your body almost turning limp. Seeing that you weren’t moving fast enough, Noritoshi frowned, wrapping your fingers tighter around your blade before pointing to his window where you’d broken in a while ago. “You need to go. Now.”
“C-Can I see you again tonight?” you found yourself asking, legs already perched on the windowsill. You knew it was pathetic, to have trembling pouty lips when you were seconds away from making a deadly fall and yet you were more worried about him. The thought of Toji coming the moment he heard you still hadn’t killed Noritoshi made your hands and legs shake, heart clenching painfully with fear. Noritoshi may be strong, but he was nothing against Toji. “I want to see you again,” and again and again and again – for as long as you were allowed.
Though you’d never tell him that.
Not that you needed to, though, because Noritoshi could read you better than yourself, and he only smiled, never making fun of how vulnerable and horrible you were at keeping your feelings a secret. You were too easy to read sometimes, or maybe he just had a skill of knowing everything that ran in your mind.
“Would it stop you if I said no?”
“Of course not,” you frowned, then looked out the setting sun that held an ominous vibe to it now. Eyes closed and a sad heart begging to be closer to him, you buried it all deep within, turning to Noritoshi with an aching smile. “Live your life to the fullest, Kamo. This might just be your last day.”
Noritoshi chuckled softly to himself. “I’ll keep the windows open, then.”
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It was way past midnight, and neither you nor Toji came around. He’d already heard that someone else was sent for him due to his precious little lover falling in love with him at first sight that caused her to fail her mission, and Noritoshi paced around his room, arms folded on his chest as he thought of the different ways they could’ve executed you already.
He hadn’t known you for a long enough time to know everything about you. It didn’t help that you weren’t the most open either, refusing to tell him more about your life and the people you worked for whenever he asked.
Noritoshi understood your discomfort when it came to sensitive topics like that.
It wasn’t easy, after all, to talk about the countless people whose lives you’d taken for money prior to meeting him. Noritoshi was well-aware he was another name on your hit list that could be crossed out had it been under different circumstances; circumstances such as him easily defeating you on the first day you met him before he had you pinned to the ground, both your bodies panting heavily.
One thing led to another, and Noritoshi grew an obsession with you.
It was fucked up, to say the least – that he actually looked forward to having you jump on him out of nowhere, bringing different weapons and techniques for various ways to kill him this time.
There was one time you both went out on a date, glasses covering your eyes and hats pulled over so no one would recognize any of you walking into the dark movie theatre. None of you could pay attention to the movie when you placed yourself in his lap, and suddenly he felt so thankful he bought the whole theatre for himself because he sure as hell couldn’t keep his voice down while you rode his dick like he was just a mere plaything.
Your hands then travelled around his neck as you pulled him in for a searing kiss. Second by second, his vision grew faint with his head dizzy, the air being knocked out of him as you crushed his windpipe with increasing pressure.
He wasn’t surprised that you would try to kill him while cumming around his cock – you were the most painful pleasure that could kill him, literally – and he had to push you off so hard your head hit the ground until you were knocked out.
Noritoshi had lost count of the times you tried to kill him, purely because you always tried to seduce him one way or another.
He believed it was one of your strategies into luring your prey right into your trap, which he fell for every single time. The rational part of himself (which wasn’t that much when it came to you to begin with) told him to increase his security, to always be prepared and have some sort of weapon or blood readied out to defend himself, but him being him, he always kept the window unlocked.
Noritoshi was reminded of his mistakes when his back was harshly kicked, his arm painfully bent and pressed to his lower back while your knee planted itself onto his spine, your sweet laughter bouncing from his ears. “Wasn’t expecting me, Kamo?” you teased, twisting his arm hard enough that he winced at the pain. “I thought you’d be ready.”
“I’m never ready for you, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Even in his slightly limped state, Noritoshi managed a smile. “Why? Does it make you want to kill me less?”
“Oh, you’re vermin, Kamo. My blood boils every time I see you!”
Perhaps you weren’t any better than him. You let your guard down too easily when it came to your emotions flaring up, and before you knew it, Noritoshi had pushed himself off the ground and flipped you under him, knee planted between your legs and your arms pinned to your side.
Your blade fell with a pathetic clang on the floor.
You struggled against his hold despite the comfort of having him above you like this, his gorgeous muscles displayed through his poor excuse of a shirt. Noritoshi only slammed your arms harder on the ground to keep you immobile, his words gentle and too sweet in comparison to his roughness.
He leaned closer, eyes filled with adoration and lust staring down at you. You thought he would kiss you when his lips suddenly turned the other way, his tongue prodding on the lobe of your ear that had you gasping underneath him.
The sound of your breathy whines had his blood shooting straight up onto his cock, pressing his now hardening erection against your heated core that he’d had the privilege of fucking and eating countless of times before – though he’d never get tired of it; he would never get tired of you.
“Then why do you keep coming back?”
“What else, idiot?”
Your irritated response had him pulling him back, his brows furrowed as he loosened his hold on you. Just like that, Noritoshi let go of you, his back hitting his bed frame as he frowned, pointing to himself in disbelief. “Wait, are you flirting me?”
That earned him a roll of your eyes in response. You pushed yourself up from the floor and glared at him, massaging the bruises that would form into your skin soon. “Have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”
“I thought getting me to bed was one of your ways to kill me,” he scratched his head, and he really shouldn’t be looking that cute. “I don’t know whether to be afraid or flattered—”
Noritoshi wouldn’t stop rambling on and on about how this whole time, he had no idea you liked him back and he’d endlessly chastised himself for falling for an assassin. Quite frankly, you had too much of his endless babbling that you pushed him until he fell on the bed, not wasting any time before you planted yourself on his lap and sitting on it like a throne.
“Shut up and kiss me, Kamo.”
When you grinded on his erection, Noritoshi lost it. He no longer had control of himself before he kissed you madly, his hands bunching your shirt up and helping you fling it to the side. Pupils blown wide as if he’d never seen you bare before, Noritoshi pushed the cups of your bra above your breasts, his lips latching onto a perky nipple while his other hand tweaked it between his fingers.
Your head fell back in pleasure as you let him ravage you, soft little gasps leaving your lips while you rode his thigh.
Noritoshi groaned into your breasts at the sight of you eagerly fucking yourself on his thigh, moaning louder when he clenched and you bounced you above his muscle.
“If I’d known you’d look this beautiful riding me like this,” his mouth left your lips before he settled onto your neck instead, nipping and tugging at the skin until he was sure he’d have you marked black and blue. “I would’ve opened my windows long ago,” he cupped your breasts, his cock twitching in his pants as you rubbed your clit all over his pants, mewling when one of his fingers rubbed at your clothed folds. “Do you think it’s fate?”
You laughed through the drunken state of pleasure, “You’re asking me if it’s fate that I’m sent to kill you but I’m fucking you here instead?”
“That’s one way to word it.”
“I don’t know, I don’t care,” your head fell on his shoulders as you clenched around nothing. Noritoshi took it upon himself to tug your panties to the side, his cock only hardening further because you wore a skirt for him tonight, almost as if you were expecting to be fucked senseless by his dick.
Well, if that was your wish, then who was he to deny you?
The feeling of you sliding down his length had you both moaning and groaning, the stretch of him feeling you up to the brim too magnificent to describe. Noritoshi pulled you closer until your tits were right at his face, free for him to kiss and worship. You whimpered when Noritoshi’s large hands cupped your ass to bring you upwards, your moan shattered and shaky as he let gravity drop you down his thick length, the pattern of you bouncing onto him sending heat all over your body.
“One thing’s for sure,” you managed through gritted teeth, “It’s definitely an unfortunate curse that I can’t kill you because I’m so in love with you.”
Noritoshi stopped with his movements, letting you rest at the base of his cock instead while you caught your breaths. Your eyes were closed, fingers clenching tight at the material of his shirt. Noritoshi didn’t need for you to tell him more to understand that you were risking a lot more than he was for falling with one another, because you’ve failed your mission, and a failed mission always guaranteed a most painful death.
“Hey,” Noritoshi tapped your cheek, “Hey, look at me,” he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him, and his gaze softened when tears shone into those pretty eyes of yours. You’ve never let him see you cry before, but you couldn’t help it, teeth sinking into your lip to stop the tears from flowing while Noritoshi’s strong arms wrapped around you comfortingly. “I’ll protect you, okay?”
“You say that as if I can’t look after myself.”
“I know you can. You did just nearly break my arm, so I’m not worried,” you both laughed, and he smiled wider upon seeing that you’ve livened up a little bit. That was all he wanted to see – to see you smile. “But I mean it. I’ll protect you – take care of you. You can abandon your old life and just live with me.”
“But I’m a regular, boring human. You’re about to be head of the Kamo Clan – what could I possibly offer?”
“Everything and nothing, but know that I’m not asking or expecting anything from you,” his thumbs were gentle as he cupped your cheek, “Just stay here. With me. We’ll work it out.”
You fell silent, unable to process the gravity of his words. The more you thought about it, the more it enticed you. No more killing, no more crying yourself to sleep or trying to hold back a scream as you washed the blood off your body, no more images of the people you’ve killed haunting you everywhere you went. Instead, you could live a happy life with Noritoshi. He was powerful and influential – he could easily give you a life.
But it wouldn’t be a life if you failed your mission.
You knew that much – no one escaped from the higher-ups and no one got out unless they were killed, either during their mission or by defecting. Not even Noritoshi could protect you from that, but he gazed up at you so hopefully, so lovingly that you wanted to bask in this glow and illusion of happiness a little longer.
So you smiled, rubbing your nose against his that had you both giggling like lovesick teens. “You’re so cheesy it’s disgusting, Kamo. I really regret not killing you now.”
“You wound me,” he placed a hand over his chest before pinching his cheeks, “But I suppose it’s only fair – you quite kill me with your cuteness too.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
For now, while you could still have him the way you wanted him, while he was still safe, you allowed yourself to drown in pleasure. Limbs tangled with one another and names breathily spoken while he marked you as his own, his seed painting your womb that you eventually lost count of.
This was love – the illusion of it, at least.
You stared at Noritoshi as he slept soundly beside you, his hair splattered everywhere. He was too exhausted to notice you slowly slipping off the bed, wiping the mixture of both your cum away with a towel before tugging your clothes back on. Glancing one last time at his still sleeping form, you lifted up a tile just under his study, pulling out the heavy and deadly weapons you’d planted long ago just in case.
Your heart dropped in your chest when the door suddenly opened. No creaking sound indicated that it did, but the slight gush of wind entering the room made the hairs on your arm prickle up.
On instinct, you wrapped a hand around your special gun and aimed it at the person smirking down at you. His eyes travelled from Noritoshi safely tucked under the blankets to your defensive pose just before him, the safety of the gun flipped open. This time, your hands no longer shook, and your eyes were hard and determined as you matched the dark look on his face.
“Step away, kid. You don’t want things to get messy.”
“I won’t let you hurt him, Toji,” Toji was surprised when you suddenly dropped your gun on the bed, palms raised beside your head in surrender. “I, Y/N, member of the Dark Shadows organization therefore surrender my title and submits to the punishment I must receive. As a last wish from a lifelong loyal member of your organization, I humbly ask that you respect my wish to keep Noritoshi Kamo safe from your missions. Forever.”
You could never live a happy life with Noritoshi, but there was still a way you could keep him safe; one that came with the price of your death.
The Dark Shadows was a shady organization with nameless and faceless leaders, the members like you and Toji blindly following orders from a “messenger.” You were born into this organization with a random name given to you as an assassin title. You always hated it, but you also didn’t know what life without being an assassin was like, so you followed them until the end. It just never occurred to you that you would use your last wish this way, for everyone always had a dying wish that the organization had to follow.
Toji’s eyes darkened; clearly, he believed you were doing a mistake. But the more you thought of Noritoshi’s smile, his laughter, his future – it was all worth it.
“I, Fushiguro Toji, a witness of your death, hereby respect your last wish.”
The sound of desperate crying – the first time you’ve cried ever since you were born – stirred Noritoshi awake from his slumber, but before he could catch your falling body, a gunshot had already fired in the air.
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tainted-wine · 4 years
Text
The Spring Bird Survival Guide
Hawks x Reader (NSFW)
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(So many of you have asked for a part two of my rutting Hawks fic. I gave in! I have no idea how this holds up compared to the first, but I hope you enjoy!)
Read Part 1 if you haven’t! This takes place directly after those events!
Words: 10k (WHOOPS)
Warnings: None, except for an absurd amount of scene transitions that hopefully don’t get too confusing.
-----------------------------------------------
Tuesday
The chorus of songbirds can be heard right outside of Hawks’s window, their small shapes dashing past and making the peeking sunlight flicker across the bedroom. It sounds like it’s gonna be a beautiful day. He’d be elated, if he wasn’t feeling so ill already.
The fever and itch were coming back, like a hot rash that he couldn’t scratch because it was inside of him. He was really hoping to never feel such a hellish sensation ever again.
He slowly peeled the thick sheets off, making sure not to disturb his bedmate as he sat up. There’s no way the quirk’s effects were returning, is there? Last night, the feeling had only gotten weaker with every passing hour. Now it has returned, not in full force, but once again difficult to ignore. He peered over his shoulder to check on his guest.
You were still sound asleep, worn body supported by pillows all over as if you were in danger of falling apart. While Hawks was healing that night, your aches had only gotten worse. He at least managed to convince you that you were in no condition to drive back home and the safer choice was to stay at his place. You were still wearing the clothes he gave you, while he himself donned only a cozy pair of pants. Such a shame that you didn’t take kindly to his request to sleep nude together. Seriously, what was even the issue? He’s already seen every inch of your body, and in every angle possible.
Every hot, sweaty, mouthwatering angle possible.
The internal fire suddenly rushed to his groin, making him slap a hand over his mouth to muffle a groan. He shouldn’t be around you in this state; might as well get up early and prepare for work.
The moment he was on his feet and stretching, a buzz was heard on the nightstand. Your phone vibrated against the smooth wood as it lit up and revealed the caller’s name.
Ah, the good ol’ deputy.
What that nagging old man wanted was between him and you. It wasn’t Hawks’s right to force himself between whatever matters the two of you had to discuss.
Those facts aren’t going to stop his nosy ass, however.
The phone was snatched from the stand without a second thought, the hero walking out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible before answering. “Mornin’, sir,” Hawks greeted. You were the only ‘superior’ he could toy with; any unruly behavior around the actual important people came with a high risk of punishment. Taking his frustrations out on you has been a blast, but after the bind you freed him from yesterday…
“Hawks? May I ask what you’re doing with your handler’s phone?” The deputy questioned.
‘I completely wrecked her last night. The poor lady didn’t survive.’ He considered the joke for a second, but decided that the stuffy bastard wouldn’t appreciate it. “She’s still snoozing. Yesterday was pretty rough on her. I think she deserves a little slack.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” he said sternly, like he was offended that Hawks dared to make a suggestion. Hell, he probably was. “Well, since you’re here, I suppose I can ask you directly. How are you feeling? Has the quirk worn off?”
His wings flapped and fanned himself. “Oh, so much better, sir! You guys have the best solutions to everything, don’t you? Never doubted you for a second.” Truthfully, if his moral compass was more stable, he’d say that offering an unsuspecting woman to him like some maiden sacrifice was just a little twisted. He can’t help but wonder if he would have refused if he was thinking straight at the time.
“Very good. So you are not feeling any lingering effects? Do your usual rutting symptoms feel stronger at all?”
“Eh…” Hawks hesitated. Should he bother trying to hide it? If there’s anything he’s learned from his mentally taxing undercover work, it’s that half-truths are often the best answer. “Feels like it’s still floating around in me, but nothing to worry about. It won’t be getting in the way of my work.”
“That’s great to hear. We don’t want you hurting your image with any more of your brutish displays in public. Please keep those special traits to yourself.”
That made his lip twitch. It really shouldn’t bother him. The Commission has always expressed their distaste for his more animalistic habits, but fuck, would it kill them to at least show some pity when it’s his very own instincts that are causing his suffering? “You got it, sir.” His calm response didn’t betray his irritation.
“And if you do start having issues, then I recommend that you turn to your handler again. In fact, I was calling to inform her that we have found a more competent individual to replace her.”
Oh. That’s…ouch.
“Really? I kinda like her,” Hawks admitted. It’s pretty awkward to be discussing your possible termination on your phone during a call that was meant for you.
The deputy gave a dry laugh. “Of course you do. She has absolute zero control over you. I was hoping you were mature and disciplined enough to not take advantage of her inexperience, but I suppose I was expecting too much of you.”
Yeah, he kinda was, honestly. No argument there. “So sorry, sir. I won’t let it happen again.” Maybe.
“You better make sure of it. As I was saying, we’ll keep her around in case you are in need of more relief. Once your hormones have stabilized, I will give her the news and you will be rid of her.”
Hawks actually snorted from just how fucked up that plan was.
The cruel man ignored the sound and went on. “Can I trust you to stay quiet about this? I’d rather not have to deal with any constant badgering for however long this goes on.”
‘Totally! There’s no need for her to know that she’s only being kept around to be my fucktoy and then get fired immediately afterwards.’ Man, what an organization that he works for. Too bad they have him whipped and incapable of defying them. “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.”
“Good. Well, this call didn’t go as planned, but it was satisfying enough. I’m expecting you to remain in top condition during your duties. Do not disappoint us.” He hung up without waiting for Hawks’s response.
The winged man didn’t even notice the perspiration quickly coating his body until the phone nearly slipped out of his slick hands. As he returned to his room and placed your device back where it was, he couldn’t help but watch your sleeping form.
You were always cute, he’s not gonna lie about that. Finding new ways to embarrass you on the job became a new type of thrill for him. Your blushful glares never got old.
But he never thought that he’d see you like this, or the state that you were in yesterday. His mind was barely there as he was shrouded in that prankster of a villain’s quirk, but he could still feel you all over his extra sensitive feathers. He was practically drowning in you at the time.
The smell of your arousal. The taste of the glaze on your pussy. The sweet songs of pleasure. The look of overwhelming bliss on your face.
Your soft skin, and your hot wet opening that he wanted to invade over and over again…
“Keigo?”
He doesn’t know when you woke up, or when the hell he crawled into the bed with his face so close to yours that he could feel your breath. “Uh…”
“Are you alright? You’re looking feverish again. And…” You looked down in concern, and Hawks followed your gaze to see the full erection that totally snuck up on him.
“Whoa! Sorry about that! Little guy doesn’t know when to quit.” Hawks scooted away, trying and failing to hide the tent in his pants.
You attempted to sit up, only to wince and settle back down. “Dammit, I can’t believe how much I’m hurting from yesterday. This is embarrassing.” You groaned and snuggled up to the many pillows.
He couldn’t resist planting a kiss on your forehead, ignoring how the brief contact made his hardness twitch. “Sorry, angel. Really wish I wasn’t such an animal back there. Just stay still; I’ll get you some fresh water for your painkillers.”
You look like you wanted to say something, but decided on closing your eyes and trying to relax instead. “Thanks.”
He was already rushing out of the room, heading into the kitchen to fill the empty glass while considering dowsing himself in the cold tap water.
Why, why the fuck was it coming back? Just looking at you was making his vision foggy again. It can’t be his rut; it never made him this excited before. He didn’t have the courage to return to the bed, alternatively placing the cup onto a hardened feather and floating it back to you. He stayed where he was, leaning against the sink and wiping at his face. The heat remained at a manageable level as long as he kept his distance from you, but he wanted to stay close. He had to stay close and protect the woman he was now mated to.
Wait, what?
“Keigo?” He heard you call out and was pulled from his confusing thoughts. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Hawks gave a laugh that didn’t sound all that convincing to his own ears. “Bad news, babe. I think I’m still a horny bird,” he confessed.
There was a pause. Maybe you had taken a sip. “I don’t know if they told you, but when the deputy explained your…situation, he said that the symptoms of your rut will probably be amplified until it’s over.”
Ah, the old man did mention that over the phone. He only had about a week of his yearly phase left, but if this all means intensified aggression and arousal, not to mention the attachment to the lady he just banged for several hours…
This was going to be a very difficult week.
“Babe?” He said just loud enough for you to hear.
“Yes?”
“…I really fucked up by not taking my meds, didn’t I?”
He didn’t exactly hear your sigh, but it was still felt through his wings. “I’m afraid you did.”
Yeah, this was all his fault. This bullshit would only be half as painful if he was still taking his stupid hormone medication like he has been for years. Not only do these unrestrained imbalances feel foreign to his body, but Libido’s quirk practically put them on steroids.
The medicine’s side effects don’t sound all that bad anymore.
—————
Hawks had already eaten a slice of leftover pizza by the time you finally mustered up the strength to get up. The feel of your entire lower body cramping made you whimper and stumble.
He was already scrambling back in to catch you and hold you up, his high body temperature startling you. “Thank you,” you said wearily.
He froze for a second before jumping back, the sudden loss of support almost making you fall anyway. He wordlessly strutted over to his wardrobe, withdrawing a fresh pair of underwear. 
You looked away when the pants were pulled down and his hardness sprang free. He’s not just going to ignore that, is he?
“Keigo, do you need to…do this…again?” You asked, tuning out the throb of your muscles.
He chuckled as he began to dress himself . “You are not up for more sex, baby. Don’t even act like it when you can barely stand.”
You huffed. “You’re getting really hot again and you shouldn’t go out feeling like th—”
“Nope.” His boner is covered again, somewhat. He stares at the obvious protrusion before shrugging and retrieving his hero outfit.
Even with your aches, you had the grit to push on. “As long as you go slow, I can probably handle it.”
“Mmmm, can’t promise that,” he murmured while momentarily detaching his wings in order to squeeze into his tight black shirt. “The second I’m inside you, I might lose control and shatter your pelvis.”
That’s horrifying, but… “I trust you.”
“I don’t trust me.”
“Keigo…”
“And don’t get too attached to that name, dove. Can’t have it slipping out in public.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not stupid.”
“Could’ve fooled me, since you’ve offered me your tender pussy twice already. Do you want me to pound you into mush?”
“Language, Hawks!” You strictly reminded him, undeterred by your wobbly legs as you tried to remind him who was in charge.
Hawks shot you a look, his face crinkled into furrowed eyebrows and a crooked grin, a look that screamed ‘Seriously?’
“Listen, ma’am, wood happens. I’ve dealt with it plenty of times like any other guy, so I’m telling you that I don’t need to bang to get rid of this.” He pulled up his tan loose pants, the bulge not as obvious, but still visible. “But if you really insist on ordering me to fuck you silly, be my guest.”
You weren’t exactly going to do that, it’s just that Hawks was acting so unfazed by his strong arousal, but his body was very clearly telling a different story. His breathing was heavier than necessary, and every time after he made eye contact with you, it’s like he had to spend a minute to compose himself. However, if he’s confident that he can endure…
“Fine,” you sighed, watching him suit up with more interest than you cared to admit. You hobbled on out and into the kitchen.
“Need help, granny?” You heard him offer. “I can fly you to your place if your legs still aren’t working.”
“I’m fine,” you grumbled in annoyance at both him and your uncooperative limbs. The fridge was yanked open and you frowned at its contents. The pizza and chicken wings were the only real food he had, the rest being sugary snacks or microwave meals. Looks like ‘keeping a healthy diet’ will have to be added to your Hawks Maintenance list.
The flaps of wings were heard behind you as Hawks headed for the door, fully geared up and ready for hero work. “Welp, you’re a big girl that can handle yourself. Drive safely, babe. Can’t wait to hear what you have to nag me about at the office.”
“Hmph,” you gave a smirk of your own when you turned away from the humming microwave. “Probably about the next mistake you make for all of the internet to see.”
He waved dismissively and opened the door, the morning sun illuminating him with an enchanting glow. “Come on, have some faith in me. I’ll be careful.”
Crimson wings spread as he steps outside, but the door closes before you can watch him take off.
—————
Buzzfood.com
HAWKS SPORTS STIFFY ON THE JOB
Written by Yuki Burushito
Now, I know that I’ve been posting enough Hawks-related articles to last a year, but can you blame me with all the weird behavior he’s been exhibiting this month? You probably think that I have a boner for the guy, but let me tell you this: one of us has a boner, and it isn’t me.
Everyone’s favorite hawk was hiding a woodpecker in his pants today. The best part is that it apparently lasted hours, given that it was mentioned in several incidents throughout the day, but the clearest example was when he subdued a mugger at noon, which was filmed by a bystander and is already making the rounds across the web.
Yet another extreme apprehension from Hawks—though it doesn’t top the beating he gave to that frisky peacock—I sure didn’t expect the fast-working hero to swoop down on a fleeing thief and slam him into the ground. I’m certain that a few feathers would have done the job just fine. When the pinned mugger felt Hawks Jr. poking at his back, he lifted his busted face off the ground and screamed, “Is this shit turning you on?!”
While everyone is currently having a field day with that meme-able clip, the answer is most likely no. Hawks was hard before the mugging occurred. Since I’ll probably be writing about him again by...I don’t know, tomorrow, I’ll cut to the chase. You have probably heard the theories that Hawks is experiencing some sort of rut. 
Well, it’s time for me to come out and say that I fully support those theories. “But Mr. Burushito!” I hear you say. “If this is something as regular as a rut, how come he’s never acted this wild before?” My answer to that is: I have no idea. He’s still a rather young man; maybe whatever sexual cycles his body possesses have only started appearing recently.
Honestly, you can never be sure with mutant types. Their bodies never make any damn sense.
“I take offense to that last sentence.”
You didn’t react to Hawks’s comment as you both read the article on your phones. After seeing multiple images of ‘Hard Hawks’, as he’s been nicknamed, taken by several random civilians and shared on their social media accounts, you knew it was only a matter of time before these petty news sites decided to take a bite out of the fresh meat.
Maybe this was your fault for trusting the hormonal bird that was currently seated in front of you while you stood across his desk. The only reason you aren’t scolding him right now is because he already looks so damn miserable. He had removed his protective headphones and visor right after finishing his patrols. A desk fan was turned to its highest setting, blowing directly into the hero’s sweaty face as he tried his hardest to focus on the small screen in his hands. He hasn’t looked at you since you’ve entered the office, but distressed or not, there was a certain matter you had to discuss.
“The deputy apparently called me this morning,” you started, ready to see how he reacts.
You notice him tense for just a second as he continues to scroll through whatever it is he’s looking at.
“It says that I had taken the call, but I sure don’t remember that. What I do remember is that you were awake before me.” Your hands were on your hips, waiting for Hawks to answer to your unspoken accusation. “Well?”
He still stared down at his phone, but it didn’t seem like he was actually looking at anything, his mind elsewhere. “Yeah yeah, I talked to him,” he admitted groggily.
You’re more angered by the fact that the deputy never bothered to call you back, leaving you in the dark from whatever he and Hawks had discussed. “So, what did you two talk about? You know, during my call that was meant for me?”
Hawks finally laid his glassy eyes on you. The energy surrounding him was drastically different from this morning and it made you just a tad anxious. Your body truly didn’t feel up to it when you offered him more sex this morning, but you knew it would be better than him reverting to another delirious state. “In a nutshell, he wants us to keep fucking until I’m better.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “What? He didn’t think it was important to tell me about this?”
He leaned far back into his chair and smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his neck. “Guess not. But hey, you’re doing your job anyway, already serving yourself to me the minute you see a hard-on.”
You glared, considering storming out of the room and calling that asshole immediately. “I don’t appreciate him expecting me to be your personal whore.”
“I know, I know. He’s a real douche, isn’t he? How about we both blow off some steam?” He was already scooting out of his chair and making his way around the desk. “I’m just making one mistake after another. Shoulda just said yes to you this morning. Never pays to be a nice guy, does it?” His voice was sounding rougher with each word, like his throat was changing into a sandpaper tube as he stopped right in front of you.
You trembled, making the mistake of looking down and spotting the erection that was very much still present.
For the sake of your still-burning body, you might need some time to mentally prepare for this. “Alright…but before we leave, just let me—”
“Leave?” Two hands clasped onto your shoulders hard, holding you in place. The raptorial eyes held yours captive, stirring up a heat within you despite your unease. “We’re doing this right here, right now.”
“Wha-I-but-” Your stutters were ignored as he turned you to the desk and bent you over, your back muscles screaming in protest. All of his weight was pressing into you, his deprived cock pushing against your ass.
“And everyone’s already left for tonight, so it’s just you and me.” He’s eagerly yanking your pants down then does the same for his own. 
His fingers wasted no time in groping your sex, the swipes against your folds triggering a steady flow of slick arousal. There should be no one else in the building at this time, but your paranoia still makes you clap a hand over your mouth as you gasp from his sinful touches.
“Mmm, already getting wet for me?” He cooed behind you, his breath feeling like heat emanating from an open flame. “My brave little hen, willing to take as many poundings as she can.”
That’s a pet name you haven’t heard before. Teeth scrape across the space between your neck and shoulder while the head of his cock lubricates itself along your fleshy petals. When he pierces you with a strong jab of his hips, the light nips on your skin become a full-on bite, muffling his own cry. For you, however, the sharp sensation of being filled so suddenly combined with the pain of his teeth pinching into the crook of your neck had you wailing through your hand.
He was already setting a quick pace, giving your bitten area a few apologetic licks before leaning back to properly grip your hips and plow you. Your entire body was rocked forward with each impact, the harsh stroking of your inner walls bringing forth a raw pleasure that you admittedly missed.
But that wasn’t enough to ignore the resurging aches all over you. Your sensitive ass cheeks have become very familiar with slapping against his abdomen, every pleasurable collision also shooting pain up your lower back, and his probing dick was showing no mercy to your delicate insides.
“Haw—ah, Hawks! You need…you need to slow down!” You quavered.
The only response was a series of savage pants and growls as his violent movements continued, informing you that all of his sense and reasoning has disappeared once again. You remember the warning he gave you this morning, and fear that his quip about breaking your pelvis may have been more than just a joke.
You try to twist yourself just enough to see his face and speak to him more directly, but a hand on your back shoves you hard onto the desk, leaving your breasts and belly to scrape against the wooden surface. At least you weren’t fully stripped for this.
How the hell did this happen so fast? He was speaking just a minute ago! Do the after-effects of Libido’s quirk ruin Hawks’s mind that quickly the second his dick touches a pussy?
A moan was being ripped from your throat with every thrust as he upped the speed and force. He was showing no signs of stopping, and your thighs were beginning to cramp. The mixture of colorful pleasure and throbbing pains was making every inch of you shake. His fierce sounds were becoming distant—even with your legs on the verge of giving out and your back muscles crying, you welcomed the fog of bliss that was ready to carry you away.
Your poor legs finally crumpled like frail sticks, only for the frustrated animal behind you to lift your hips up until your entire body was on the desk, arms now dangling over the edge. There was only enough time to reposition your numbed limbs into a low doggy position before Hawks was climbing onto the desk himself, crouching over you and wasting no time in continuing his pummeling.
“Haw…ah…nngh…” Your feeble attempt to speak was quickly squandered. The new angle allowed him to easily strike your more sensitive spots, making your moans even louder. The desk jolted with each powerful jerk of his hips, the feral hero’s wings extending and flapping in sync with his thrusts, papers flying off the desk from the gusts of wind. Through all of the soreness and delightful trembles, you wondered what the current scene looked like to a spectator—the sight of this delirious bird beast, sounding a loud lustful tune of primal urges and carnal desires as he hysterically claimed you.
Your eyes roll back as the hot ripples in your core grow into pulsating waves, Hawks’s unwavering strokes prolonging the intoxicating climax as you quiver under him. You thought you heard a sound from the staggering desk—a snap—but your mind was too far gone at the moment to care.
Hawks tried desperately to keep pumping through your tightening walls, but your delicious grasp on him was draining his stamina. You were gripping the edge of his workspace for dear life, the orgasmic throbs still wracking your body as he rabbit fucked you, ready to fill your womb with the load that has been prepared since morning…
It all happened in slow motion...the sound of wood and metal breaking, the weightless feeling of falling...you had registered it all just a second too late. Your abused body dropped with the collapsing desk, Hawks’s weight crashing down on top of you while papers slowly floated toward the floor. Both of you laid there in agony, the chair somehow falling over and onto Hawks for added insult. A few groaned words revealed that the winged man was fully aware again.
“Augh, fuck…my balls.”
—————
Wednesday
“Here’s all of the completed paperwork, Hawks sir!”
Hawks beamed at the intern entering his office with a stack of papers. “Ah, thanks, Springer! You’re a real lifesaver, ya know that?”
The aspiring ‘Bouncing Hero’ hopped excitedly on his peculiar coiled legs as he handed over the documents. “Thank you, sir! I’m always here whenever I am needed.” He bowed respectfully. “Although, I just…forgive me for feeling the need to remind you, but please do not forget that I took this internship to do hero work, not to sort and fill papers.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” Hawks assured him, taking the cursed heap of papers. You were usually the one that he shoves all of his office-related tasks on, but whenever you were preoccupied, he would pass the burden onto a trainee that was too starry-eyed to acknowledge that they were being used. Yes, he feels a little bad, but his hatred of reading endless forms was too strong for him to care much. “I gotta test your patience and comprehension first, then I’ll be taking you out into the field with me. You’re doing great!” He bullshitted with a smile.
Springer perked up at the words. “Of course! I’ll keep doing my best!” His eyes kept drifting to the large empty space in the room. “Sir, what happened to your desk?”
Hawks looked over at the open spot, feigning surprise as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh, right. I banged my handler on it ’til it broke.”
“…”
“…”
The teen searched the man’s eyes for several long seconds, looking for something, before bursting into boisterous laughter. Hawks joined in with his own chuckles.
“You’re very funny, sir! But I don’t think she would appreciate such a joke. Whatever happened, I hope you get a replacement soon!” He bowed again before walking—well, more like skipping out of the room.
Hawks’s smile didn’t fade when he was alone again, wondering where to place the heavy stack in his hands.
Sometimes the truth makes for the best lie.
—————
Pleasing Hawks when he was a drooling horndog was a challenging test of endurance, but at least it was simple and straightforward. All you gotta do is let him mount you and brace yourself.
But that option was currently out of the question. Your entire body was just too damn stiff and sore, every single movement feeling like the impaired motions of an unoiled tinman. Nevertheless, you still needed to get rid of Hawks’s brand new boner.
So here you were, back at his bed and kneeling on the floor, shyly licking at the swollen rod in your hands. You weren’t the most experienced at this, paying close attention to his noises and responses that came with every action from your fingers and tongue. Hawks was watching your performance with an agitated glare, which was just a tad troubling and added extra pressure.
You licked the prominent vein on the underside of his dick, tracing it up to his bulging head before taking him into the hot cavern of your mouth. He groaned through painfully clenched teeth; he seemed to be enjoying it, yet it looked like his frustration was only growing.
Not yet deterred, you began to suck at him, head bobbing up and down while your hand jerked the extra inches that you couldn’t take in. Your other hand gently held and caressed his enlarged sack, heavy and full of cum that refused to be freed into your mouth. His cock was twitching wildly in your throat, so he has to be close, right? Ignoring the burning in your back and….everything else, honestly, you placed all of your focus on engulfing as much of him as you could, tongue swirling all around him until he inevitably gives in.
But a hand grabs your head and yanks you off of him with a wet surprised gasp.
“Stop…stop…it’s just getting worse.” He choked in a broken voice, staring down at the impossibly hard and red erection.
You wiped off the saliva that had run down your chin. “Why won’t you cum?”
His thighs trembled from all of the unreleased tension; you rubbed them to hopefully calm him just a bit. “Fuck, I…it’s like I can’t do it unless I’m…dammit!” The sudden beat of his angry wings spooked you.
You drew a deep breath. You really weren’t up for this, but leaving him in this state would be too cruel. Not to mention it was putting him in a very sour mood. Hoisting yourself onto the bed (with a few pained whimpers), you faced away from him and lowered your upper body to rest your arms, your ass raised and ready for him.
“You know, Keigo,” you started casually, as if you weren’t laid out in such a compromising position. “When I took this job, I imagined the countless situations I could possibly end up in. I was afraid I’d get caught in the middle of some villainous scheme, like a hostage situation. My silly fangirl side imagined going on dates with my favorite hero. The list of scenarios went on and on.”
The man behind you didn’t say anything, so you kept going. “And yet, ‘presenting myself to Hawks so that he can hump me senseless’ was not on that never-ending list.
He gave an awkward laugh, still sounding as if his throat was constricted. “You don’t have to, babe. I can…I dunno…”
“Just fuck me already.”
Hawks said no more and took hold of your rear. “I’ll try to take it slow. I’ll try.”
He tried and failed. Once he penetrated you, he completely lost himself again. By the time he was satisfied, every fiber of your being was dimmed and immobilized. He helped you get tucked into bed that night.
—————
Thursday
“Please, sir. I’m quite concerned for my health. This would be easier if he was away from the excitement of his work.”
After mulling it over, you had decided to be the one to reach out to the deputy, since he didn’t seem interested in calling you again anytime soon. Your original plan was to brave through the fury of Hawks’s dick until this damn rut ended, just like the deputy intended without your say in the matter.
But when you had to visit the doctor for your pains today, and you walked out with a fucking crutch under your arm, you realized this was all a bit much.
At the moment, you were trying to negotiate for letting Hawks take at least a day or two away from work. The deputy didn’t seem convinced. “Hawks once managed to keep working for an entire day with a broken wing and no visits to the hospital, and you mean to tell me that he should rest just because he has the hormonal urges of a teenager?” His snobbish ass questioned.
“This is—!” You inhaled sharply through your nose, catching yourself and lowering your voice. “This is much stronger than that, sir. Without getting into detail, I have withstood some back-breaking nights.” You consider telling him about your recent hospital visit, but the remaining shreds of your pride wouldn’t allow you to share that. Even you didn’t want to believe that Hawks has literally fucked you until you couldn’t walk.
You heard him snort in your ear. Ugh. “Doesn’t sound like anything a steady dose of painkillers can’t fix,” he dismissed.
You gave up making him understand your suffering and tried something else. “Sir, Hawks has faithfully served the Commission since he was a child. He has become one of the most accomplished heroes this generation has ever seen. His skills and dedication have done nothing but help the Commission become a more positive icon all over Japan. Don’t you think such a loyal and hard-working hero deserves at least one day off?”
“No.”
Well, shit. “…Alright, um, thank you for taking the time to hear me. I’ll get back to my duties.”
“Yes, that would be great,” he said listlessly before hanging up.
What an asshole.
—————
“What happened?”
Hawks’s words carry a dangerous tone when he sees you enter his office with the help of your walking aid. It makes you pause.
Going by the sharp yet troubled look in his eyes, you could tell that the tone wasn’t directed at you. ‘Did someone hurt you?’  That’s what he was really asking. His concern always warmed you. “Nothing, I just…” You hate reminding yourself that this even happened. “The pains were getting really bad.”
It takes a minute for those words to sink in, then his eyes widen in some sort of amazement. “Oh.” A flurry of feathers fly off of his wings and form a small floating cushion in front of you. “There, have a seat. Don’t want you hurting anymore than you already do.”
You eye the levitating seat before approaching and lowering yourself onto it. It was like a soft yet firm pillow, and you didn’t miss how the feathers seemed to all shiver, red barbs shaking rapidly as you adjusted your rump.
“Thank you,” you said while resting the crutch onto your lap. Once you were comfortable, you looked at the hero and the brand new furniture between the both of you. “I like your new desk.”
“Thanks. This one is pure steel, much more durable.” He winked.
You return it with a roll of your eyes. “Wonderful. Anyhow, I want to discuss a local hero event coming in two weeks. Your presence would do well to—” you noticed that he was snickering, lips pursed in a strained effort not to fully laugh. “Did I say something funny?”
He shook his head while short amused breaths still escaped him. “I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting and all, but…” He was cackling now, hunching over the desk as he struggled to explain. “I can’t believe I put you in crutches!”
Your face burned with both embarrassment and anger at how hilarious he found the situation. “Hawks…”
He coughed and noisily cleared his throat. “Sorry, I promise to keep it in my pants from now on.” A mischievous grin was plastered on his face. “I mean, I don’t wanna put you in a wheelchair next!”
With a wheeze and happily flailing wings, Hawks keeled over onto the desk with his face buried in his arms, the laughs muffled but still going strong. You just watch with a frown, listening to his mumbled joke about how ‘once you go hawk, you won’t be able to walk’.
What an asshole.
—————
Saturday
Hawks was definitely getting better. You could tell with each passing day, taking mental notes on how he was having an easier time holding your gaze, or how he was able to stay close to you without growing in his pants. Thank god, because your body was still recovering. Another round of wild sex will only cripple you further.
That’s why the incident currently being reviewed on television was filling you with dread. You sat in the main room of Hawks’s house, the house that you practically lived in for nearly a week, watching coverage of the recent attack at the Fukuoka City Mall. The footage of various species of birds flying into the shopping center and swarming the unsuspecting civilians was almost comical, the colorful animals squawking loudly as they snatched every shiny valuable in sight.
A man with the head of a macaw, apparently going by the villain name of Parakill, stood at the center of the chaos, chirping excitedly as his fowl goons showered him in jewels and baubles. His robbery was cut short when small red blurs whizzed into the scene, pinning the criminal onto the floor and chasing around the army of birds until they surrendered their stolen goods. You weren’t prepared for the deafening chorus of tweets and shrieks when the winged hero stepped into the camera’s line of sight.
The restrained villain was cawing and screeching angrily, most likely commanding his birds. You couldn’t see Hawks’s face clearly due to the distance and quality, but you could still make out the intimidating glare as his wings slowly spread out into their full span, each individual feather looking slightly sharpened. Any bird that made a move was quickly poked with a red quill, each and every one of them eventually staying in place while uttering quiet submissive peeps. Parakill’s look of rage slowly morphed into one of fear. Once the danger was surely dealt with, Hawks called for any lingering citizens to leave the area while he retrieved the villain.
You were still in awe as the news switched to another story. Some sort of dominance was asserted there. You weren’t sure how, but it definitely happened. The worrying part was that tapping into his primal instincts like that has probably riled him up. Christ, he’s probably rushing over right now to fuck you into the mattress again.
Only about thirty minutes had passed when you hear the twist of the doorknob and the front door opening. You stand in anxious anticipation. How disheveled and hungry is he going to look? Is he going to jump you on sight?
But the Hawks that walks in is…composed, his face free of tension and layers of sweat as he spots you and offers a friendly smile. “Sup.”
You’re too stunned to give anything more than a “Hey” as he walks past you and heads for his room.
It’s a miracle. No sexual excitement after such a tense encounter with not only a villain, but another male bird mutant? Was he truly getting that much better? There wasn’t enough certainty to approach him while he was changing, so you stayed on the couch and stared at the large screen until he chose to come out on his own.
You were still channel surfing by the time he was strutting over in his loose and comfy clothes, plopping down onto the couch with a wing outstretched and tucking itself behind your back. You gulped—not sure what he had planned for you.
“Relax. You’re acting like I’m gonna eat you,” he teased, watching you flip through the TV’s guide.
“You’re not? I can’t be too sure after what happened today.” You turned to him, watching his keen golden eyes shift and meet yours. The gaze wasn’t glassy. It wasn’t predatory. “You really feel alright?”
“Haven’t felt this good in the past two weeks. It’s nice to be a civil human again.”
You relaxed a bit and shuffled in your seat, fully aware of how his wing was wrapped around your shoulder like an affectionate arm. “About the attack at the mall…” You began. “What exactly was happening there?”
“What, you mean what I did to the birds? Parakill was trying to sic them on me.” He straightened up with a grinning face that radiated pride. “So I rearranged the pecking order. His birds don’t answer to him anymore.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You didn’t. You can do that?”
“Sure can! It’s not that hard. I mean, don’t think that I have a bunch of attack birds at my command now.  Animal control took them in to be relocated, not to mention some of them were illegal exotics.”
“Ah, that’s…impressive.”
“Heh, remember this, babe,” he leaned in until his lips were grazing your ear, his lowered voice and hot breath making you shudder. “I’m always the top bird.”
You shake off his flirting and try to keep your composure. “Right, of course. I’m just really glad that you’re getting better.”
His wing pulled you in for a tight hug that made you squeak. “All thanks to my sweet hen of a handler. Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.” He heard your pained grunts and instantly released you. “Whoops, sorry.”
You rolled your stiff shoulders and sighed. “It’s fine. You’re not the only one who’s getting better. Just do me a favor and try to forget that I was ever this sore from sex.”
Hawks laughed softly as he took your hands in his. The gesture surprised you after experiencing days of rough and impatient touches. “Hey,” he was almost whispering, forcing you to lean in closer to hear him. “It’s been a wild week. My mind’s been all over the place and I’ve put you through a lot. And…” He looked away with his brows pinched in a pained expression, troubled over something you didn’t know about. Before you could ask, his face drew closer, until your foreheads were pressed together. “Mind if I do one more thing with you?”
You were completely lost. You didn’t understand the sudden tenderness, his somber mood, or why he was talking with some sort of finality to his words.
“Let me take you to bed.”
The fuck?
“Keigo,” you leaned away from him, paying no mind to how you already missed his warm closeness. “I said I was getting better, but I’m not that much better.”
He shook his head, bringing your hands closer to his chest. “No, not like that. Just…I wanna do this properly with you for once. Some nice, regular sex. Hell, doesn’t even have to be full-on sex, I just want to…feel you.”
Your eyebrows raised. “Feel me?” You repeated.
He nodded eagerly with a big-ass smile. The normally cheeky young man was acting so genuine right now.
It was hard to say no to that.
“Alright.”
Hawks said no more, pulling you up on your feet and taking you to the room you both have shared for several nights. He was quick in removing your clothes, peeling each article off smoothly before doing the same to his own. The mood felt so different from your other intimate meetups that you couldn’t help but feel modest all over again.
Calloused hands were gently pushing you down onto your back, and you watch as the handsome man above opens up his wings, his eyes closed as if entering a trance.
“Whenever we fucked, I never felt like I was really there,” he recalled out loud, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. “I could feel you, see you, hear you, but it’s like my body was moving on its own. I was in the backseat of my own head.”
With a deep inhale and exhale, he stared down at you with a look of desire, but not the savage kind. You’re not quite sure what it was…maybe the look of a lover.
Fingers traced your face, trailing down your cheek, brushing your lips, and skimming over your well-marked neck. “Now I finally get to feel you however I want.”
Your breath caught in your throat when his lips made contact with the flesh right over your pulse, planting a few light kisses before mouthing at your neck, the random swipe of a tongue making you gasp.
His open wings twitched in response at the small sound. He was trying to savor every single one of your reactions. That’s intense.
He was in no rush, mouth moving down slowly and stopping to observe the bruise near your shoulder. “Damn, I bit you hard. That’s…when we were in the office, right?” he asked.
You hummed and nodded. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t as painful as a fully grown man falling on top of me after ramming me through a desk.”
Hawks chuckled at the memory while rolling your breast around in his hands. “Man, that really crushed my nuts. I swear my voice was a pitch higher for the rest of the night.” He laughed into your tits, licking at the squishy mounds as he took in each of your shivers and moans.
“Maybe, but that was probably just from you crying about how you could no longer give me chicks.” Yeah, that was a weird time.
“Shh, that didn’t happen,” he denied.
“Yes, it did. I had to hold you as you sobbed.”
“Lies.”
“You were worse than I’ve ever been on my perio—ah!” A bite on your nipple silenced you.
Hawks shot you a playful glare, daring you to say more. When your mouth stayed shut, he gave a satisfied purr and sucked at the same perky bud, soothing the sting before moving on to the other.
You felt relaxed; this was all so much calmer than what you have gotten used to. While you won’t deny that his feral side was as pleasurable as it was tiring, at least you can finally take the time to breathe and soak up what he’s doing. Judging from his vibrating feathers, he probably felt the same.
He licked down your stomach while his hands ran down your sides until they reached the purple finger-shaped blemishes on your hips. He winced at the sight. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch.”
He nurtured the marks with his mouth, careful not to apply too much pressure and cause any pain.
“You don’t have to be so delicate,” you hesitantly tell him. “The day you were under the quirk’s influence, you uh, you were doing the same to the bruises on my back…felt kind of good.”
His lips curved into a devilish smile. “Oh, so you like a little pain? My innocent little hen?”
“Shut up,” you said with a blush. “It’s your fault that I’ve felt everything but innocent lately.”
“True, true. I didn’t mean to open you up to the wonderful world of rough play.” His mouth closes around a bruise and sucks hard, shooting a sharp pleasurable burn that traveled straight down to your core. “Ooooh, I felt that.”
You can only whimper as he laps at the sensitive area, but part of you wants him to bring that scary jolt of pain again.
“I wanna know,” he says between licks. “Just how much did you enjoy me letting loose on you? How many times did we do it the first day?”
A few more kisses are laid on your hips before he continues his descent. Your breath quickens in nervous excitement when he nestles his head between your legs, face dangerously close to your hot sex.
“Come on, hen. At least give me a guess.” He turns to your thighs and showers them with timid pecks.
The sheets beneath you crinkle under your death grip. “Don’t know…lost count after the seventh time,” you admit through gritted teeth.
“Aww, what a shame,” his mouth wanders further inside your thigh. “Do you know how many times you came?”
“I don’t know. A lot.”
He bit into you and enjoyed the resulting yelp. “Mmmm, definitely a lot. Enough to knock you out. So sad that neither of us remember just how thoroughly I wrecked you.”
His naughty lips are just an inch away from your nether ones, your breath quickening in anticipation. Hawks looks up at you, most likely enjoying the view of your heaving chest. But he does well in reminding you how much of a bastard he is by switching to your other thigh, subjecting you to another round of kisses.
“Keigooo,” you whine pathetically, feeling your aches as your muscles tense from the teasing.
“Hold on, I’ve got more questions. What was your favorite position?”
“What?”
“Come on, you’ve got plenty to choose from,” he licks the sweat that was beginning to coat your skin.
Both your embarrassment and his tongue were making it very difficult to answer. You stammer over your words while his mouth moves inward, but once again, he stops at your mound.
“You really can’t think of one?” He gives you a ridiculously sad face—large puppy eyes and a puckered bottom lip—it would have looked more innocent if he wasn’t so close to your most private area.
You realize that he wasn’t going to take any further action until you gave him an answer. “I…when I’m on my hands and knees…” You swallow despite the dryness of your throat. “…and you’re on top of me…”
“Ah,” he sighs, and you feel his thumbs part your outer lips like a damp pair of curtains. He stares down at the pussy that he has battered more times than either of you can count, and yet it drips for him even now. The feel of a single finger running down your wetness makes your entire body jerk. “You like it when I mount you like a dog?”
“Yes,” you choke.
He blows on your quivering cunt. “What do you like about it so much?”
“I…you…I don’t…”
“Do you just love feeling like an animal too? Love it when a crazed horny guy humps you into the floor?” He finally indulges you with a long lick from your hole to your clit, and the hot muscle already has you moaning. “Is that it?”
“Ah…maybe…” You answer, and he rewards you with another lick. Listening to his questions was becoming a challenge.
“Hmm, would you love it if I fucked you until my bed gives out? You’re a pretty expensive girl to mess around with,” he jokes. He then dives in, sloppily making out with your folds that have been begging for more gentle attention for days.
Your head thrashes against the pillow. His licks and sucks were both pleasurable and soothing against your beaten pussy. You were finally freed from his powerful stare when he closed his eyes and fully concentrated on eating you out. He alternated between sucking loudly on your velvety folds and lapping at your opening, sometimes dipping his tongue inside so that he can feel your walls attempt to grab him.
The building pressure in your belly has become an old friend at this point, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t excited whenever it arrived and begged it to explode and bring you back to that lovely state of euphoria. Hawks’s mouth was moving more fervently as he drank in more of your juices, as if your nectar was intoxicating him. His deep moans rattled your insides while he smacked his wet lips against every inch of your womanhood, giving your swollen clit a smooch before sucking hard.
“Mm…oh god…Keigo, please…”
He growled with your bud still in his mouth, blinding you with the electrifying pleasure that was only enhanced by the sudden intrusion of two fingers in your throbbing cavern. The slow inner massage guided you to the top where stars burst in your vision, each orgasmic throb bringing forth a shameless moan. The stimulated wings fluttered from the overwhelming pleasure surrounding them, Hawks giving light licks and kisses until you were back down to earth.
“Fuck, that was good,” he said breathlessly, as if he was the one that just got sent to heaven. “You felt amazing, so nice and clear.” His wings finally folded behind his back as he straightened himself and wiped his glistening face.
You were ready to drift away into a happy slumber until you saw Hawks move to get off the bed and spotted the very familiar hardness that was bobbing with his movements. “Wait! You’re…” Your eyes dart from his face to his erection.
“Don’t worry about that; fapping works again!” he told you cheerfully before changing to a devious smirk. “What, did you wanna watch or something?”
“No,” you snapped a bit more loudly than intended. “I…want you inside of me.”
He froze.
“You sure?”
“Very.”
He crawled back between your legs—clearly trying not to look too eager—and was already aiming his cock at your opening. Your nod of approval was all he needed to push inside and damn, that was one hell of a face and moan he made.
You reflexively braced yourself for an immediate pounding, but the throbbing length just stayed there, twitching in response to every pulse from your surrounding walls. Hawks appeared absolutely fascinated by the sight of him sheathed inside of you before looking up to your face, eyes filled with a warm lust, not the unfocused kind that you have gotten used to.
He pulled out slowly and pushed back in at the same speed. “Ooooh, fuck, baby. So hot…so tight…” He murmured with a broken groan. The lazy thrusts allowed you to feel every inch of him stretch you, his veins rubbing against you for added texture and stimulation. Your hypersensitive pussy appreciated the easy pace, and even better, it was also working for the hero above you.
His hips gradually sped up overtime, but never into something rough and aggressive. It was more like a grind, his abs rippling with every deep push. His flushed face has gotten dangerously close to yours, allowing you to watch the pulsating pupils of his avian eyes.
The only time he ‘kissed’ you was on the first day, though a more appropriate description would be that he simply smashed his mouth against yours. Now, as you stared at his parted lips while hot breaths blew onto your face, you had a strong desire to finally give him a proper one.
Good thing Hawks was a damn mind reader, because he brought his lips down to yours right after you finished the thought. They were soft, softer than you expected from a guy that flew at high speeds all day. Then again, he was also a sex symbol that needed to take care of himself.
His mouth was clearly more skilled than yours, so you let him take the lead, lips molding perfectly against yours with playful licks. The added intimacy sped up his hips and raised his volume, his entire mouth engulfing yours as he moaned into you. Your tongue found his and engaged in a frantic dance. He’s tensing up; you give him some encouragement by wrapping your arms and legs around his sweaty form, giving the base of his wings a few rubs. Your mouths part to catch your breaths, a strand of saliva linking your tongues together
“Cum inside me, Keigo.”
“Oh fuck.” Your words have him pumping erratically into you, but you’ve dealt with worse. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, whimpering at your legs that keep him locked in place and urging him to release his creamy essence as deep inside you as possible.
His trembles are powerful, but even better were the cracked whines vibrating against your neck as he emptied himself into your womb. You never get tired of watching his wings lifelessly drop whenever he wears himself out. You cradle his spent body—it’s all so similar to the first time he took you, except this time he moves just a little to the side to relieve you of some of his weight. He doesn’t move you for another round, he just relaxes into your cuddles.
“Thanks,” he says softly, already close to dozing off.
You’re not sure what exactly he’s thanking you for, but it makes you smile anyway. “You’re welcome.”
A wing stretches over you as a blanket, the warm soft feathers doing well to pull you into dreamland as well. Hawks’s heavy breaths tell you that he was already out.
You close your eyes. It looks like you both managed to survive the worst rut of Hawks’s life. This sure as hell wasn’t what you signed up for, but looking back, it wasn’t that bad. Except for the crutch. The crutch never happened.
As sleep claimed you, you wondered what the future had in store for you and the winged hero.
—————
Monday
“I just got fired.”
Hawks flinched at the news, scratching at his back awkwardly. “Aww man, that’s…oof, what a shocker.”
For some reason, his surprise didn’t sound very real. But you were way too upset at the moment to question it further. “Well, I guess it’s more like a demotion. They’re still allowing me into a position I have more experience in. It’s probably back to desk work for me,” You sighed, pacing back and forth across the office in a desperate attempt to expel some of your anger. “But I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that he basically kept me around to be your fucking fleshlight, and then threw me away after you were satisfied!”
Hawks shrugged with an apologetic look. “It really sucks, babe. You can’t forget: the real studs are the Commission. No one fucks more people than them. A lot of us are a one-time use to those guys. I’m just lucky enough to have a longer expiration date than most. Or unlucky. I dunno.”
You didn’t either, honestly. Hawks deserved better. “They’re such assholes, yet here I am ready to keep working for them. I so badly want to say ‘fuck you’ and leave, but…” You trailed off.
Hawks finished your sentence with a smirk. “They pay too well?”
Your head lowers in shame. “Yeah.”
A wing pats you on the back as he laughs. “I’m not judging, angel. That’s probably what keeps most of the guys around.” He steps closer to you, gently taking your chin to tilt your head back up. “I’m gonna miss you though. Whoever they send to watch my ass next isn’t going to be half as fun as you.”
The comment warms you. You take his hand and pull it further up to your face, letting him cup your cheek. “Thanks, but I was pretty bad at the job. They would have kicked me down sooner or later.”
He came in closer. “True, you sucked. But you’re the first handler I got to know so well. Inside and outside.” His chuckle is hot against you before he locks his lips to yours. The kiss becomes more heated than expected—he’s tugging at your lip and thrusting his tongue in and out of your mouth in a way that makes your thighs press together. You tear yourself away from his face, breathless.
“Hawks…?”
His tongue slowly runs over his upper lip. Goddamn. “Sorry, little hen. I was just hoping you’d like a nice goodbye gift. I can give you more, if you want.”
You’re so pissed off at yourself for throbbing in response to his offer.
He pulls you back in and takes hold of the waistband of your pants. “How about it? Wanna get to know my new desk a little better?”
The sounds resonating from the office that morning scarred Springer.
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mrvelfan · 4 years
Text
Sunburn
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: basically fluff, some kissing
authors note: this is my first fic ever, so please be nice and enjoy:) (gif is not mine!!! all credits to the owner)
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY STORIES ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. Reposts are appreciated.
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It was such a great day at the beach. Hot mid summer day, spent in a bathing suit, finally relaxed from all the Avengers pressure. You had gotten ready kinda early in the morning, not wanting to waste any minute of your day off. You bumped into Natasha returning to her room after her workout and after chatting for a bit, letting her know of your plans, she decided to join you. It was an opportunity to spend time together, so you both decided to invite whoever else wanted to come along. It resulted in Steve, Sam and Bucky joining you, which actually led to a day full of fun.
You were now on your way back to the compound with Steve and Nat in the front of the car and you, squeezed between Bucky and Sam in the back seat. Everyone was tired after a whole day of swimming, sunbathing and playing games so there was a comfortable silence and you were about to fall asleep. Suddenly you felt Bucky moving and grunting on your left side.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to move?” you said moving to your right thinking that Bucky didn’t fit. After all he was a pretty big guy.
“No no, I’m fine, I’m okay” he said with a half smile, shifting in his seat. You looked at his posture remembering that from the moment you got into the car, he sat very still, without his back touching the back seat. You could tell there was something off, but he looked rather uncomfortable and you didn’t want to ask him infront of the others.
Bucky was shy and quiet around the others, even though he was living at the compound for quite some time now. His room was next to yours, so when he had nightmares his first days here, you were always there to ground and comfort him. Since then you became really close, and you were one of the very few people he let touch him. It was honestly a surprise to everyone the first time they ever saw you sitting really close and he didn’t move away. You didn’t mind that he was always near you or touching you, because you realized that it made him feel safe. You liked the physical contact and the time you spent together, and little by little, your crush to Bucky developed.
You just nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. His flesh arm was pressed on your side, his hand on his thigh, so you felt his muscles tensing with every slight movement. It hurt you to see that he was in some kind of discomfort or even pain from the grunts that left his lips every now and then, but you let it go, deciding to ask him once you were alone.
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After about 30 minutes you arrived and once the car stopped everyone sighed because you would finally go to sleep. You gathered your stuff and started walking to your rooms talking about your day.
"I had a great time. We should do this more often." Nat said to all of you, stopping outside her room.
"Me too, it was a great idea Y/N. Didn't know you actually had these." Sam teased you before entering his room too, laughing and leaving you speechless.
"Did he really-?" You turned your head in shock finding Steve and Bucky trying to hold in their laughs.
"Yeap he did... and i can already see the wheels in your head turning, coming up with a way to get him back tomorrow at training." Steve added and started walking again.
"Don't you worry about that." You said with an evil smile hearing them chuckle again.
Yours and Bucky's room was right next to each other so after saying 'goodnight' to Steve you were walking in silence.
"Are you really okay? You looked strange on the ride back home." You finally asked him, stopping on your tracks outside of your rooms. He didn't answer and he looked like he was deciding whether he should tell you the truth or not. But your concerned face made him feel bad for lying on the first place.
"I um... I got a... I got sunburnt on my back..." he said looking at you to see your reaction. The frown on your brows became even more visible as you walked closer to him. His eyes never left yours as you reached out with slow movements and lifted his shirt a little, revealing his skin. It was red and looked sore, making you realize that this was why he wouldn't sit back in the car.
"Oh my god Bucky! This looks really bad." You looked into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to think of a way to help ease the pain.
“Don’t worry doll, it will be healed by tomorrow.” he shrugged and turned his body to open the door of his room.
"Listen, I have a gel that will cool down your skin and reduce the redness." You said and opened the door of your room, leaving some space for him to enter. 
“You really don’t have too” he said looking back at you. 
“Yes, but i want too. At least let me help you feel more relaxed, even for a few hours.” He hesitated for a moment, but the awful feeling of his shirt touching him was irritating and he couldn't wait to get it off.
He walked in your room and stood at the end of your bed, leaving his bag on the floor near a wall. You quickly shut the door, throwing your stuff on the bed and going into the bathroom attached to your room. Once you found the aloe gel, you walked back out seeing Bucky still standing looking around.
"You can sit on the bed if you want." You offered and waited for his next move. He sat on your bed softly, very close to the edge like he didn't want to intrude into your personal space, even tho you had let him in the first place.
"Can you please take your shirt off?" You asked with a soft voice,not wanting to startle him, knowing how self conscious he was about his metal arm and scars.
He slowly nodded, without looking at you, winching when he moved his arms to remove it, because of the pain. Once it was off, he put his hands on his lap playing with his shirt, too afraid to look up to you and see your reaction to his scarred shoulder. 
He was nervous. You could tell by his body language. You moved closer, sitting behind him so you faced his back. It was very red, especially on his shoulders and shoulder blades. You opened the cap of the tube and squirted some gel on your palm and fingers, before closing it and tossing it next to you.
“I’m going to touch you now okay?” you figured that it would be better for him if you told him exactly what you were going to do.
“Okay” he wispered, on the verge of tears, afraid that when you touched him you would feel disgusted by him.
You lifted your hands after barely hearing his response, and warned him that it would be cold. He nodded and you slowly pressed your palms on his back. You heard him hiss and shiver, but you didn’t move. He would feel much better after this.You spread the aloe all over his back massaging his skin, focusing on his shoulders were it was more sore. 
How could this have happened? He didn’t even take his shirt off nor he is burnt on his face.
You asked yourself after rembering that he wasn’t shirtless at the beach. You were totally fine with it, just like everyone else. Not one of you would pressure him into doing something he didn’t feel comfortable doing.
“Hey Bucky...do you mind me asking how you got burned, since your face is fine and... you didn’t take your shirt off?” you asked him and grabbed the gel bottle again to add more to your hands. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and hold back his tears so you wouldn’t suspect anything.
“No um...I actually took it off to get into the sea, but you were all sleeping... so that’s probably why you...didn’t see me” he said and shifted akwardly on your bed. The truth was that he actually waited until everyone was asleep, so he could take off his shirt for literally ten minutes, to get into the water.
“And i put sunscreen on my face so...yeah” he added and waited for your response.
“Why didn’t you wake me to help you?” You said concerned and slightly suspicious because you had an idea of why he didn’t.
“Like i said, you were sleeping and i didn’t want to bother you” he sat up after you told him you were done and looked back at you.
“Listen, i dont want to pressure you, but you know you can tell me everything right?” you crossed you legs looking at him and waited for his responce.He knew that you knew. After all you knew him really well to notice when hes lying.
He closed his eyes sighing and sat next to you on the bed. “The truth is...that...” he trailed off and you put your hand on his ,that was resting on his thigh, and squeezed it, as a sign to continue.
“...I just didn’t want anyone, and especially you to see me shirtless... to see my scars and remember that i am a monster.” He said and wiped a few tears that escaped his eyes.
You weren’t entirely shocked to hear that. Only because deep down you knew that this was his biggest insecurity and he wouldn’t open up to anyone about it easily, even if he refused it. 
“Oh Bucky...” you hugged him tightly, your hands caressing the back of his head. He wrapped his armaround your waist, hugging you back even more tightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck and you felt some tears wetting your shirt. After a few moments you pulled back, wiping his tears stained cheeks, with you thumbs.
“I could never see you as a monster Buck. You are far from that. What you did all those years was not you...you are the kindest, most giving man I know who always puts himself first to protect others. I’m not disgusted by your scars Bucky and i will never be. They don’t make you a monster and they don’t define you. They prove that you are a survivor. And i know that you will see that one day too. But until then, i will always be by your side to remind you.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, looking straight into your eyes, until he finally did what you both wanted for a long time. He leaned in and left a soft kiss to your lips, staying there for a little until he realized what he was doing and quicly moved back and sat up.
“I’m so sorry about that! I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable... i should probably leave.” he said quickly and started gathering his things.
You stood up and made your way over him, took his face into your hands and smashed your lips to his. He dropped he things he was carrying and put his arms around your waist bringing you closer so that your chests were pressed together. Your lips moved in sync and your hands make their way up to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. He licked your bottom lip asking for pesmission and when you opened your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth. After a while you both pulled back and stared into eachother’s eyes.
“Been wanting to do that for a long time.” you said biting your lip smiling, looking back at him.
“Did you now?” he chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Thank you. For everything you said about me. I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you.” he smiled and pressed his forehead against yours.
“Of course Buck. I’ll always be here for you.” you smiled back and looked at his lips again. “So...you wanna do that again?” you giggled.
“Absolutely” he smiled and leaned in again capturing your lips into his. His hands moved down to your ass giving it a squeeze, before hissing and pulling back because his back had just collided with the wall. He looked at you with furrowed brows, pretending to be angry because you had pushed him all the way back.
“Oops...”
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specialagentsergio · 4 years
Text
baby kiss it better
summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff
a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!
a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.
word count: 2.2k
masterlist
Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.
Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.
It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.
He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.
“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.
Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.
He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.
Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.
He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.
“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.
“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.
They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.
“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.
“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.
“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”
“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”
“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”
He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.
Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.
“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”
He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.
“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”
“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”
“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.
“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”
“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”
You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”
“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”
“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”
“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.
“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”
The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”
You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”
Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”
“Yes?”
“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.
You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.
“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.
He hums. “Better.”
“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”
Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.
“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”
“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.
“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.
“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.
“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.
“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”
“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.
“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”
“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.
Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”
“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”
“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.
Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.
“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah.”
“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.
Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.
A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”
Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.
“Found out what?”
“Found out about... you.”
Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”
“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.
“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”
“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”
“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.
“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”
“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”
You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”
“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”
He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.
“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.
“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”
Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”
“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.
Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.
“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”
“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”
The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.
Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).
It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.
“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”
Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”
“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.
“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”
You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”
He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.
“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.
Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.
---------------
tell me what you thought here!
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leviiattacks · 3 years
Note
hi hi hi i really really really loved your jealous headcanon of levi and your teacher levi!!! i was wondering if i could maybe request something where you kinda mix the two(?) so like theres this event going on in school and the reader is very occupied and busy because shes paying attention to her students and then maybe she talks to some teachers about the event and then levi is just there secretly sulking cause he wants her attention too?? or idk you do you because your works are always soooooooo good thank you<3333
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author note :: i did not stick to the prompt which was honestly an accident?/£/):7 but there is jealous levi and reader so i hope it workssss, it’s not that great and isn’t edited...but i hope you enjoy it :-( also thank you for the request you were very kind <3
for this to make more sense you’ll probably have to read my first ever teacher levi post which you can find here !!!!!
requests are always open :-)
word count :: 4.3k ???? longer than i expected ???? 
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levi groans at the mention of sports day before turning to look at you dead in the eyes
he knows this is your doing, you’ve always been big on getting the children into sport and other extracurriculars
now see, he has no actual issue with sports day?? he’s pretty fit if he says so himself!!!
it’s just that he frankly does not have the effort to participate.
another part of him also feels frustrated seeing mike flock around you like an annoying bee
he’s asking all sorts of questions
“are we doing the three legged race again this year?”
“how about javelin?”
“HAHA...mike...”
levi takes one look at you and knows you’re trying to let him down softly, it is his favourite event after all.
“since last year’s fiasco and the way you nearly hit one of the sixth graders i think not.” you awkwardly chuckle patting his shoulder as if it’s any consolation
mike loves sports day, he’s competitive in all of the teacher only events and last year he even tripped you and levi up ON PURPOSE might you add
either way he still lost the teacher’s three legged race last year and ever since he’s been out to gain his title back.
levi remembers, he’s unsure if you do but he remembers vividly having to carry you on his back because you had sprained your ankle pretty badly after your collision with mike.
back then you and levi were still in the middle of your little math vs english debate meaning the whole walk to the infirmary was filled with bickering.
and when levi had placed you onto one of the beds you insisted you could treat yourself when you really couldn’t
the way that scenario ended had been with levi forcing you to place your foot onto his knee as he iced and tended to it
this year levi is not having any repeats of that. yes, he quite liked having some alone time with you, in fact it was one of the first times he stopped to wonder if he liked you.
BUT!!!! having you limp around the corridors wasn’t the best either and you were highly irritable until you were fully healed
“why don’t you actually try this year?” hange stifles a laugh, they’re stood to levi’s left and upon hearing their voice his shoulders sag. he knows he’s in for one hell of an earful
“i do try–”
“yeah whatever. anyway, you want a cupcake?” hange’s gesturing to the haphazardly iced buns in the four plastic containers in their hands
“these are for the bake sale!!” they add in enthusiastically.
levi’s about to shake his head, he’s already donated to the bake sale’s charity fund without paying for any of the baked goods. yes it is purely because he doesn’t trust hange to feed him anything edible
“they’re y/n’s batch :-)” hange’s wickedly grinning knowing they’ve hit their colleagues weakness
without another thought levi’s right hand dives into one of his pockets, fishing his wallet out. he places a few spare coins into hange’s palm
“wOAH, you’re pretty eager aren’t ya??”
their remark flies over levi’s head as he tries to pick out two of the most presentable cupcakes
“you’re so fond of y/n, why not try a little harder like i said?” hange’s thrown the bait in the river and levi completely falls for it. he turns ninety degrees completely forgetting about the cupcakes.
“i’m talking about sport’s day if it isn’t obvious.”
he faces hange directly. he scowls twisted in fake disgust and confusion all at once
“and why would i care about that?” he shoots back
“after walking in on the both of you touching each other up in the janitor’s closet i’m really surprised you’re — mMMPH—” levi’s shoved one of the cupcakes into hange’s mouth
“you’re gonna have to pay for that–”
levi smacks some more money into their palm to appease the issue
“when did you see that and have you told anyone else?” he’s seething right now, there’s no way he or you were unable to notice someone as loud as hange prance into the storage cupboard accidentally
“i haven’t told anyone but it has only been three days since i saw so who knowsss...”
“i’ll do anything for you to keep your mouth shut.” levi’s practically begging at this point
“i think you should buy a whole box of cupcakes as compensation. my eyes will never be the same again.”
levi hands over more than enough money, he’s probably handed over enough for two boxes just for extra measure
it’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything no, no, not at all. he just, this sounds so stupid but he isn’t sure what the two of you are????
you’ve kissed, A LOT but the only problem is that there’s never actually been confirmation of... something more? than that?
he’s simply horrible at asking, and seeing the way you’re talking to mike it’s almost getting to the stage of borderline flirting
he’s currently flexing one of his muscles and levi’s unsure if you’re actually gawking at them or feigning interest so mike can get bored and leave sooner
his bets are on you pretending for the sake of mike leaving until you reach out to squeeze his arm appreciatively
...
what is this feeling??
insecurity?? a low self esteem??? levi isn’t entirely sure what the emotion that surges through him at that moment is
but hange sure does, grinning at the scene playing out they shove moblit with their elbow
well, well, well levi getting jealous is certainly something new.
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when levi knocks on the door of your classroom you assume he’s come to bother you and ask for the spreadsheet with grade averages and all that technical stuff
english and math grades need to be compared side by side and even though it’s your job to help with the data analysis you’re pretty bad at it so levi’s the one who USUALLY picks up the pieces and does it for the two of you
occasionally mike steps in and helps when levi’s got other stuff in the way
“oh levi!! mike told me he’d be doing this month’s spreadsheet?” you’ve poked your head out of the door to talk to him
levi’s eyes narrow at that because he hasn’t asked mike for help at all.
“i didn’t come here for the spreadsheet but i haven’t even told mike to assist me this month... i wonder why he’s so passionate.” he mumbles the last part under his breath
opening the door up you wave for him to come inside “what you here for then?” you ask, oOoh maybe he’s finished reading an inspector calls?? finally you can talk to someone about the twist at the end
“i’m taking part in sports day properly.” the statement is unexpected and ?? levi ?? take anything other than math seriously ??
“woah... i’m proud of you?? i’m glad you’re seeing it’s important to show the children physical activity is fun.” your smile brightens up the entire room and he begins to feel a little more confident
peering up at him your curiosity doesn’t go unnoticed and he clears his throat, he knows you’re expecting him to say something else
ok, ok, ok. he thinks he’s built enough courage up to ask you
“i’ve never got the chance to ask but would you like to go on a date?” on reflex levi screws his eyes shut, suddenly he’s convinced you’ll say no and reject him. why would you accept??
“sure!”
his eyes flutter open and he feels you grip at the sleeve of his shirt.
well? that went better than he expected?
“where do you want to go?” you ask
“doesn’t matter, but let’s go somewhere after sports day finishes up.”
“are you barely going to try like last year?” you’re munching away at a granola bar - it’s rather bland and makes your throat feel kinda scratchy
you’re midway through drinking some water to deal with the dryness but you nearly spit it out when levi responds
“no. i plan on winning every single teacher event.”
HE WANTS TO??? beat???? everyone???
“you’re planning on beating mike too?” you tilt your head to the side incredulously
levi purses his lips at the mention of his name
“why does that sound so absurd to you?”
“he’s um, very good at sport that’s all.”
“i am too.” levi’s adamant to prove his point to you
“fine, here’s a deal. win at least one teacher event and i’ll try and solve one of your funny math problems or whatever.”
“what kind of deal is that??”
“you’ll be able to see me struggle with numbers, for free!!”
“no. i have something better in mind.” levi bites his smile back, he can’t let you know the idea makes him feel
“and that would be?”
he takes a step forward decreasing the space between the two of you.
“how about you kiss me in front of everyone?”
your mouth falls open because oh wow....? you have no actual problem with the task you’re simply surprised that levi is willing to put the both of you out there like that. the spectacle is bound to raise some eyebrows
“deal?” he holds his hand out for you to shake
you nod your head. “it’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
and so your deal is sealed with a firm handshake.
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the big day has ARRIVED!!!
all of the students are flooding in through the gates. some carry footballs, other basketballs. you’ve been here for less than ten minutes and had to save a ball from crashing right into an expensive window.
everyone’s wearing active gear, udo walks in with a ski mask on?? which is peculiar but it’s humorous so you don’t tell him off for it
you’ve chosen a comfortable olive green tracksuit, you don’t think you’re in the mood for ski masks like udo is
coincidentally levi happens to show up in the EXACT same type of tracksuit?? everything’s the same to the colour. you both stare at each other for a moment trying to figure out how exactly you managed that but give up, you guess you have similar tastes
the accidental coordinated outfits have a few of your students pointing and chuckling together
gabi and falco are laughing heartily and whispering god knows what about the two of you
“three legged race partner?” levi asks as he fills up some water bottles for the water stand
“oh? mike asked me to be his partner.”
levi doesn’t make it obvious that he’s jealous about it because what adult would be jealous over a three legged race??
but even if you can’t tell levi is pissed mike sure can
he’s walking past the two of you, hands shoved into his pockets when he spots you a few meters away. his eyes sparkle when he sees you. it’s at that moment he senses the dark piercing glare coming from your right.
you’ve yet to notice mike but levi’s seen him approaching from a mile away and he isn’t particularly happy about it.
the good thing about mike is that he knows not to mess with levi.
the two have known each other for years and by now mike knows messing with levi is a death wish in itself.
so when the poor physical ed teacher notices the way levi glowers at him he calls out your name to get your attention - he’s much too afraid to get anywhere near you
“Y/N!!”
whipping your head around you wave at your race partner, why does it look like he’s seen a ghost?? you shove that thought to the back of your mind, he’s probably just tired
“petra doesn’t have a partner and uhh... i think levi’s free. could you work with him instead?”
levi turns away to smile to himself. ah how the tables have turned!!!
“but i want to work with you? it’s always y/n and levi do this. y/n and levi do that!! i wanna try with someone else.”
what you’ve said is a lie. honestly you’d just like to see levi get worked up again
but levi doesn’t get the memo at all. it flies over his head and he huffs thinking if that’s what you want he doesn’t mind. he’ll just show you how he feels.
“it’s okay. i’ll go with petra.” levi nonchalantly salutes at both you and mike as he walks backwards before turning around to locate the ginger in question
WHY DID HE GIVE IN SO EASILY???? YOU WERE JOKING?????
with your mouth open wide mike looks at you once and puts the pieces together
“guessing you wanted him to stick around?” you suddenly hear and god, you feel kinda bad
“oh no!!! i would love to be your partner.” looping your arm with his you smile up at him
whether or not mike believes you isn’t clear but he does return your smile.
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there’s a few minutes till the three legged race starts, everyone’s running around. erwin’s knelt down to tie yours and mike’s legs together
as he’s doing so you can’t help but hear a high pitched windshieldy giggle leave petra and you visibly seem annoyed. that’s if your arms crossed over your chest and clenched jaw are anything to go by
levi hasn’t even said anything notably funny ???? what is she laughing at ????
he’s quite literally just standing there making awkward small talk with her
it goes something like this
“have you marked your exams yet?”
levi doesn’t realise she’s said anything till she taps his shoulder and he asks for her to repeat her question
“oh.” he thinks for a while. “no not yet. i’ve got better shit to do. i don’t see them till next week either way.”
and then she just starts laughing so hard that she has to hold her knees and when that isn’t enough she holds onto a nearby pole for support
you see where this is going
when her breathing gets even more uneven she reaches out to grab levi’s upper arm
YUP. you knew it. you can’t be mad at her really. no one knows you and levi are sort of a thing.
a thing? is that the term? well, whatever late night calls discussing books and a few heated kisses in private mean that’s what you are
levi stares at the hold she has on his arm and you expect him to shrug her off. instead he sees you look, smirks a little and waves all the while letting her hand stay there
and the icing on the cake is petra waving at you too and her eyes are much more expressive than she thinks they are
she’s internally laughing at you for sure.
ok, not a big deal, NOT a big deal!!!
this is just him getting back at you for before.
flipping your head back your sad expression probably catches mike’s attention because he seems to cave in
“want to make him jealous back?”
his suggestion is interesting but you catch yourself second guessing
“he’s doing that because he’s jealous.” you mumble shaking your leg to test the strength of erwin’s knot
“and? don’t let him win.” he glances at his shoulder gesturing for you to make the next move
nodding your head vigorously you throw your arm over mike’s shoulder but find he’s too tall to make that work so instead you settle on holding him by the side
it takes you a little to adjust to the close proximity but in the time it takes you to do that mike informs you of levi glaring at the two of you
“mind if i hold onto you here? we can coordinate our moves faster!!!” petra doesn’t even wait for levi to agree to what she says. she just flings one of her arms around his torso
again, he lets her just as last time.
this game of cat and mouse is getting tiring, maybe you should have kept your mouth shut when mike approached you.
“ON YOUR MARKS.”
your senses snap back to where you are. your grip on mike’s torso firms and he turns to nod at you.
you nod back.
you’ll win this.
“GET SET.”
“AND GO!”
okay, SO.
something in your game plan must have gone wrong but mike’s strength is something you’ve clearly underestimated. his first step is so powerful you don’t even have the time to start moving
you assume that’s how you collapse to the ground behind him and scrape your hands onto the cement of the track
so much for winning. all you’re doing is bleeding and hissing trying to cope with the stinging sensation
“mike?!?? not again??” hange groans and jogs over to the two of you untying the ropes at your legs.
“do we have to ban you from another event??? you’re too reckless sometimes.” hange smacks his chest and then hurriedly whispers “levi’s coming this way if you value your life you better bolt and use the first aid kit as an excuse.”
mike doesn’t even debate with himself, that’s his best bet at staying alive and so he dashes away as if he’s left the shower on at home for five hours unattended
some students are murmuring under their breaths and luckily for you the forever reliable gabi and falco have come to your rescue with bandages
“show me your hands.” levi’s hard voice interrupts all discussion. petra’s stood peering over his shoulder and you swear you catch her muffling a laugh
levi frowns. “you good?” he asks. you assume this answer will be the deciding factor regarding whether or not he makes this an issue with mike
“i’m great – trust me!! just a few scrapes.”
levi doesn’t look convinced but he let’s it go.
he helps you get up and takes the bandages from gabi thanking her.
“i’ll patch y/n up.” he tells hange pointedly and they agree. moblit at that moment happens to run over with a megaphone in hand.
“SHOWS OVER FOLKS!! WE’LL MOVE ON TO THE JUMP ROPE EVENT FOR NOW!!!”
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“i’ll make him lose the one hundred meter sprint so badly he won’t know what hit him.” levi’s been grumbling the entire time he’s sat down to bandage your hands.
now that you’re both sat close to each other again murmurs of “matching tracksuits??” are back
“you don’t have to it was a mistake levi.”
levi shrugs eyes scanning his handiwork. “i want to. i’ve got to earn my kiss in front of a crowd anyway.”
gently letting go of your hand he looks out onto the track waiting to be called.
you’ve never seen levi give his full effort into sports day but even then you’re unsure if he’ll ever be able to beat mike.
honestly mike sure is fast and you recall one of the children referring to him with the nickname lightening bolt
and speak of the devil. a group of children walk past and are talking about the teacher’s race
“mr bolt’s gonna win for sure. you seen him run?? he could be an olympian!!!!” zofia’s gushing about him, she happens to be a big fan
the only nickname you’ve ever heard for levi is ursula – “ursula sure is evil for giving us that much work >:(” you had heard udo say once during class but after the earful he got from gabi he never used the name again, neither did anyone else
a few more minutes pass in a comfortable silence and levi’s called over to his lane. you’ve accepted the fact that there’s no changing his mind and he’s bound to compete now
“wait for me by the finish line.” he instructs and so you do. you go your separate paths. he to his lane (he’s in the lane two) and you to the finish line
petra’s already standing there waiting. her elbows are propped onto the railing peering out towards the contestants.
making your way to stand with her you see her sigh dreamily at levi in the distance
“hey, i know you don’t like levi a whole lot. you know your fued and all but do you think he’d say yes if i asked him out?”
well.
that sure is unexpected.
you fight the urge to scoff because you know you and levi are starting to drop more hints. is this her way of finding out the truth?
“me and levi don’t hate each other actually.”
“oh, well dislike.”
“we don’t dislike each other.”
“tolerate?” she takes her bottom lip in between her teeth trying to control her frustration
“petra. i like levi.” your confession knocks the wind out of her. you both silently exchange looks. she’s very clearly in disbelief.
the next time she speaks the previous playful lilt in her voice is long gone
“as soon as you noticed i liked him you just had to decide you liked him too. people like you make my skin crawl.”
?????????
why is she so bitter?.)/&£:
you can’t help liking levi and he likes you too,, so what now??
“he likes me back petra. can we be civil about this? i don’t like workplace drama. i had no idea you were into him.” you’re hoping that this will happen to shut her up but NO!!! it doesn’t she’s only more mouthy now
“prove it.” she points one of her manicured fingers into your chest and demands evidence she doesn’t even deserve to see
“what???”
“if he likes you back so much he should be able to show it.”
you know, if it were any day, any other time or any other person asking you this you would have out right refused, but given the circumstances and levi already waiting on you to kiss him in front of the entirety of the school you see no issue with having the last laugh in this argument
“fair enough.” you mutter and lean over to see hange announce the countdown
“ON YOUR MARKS.”
“GET SET.”
“AND GO!!!”
you swear you blink because GOD what on EARTH????? you don’t understand why previous to this levi balked at the thought of participating because he’s made it look so easy.
he’s not bolted he may as well have TELEPORTED to the finish line. mike is breaking out in a sweat far behind him and the boyish grin on levi’s face is enough to tell how he feels
gasps and applause can be heard from the children. zofia and udo are passionately arguing about some bet they’ve made - you make a mental note to tell them that making deals is fun as long as they don’t bet large amounts of money
levi’s jogging up to you completely ignoring petra’s presence
“told you i’d do it. i avenged you didn’t i?” you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so confidently in public 
you acknowledge what he’s said with a cartoon like thumbs up and then you’re staring at him unable to locate your courage
oh fuck it
you lean in hurriedly and steal a peck from him. he blinks and then scowls much to petra’s amusement. she has to think he’s about to curse you out but unbeknownst to her she’s read the situation wrong
“is that your idea of a kiss??”
and then he takes matters into his own hands – no literally into his own hands. he cups your face in his palms and captures your lips with his own. as you reciprocate petra can be heard choking on her saliva.
“OH well who would’ve guessed the english and math department had an alliance????? not me???” next is hange, they’re feigning shock even though they’ve known what the two of you have been up to this entire time
the whispers have now become full on shouts
“i KNEW it they were dating?!?!”
“MAN??? I HAD A CRUSH ON MR ACKERMAN WHAT NOW???”
gabi and falco are audibly cheering, you’re quite sure they realised what was up long ago
“DON’T BE UPSET BUT I THINK THIS IS WAYYY BETTER THAN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE!!!!” falco’s comment makes your heart rise in your chest
and you know what? you think so too.
as levi’s hand travels to the back of your neck pressing you further into him you come to the conclusion that maybe just maybe this is far better than pride and prejudice ever will be :-)
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meow-sic · 3 years
Text
they call you annoying
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𓆝 includes : joe , langa , reki x !gn reader !
𓆟 genre : angst to fluff !
𓆞 authors note : back to writing! :)
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joe / kojiro
you followed behind kojiro with cherry. today was supposed to be a nice day, if joe didn’t have to flirt with every girl he saw.
you and cherry talked about mindless things until you and kojiro got to the car. you hugged cherry goodbye and he told you to text him later.
you got in the car, kojiro didn’t even notice your off behavior. he put a hand on your thigh in the car and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“today was fun, yeah?” he turned on the car and began to back out of cherry’s driveway to go home.
“mhm,” you mumbled back, looking out the window. he was confused, but he brushed it off maybe thinking you were tired from the day.
“so…when do you think we should do that again? maybe we can invite langa and reki next time?” he tried to lighten the air.
but you kept shutting it down, only replying with a: “yeah” or “mhm” or sometimes, just a nod of your head.
once you got home you instantly went to your shared bedroom with a slam of the door. he huffed and threw his arms up in the air in confusion.
he mumbled a few curses under his breath in frustration, but he walked up to your room and knocked.
“hey, you okay?” he asked as he opened the door and walked in. you were sitting on the bed.
you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him forever, not when he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulder sympathetically.
you wiped the few tears that threatened to fall. “i just- i don’t like it when girls are constantly around you,” you expected endless apologies and affirmations.
but instead, he unwrapped his arm from your shoulder and scoffed. “what? i cant help that girls are around me all the time.”
your mouth dropped agape and your eyebrows furrowed. “e-excuse me? i’m trying to tell you how i feel and you’re literally dismissing it! what, because you want-what? female attention!”
“just because you’re insecure that doesn’t mean i can’t hangout with other people,” he scoffed. “you’re being so annoying right now.”
he didn’t look back at you until he heard sniffles. “wait i’m- i-“
“i’m going to go since, you know, i’m annoying,” you got up and walked out the room. joe sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
after a while, once he talked to cherry about it, he goes to talk to you to apologize for the way he was acting.
you sat on the couch, arms crossed with your cheeks puffed as you watch tv. he smiles, he thinks you look adorable.
he comes up behind you and hugs you. “m sorry. you’re not annoying, and you weren’t being insecure. i’d be the same way seeing guys drool over ya.”
you simply sighed, not quite ready to forgive him yet. “you’re forgetting something.”
he made his way around the couch and layed his head on your chest. “and i love you.”
you ran your fingers through his hair, “mhm. i love you too.”
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langa hasegawa
he’s usually so calm with you, patient, always waiting and willing to listen to your view of the story to make sure you’re most comfortable with him at all times.
but when he started to practice more, then he started to invite reki everywhere.
you adored reki, but you wanted some time with you and your boyfriend to yourself. you barely have any time anymore to yourselves.
you met him at his apartment, his mom was gone at work and you studied while you waited.
when he came back, it was pretty late. you turned towards him and gave a soft smile. “hey hon.”
“hey, you’re here late,” he hung up his work shirt on a hanger and changed into what he usually would wear to S.
“wa-wait are you leaving?” you asked, standing up. he furrowed his eyebrows. he usually leaves once work is done.
“yeah?”
“i just thought we could spend some time together,” you said quietly. he paused, “but we spend time together already.”
your heart paused for a moment. it was clear already he wasn’t going to see your point. you hesitated to reply, “yes.. but when we do, reki is always along. i thought we could have time to ourselves, maybe to watch a movie and something?”
“i fail to see your point.” he shot your statement down right away. “we hang out everyday, with reki or not we’re still together.”
you swallowed the thick lump in your throat. “langa, you don’t understand-“
“look, i really don’t have time right now and you’re being quite annoying about this topic. i promised i would meet reki and miya five minutes ago. you’re being quite a handful right now.”
and with that, he left. you rubbed your face in frustration and decided to leave. you didn’t even bother to leave a note or shoot him a text.
you were really upset that he excused his feelings. but, to avoid further argument of you being a ‘handful’ you decided to give him some space.
langa wasn’t that affectionate in public to begin with. a small hand hold, or head kiss was fine enough. but now, it seemed like you would want someone in between you two when walking.
one day, he asks you to come over. you were scared, you didn’t want to break up, and you figured that’s what he wanted to talk about. you just wanted to give him space.
so when you made your way into his room and sat next to him, you just broke down. the whole week of avoiding him was hell enough, but too add to it your mom was mad at you, you had too much homework, and you were overwhelmed with work.
he wrapped his arm around you and comforted you. “hey, hey what’s wrong? why have you been avoiding me all week?”
“because—“ when you went to explain yourself you realized how stupid you felt. you put your face in your hands. “i feel dumb saying why.”
he shushed you and rubbed the side of your arm. “it’s not dumb if it made you avoid me for a week. you can tell me, promise.”
“last week you called me annoying and a handful. i just didn’t want to be annoying to you so i thought giving you space would help. i was scared to tell you how i felt since when i did you just went off to skate with reki after i told you i was upset about that.”
he pause for a second to take your words in, then he sighed. “i was being a jerk, and i didn’t mean any of it. i’m sorry for dismissing your feelings, how you feel is totally valid and i’ll try working on it. you aren’t annoying, okay?” he pushed your hair away from your face to cup it so he could kiss your nose.
“how about we watch the movie you wanted to last week, yeah?”
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reki kyan
reki was back into his seasonal depression episode. it usually happens towards the winter, where school gets stressful, skating also gets stressful where he wants to do nothing but lay around.
langa and miya have told you about his seasonal depression, but you didn’t think it would be as bad as it is.
his mother stood in the doorway, “oh, good, you’re here! reki is in his room, he’s going through a tough time right now.”
you nodded and walked past her. you creeped open the door and knocked on it with your knuckle.
he didn’t look good. his hair was a mess, his clothes were dirty, and it looks like he had just woke up.
at 12:10pm.
“reki..” you sighed and walked over to him. you sat by his legs and brushed his hair with your fingers. “honey i know it’s tough, but why don’t you take a shower?”
he groaned. “no. cant.”
you weren’t sure how to comfort him. you wanted to give him what he wanted, and leave him be, but you knew he would never get better then.
before you could even say anything he spoke up. “why are you guy even here?”
“langa told me that you were having a tough time..” you trailed, still playing with his hair.
something in him must have snapped, because he wacked your hand away and sat up abruptly. “i am, so i think you should leave.”
you scoffed slightly. “reki, i know you’re going through a tough time but you can’t speak to me like that, i just want to help.”
“we’ll clearly you’re not helping so leave,” his eyes stared you down. your entire happy mood of trying to help him and being excited to be with your boyfriend was ruined.
“bottling up how you feel won’t help reki!”
he groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “fine! you want me to tell you how i feel?” he yelled.
you flinched slightly at him yelled and swallowed the lump in your throat. you just looked down at your lap while he stood up in front of you.
“how i feel is that you’re annoying and clingy! i cant ever have a moment to myself, you always try to act like you need me! you don’t need me and i don’t need you!” his breath was heavy and his voice cracked as he yelled at you.
you sobbed. you didn’t-couldn’t say anything. you just got up and left. he sighed, irritated and ran his fingers through his hair again. he felt the warm spot in the back of his head, the spot where you were petting, trying to comfort him.
he knew he screwed up. so the week after that, he gave you flowers, apologies, kisses, and affirmations to make you feel how you did before.
but it could never heal what he did say to you, those words stuck with you. so now you always try to give him space. you try not to be annoying, and clingy like he said. the week of sweet things he did for you wasn’t enough to fix the wounds he’s caused.
“you’ve been really spacious recently. is everything alright?” he asked one night while you two were cuddling in his room. you were actually quite far away from him.
he was feeling pretty touch starved, and craved your touch. but all you replied with was a “mhm, i’m fine.”
“are you sure? you can always talk to me.”
all the emotions you tried to keep from him finally let out. you covered your face, embarrassed, as you cried.
he quickly hugged you, “hey you can tell me what’s wrong.”
“do you really think i’m annoying and clingy?” you asked.
he remembered that night, making him upset you believed his words that he didn’t even mean. “no! oh, God, of course no! honey, you’re not annoying or clingy.”
“you sure..?”
“yes! i’d never mean it, ever in a million years,” he kissed your head. he continued to hold you until you relaxed into his arms, and eventually fell asleep.
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Text
It’s come to my attention that a good majority of people on this website have a really poor understanding of the conflict between Toph and Katara in “The Chase.” As somebody who loves both characters and their friendship, this irritates me. Without further ado, let’s unpack that in what is in theory supposed to be a meta but turned out more like a rant. 
“Katara was hostile towards Toph because the fact that she’s a gender non-conforming girl made Katara uncomfortable because Katara is obsessed with gender roles.”
Alright, so right off the bat this is just... completely idiotic and clearly fuelled by an agenda (and likely also a lot of projection). First of all, how is Katara of “I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” fame “obsessed with gender roles?” There’s an entire episode in Book One dedicated to Katara refusing to conform to societal norms for women in the Northern Water Tribe! Katara routinely calls Sokka out on his misogynistic bullshit! (Mind you I adore Sokka but he could be a little twerp at times and Katara was 100% right to challenge him on it) Katara is the feminist icon of ATLA! The fact that people act like Katara is some sort of conservative tradwife who loves gender roles instead of the outspoken feminist and political activist she is makes me incredibly angry.
Second of all, Katara was extremely kind and welcoming towards Toph at first. She gently encouraged her to join in with the group as they all set up camp together as opposed to setting up her own private camp. It’s only when Toph refuses to comply with her that Katara begins to get irritated. Mind you, Toph has her reasons for this, something I’ll get to in a minute, but from Katara’s perspective (key word here is perspective) she’s just being an annoying little stubborn, selfish, lazy, anti-social, entitled brat. Of course we the audience find out later that this isn’t the case at all (or at least in theory we should find out later but apparently some people on here skipped that part), but for all her many talents Katara is not a mind reader and has no way of knowing what’s going on inside Toph’s head, nor does she know her well enough yet to fully grasp the context behind why Toph acts the way she does. Katara is somebody who greatly values community and believes in teamwork, so Toph turning down her warm welcome in favour of “carrying her own weight” likely felt like a slap in the face. Not to mention that she’s already emotionally exhausted from having to constantly mother Aang and Sokka. If I were Katara, I likely would have reacted the same way. 
Oh and I agree that the “the stars look beautiful tonight, too bad you can’t see them, Toph” comment was out of line, but it doesn’t make her a horrible person. It makes her a 14 year old, and 14 year olds can be nasty, especially sleep deprived 14 year olds. Katara is otherwise a very kind and compassionate person. Other characters have said worse than that. Hell, Toph herself has said worse than that. That being said, it was a deeply hurtful comment and I do like to imagine that she apologized for it off-screen. 
“Toph is a lazy, entitled, and classist spoiled rich brat who just didn’t want to do chores and expected other people to wait on her.” 
This is another one that makes me roll my eyes and ask if they even watched the show. First of all, the presumption that Toph is a lazy or entitled person is just... laughable. I feel like people forget that Toph isn’t actually an earthbending prodigy in the way that Azula is a firebending prodigy (I could say more about Azula and how her belief that she was the unshakeable prodigal daughter ultimately caused her downfall and how by the end of the series Zuko is arguably a better firebender than her but this isn’t a meta about Azula and Zuko, now is it?). Nah. Toph was a sheltered kid who discovered she had the ability to earthbend, was told that she could never become great at it because she was blind, and in response said FUCK THAT and decided to work her ass off until she was not only great but the very greatest all thanks to her crazy, stupid, off-the-charts nerve, drive, grit, ambition, and desire to prove people wrong about her. Does that sound like a lazy person to you? Believe me when I say that you do not achieve that kind of skill level by sitting around on your ass and expecting to have things handed to you. And entitled? Don’t make me laugh. Toph hates having things handed to her, that’s one of her defining characteristics. 
As for the implication that she’s classist and enjoys basking in her family’s wealth and being waited on...... are you stupid? Did you even watch the show? Toph absolutely despises everything about her parents’ lifestyle. Growing up like that was traumatizing and restrictive for her. We’re talking about a girl who likes to play around in the mud for fuck’s sake. Toph does not care how much money you have. She never wanted any to begin with. She even says it herself; “I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. They gave me everything I could have wanted. But they never gave me what I actually needed - their love.” Not to mention that she easily could have continued to freeload off her parents wealth but instead chose to sneak out of the house and make her own money doing what she did best; disproving people’s assumptions about her earthbending. Oh and I’ve seen someone point this out before but WWE is generally considered a “low brow” activity that “proper” people frown upon and shouldn’t associate themselves with. Toph fucking loved it. I don’t know how seriously people take the comics, as they often miss the mark when it comes to characterization (Toph’s, however, was generally pretty accurate), but there’s a part in The Rift where Sokka asks her when she’s going to start charging people to learn metalbending and she gets all serious and flat out tells him that she will never do such a thing, because money doesn’t matter to her. Sharing her one true passion with the world is what matters to her. Oh and the part where she basically tells a bunch of rich and sleazy businessmen to fuck off and “stop thinking about money and start thinking about people’s lives” is just... *chef’s kiss* Sorry my thoughts here are so incoherent but this take is so piss poor and makes me so angry that I don’t even know where to start. As for “Toph enjoys being waited on” I just- *sigh* Toph has such a visceral and defensive reaction to any implication that she is unable to take care of herself. Like I said earlier, that’s one of her defining characteristics as well as the reason for her behaviour in “The Chase.” Where are people getting these takes?
You wanna know why Toph acted the way she did in The Chase? Well, first let’s recap her life up to this point. Toph was born the blind daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Kingdom. From day one her parents treated her like glass due to her disability. She was not allowed to leave her house unsupervised, and even then she was only permitted to walk around the gardens of her home. Every day of her life she was pitied, gaslit, babied, ignored, emotionally neglected, and made to feel ashamed of herself. She was not allowed to make any decisions for herself. She was not allowed to do anything for herself. She was not allowed to talk to other children. She had no friends. Other people didn’t even know she existed on account that her parents kept her locked up in her own home and didn’t tell anybody about her because they were so ashamed to have a blind daughter. Flash forward to “The Chase.” Toph begins to set up her own camp separate from the rest of the Gaang. Considering that she flat out was not socialized as a child and hadn’t even interacted with anybody her own age prior to a few days ago, this is understandable. So then Katara comes up to her and asks her why she isn’t setting up camp with the others as if she’s somehow incapable of taking care of herself (again, this is just what happened from her perspective) like she’s her mom or something and it just angers her because she thought she joined this group to get away from all that and she doesn’t understand how friends work because she’s never had one, all she knows is that apparently this girl thinks she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, and that infuriates her because it’s the exact same bullshit she thought she was running away from.
There’s a lot more I could say about this but I’m sick of typing so yeah in conclusion both of these takes are piss poor and I’m sick of having to read them. Stan Toph, Katara, and their friendship. 
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
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Spilled Pearls
- Chapter 15 - ao3 -
“I thought Sect Leader Wen was above visiting other sects,” Lan Qiren said sullenly, leading Wen Ruohan on a tour through the Cloud Recesses. He had nothing better to do: classes had been temporarily dismissed on account of sect business, what with the teachers all being recruited to receive the Wen sect’s retinue; at this rate, this year’s rogue cultivators wouldn’t learn anything of value, and Lan Qiren had the sneaking suspicion that it was somehow all his fault.
“I can’t imagine why you think that. Don’t I attend every discussion conference without fail?” Wen Ruohan said smoothly even though that wasn’t what Lan Qiren had meant and he knew it.
Wen Ruohan normally treated himself and his clan like the imperium, preferring to summon visitors rather than go to visit. Presumably, in this instance, it was only that his desire to bother Lan Qiren had overcome his vanity, or else perhaps he’d reminded himself that even the Emperor would sometimes summer at the homes of his lackeys, allowing them an unasked-for opportunity to pay homage to him.
Truly a very irritating man. Lan Qiren was almost entirely sure that it wasn’t his adolescent brain speaking, either, though he supposed he couldn’t discount the possibility entirely – he’d been very irritated by Cangse Sanren, too, and they were friends now.
Actually, he was still pretty irritated with her sometimes. Maybe it was just a symptom of adolescence. Or perhaps it was that strange similarity he sometimes found himself observing between them, whether it was their seeming timelessness or their overweening arrogance...
Well, when in doubt, there were always the rules: Do not disrespect your elders.
Also possibly Have affection and gratefulness, though that one had always been hard.
Lan Qiren took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then released it, taking stock of himself: his walking pace was steady, his hands were clasped together so that they didn’t flail, and his appearance was calm. It was just a matter of getting his emotions under control, and he had plenty of experience with that.
“You’re right,” he finally said, releasing his irritation with an effort of willpower. “You do. I was being rude, and it was uncalled for. Is there any particular part of the Cloud Recesses that da-ge would like to see? I doubt the Library Pavilion or the main buildings have varied much since your last visit, but the gardens and wild forest are beautiful this time of year.”
Wen Ruohan was quiet for a while, the two of them walking side by side in silence, and then unexpectedly he said, “Does the Lan sect use well-water or river-water as your main source of drinking water?”
Lan Qiren stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not telling you that. That’s private!”
“Is it?”
“Not everyone’s like the Nightless City, telling everyone that they rely on a half-dozen imported sources for their food and drink and challenging them to try to do something about it,” Lan Qiren said crossly, and tried to remind himself Sneering for no reason is prohibited. “I’m not actually a half-wit, you know.”
“You misunderstand me,” Wen Ruohan said, though his eyes, narrow with satisfaction like a cat, suggested that he would have been more than happy to take advantage of the situation if Lan Qiren had been so foolish. “I only wished to know whether it was the source of water they are drinking that has rendered them all blind to the treasure they hold in their hands.”
“…I’m not showing you our treasury, either.”
Wen Ruohan barked a laugh. “That’s not what I meant, either. Why don’t you show me your Wall of Discipline? I’m sure there are a few new rules since last time.”
There probably were – the rules were like water, both eternal and in a constant state of flux – so Lan Qiren obediently turned his feet in that direction.
“It’s not a work-day,” he warned. “So you’ll miss out on any carving. But the rules are there, and I can answer any questions you have about them, if you like.”
“Any question? A bold claim.”
“Any question I know the answer to,” Lan Qiren clarified. “If I don’t, I can ask one of my teachers, or look at the books in the library.”
They walked in silence a little longer, although a surprisingly comfortable one given their age difference and Wen Ruohan’s general aura of barely restrained bloodthirst. Perhaps Lan Qiren was just getting used to it.
“Have I disturbed your afternoon plans with my visit?” Wen Ruohan eventually asked, gazing at the Wall contemplatively.
“I was going to meditate in the Cold Spring,” Lan Qiren said. “But it’s nothing I can’t do another time.”
“A Cold Spring?” A faint smirk flickered on Wen Ruohan’s face. “That’s useful for the suppression of yang energy.”
“And for cultivation, and for healing, and for encouraging clarity of thought,” Lan Qiren said, and managed to keep from rolling his eyes. “Of course, if da-ge is having some trouble controlling his lascivious thoughts, he is welcome to try it out. Such requests are not uncommon among newlyweds.”
Wen Ruohan was smirking outright now. “Tell me, little Lan, has that sharp tongue of yours ever cut the inside of your mouth? Or is that something you reserve for me?”
Lan Qiren pretended not to hear him and instead pointed out one of the rules on the Wall. “I always rather liked that one.”
Wen Ruohan glanced over and saw Have wins and losses - otherwise known, colloquially, as don’t be a sore loser - and grinned. “Oh, really? I find I’m rather partial to Honor the aged and wise, myself.”
“Really? And here I would have thought someone as humble as da-ge would opt for Do not say one thing and mean another, or maybe the prohibition against praising yourself.”
“Are you saying I do not count as aged, little Lan?”
“I would never question your years,” Lan Qiren said. “But the rule does include two clauses.”
Wen Ruohan was surprised into a snicker. “Sharp and sharper! Is this more of your vaunted Do not tell lies?”
“Be of one mind,” Lan Qiren retorted. “Anyway, you enjoy it, or else you would’ve just pointed out Do not argue with your family.”
“Indeed, I am not Qingheng-jun,” Wen Ruohan said, his smile poisonous, and Lan Qiren, struck dead on by the accurate blow, could only glare at him. “My little brother can argue with me any time he pleases…and does, I find. I told you to come to the Nightless City, and you disobeyed.”
“Learning comes first,” Lan Qiren said. “I had classes. Like I told you!”
“And your father and brother agreed with your prioritization?”
Lan Qiren winced, having not told them of Wen Ruohan’s request for exactly that reason.
Wen Ruohan only smirked, though, and did not call him out on it further. “Perhaps I will take you up on your offer,” he remarked instead, and for a moment Lan Qiren had no idea what he was talking about. “Travel is always so wearying, and I’ve heard fine things about the quality of the Cold Spring in Gusu.”
Right, that.
Lan Qiren was pretty sure he was allowed to make that offer.
“Unless of course you planned to have other company there…?” Wen Ruohan glanced at him and saw his confusion. “Your little immortal’s disciple lover?”
“Certainly not!” Lan Qiren exclaimed. “Men and women do not mix like that. Anyway, she’s not my lover. We’re only friends. She’s agreed.”
Wen Ruohan’s eyebrows went up as if Lan Qiren had revealed more than he’d intended.
“Very well,” he said, sounding almost agreeable. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Lan Qiren eyed him suspiciously.
“I’d still like to meet her.”
Of course he would.
“She might not like you,” Lan Qiren warned, shaking his head. Cangse Sanren was a warm and generous person, but her views were unshakable once set, and she feared nothing; he could only guess at the monstrous clash of egos that was about to take place. “But she should be by the training field at this time of day; we can go there next.”
Wen Ruohan reached out and ran his fingers along the Wall – seemingly at random, hitting Change clothes after taking a bath and No adornments that make sound as he did – and then turned to follow Lan Qiren with a look in his eyes that Lan Qiren did not understand.
“Then let us go,” he said.
As he’d thought, Cangse Sanren was practicing alone in the training field, looking especially fierce with her hair flowing freely in the wind as she danced with blade and horsetail whisk. Lan Qiren waited until she was done with her current set before clearing his throat to announce their presence; when she turned, he pulled out a ribbon from his sleeve – he’d taken to carrying spares – and offered it to her.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” he said to her. “It doesn’t matter how high your cultivation is, it’s still not going to help you in a fight if the wind changes mid-move and you get smacked in the face with your own hair.”
“Maybe,” she sniffed. “But I look amazing.”
Lan Qiren rolled his eyes.
“This is Cangse Sanren, a disciple of Baoshan Sanren,” he told Wen Ruohan. “She has no personal name, so don’t ask for one. Cangse Sanren, this is Sect Leader Wen.”
Lan Qiren had heard rumors that Wen Ruohan had once had a personal title, but that he hadn’t liked it, and that he’d ensured that no one ever dared to use it to his face. At any rate, Lan Qiren didn’t know it now and could not use it as an introduction.
Not that Cangse Sanren would have cared, of course. She raised her hands in a salute, boldly keeping her head raised and the bow shallow enough to be insolent.
“I’ve heard of you,” she said, her eyes slightly narrowed.
“And I of you,” Wen Ruohan responded. “It’s been a long time since a disciple has descended from the immortal mountain. Tell me, are you planning on joining the Lan sect?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said. “Are you planning on proposing some alternative you think I might like better?”
“Perhaps I will. You never know what the future might bring.”
“Knowing the present and the past would seem a sufficient guide to me.”
Lan Qiren looked between them in growing alarm as they exchanged seemingly pleasant words in cutting tones. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected this, but perhaps not quite so quickly...
“Could the two of you maybe not do this?” he asked, feeling a little plaintive. He didn’t want to have to explain how a casual tour designed to kill time had escalated into an inter-sect issue. “Cangse Sanren, if my da-ge’s presence bothers you, we can just leave.”
Cangse Sanren broke away from the staring match she’d started with Wen Ruohan to frown at him. “You call him da-ge?”
“Is there any reason he shouldn’t?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was as smooth as the silk used to execute empresses. “He’s my sworn brother, after all.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said. “It’s only that he calls Qingheng-jun ‘xiongzhang’.”
Wen Ruohan seemed a little surprised by that. He glanced at Lan Qiren, who scowled back at him. “So what?” he said, feeling oddly defensive. “You asked to be called ‘da-ge’.”
“I suppose I did,” Wen Ruohan said, and his lips curled upwards in satisfaction.
“Hey, Lan-xiao-gege,” Cangse Sanren suddenly said, and Lan Qiren automatically glared: he didn’t like her calling him that. “Could you get me a ribbon from my room?”
“What? I just gave you –”
“There’s one in particular inside a qiankun pouch on my desk,” she said, barreling on. “You can just bring the whole thing. I need it rather urgently, and for various reasons cannot go myself.”
“But –”
“You shouldn’t deny a lady in need, little Lan,” Wen Ruohan interjected. “Don’t forget that chivalry is one of your rules. Go and return; I will wait for you here.”
“And I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he does,” Cangse Sanren said, which was horribly rude even if he did somewhat need that reassurance. “Please, Qiren-gege? Would you?”
“…all right,” Lan Qiren said, having the distinct feeling that he was being ganged up on. “I’ll be back right away.”
There was a rule against running, but he’d long ago mastered the art of walking as quickly as he could without breaking any of the rules against haste; he was able to retrieve the pouch and return to the training field within a single ke, which he thought might have broken some sort of record. Even so, by the time he returned with the pouch, Cangse Sanren and Wen Ruohan were standing side-by-side with identical expressions of smug satisfaction that suggested that they’d accomplished whatever it was that they’d so obviously wanted him out of the way for.
Hopefully not a recruitment into the Wen sect. His brother would kill him.
“Ah, Qiren-gege!” Cangse Sanren said, and accepted the pouch. As if purposefully adding insult to injury, she tied it to her waist without even bothering to pretend to root around inside for the ribbon or whatever thing she had so ‘urgently’ needed from it. “You’re the best.”
“And you’re a pest,” he told her, but she only looked pleased with herself. He wasn’t going to get any answers out of her, and he didn’t even bother to hope for one from Wen Ruohan, who was exactly the same. He looked at him regardless: “Da-ge, are you done here? Even though they haven’t sent word, I’m sure the elders have finished preparing to receive you properly, so you can finally do whatever it is that you came to the Cloud Recesses to do.”
Get out of my way maybe, he meant, and not especially subtly, either.
“Uh, Qiren-gege,” Cangse Sanren said, grinning at him. “I’m pretty sure he’s already doing that.”
Lan Qiren refrained from rolling his eyes at her yet again – nobody would gather up their entire retinue to travel halfway across the cultivation world to see him – and turned expectantly to Wen Ruohan.
“I gave my lieutenants orders to begin negotiations without me,” he said, looking disinterested. “Your sect elders will not want me to disturb them until they have reached preliminary agreement on the main points, so as to avoid losing face for either sect in the event we can’t reach an appropriate resolution.”
Lan Qiren hadn’t thought of that. He supposed it made sense.
Irritating, irritating sense.
“We’ve already seen quite a lot of the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ruohan added. “Why don’t we take some tea in your rooms?”
Lan Qiren thought about his rooms, which were still in a terrible state, and tensed – he’d neatened up as best as he could after his tantrum in the little time he’d had to himself, but removing all the broken things had left the space bare and uninviting. He wasn’t even sure he even had a matching tea set left.
“You should go down to Caiyi Town,” Cangse Sanren announced. “It has a thriving market full of unique goods, and from what I hear you have a new bride, Sect Leader Wen. If you don’t get her something from your trip, she’ll never forgive you.”
Wen Ruohan hummed thoughtfully, and Lan Qiren seized on the excuse to nod fervently and usher Wen Ruohan towards the gates instead of his rooms.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to her taste,” he told Wen Ruohan, and for some reason remembered how the man’s long-nailed hand, capable of crushing mountains, had so delicately held the bowl Lan Qiren had painted as he had drunk his wedding toasts, as if he’d been afraid of causing the slightest damage to it. “There’s plenty there.”
“I’m sure there is,” Wen Ruohan said, and to Lan Qiren’s relief they were able to spend the next two shichen wandering slowly through the market. Wen Ruohan seemed to be particularly interested in stalls or shops selling household goods, whether vases or inkstones or paperweights, or else in paintings and other decorations; he solicited Lan Qiren’s thoughts on them all, and insisted on hearing them no matter how much Lan Qiren tried to demur.
“I really don’t know how much it’ll help you to know that I personally prefer my décor to have neutral colors with abstract designs,” he said, rubbing his forehead after one particularly extended discussion with a very enthusiastic shop manager in which they, again, did not make any purchase. “I doubt your new bride shares my excessively particular tastes.”
“What makes them excessive, rather than simply a preference?” Wen Ruohan asked, strolling over to where Lan Qiren was standing and running a finger along the blanket Lan Qiren had been absent-mindedly kneading with his hands out of lack of anything better to do. It was made of multilayer silk, airy as a cloud but trapping enough heat to allow for some warmth, and some clever designer had introduced some sort of subtle pattern to the embroidery that made it feel almost fuzzy. Lan Qiren had liked it at once, although regrettably it was the sort of expensive that was beyond the reach of even his generous allowance, especially since he’d so recently depleted it; it would have required him to rely on sect credit to obtain it.
He was technically entitled to do so, especially as one of the main branch family, but it wasn’t worth the snippy comments about Do not wallow in luxury that he’d invariably get for it. When he was younger, his brother had, in a rare moment of sympathy, told him that he’d be able to do much more and allow himself far more freedom while still avoiding such criticism if only he weren’t so insistent on talking about the rules all the time, but at that age Lan Qiren had struggled tremendously with focusing on other subjects and it had seemed easier to simply give up a few privileges. Later, of course, he’d realized that he didn’t have to give up those rights at all – the rule against luxury was intended to forestall dissipation and waste, the prioritizing of self-indulgence over duty, not occasional purchases designed to make life more comfortable – but his austere habits had remained. It was easier to pretend to have a preference towards asceticism and restraint than to admit that he was just being picky again, that he’d rather no blanket than a scratchy one or that loud colors or busy designs hurt his eyes and distracted him from his studies no matter how beautiful the art.
“I don’t suppose you remember those greens they were serving, the first time we met?” Lan Qiren asked dryly. “The ones I didn’t eat? It’s a bit like that.”
“Mm, I recall,” Wen Ruohan said, which surprised Lan Qiren: the other man’s memory must be prodigious to recall such a small event in such a long life. “You cried when you tried to force yourself.”
“It was a physical reaction,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth. How did Wen Ruohan always manage to find the most irritating take on any subject? “I gagged, that’s all. Anyway, all I meant was that I’m picky and particular, set in my ways and preferences, and what I like doesn’t necessarily transfer to other people.”
He wanted to ask Are you planning on getting something here already, but that would be crossing the line from blunt to intolerably rude, given that Wen Ruohan was his guest and his elder. Instead, he waited until it seemed like Wen Ruohan was done talking, and then edged pointedly towards the exit in the hope that the older man would get the hint.
In the end, they returned to the Cloud Recesses just in time for dinner, in which Lan Qiren was seated next to Wen Ruohan but which, per Lan sect rules, was silent, and was happily sidelined for most of the discussions that took place afterwards, which were mostly about sect affairs. The next two days Wen Ruohan spent fully ensconced in negotiations with Lan Qiren’s father and brother, and the day after that he was scheduled to leave – he had made plans to visit the Jin sect next before returning to Qishan, a route that ever so coincidentally would make it convenient for him to unofficially swing by Qinghe on his return as well – and in the end they only had time to take tea a few more times, almost always in the company of others.
Lan Qiren breathed a sigh of relief at having managed at least one successful one-on-one interaction with Wen Ruohan that hadn’t blown up in his face. He obtained belated permission for his invitation to the Cold Spring and mentioned to Wen Ruohan that he could take advantage of it during his next visit, whenever that might be – Wen Ruohan had seemed pleased by the offer – and obediently watched the visitors depart before returning, at long last, to his classes.
There were whispers, of course, but he ignored them with the ease of long practice. His sworn brotherhood was unusual, inevitably drawing attention; that would not change, just as it would not change the existence of it, and so other people would simply have to grow bored of their gossip first.
It wasn’t until later, when classes broke for the day, that he finally went back to his rooms.
His rooms, which –
Did not look like his rooms.
Lan Qiren stared.
What should have been bare walls and a cracked table and a bed with a single sheet had been transformed: there were paintings and vases, each with the subtle designs he favored, the latter filled with flowers emitting a cool and subtle scent; the incense burner had been replaced with one of delicate and intricate copperwork, a perfect match to the copper accents that adorned the new table, made of dark wood, that had replaced the one he’d broken. Even the pillows and blanket had been replaced – and he recognized that blanket, expensive and unnecessary, with clever embroidery and multiple layers of silk –
“His taste’s a bit much, I think,” Cangse Sanren said from behind him, having apparently followed him in at some point when he hadn’t noticed. “But I suppose you can’t fault him for efficiency.”
Lan Qiren turned to stare at her. “You – you knew about this?”
She grinned at him.
“You didn’t say – you didn’t tell – !” Lan Qiren looked around. “He was shopping for me?”
“All your fault,” she said cheerfully. “Apparently you were the one who started it all, giving him a gift –”
“He was getting married!”
“Some men are unreasonably competitive, Qiren-gege. Your sworn brother is one of them.”
“I – a competition – ?!”
“Possibly he also felt bad about getting you drunk and taking advantage of you,” she said. “And wanted to make up for it somehow. Just a thought.”
Lan Qiren flapped his hands in the air, unable to form words for a while – not least because he was pretty sure Wen Ruohan didn’t do emotions like felt bad, and probably maxed out at this made you have feelings which are inconvenient for me – and then finally settled on some: “What did the two of you talk about?!”
Cangse Sanren poked at the new guqin stand in the corner, dark wood and copper as well, embedded with a few dimly glowing night-pearls, and nodded to herself in satisfaction at its balance. “Blind people with no judgment or appreciation, mostly.”
“…what?!”
“I may have also mentioned that your room was looking a bit too ascetic recently…”
“Cangse Sanren!”
She laughed her peculiar laugh, the deep one that came from her belly and made everyone around her want to join in, and took to her heels as if afraid that he might chase her. Lan Qiren seriously considered it for a moment, wanting to scold her and also to extract every detail about how she had almost certainly tried to scold one of the most terrifying men currently living, but he found himself drifting over to the bed instead, putting his hands into the comfortable blanket and already imagining how well he would sleep with it tucked tightly around him.
Fine, he thought, scowling down at it with a glare that was for no one’s benefit, not even himself. Maybe next time he writes inviting me, I’ll even go.
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Text
Okay guys, so I think I’m getting attached to these characters and might have more ideas for them... so please let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more?
CW: (putting them here because tumblr decided to be weird about my tags tonight) a whole lot of angst and betrayal, stabbed whumpee (recovering from it... kinda), collar and chains, IV mention. Please tell me if I missed something
Continued from here
tagging @thelazywitchphotographer and @swift-perseides
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“You said you’d set Whumpee free if I gave you the information,” someone hisses somewhere above them.
The timbre of that voice is a familiar caress, soothing the uneasiness that threatened to take over as soon as consciousness approached. Still, there’s a sharp edge to it that propels Whumpee’s eyes to flutter open, even as it calms the fear.
“Can you prove it?” 
That’s the sound that truly awakens them. The sound they hoped never to hear again, that sends chills down their spine and makes them squint their eyes against the dim light and groggily look around.
“Can I p– you know you said it, Whumper. Stop fucking around,” Caretaker growls. “If you don’t want to let me go, then fine. Keep me here. Torture me if you will. But leave them alone.”
“Ah, to be young and in love,” Whumper sighs.
Someone towers over Whumpee, large shoulders they know better than their own stand by their bed, restraining their line of sight to the wall to their right and the one in front of their bed.
“I gave you what you wanted. Now let them go.”
Before they can think about it, before they can even truly remember where they are or why or with whom, their hand reaches out and touches the soft skin of Caretaker’s arm, making them stiffen and turn around with a furrowed brow over softening eyes.
“You’re awake.”
It’s the worry underneath the words that brings it all back. The betrayal months before, all the hurt and bitterness, and then those last hours – minutes? – with a hole in their abdomen silently draining their life away, suffocating in pain.
They pull their hand back.
“What happened?” Whumpee rasps out, only then noticing how dry their throat feels. 
They know what happened. Every second of it is etched on their mind forever, but the question still slips out, the need for reassurance bigger than anything else.
“I got you fixed,” Caretaker gives them a sad smile, “just like I promised I would.” 
“Actually, I got you fixed,” Whumper says, walking around Caretaker to stop in front of Whumpee’s bed. “You’re welcome.”
Whumpee’s eyes dart between the two of them, narrowing at the way Whumper’s gaze shines with something dark while Caretaker holds themself statue still. 
“How are you feeling, dear?” Whumper asks.
“Like I’ve been stabbed,” they grumble, frowning when Whumper chuckles. “Why am I not dead?” 
“Poor thing, you were really out of it, weren’t you?” Whumper smiles as they hold Whumpee’s ankle through the sheets and rub circles that would’ve been calming coming from anyone else. “Caretaker took the deal in the end. Almost too late, but my doctors are pretty good, so you should heal just fine. If given proper time, that is.”
“So, what now?” they ask, half wanting to just close their eyes and pretend to still be asleep. Their throat pleads for water, but they don’t want to ask either of them, so they just swallow saliva and pretend it helps.
“Well, that’s a question for Caretaker to answer,” Whumper says, turning toward the third person in the room, the one keeping disturbingly silent, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Probably regretting saving them in the first place.
But Caretaker doesn’t say anything. All they do is glare at Whumper from their spot beside Whumpee’s bed.
“What do you mean?” Whumpee asks after a few seconds, stifling a yawn, eyelids pleading to close.
“They mean that they have no word,” Caretaker snaps. “Whumper wants to make another bargain even though they never fulfilled the first one.”
“Fine. But why am I here?” Whumpee whispers, forcing their eyes to stay open long enough to hear the answer.
“Because you’re the bargaining chip, lovely,” Whumper smirks, squeezing Whumpee’s ankle until they gasp.
Whumpee’s heart drops to the floor, and then lower. 
Caretaker has saved them once, which was a miracle in itself. Expecting them to do it twice is just too much. 
“Can we discuss this later, since you don’t seem inclined to negotiate right now?” Caretaker nods toward the door. “Whumpee needs to rest.”
“I guess they will be needing their strength very soon if you don’t change your mind,” Whumper sighs, winking at Whumpee as they walk to the door. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now.”
The lock clicks behind them, but neither Caretaker nor Whumpee acknowledges it. They’re too busy staring at each other to do much else. 
Deep bags mar the skin under Caretaker’s eyes, just like it always happens when they don’t get enough sleep, and Whumpee hates themself for still remembering that.
“Why did you–“ save me, Whumpee tries to say, but their voice fails when a dry cough makes their chest heave and their wound hurt. 
Caretaker is immediately leaning close, one hand splayed on their back and the other on their tight, each touch raising goosebumps along their skin. “W-water,” they rasp, closing their eyes at the humiliation.
But Caretaker doesn’t seem to notice how defeated Whumpee’s eyes are, how their cheeks burn red for having to ask them for something so simple. They simply grab a plastic water bottle from the bedside table and hand it to Whumpee. They gulp down the entire thing.
“How are you feeling?” Caretaker asks once they sag back on the mattress.
“Like shit.”
It’s true, but the irritated tone is nothing but a defense mechanism, and they fear as much as they hope that Caretaker notices it. 
The pain is a constant weight in Whumpee’s stomach, and the medication slowly dripping into their veins through an IV makes them nauseous and sleepy, but none of it makes Whumpee any less confused or sad whenever they look at Caretaker.
Why did Caretaker save them? A blurry memory tickles their brain, of sobs that didn’t come from their lips, of trembling hands holding theirs, warm lips kissing their forehead when they couldn’t convince their eyes to stay open anymore. It dissolves before they can grasp it, leaving only an empty feeling behind.
“You should sleep,” Caretaker says when the silence grows uncomfortable.
“Are you regretting saving me already?” Whumpee whispers, averting their gaze.
“What? No.” It sounds so real they almost believe it. They want to, so badly, but they’d already made the mistake of trusting Caretaker once before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
There’s a hurt edge to their voice that makes Whumpee’s eyebrows rise as they look Caretaker straight in the eye. “Tell you what?”
“What Whumper did. That you were bleeding out.”
Oh.
“You could’ve died, Whumpee. You almost did. If you had just told me they had stabbed you, it would never have gotten to that point.”
“Why do you sound so angry? You’re the one who taught me not to trust anyone. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you but I’d do it again’, remember? You are the one who said those words. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would matter.”
Caretaker furrows their brows, opens their mouth, and turns around. Before they do, though, Whumpee catches the flash of pain and sadness crossing their eyes and pretends not to notice the glint of tears there.
The seconds tick by, and as the silence extends, pain and exertion make Whumpee’s eyes take longer and longer to open each time they blink. They are almost asleep when Caretaker’s voice sounds again.
“It’s not true, you know. It would’ve mattered. It’ll always matter when it comes to you.”
But Whumpee is already dreaming once they stop talking.
-
“So, have you made your choice?” Whumper asks from behind a ridiculously large desk. Caretaker folds their arms and doesn’t fight the will to bare their teeth. “We’ve talked through it already, Caretaker. It won’t even be any sort of bother, you just have to go in, pretend I let you free, and come back with the drive I gave you.”
“You and I both know it’s not that simple. You want me to infiltrate my own team, lie to their faces, and hand our biggest enemy a drive filled with classified information,” they bite back, hands curling into fists.
“Well, you can always say no,” Whumper leans back in their chair and grins. “You know I’ll even let you walk out if you do. And then I’ll have a pretty little pet to play with. The only downside is that dear Whumpee won’t last very long as my plaything with that wound of theirs.”
The words might as well be a blade sinking into their heart. And Whumper knows it, relishes the knowledge, laughing when Caretaker holds their breath.
It’s been three days since Whumpee’s woken up. Three days of poorly hiding the desperate need to be by their side, to make sure nothing would ever hurt them again. Three days of knowing that each small noise of pain Whumpee lets out, each hazy look they get whenever Caretaker says something kind or offers help, each distrustful glance, it’s all Caretaker’s fault.
Whumper doesn’t even bother hiding how much pleasure they take from locking Caretaker up until they can’t help but bang on the door and beg to see Whumpee. And when they do, it’s only to be hit by a new wave of pain breaking against their heart, flooding their veins with sorrow every time their eyes meet. 
“Don’t fucking touch them,” Caretaker spits out, taking a step forward before they can stop themself.
“Is that a ‘yes Whumper, I agree with your terms’ I’m hearing, dear?”
“How can I trust you won’t hurt them while I’m gone?”
Whumper’s lips tug upwards, growing into a mocking, open smile. “You can’t. And I won’t even bother promising I won’t. So if I were you, I’d hurry up, because each second you try to stall me makes me even more excited to play with little Whumpee, and I don’t think they’ll appreciate my games as much as I will.”
It’s almost funny how a handful of words is capable of completely shattering someone’s heart, of stealing the ground from under their feet and filling them with dread all at once. 
“Don’t you dare touch them,” Caretaker says, but it’s scared and quivery and both of them notice. “How the fuck do you expect me to leave with you saying you’ll hurt Whumpee?”
“Do they know how much you care about them?” Whumper muses, getting up and sauntering around the table. “Because I remember rather clearly Whumpee telling me you’d sooner offer them ruin than help.”
“What do you care?” they say through clenched teeth.
“It’s just intriguing how desperate you are to keep them safe and how oblivious they are of it. What did you do to make them so distrustful of you?”
Tore their heart apart with my bare hands. The answer comes to their mind unbidden, bringing a sharp twist of pain along with it. They can still see Whumpee’s shocked face, tears streaming down their cheeks, eyes desperately searching theirs for an excuse that wasn’t there for a treason they had no way to deny, no matter how much they wished to. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I did it for the greater good, and I’d do it again, Caretaker had said with all the pride and coldness a soldier could master. 
They had kept their own tears for later, when no one could see them shatter.
“Is your life so miserable you have to feed off of someone else’s or are you just a nosy bastard?”
Whumper laughs, and they wish they could punch that laugh out of that smug face. “I’ll give you the details now and you’ll leave tomorrow. And just because of the insult you won’t get to say goodbye to Whumpee.”
Caretaker glares in response but doesn’t argue. They don’t deserve to be near Whumpee, not after everything, and are pretty sure Whumpee wouldn’t want it either. Besides, the simple thought of seeing the face they love so fiercely fill with suspicion each time Caretaker opens their mouth makes them want to weep. 
Still, as long as they are alive to do so, Caretaker will gladly take the suspicion and anything else Whumpee throws at them. They deserve far worse anyway.
-
Each breath Whumpee takes hurts, and they are about to start crying out of frustration when the door opens. They don’t dare recognize the sharp tug of disappointment in their heart when the face that appears isn’t Caretaker’s.
“Good morning, love, how’s that wound?”, Whumper asks.
“Fine.” There’s an air of amusement around them that makes Whumpee shiver, even if they don’t know exactly why. “Where’s Caretaker?”
It leaves their lips before it hits their brain, and Whumpee has to bite their tongue to avoid slapping their forehead for it. Stupid. Caretaker shouldn’t mean anything to them anymore.
“Oh, dear. You still care about them, don’t you?”
Whumpee doesn’t even open their mouth, not when the answer they can voice would be a blatant lie and they’d both know it.
“It’s really unfortunate to have feelings for someone who doesn’t reciprocate them, isn’t it?” Whumper says, drinking in the slight frown between Whumpee’s brows, the way they look away to hide how much the words hurt them. 
Before the wave of bitterness can crash over Whumpee, Whumper nods to someone outside the room and two guards step inside. 
Their heart starts to pound, thrumming louder at each step the men take toward them.
“What, what’s going on?”
“We’re going somewhere else today, love. I assumed you needed the help to walk.”
They are shaking their head before Whumper even finishes the sentence. With a smile stretching across their face, they raise their brows, as if inviting Whumpee to do it themself.
They know what’s going to happen even before it does, and by the glee on Whumper’s face they do too, but Whumpee still kicks the thin blanket away and gets up on wobbly legs before taking two steps forward. On the third, the pain becomes unbearable. On the fourth, they can’t help but hold their injury and hunch their shoulders. Whumper watches them with mock concern as Whumpee stumbles out of the room. When they finally fall to their knees two steps later, Whumper simply tuts from their spot against the door.
“I guess you did need the help, huh?” they say, and Whumpee catches only a glance of their smile as they wave for the guards. 
Two pairs of hands grab Whumpee’s arms and pull them up, and they can’t hold back a scream when it makes their entire abdomen explode in pain. 
They are hauled over countless hallways, into a room made of concrete walls and nothing more, barely big enough for all of them.
“Please,” they breathe. “What are you doing? What about your deal with Caretaker?”
“Caretaker left, Whumpee.”
It’s the softness in their voice that makes Whumpee’s head turn to them, all wide eyes and parted lips. 
“The bargain we told you about was for them to either betray their team and keep you safe or go away and leave you behind. They made their choice.”
Whumpee can only stare at Whumper’s sympathetic smile. The words take a while to truly sink in, and when they do, all Whumpee does is take a deep breath. 
They’d been expecting this all along, they tell themself. They knew they couldn’t trust Caretaker, knew they’d never come first. They know it, they do. But then why does it hurt so much?
“And you see, Caretaker’s leaving made me kind of mad,” Whumper says as Whumpee is dumped on the cell’s cold floor, falling on all fours. “Betrayals make me bloodthirsty, I’m sure you’ll understand. And since you’re mine now, how can I resist it?”
Whumpee’s mouth dries at that. Terror shoots through their veins at the same time sadness tightens their heart.
The two men who’d carried them there take a step forward at the words and grab chains from a hook behind the door they hadn’t noticed before. As the chains are hung on metal loops attached to the wall, Whumpee realizes how wrong they’d been. The cell walls aren’t completely barren after all.
And when the guards crouch down in front of them, Whumpee can barely find strength through the panic and the pain radiating from their stomach to fight. 
They do, though. Even when it burns and sends waves of dizziness down their body, Whumpee thrashes in hands that don’t budge, jerks against grips that only tighten. 
But none of it matters when metal cuffs lock around both their wrists, nor when the chain is shortened until their arms are pulled straight above their head, back touching the wall. At least they are still sitting. Not that they could get up if they wanted to.
“Whumper, pl–“
But it isn’t over yet, they realize when another shiny gray circle approaches. Whumpee lets out a choked whine, but it’s all they can do before the collar closes around their throat and locks their neck to the wall as well. An uninvited sob escapes their lips, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it either.
“You look beautiful in chains, love,” Whumper says from the door, grinning with sadistic satisfaction at Whumpee’s weakness.
Humiliation tinges their cheeks red when Whumper’s gaze travels up and down their body. Chained, collared, like a dog, unable to do more than wiggle their arms and weakly kick their legs.
“Why are you doing this?” Whumpee asks, voice airy and desperate, searching for an explanation they know isn’t there.
“Because I wanted to. Because it brings me joy to see you struggle. I wouldn’t keep thrashing like that, though, you’ll wear yourself out very quickly with that unfortunate wound of yours, and we don’t want this to end too soon, do we?”
They leave the cell with a giggle and a wave of goodbye, and when the door doesn’t lock behind them, Whumpee almost chokes on a bitter laugh.
The cell is big enough for them to lie down straight if the chains weren’t keeping them tightly tied to the wall. But as time goes by, it seems to get smaller and smaller, closing in on them with each ragged breath Whumpee takes. The chains clink together as they squirm, but there’s no give. Their wound hurts through it all, burning with each movement, but stopping feels like giving up and if they do, then what? 
No one knows where they are but Caretaker and they’ve already made it clear they won’t help. They’ve already given up on Whumpee, left them once again.
No one cares. There is no saving this time. 
Whumpee chokes on rage and grief as tears stream down their cheeks, for a love that should never have been born, for the heart that has been broken in so many pieces they don’t know how it can still find strength enough to keep beating in their chest.
Whumpee stares at the gray walls and feels a scream building, and there’s no one there to stop it from bursting out, containing all of their anger and sadness and betrayal and spilling it over to the world. But even though it’s left their chest, the cry keeps echoing, bouncing around the walls, and none of the feelings are gone. They are all still there, still boiling inside of Whumpee.
So Whumpee sobs and pulls at the chains until their wrists are raw and bleeding, and don’t stop until both their strength and their voice are gone and there’s nothing else to do but sag on the chains. 
-
Caretaker is in the elevator when the phone Whumper’s given them buzzes. Seven floors to go before they have to face their team. A few seconds before they have to betray the people who are nothing less than their family.
Even so, it’s not that thought that sends a shiver down their spine. 
No one but Whumper has that number. The phone was given to them with specific instructions to be used solely to communicate with them. It’s Whumpee’s wide eyes that shine in their mind when Caretaker unlocks the phone, and it’s the memory of their smile that makes Caretaker’s heart race as they stare at the text and the video attached to it.
Got bored. You better hurry up.
Their hand trembles as they click on the video and Whumpee’s thin figure fills the screen, arms chained above their head, legs loose on the ground in front of them. Their eyes are closed, and for an instant, Caretaker’s heart stops in fear. But then Whumpee’s head starts to loll forward before being violently pulled back, and at the same time relief makes Caretaker suck in a sharp breath, the thing shining around Whumpee’s neck makes their heart sink through the floor. 
The collar surrounds the soft skin Caretaker’s tasted more than once, marring the perfect curve of their throat. When it yanks their head back, it hits the wall behind them and their eyes snap open. Whumpee stares at the ceiling for a moment before their mouth opens in a scream Caretaker feels in their soul, even if they can’t hear it. They feel it with their whole heart, and when Whumpee starts pulling against the chains, Caretaker thinks they’ll puke.
The video ends with them panting silently through the soundless video, the glint of tears wetting their cheeks. 
And then the elevator stops, and Caretaker barely has two seconds to wipe away their own tears before the doors open. 
When their teammates run toward them, none of them sees the way their eyes shine for the dread it is. 
As they smile and let lie after lie slip through their teeth, the only thing resounding in their mind is Whumpee’s silent screams. And as they deceive and betray, no one seems to notice the way their hands tremble or how they can’t convince their lips to smile no matter how happy they should’ve been to be back with the team. Not when the ten seconds keep playing over and over again inside their mind.
(next)
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"I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met." memory loss angst? 👉👈🥺
anon... fam, this turned into an emotional rollercoaster and totally stole my braincell.
3.8k words. angst with a happy ending. 
tw: memory loss, minor anxiety, repressed memories, idiots to lovers, whump, angst with a happy ending, angst with a fluffy ending
---
It’s been three hours, five minutes, and forty-two seconds since the frigid breeze whipped Geralt’s angry words at him, shattering his fragile, stupid heart to pieces. Every syllable rings through Jaskier’s head over and over, slamming into him from all directions and crippling him with a bone-deep pain far worse than anything he’s ever felt before. The ache ebbs and flows, lancing through him with every step. Not even Geralt’s first frustrated blow to his abdomen had been this terrible.
Geralt… That’s the problem, isn’t it? He hadn’t been smart enough to get out of the gorgeous Witcher’s long, silvery hair soon enough. He’d overstayed his welcome, fallen in love in the meantime, and is now very out of sorts (and also alone in unfamiliar territory). The bard laughs but it’s a hollow sound. Jaskier has reached the edge of hysteria, his intelligent blue eyes now vacant and unseeing. Even as he stumbles through the underbrush, all he can picture is the snarl on Geralt’s face as the Witcher yells at Destiny to take Jaskier off his hands. 
Jaskier’s own hands are covered in sap and splinters from pushing tree branches away from his face as he traverses the darkening forest. His hair is full of debris and his clothes are torn and dirty; Geralt has all of his emergency supplies, still. Jaskier is pretty sure that his lute is still strapped over his shoulder but he realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he doesn’t actually care.
He doesn’t have the capacity anymore. 
He can’t care… caring hurts too much.
If only Destiny had taken him off Geralt’s hands. Maybe then it would be okay. Maybe then, if Geralt was well and truly free of him and his irritating presence, the Witcher could be happy. He and Yennefer will surely come back around, they always seem to, and Ciri will be joining them soon enough it seems. 
There’s no need - no room - for a humble bard anymore.
Only five hours, thirty minutes, and twelve seconds after Geralt’s outburst at the top of the mountain, Jaskier’s delicate human body succumbs to the stress of the day.
He drops to the forest floor without a sound, grateful for the darkness.
---
Yennefer finds the bard in a heap a few miles away from the previous night’s elevated campsite. When she presses the back of her hand to his forehead she yanks it away almost immediately; he’s burning up, and his skin is clammy and sticky with sweat. The feathery bangs he flicks about and preens so much are stuck to his forehead and temples. He’s on the verge of shaking apart and Yennefer tosses her head imperiously, swearing.
“Damnit, Geralt. You and your incredibly foolish need to be alone all the time so you can brood and self-flagellate. Me, an ageless sorceress from one of the greatest magic schools on the Continent? I can handle a thorough tongue lashing. Fuck, I’m older than you and I’ve seen far worse but this… oh, you great lummox. You absolute bastard…” Yennefer mutters to herself as she assesses the bard’s deteriorating state of health, ranting to an invisible Geralt all the while. “You’re absolutely going to be hearing from me about this, Wolf.”
--- Three days, one hour, and fifteen minutes after Geralt dismissed him forever, Jaskier wakes up with a loud gasp and a violent shudder. He blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in through a window. Whatever he’s lying on is comfortable and the sheets smell fresh and bright, like lilac and freesia. A hint of gooseberry lies beneath it all, delicate and sweet. He glances around the space and finds it to be relatively bare; a guest room, perhaps. Maybe he’s a servant at some noble house? 
Jaskier only really knows that his name is Jaskier and that he plays music. He’s also rather talented with floral arrangements. 
Shortly after he’s finished purveying his (borrowed?) chamber, the very image of grace, beauty, and terror enters the room. The woman, whose coppery skin and enchanting violet eyes practically glow in the midafternoon sun, smiles down at him in a way that toes the line between Motherly and Shark-like. 
“How are you feeling, Jaskier?”
“I’m alright. And you?”
“Just fine. Geralt really did a number on us, huh?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. He has the feeling that something isn’t right; she shouldn’t be looking at him so kindly. 
Her expression changes from friendly to horrified to confused in an instant, as soon as Jaskier manages to ask: “Who’s Geralt? And, pardon me, but I feel as if something is rather amiss. Who are you, my Lady?”
Whoever the gorgeous and terrifying woman is, she grimaces briefly. Then, as if by magic, the comforting smile returns. “I’m Yennefer, of course. I saved your life a few years ago, remember?”
Jaskier wracks his brain but cannot call the occasion to mind. “Unfortunately no, I don’t remember your no doubt heroic deed. Although I suppose that means I’m in your debt, doesn’t it? Do I work for you? Is that why I’m here?”
The woman blinks a few times, slowly, and then nods. “You’re my gardener and personal musician.”
Jaskier brightens, happy to have found himself in a safe environment. 
“But you’ve had a nasty illness and your mind is clearly fatigued. Rest another day or two and then we can see about getting you back into the fresh air.”
“Thank you, my Lady,” Jaskier nods.
“Yen is fine.”
“Thank you, Yen. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he grins. 
---
Yennefer turns away to hide her pained expression. You’d probably still be with your beloved Witcher. 
She makes her way to the kitchen to fix Jaskier something to eat. He must be hungry after spending three days in a deep, healing sleep. She hadn’t been expecting the amnesia, though; it was an unexpected but not unsurprising turn of events. Heartbreak had done stranger things than a little bit of fever-induced memory loss. When she’d delved briefly into his mind she hadn’t seen any sign of Geralt. His face was absent from the bard’s consciousness; she would have needed to dig to unearth those memories. Whatever the Witcher had done was grievous, especially if Jaskier’s mind compensated with something as dramatic as burying Geralt completely to save itself from further harm.
No matter, she decides, the bard can stay here as long as he likes. It’s the least I can do for all the upset Geralt and I have caused him. Where is that idiot Witcher, anyway?
The sorceress quickly clears her agenda and her mind before returning to her guest room with a large tray of food, a bottle of Toussainti red under her arm. “Jaskier, darling, let’s get your convalescence started in style!”
---
2 months later
---
Jaskier watches a strange man ride up the long path to Yennefer’s manor, the hilts of his twin swords glinting in the sun where they’re slung over his shoulder. He has long white hair and the most devastating jawline the bard/gardener (or ‘bardener’ as he says to irritate his darling employer) has ever laid eyes on. He’s clad all in black, from his plain linen shirt to his tight leather trousers; Jaskier thinks he’d also look rather lovely in dark blue or perhaps forest green.
In front of him, wrapped securely against his chest by one strong arm, sits a little girl with ashen hair and frightened eyes. Haunted eyes. Jaskier’s mind fills with ballads, some familiar and some oddly dreamlike, their lyrics half-obscured and hazy. Ciri, he thinks for no reason. Her name is Ciri. And she is a Princess.
The brunette scurries from the garden alongside the house to the kitchen, searching for the familiar cloud of Yennefer’s strong perfume. “My Lady?” 
“Darling?” the sorceress replies, coming around the corner. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrows and her lips quirk up into a smirk. “Did you sprint all the way from the west lawn?”
“There’s a- strange man- on the- drive!” he huffs. “White hair- horse!”
“Oh,” her eyes go wide with surprise. Then, in a split second, they narrow to slits. “Oh.”
“Do you, uhm, know him?” Jaskier asks, twiddling his fingers. “He’s rather handsome, Yen. Is he a former lover?”
“Unfortunately,” she growls. “I can’t believe it’s taken him two fucking months to get here. He’d better have a damned good excuse.”
By now Jaskier can breathe normally again and he straightens up, shaking his long, shaggy hair from his eyes. “He had a child with him. She looked scared, Yen.”
“Cirilla!”
Yennefer dashes for the front door and Jaskier follows instinctually. They’re always together and he can’t bear to let her confront this man alone. He’s spent every waking moment with Yen since he awoke that first day and she has grown to be his dearest friend; he’ll protect her even unto death. “Yenna, what’s wrong? Who is he!?”
“Geralt of Rivia,” she snarls. The name seems familiar; maybe from a ballad or story? Perhaps Yen has mentioned him before? 
“What about Geralt of Rivia?” a low, rumbling bass asks from the front hallway. Jaskier and Yennefer arrive in the doorway together and the man, Geralt apparently, takes a shaky step back. He recoils a bit, as if he’s been slapped, and Yennefer’s smile grows cruel. His voice, still incredibly low but now with a slight tremor to it, stutters out; “Wha- Yen, what is he- Jaskier? I only came to ask for help with Ciri, I didn’t know- I didn’t-”
Geralt’s stammered speech tapers off into silence and Yennefer’s brow furrows a second time. When the sorceress sets eyes on the child, who cannot be more than twelve years old, her expression softens again. Jaskier watches the most imposing woman in the world kneel, taking one small, pale hand in both of her own. “My name is Yennever of Vengerberg, former Sorceress of Aretuza. I am honored to meet you, Princess Cirilla. Geralt has come seeking protection, no doubt, and it is easily granted. I will do everything I can to help you.”
“Thank you, Lady Yennefer. And, uhm… Ciri’s fine,” the girl replies. Her voice is high and reedy, shot through with anxiety. She’s so young, Jaskier frowns. And yet she seems to have weathered an incredible storm.
“Ciri,” the bard bows from the doorway, low and dramatic. He sweeps his arm out to the side and bends his knees as awkwardly as possible, “I am Jaskier, private troubadour and gardener extraordinaire, under the employ of the magnanimous and dangerous Lady Yennefer, here. It is my greatest honor to make your very mighty and very royal acquaintance.”
“You’re silly, Master Jaskier,” the child giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hands. Geralt’s eyes grow wide and dart between Jaskier and the girl. Yennefer makes meaningful eye contact before nodding toward the door. Jaskier looks down at Ciri again when she asks: “Do you grow lots of flowers in Lady Yennefer’s garden, or just herbs and things for magic?” 
“I grow lots of things all over the property,” the brunette man steps forward and offers Ciri his hand, gesturing towards the front door with the other. “Would you like to come and take a look? I know all the scientific names, you can even quiz me if you like.”
“I know some,” she smiles shyly, accepting the offered hand. “May I go take a look at the gardens, Geralt?”
“Go ahead,” the Witcher nods dumbly. “Jaskier will take good care of you.”
“That I will. Now, let’s take a look at the flowers and let these silly adults have a chat,” Jaskier grins. He winks at Yennefer and disappears out the door, exiled Princess in tow. 
The two lively companions have toured through all the medicinal herbs and are halfway through Yennefer’s large collection of rose variations when the two other members of the party approach. Geralt looks sheepish, his eyes downcast. Yennefer looks triumphant; she is radiant in her victory as always. 
Geralt steps forward, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Jaskier, I’ve come to apologize for what happened when we parted.”
“Excuse me?” the bard chuckles, raising an eyebrow.  "I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, exactly.”
“When I yelled at you after the dragon hunt. It was only two months ago, Jaskier, surely you remember?”
Jaskier blushes, glancing anxiously between Geralt and his friend, whose violet eyes are stormy with emotion, “I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."
Geralt gasps sharply and takes a step back, as he did in the entryway. Jaskier winces, seemingly on instinct, and shies away from the larger man. “You don’t remember me?”
“No…” Jaskier sighs. “I really don't. Should I?”
“You don’t… You don’t even remember Toss a Coin?”
“Oh, that ditty from town?” Jaskier perks up. “I know that song! It always gets stuck in my head.”
“You… You wrote that song,” Geralt’s face crumples. “About our first adventure together outside of Posada. With the elves and the sylvan...”
“I’ve never been to Posada,” Jaskier laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “They hate bards. They prefer troupes of traveling play-actors. Posada is far too serious for my tastes.”
Geralt seems to be in agony. His chest rises and falls unevenly, as if he’s on the verge of tears but unable to shed them. Can Witchers cry? 
How does he know that Geralt is a Witcher? Is it the two swords, the scars, or the strange eyes? How does he know that those are common Witcher traits?
His stomach lurches and he turns away from the group in case he needs to be sick. The ground spins and shivers in little ripples around him, unstable and impermanent beneath his feet. Yennefer is calling his name from somewhere far away and a pair of warm, strong arms are looped around his waist. Still, he can’t seem to breathe. Or focus.
There’s something missing. 
He starts to hum, trying to remember the words of that damned song.
The rest of the world fades in and out around him, finally disappearing altogether.
---
He’s gorgeous. 
Jaskier shoves another roll into his pocket. His eyes are focused on the man in the corner. He has long, snow-white hair and his shoulders are hunched forward protectively, as if he can hold the world out by sitting by himself. He’s glaring the table into submission, one fist clenched around his tankard. 
I want to write him a thousand ballads. I want to know what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning, before he brushes it out again. I want to know if he snores. I want… he stops himself. 
He makes his way across the room with eyes only for the stranger. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”
The man looks away and Jaskier notices that his irises are gold. “I’m here to drink alone.”
Gods, his fucking voice… Velvet and gravel all at once. Melitele, does Jaskier want. “Good, yeah. Good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you.”
The man, the Witcher, Jaskier realizes, rolls his eyes.
“Come on,” he wheedles, sitting down across from the gorgeous stranger. “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less.”
The man’s face stays stoic, expressionless. “They don’t exist.”
He realizes shortly thereafter that this man is not just any Witcher but the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. He could try to disengage himself from such a daunting character; he could easily make some kind of excuse and disappear back to the troubadour’s path, heading towards civilization, but it’s already too late. He doesn’t want to leave Geralt’s side ever again; he wants to write all those ballads he was thinking about earlier, when he glanced across the room. 
Jaskier has fallen head over heels in love. ---
Geralt cradles Jaskier against his chest and presses his nose deep into those chestnut brown waves. “Wake up, Jaskier. Come back to me, bard, it’s been too long.”
“Don’t you usually go all winter without seeing him?” Yennefer asks from the doorway. 
“It’s hell,” he replies easily. There’s no point in hiding his feelings from her. “I miss him every minute of every day.”
“Verbose this evening,” she remarks, taking a seat by the fire. “He’s dreaming, you know. He’s remembering you.”
“He’d forgotten?”
“He’d repressed it all,” she shrugs. “When I found him that day, feverish and nearly dead on the side of that godsforsaken mountain, he was barely coherent enough to open his eyes. He just kept asking for you, Geralt. Over and over he called for you, reaching his arms up, weak as they were. Gods, it was pitiful to watch.”
Geralt swallows. 
“I thought you were going to come back sooner. I was surprised when his memories didn’t resurface after two or three weeks. Short-term memory loss after a fever isn’t uncommon but repressing twenty years worth of feelings and experiences-” she whistles lowly “-it was impressive and tragic, all at once.”
“He forgot me?”
“Entirely.”
Geralt glances down, shame-faced. He adjusts Jaskier in his arms, holding him close and pillowing the bard’s head against his shoulder. “I deserve it, Yen.”
“He’s remembering now, though. He’ll probably be a little less than pleased to see you when he wakes up, but he knows who you are.”
“When will he wake?”
“Can’t say,” she shrugs again. “After I brought him back from the mountain it took three days for him to wake up. The first day was magically induced but after that it was just him… exhausted and heartbroken to the point of self-induced amnesia.”
“Fuck, Yen,” Geralt groaned, pressing his forehead into the soft warmth of Jaskier’s cheek. “How can I make it up to him?”
“Stay.”
“Hmm?”
“When he wakes up and he’s angry and upset, stay. Don’t stomp off or blow up or freak out,” she instructs. “If he asks you to leave, go, but otherwise… prove yourself, Geralt of Rivia. You wanted to be a knight once, didn’t you? Now’s your chance to play Prince Charming. Get down on your lovely knees and beg and apologize.”
“Hmm. How’s Ciri?”
“Fed, bathed, and put to bed. I’ll take care of her for as long as it takes you two morons to make nice again. Good luck, Geralt, I’m sure he’ll forgive you too easily for my tastes.”
She stands from her seat and leaves just as efficiently as she entered, carefully closing the door behind her. Geralt lays Jaskier back on the bed and takes a seat beside him on the mattress, kneeling just within touching distance, should Jaskier reach out for reassurance in his sleep. Geralt closes his eyes and slips easily into meditation. 
The Witcher is pulled from his trance a few hours later when Jaskier makes a startled sound and tries to sit up. Geralt opens his eyes and splays one warm, broad hand against Jaskier’s chest, forcing him back against the goose down pillows. “Stay still, Jaskier. You’re feverish and weak.”
“I’m still dreaming,” the bard grumbles, reaching to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s adorable and Geralt grins widely, warmth spilling into his chest from some newly discovered fount of happiness. “You’re being too nice to me, Witcher.”
“I’m so sorry, Jaskier, for everything.”
“What’s everything, Geralt?”
“I’m sorry for pushing you away when I was angry and confused instead of communicating with you. I’m sorry for hurting you with my brash words and foolish actions; you have always deserved so much better and I’m so afraid that I can never give that to you. I take the wrong step at every turn, it seems, and yet you stay by my side. I didn’t want to risk hurting you the way I’ve already hurt Yen and Ciri, by tying us together against your will.”
“Darling Geralt,” the bard sighs. The Witcher scoots slightly closer and Jaskier lays a gentle hand atop his thigh. “It has always been my greatest pleasure to travel the Path with you and write of our adventures. I appreciate your concern for my agency and wellbeing, dear heart, but I am quite happy spending my entire human life in your presence.”
“Hmm,” the Witcher frowns. “You’re going to die someday.”
“And? So are you. So shall Yennefer, maybe.”
“Not likely,” Geralt jokes. Jaskier grins and the sight of it is so heartwarming that the Witcher wishes he could break down into tears. At least then Jaskier could see just how deeply his feelings ran. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for blaming you for things that I brought upon myself. I love you dearly, and I hope that someday you can choose to travel with me again.”
“Excuse me?”
“I hope that you’ll-”
“No, the other bit.”
“I love you?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Oh. Yes, I-” Geralt clears his throat and looks Jaskier in the eyes, gold and blue locked together, “I love you very much, Jaskier.”
“Fuck.”
“May I kiss you, Jaskier?”
“Yes,” the bard breathes.
And then Geralt is lifting him up into his lap, one hand cradling Jaskier’s skull so so fucking carefully. Geralt’s other arm supports his waist, holding him steady. Their lips come together softly, carefully, and Jaskier’s soul spirals up to the ceiling with joy, his body abandoned. He is merely a vessel for the happiness that comes with kissing his Witcher. When they pull apart, both men are grinning like fools. “Oh, dear heart.”
“Yes, my love?”
“Never stop calling me that.”
“I swear I won’t, my love.”
From downstairs, Geralt hears Yennefer mutter, “Fucking finally.”
It takes twenty-two years, seven months, and one day, but Geralt and Jaskier manage to figure things out.
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