#god I just can Not handle bugs in my house

[squirrelthing85]

I am all for being corruptionpilled jane prentiss kin or whatever in Theory (being consumed by what loves me) but my ass? Could Not handle the bugs. Maybe I’m a poser. but I’m sorry my love. Creepy Crawlies in my House and Home? I shudder at the thought

[websitesdotcom]

OH MY GODDDDD I LOVE LIZARDS SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭 theyre so fucjing silly

[mistydeyes]

a surprise house guest

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summary: The last thing Gaz expected to see in your shared flat was a baby in your arms and a mess in the kitchen, what have you gotten yourself into?

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!roommate!reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: hehe gaz roommate babysitting fluff! sidenote i've been babysitting and ngl kids are lil cuties like ahh

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Gaz's relaxed and warm morning in his mountain of blankets was soon interrupted by the loud clanging around in your shared kitchen. He groaned as he tousled his messy hair and tried to look for his phone. "Jesus, 7 am, really Y/N?" he muttered as the bright screen of his phone lit up the room. He wondered what trouble you had gotten into while he was away.

You had been his roommate for about a year now but it felt even shorter due to him consistently being called away on duty and your busy work schedule. You were friendly, sure, and on occasion a bit flirtatious but at the end of the day, you were just another facet of his life. You were just someone to collect the mail, take care of the dust, and occasionally make sure his room wasn't crawling with bugs. You had somehow managed to accomplish such while doing it so attractively. Wait what was he saying, you were his roommate after all. Just a young professional needing a place and not caring about his infrequent stays. But on the other hand, you were his age and he always had suspected you might fancy him when you joked about sharing a one-bedroom apartment for "the benefits." His thoughts were interrupted by a loud "FUCK" and crashing emanating from the hallway. He hurriedly ripped off the sheets and ran down the hall to assess what was going on.

The last thing he expected was to see you, baby bottle in hand, and a baby on your hip. "Jesus!" you jumped as he emerged into the kitchen, "when the hell did you get home?" He relaxed, seeing that the kitchen wasn't on fire and you weren't fighting some early morning burglar. "Last night," he replied before returning to looking at the baby. He looked at it as if it was an alien, "was I really gone that long?" he asked almost afraid to hear the response. It took you a minute to process his question but you quickly covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. "Oh my god, no, no, he isn't mine," you said through laughs that made your sides hurt. "my kid sister dropped him off this morning. I agreed to help out and look after him for the day." With that, the baby cooed and tried to reach to hold your hand as you relented and looked back at Gaz. "I would have definitely cleared this with you, but I didn't expect you back so early," you sighed as you tried to calm the small bundle trying to put your fingers in his mouth. You took a brief look around the kitchen and noticed how much of a mess you had caused trying to prepare some milk, "I promise I'll clean up once I've set him down."

"No worries," he replied as he made his way into the kitchen to make some coffee, "I was gonna say you look a little too good to have just given birth." You felt your face flush and before you could reply or even give him an introduction to your nephew, the bottle of formula was knocked out of your hands. "Oh for the love of God," you swore as you realized your tank top and pajama shorts were now stained with milk. Gaz couldn't help but laugh as he looked at you in such a state, it was clear you hadn't had time to get ready for the day as he took a good look at you. "Not funny, little man," you chided the baby before you looked at Gaz with a smirk. Before he could protest, you guided the baby into his arms and ran to your bedroom to get changed.

"Bloody hell, Y/N," he yelled after you, "what am I supposed to do?" "It's a baby, Kyle, I think you can handle it," you said through your partially opened door. He heard a few more clangs as you struggled to find something not soaked in milk. He looked back down to the bundle in his arms, "What's your name, little one?" He heard you laugh as you continued to rummage around. "Kyle for fucksake he's an infant, he can't talk," you shouted, "his name is Ben if you were wondering." Ben cooed at the sound of your voice and squirmed in Gaz's arms. "It's okay buddy, she'll be back in a moment," he tried to reassure him as he rocked his arms back and forth. The baby grew more impatient and began to let out a song of high-pitched cries. You emerged from the room, now in a different pair of shorts and a shirt. Without a second look, you rushed into the kitchen and began to clean up. "Take him to the living room," you said, exasperated, as Ben continued to wail. "You owe me one," Gaz called out and you could hear him trying to appease the now crying baby. You shook your head before going about tackling the mess in the kitchen. Once you finally finished and dried your hands on the hand towel, it was quiet except for some babbles from Ben.

"What do we have here?" you said as you walked up to the pair settled on the couch. Both turned to you, smiling like a pair of twins. You had to say Gaz looked rather handsome as the light streamed in from the window in your flat. An unshaven 5 o'clock shadow complimented his face nicely. "I got it handled," he said cockily as you sat on the couch next to him. "Sure you do," you replied and mocked his tone, your legs brushing against his as sat. You soon realized that the reason Ben had stopped crying was that he was now occupied by a small sealed bag of crisps. He was shaking it around proudly and slobbering all over the plastic. You turned your head to look at Gaz with a deadpan expression. "What?" he said defensively, "he likes it!" You let out a laugh as you crumbled back onto the couch and watched as Gaz held the baby on his lap. You couldn't deny, that once he got Ben to stop crying, he was a natural at this. You secretly envied the future, Mrs. Garrick. However, with Gaz's protective arm around the baby and you smiling right next to him, you looked like the perfect couple with a newborn. The moment quickly passed as you looked down at your hand. "Oh I have his bottle," you said and motioned for Gaz to pass you the baby. "Come here, love," you cooed and slowly rocked him in your arms. You set your feet on top of Gaz's lap and sang a soft little lullaby to calm the infant.

After watching the baby drink the formula at record speed, he was finally asleep in your arms. "Finally," you groaned as you watched his little eyelids flutter. You leaned back in the crook of the couch, making sure he was fast asleep before you looked back at Gaz. He had a sense of wonder and awe in his eyes as he looked up at you. You slowly moved Ben into the small lounger cushion your sister had brought and stretched out of exhaustion. "Thanks again," you whispered as you motioned for Gaz to follow you back to the kitchen, "I really appreciate it." He nodded in response and leaned against the counter, closing his eyes in a moment of peace. You stood next to him and placed your head against his arm. You could feel him slightly react to your action but soon relax as he looked down at you. To both of you, it felt oddly comfortable to be like this. "Welcome home, by the way," you said, finally acknowledging his return "Sorry about this whole mess." He smiled as you met eyes and then let out a low chuckle. "It's alright, I got caught up in watching you play Mummy today," he joked, slightly tussling your hair with his free hand. You blushed briefly at the compliment but you soon found yourself wrestling his arm to stop. You ended up placing it securely around your shoulders and held it in place to prevent any further assault.

"I'm serious," Gaz defended as he relaxed his confined arm, "you look like a natural with him. You looked up at him and decided to test the waters, just a tiny bit. "Oh really now?" you challenged, "something about this situation gives you baby fever?" Now Gaz was the one with a subtle blush on his cheeks as you smirked at his reaction. "Let's go on a date then, love, and find out," he blurted, seemingly without any hesitation. You tensed a bit as you processed what he was saying. "You asking me out now, Garrick?" you questioned, turning your body to look at him. "Maybe I am," he whispered, moving a piece of hair out of your face and moving his hand to cup your face. As time moved slowly, you stood on your tippy toes and moved closer to his lips. Just as the space was about to close, a shrieking cry filled the apartment. "I think he wants Daddy," you teased as you tried to hide your disappointment, "we'll talk about this after dinner?" As Kyle huffed away, you couldn't help but secretly thank your sister for the emergency nanny service.

[reidintoit]

cruel summer - j.m.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: thigh riding supremacy

warnings: smut, language

an: more than happy to provide a part two :’))

wc: 1.4k

You were desperate. Completely and utterly desperate. And that was putting it lightly.

For the past hour or so, you had been sitting around the bonfire with the rest of the group on your boyfriend’s lap. While this usually isn’t a problem, tonight, JJ wouldn’t stop moving. 

Each time his leg bounced up and down, you felt the stitching of your jean shorts brush against your core. At one point, you did your best to readjust but were immediately sliding back down as his leg continued to bounce relentlessly.

At first, you tried not to pay much attention to it, believing it was just JJ being restless. Which was probably true, but it quickly turned into something more. 

-

“Ow!” Sarah exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and smacking her leg. “Fuckin’ mosquitos, I’m going inside!” 

You hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation going on around you or the fact that it had gotten significantly darker out. 

“I second that. These fuckers suck.” Kiara agreed, getting up to follow Sarah’s lead back into the house. 

You glanced down at your legs, examining for any possible bites. You weren’t itchy, but even if you were, you weren’t confident that you’d have noticed. In fact, you had no clue what anyone had been talking about for the past hour.

“You guys coming?” John B asked, breaking the silence while throwing the last piece of firewood into the pit. 

You looked back at JJ, who shook his head in response to John B without breaking eye contact with you. 

As John B walked away, you started to get hot. Maybe it was the fire burning a bit higher or the fact JJ hadn’t stopped looking at you. Either way, you needed to get the hell out of dodge. 

“I should.. probably go inside too. Bugs, yeah?” You struggled to form a proper sentence as you stood up.  

“Y/N, wait.” JJ demanded, reaching out to grab your wrist, “Sit on me.”

“JJ, I have been sitting on you for the past-”

“No, I mean, take off your shorts and sit on me.. please?” He repeats himself.

You look down at JJ, who seemed to be completely serious about wanting this. 

“J.. what about the others? They’re right inside.” You pleaded. 

JJ glanced over at the Chateau, hearing nothing but Lizzo blasting from the speakers, then back at you. “I don’t believe they will hear a thing, darlin.” 

You bite your lower lip, taking one last glance around before slowly unbuttoning your shorts. You allow them to fall onto the ground, stepping out and slipping your fingers on the sides of your bathing suit bottoms.

It’s obvious JJ noticed how ruined your bottoms are after rubbing against him for the past hour. The once pastel pink bottoms have a very prominent dark spot.

Suddenly, you feel your boyfriend’s fingers grazing the dark spot between your legs, getting a feel for just how wet you’ve been. “God damn..who’s got you like this?”

Instead of answering, you place your hands on JJ’s shoulders, sitting down on his thigh, and damn near gasping at the sudden contact. 

JJ wastes no time slipping his fingers under your bottoms and pulling them to the side. “You’re soaked, baby,” he whispered, pushing his leg up into your bare pussy without warning and hearing a sharp moan escape your lips. 

“You’re gonna ride my thigh until you cum, think you can handle that?” All you could do was nod in response at this point, feeling his hands fall to your sides. 

“Words Y/N.” he demands.

“Yes, yes. Please.”

That was all JJ needed before gripping your sides and pulling your hips forward, encouraging you to move. You needed no further guidance, finding a pace that you knew was going to get you off quickly. 

“JJ..” you whined softly.

He looked so incredibly hot like this. Watching you unravel on top of him had him painfully hard. He didn’t care about himself at this moment, just wanting to witness you use him. 

“Such a slut, hm? Riding me out here..” he praised.

You whimpered in response, his words sending a flutter into your chest. The knot in your stomach tightened. You could feel your boyfriend’s intense stare as you fucked yourself on his thigh. You couldn’t focus on anything but how you felt. How slutty you felt at this moment. Sitting in your boyfriend's yard in your bathing suit top, grinding against his leg.

You rolled your hips against him, whining at the feeling of your clit against his thigh. Your pussy getting wetter and wetter with each roll of your hips. Your grip on JJ’s shirt tightened as you rocked against him, panting and incoherently mumbling. 

You didn’t notice as he tore his eyes away from your face and down at his thigh. It was glistening from your arousal. 

Your pace increased as you got closer, using your free hand to grip JJ’s arm. 

“J - I - Please..” you whimpered, struggling to remain coherent as your hips grinded into him. 

“Doing so well. Come for me, Y/N.”

You shake your head, “I- fuck, baby, baby,” not being able to finish that thought before waves of heat rush over you. 

You practically collapse, burying your face into JJ’s shoulder as you ride out your orgasm. There was less friction as your cum coated his thigh, making each roll of your hips messier and slippery. 

“JJ, JJ, mmph-“ You cry out as his leg suddenly bounces up into your clit. 

“What baby? What’s wrong?” JJ asks, grinning from ear to ear. He’s incredibly proud of making you fall apart without touching you. 

“Again… please?”

JJ leans back into his chair, hands making their way back to your thighs, gripping into your skin. You felt your face get hot as he continued to admire you. 

“You want to get yourself off on me again?” You nod in response, leaning toward pressing your lips against his. A desperate attempt to get what you want. “Once more. Then you can fuck me.”

JJ looks past you, noticing no change in the volume of music from earlier. Whatever fun the pogues we’re having inside didn’t come close to this. 

JJ’s grip on your thighs slowly moves up to your hips, “60 seconds,” he says as he leans forward to kiss you, “Go.” 

You waste no time going back to the pace from before, failing to break the kiss. Your cum on his thigh was the perfect substitute for lube. 

You feel JJ kiss you, taking in your bottom lip and gently biting as you whine into his mouth. Your eyes remain sewn shut as your head is up in the clouds. You weren’t going to last long again.

“15..” he reminded you. 

It took one last roll as JJ jumped his leg into you for you to cum. Your head rolled back as you came, crying out without a worry of getting caught out here. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! JJ, fuck me.”

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: tanjiro as a boyfriend

characters: fem!reader x tanjiro

warnings: language, nsfw themes (no real smut)

AN: tanjiro is aged up!! we don’t date children in this house sry.

TANJIRO

um best bf ever

he’s an angel sent from heaven

cuddle bug fr

you are NOT getting out of bed before he’s ready

you gotta pee??

u gotta beg him to let u get up

like? uh my guy we’re finna be cuddling in a puddle if u don’t remove ur arm and let me SPRINT to the bathroom asap

mans just wants to hold you a little while longer

introduces you to inosuke and zenitsu ofc

wants you to get along with his friends SO bad

but

he knows they can be a lil overwhelming

so he will attempt

i said attempt

to make them behave themselves

they will not behave themselves

inosuke is tryna throw hands

zenitsu is alrdy asking for ur hand in marriage

and oh?

tanjiro baby is ur eye twitching?

and u got a vein popping outta ur forehead honey are u okay?

dude doesn’t get mad often

and he’s not mad at u

but zenitsu better back off rn

cause tanjiro

well he’s gonna make sure zenitsu gets it through his head that you are NOT marrying him

not violently!!

well he might stick inosuke on him

“inosuke! zenitsu said he’s stronger than you!”

que the one sided smackdown

anyways

he introduces you to nezuko wayyyyy later

she’s his baby sister who also happens to be a demon

which is pretty startling if u ask me

like “this is my baby sister nezuko!”

“she’s a demon with crazy blood fire powers! :)”

very important to him that y’all get along

which you do

cause how could u not

nezuko is the sweetest thing

god the kamado family could rot ur teeth

NICKNAMESSSSS:

there’s a million of them

my love, darling, sweetheart, honey, flower, bUNNY

ik that the bunny nickname is so over used but something abt it gets me GOINGGG

rarely calls u by ur real name unless something serious is happening

always a pet name

dude knows how to handle u and ur emotions

that sniffer he has

yeah

ur happy? sad? angry?

he smells it

personally i think that jealousy coming from u is his favorite scent

it’s got it’s own distinct smell but it’s mixed with a little bit of anger too

when he first smelled it he couldn’t figure out wtf u were feeling

but when he finally put it together

turned bright red

like “she cares about me THAT much”

“to where she gets angry?”

surprised that u get jealous over him for some reason

which is wierd asf cause if tanjiro was my bf? i’m never letting him outta my SIGHT

hands will be thrown w any bitch that tries to speak to him

anywayyyyyssss

into the NASTY DIRTY

remember he’s aged up!!

the softest service dom that has ever dommed

he’s the guy that gets pleasure from giving u pleasure

and when i mean giving u pleasure

i mean ur gonna be in tears by the end of it

it’s too much for you?

“oh honey i know you can take it”

“sweet girl you can give me one more i know you can”

one more is not one more

one more is as many as tanjiro wants.

overstimulation is the tanji’s fav

and back to that nose of his

LMFAO there is no hiding it when ur in the mood

mans can smell it from a mile away

but don’t worry he’s gonna take care of u ;)

aftercare omg

he’s so sweet

running u a BUBBLE BATH

lighting candles

massages

watch out cause those massages can get u back in the same situation that put u here in the first place

uh oh here comes the cuddle monster once again

ugh i want a tanjiro so bad

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 3: Hermes, God Of Thieves]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tagging: @arcielee @huramuna @glasscandlegrenades @gemmagirlss1 @humanpurposes @mariahossain @marvelescvpe @darkenchantress @aemondssapphirebussy @haslysl @bearwithegg @beautifulsweetschaos @travelingmypassion @althea-tavalas @chucklefak @serving-targaryen-realness @chaoticallywriting @moonfllowerr @rafeism @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @herfantasyworldd @mangosmootji @sunnysideaeggs

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

They say it’s the most dangerous job in Vietnam. That’s why I wanted to do it.

Chinooks transport men and equipment, Cobras are gunships, Jolly Green Giants are used in search-and-rescue missions. But the Loach—Light Observation Helicopter—is a scout. We have to fly low enough to spot fresh footprints in mud, glints of sunlit metal, blooms of firelight from smoldering cigarettes in the primordial maze of the jungle. And when you go looking for the enemy, sometimes that’s exactly who you find. U.S. Army regulations decree that each Loach must be inspected after 300 hours of flight time, but they rarely make it that long. I’ve been shot down twice already. You roll out of the wreckage, grab your buddies, and book it out of the area before the Vietcong kill you, or worse: drag you back to the Hanoi Hilton so you can die slow.

Currently we’re just north of Pleiku, coasting close enough to the treetops that I could reach out and touch them. I’m in the back seat with my M16, no door between me and the outside world, my hair tied back with a green bandana, the wind hot and sticky. It’s so fucking humid here. Why can’t the communists be trying to take over Malta or Sweden or Monterey Bay, California?

It was the old men who suggested I might be of greatest service to the family by enlisting. I was 25, newly graduated from Columbia Law—a family tradition—and dreading the desk job that awaited me at the Department of Justice. Some people are born to type their lives away in some leather-upholstered office with a view of Pennsylvania Avenue, but not me, and I know this like I know the sun or the stars, ancient truths that can never be changed. And so when Otto and Viserys sat me down—my father had only had one stroke by that point, and was still relatively involved in the day-to-day minutia of putting a Targaryen in the White House—and said Aemond having a brother in Vietnam would make him more relatable, more sympathetic, more noble, not an observer to the carnage of the war but a fellow victim of it…I told them I’d go.

Everyone needs a project. If you don’t have something to distract you from the futility of human existence, it’ll break you in half. I have the Loach. Otto and Viserys, both immigrants ineligible to serve as president of the United States, have their shared ambition of getting their bloodlines in the Oval Office. Aemond has his legacy. My mother has her children, and Criston has my mother. Helaena has her gardens, her bugs, quiet gentle things that she tends with her own thorn-pricked hands. Aegon doesn’t have a project, he never really has, and it’s driven him to the cliff’s edge of insanity. See what I mean?

Anyway, let me tell you something about Vietnam. The Army gives us all the steak, beer, and cigarettes we can handle, but I’d kill for a lemon-lime Mr. Misty—

“Daeron, get down!” the guy to my left screams over the noise of the rotors. His name is Richie Swindell, and he’s from Omaha, Nebraska, and now he’s plummeting out of the helicopter as bullets riddle his chest. I duck low and cover my head as we spiral sideways into the trees, snapping branches, shredding leaves like confetti. I can hear the pilot yelling something, but I can’t tell what. When we hit the earth, the lightweight aluminum skin of the Loach does exactly what it’s supposed to, crumpling to absorb the shock of the collision and reduce trauma to us mortals inside. I scramble out of the rubble on my hands and knees and go to check on the pilot, but it’s too late. He’s already being hauled out by the Vietcong and gets a bullet to the brain. I reach back into the ruins of the Loach to grab my M16, but there are hands around my ankles yanking me out. And now I’m next, and there’s nowhere left to run, and I’m hoping Criston will be there to hold my mother when she gets the Western Union telegram.

One of the soldiers shouts and stops the others, shoving them aside to get a better look at me. With the barrel of his AK-47, supplied by either China or the Russians, he prods at the patch displaying my last name: Targaryen. His compatriots don’t seem impressed. Again, he batters my nametag, speaking to them in Vietnamese.

He knows who I am, I realize. He knows Aemond is running for president.

Now there is a hell of a lot of excitement. The men are talking rapidly amongst themselves, marveling at me, poking and examining me. Then two of them grab me by the arms. I look to the soldier who knows English, at least enough of it to read those nine fated letters. He smiles at me, not like a friend. Like a wolf baring its teeth.

He says: “It is okay, Targaryen boy. We just have some questions for you.”

Guess I’ll be checking into the Hanoi Hilton after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to Aegon strumming an acoustic guitar and singing Johnny Cash. The guitar must be new. The one he left at Asteria is plain maple wood and covered in stickers; this unfamiliar instrument is a vivid, Caribbean blue and has Gibson written across the headstock.

“I hear the train a-comin’, it’s rolling ‘round the bend

And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when

I’m stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin’ on…”

“Let me die. I’m ready to go.”

Aegon laughs, setting his new guitar aside.

“Is Ari okay?”

“Yeah, he’s doing great. And I got the stuff you asked for.”

Sure enough, there are three roomy sundresses hanging from the coatrack—you wanted to have options in case you had trouble finding one that fit correctly, though you gave Aegon a general neighborhood for sizes—as well as an array of cosmetics on the nightstand, including a bottle of shimmering champagne-colored nail polish. “I’m really impressed. You barely forgot anything. Though I will look odd with blush but no foundation.”

“Ohhhhh. Fuck.”

“And this isn’t human shampoo. It’s for dogs. That’s why it has a mastiff on the label.”

“I thought it looked like you,” Aegon says, smirking mischievously.

“Well, thanks for trying.”

“And I found this at the gift shop.” He tosses a card at you like a frisbee. You open the envelope to see a cartoon cow on the front, black and white and wearing a huge copper bell and a party hat. Inside is printed: May your graduation be legenDAIRY! Aegon has crossed it out and written instead I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf! followed by his illegible scribble of a signature.

“A cow,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “Because I’m Io.”

“You’ve got about a million of those pouring in from all over the country. Congratulations cards, get well soon cards, we really hope your husband gets elected so we aren’t consumed by nuclear Armageddon cards. And then Richard Nixon sent a pipe bomb.”

You set Aegon’s card on your nightstand, half-open so it will stay standing upright. Then you drink the apple juice from the tray the nurses left for you. “Aemond’s not here yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” Aegon says vaguely, kicking his feet up on the ottoman. He’s been shopping for himself too. He’s wearing a denim jacket over a black The Kinks t-shirt, ripped jeans, moccasins. He uses the remote to turn on the television: The Dating Game. “So, what did you study in college? You went to Manhattanville, right?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you?”

“I try not to.”

“Yes, I went to Manhattanville. And I studied math.”

“No way. You didn’t major in math.”

“Women can’t do math?” you tease. “That’s sexist.”

“I didn’t say women can’t do math. I’m saying there’s no way your parents sent you to a housewife factory like Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart to get a math degree.”

“They didn’t, which is why my bachelor’s is in math education. So half-math, half-kid stuff. Makes it a little more…domestic.”

“Cool. Teach me math.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah. Really.” He digs around in the pockets of his jeans until he finds a receipt, then locates a pen in the nightstand drawer. He hands both to you and then stands so he can watch over your shoulder as you work. You can smell him: cigarette smoke, rum, the cool grey rain that is falling outside. It drips off his hair, carelessly slicked back from his face.

“What’s something you don’t know how to do?” you ask, expecting to get an answer like exponents or calculating the volume of a pyramid.

“Uh. Long division.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Going all the way back to 4th grade. Alright then.” You begin writing. “So let’s take a large number—this year, 1968—and divide it by…hm…how many kids you have. So five.”

Aegon whistles. “Five kids. Goddamn.”

“Yes, and you probably couldn’t name them, but there are indeed five. Trust me, I’ve counted.”

“Okay, this is the part I don’t get. Five goes into 19 almost four times. But there’s no way to say almost four.”

“There certainly is not. Five goes into 19 three times, so we put a three up top and then subtract 15 from 19. We get four, drop down the six from 1968, and now we’re dividing 46 by five.”

“Nine.”

“Right. Five times nine is 45. So the nine goes up top and we subtract 45 from 46.”

“45 is basically 46. Let’s call it a day. Close enough.”

“No,” you insist. “We get one, then drop down the eight from 1968, which makes 18.”

“And five goes into 18 three times.”

“Where’s the three go?”

“Up top,” Aegon says, observing fixedly.

“And then we subtract…”

“15 from 18, which is three. So the answer is 393.3.”

“Wrong. Loser.”

“What! How am I wrong?!”

“You don’t just put the three after the decimal,” you say. “You drop down a zero—”

“A zero?! Where the fuck did a zero come from?”

“From the fact that 1968 is a whole number, so it’s actually 1968.0.”

“Oh.” Aegon blinks a few times. “Gotcha.”

“Add the zero after the three to get 30—”

“And 30 divided by five is six. So the answer is 393.6.”

“I am so proud. You are officially as smart as an average nine-year-old.”

He takes the receipt from you and studies it. “This was super enlightening.”

“You want to try calculus now?”

He cackles and sinks back into his plush salmon pink armchair, his miniature dominion in your hospital room kingdom. “You like teaching?”

“I love it,” you admit. “I had to do a semester of student teaching the spring before I graduated, and at first I was kind of petrified. But the kids are so hilarious and interesting and full of excitement about everything, and they’re sweet in totally unexpected ways. They’d chatter all through a lesson and make me want to jump out a five-story window, and then bring me some of their Easter candy. That’s when I realized they weren’t trying to torture me. They’re just kids.”

Aegon is meditative. “Yeah, kids are fun.”

“I wasn’t aware you had much interest in them.”

“No, I do.” And something about the way he says it makes you feel bad for taking the shot. He runs his fingers through his hair, perhaps debating how much he wants to share. “You know Viserys made us all do these little missions after college so we could learn about the real world, right?”

“Right.” Daeron spent his on lobster boats up in Maine, Helaena learned horticulture in France, Aemond helped register voters in Mississippi and Alabama. You can’t recall ever hearing about Aegon’s.

“I got sent to Yuma, Arizona to teach on the reservation there. When I stepped off the bus, I thought it was hell on earth. And then when my time was up I didn’t want to leave.”

“What did you teach?” And then you add: “Hopefully not math.”

“No, definitely not math,” he says, smiling but distant, remembering. “English. Books, poems, all that. But my favorite thing to do was take a song and break it down line by line, really get them curious about what the author was thinking. And then of course we’d all sing it together. I’d play guitar, they’d run around jumping on the furniture, it was a good time.”

“But you couldn’t stay.”

“No,” he sighs. “I had to come back here so I could get dragged kicking and screaming through law school and then married off.”

“And elected mayor of Trenton,” you say, trying to make him laugh. It works.

“Oh God, we are not talking about that. Most miserable two years of my life.”

“So far.”

“Yeah. If Aemond wins and makes me the attorney general, that might be worse.”

“Knock knock!” comes a cheerful trill from the doorway, and then Alicent and Mimi rush in. They descend upon your hospital bed, cooing and soothing, squeezing your hands and trying to smooth your untamed hair.

“What did it feel like?” Mimi is morbidly fascinated, swaying a little, eyes bleary with gin. “When they were digging around in there?”

“Well, obviously she was sedated, hon,” Aegon says, a bit impatiently. He and Mimi share a nod in greeting, no warmth, no depth. You wonder what it must be like for someone you spent so much time tangled up with to become a stranger.

“Oh, darling, I barely recognize you!” Alicent says. “You poor thing, you must be in such awful pain. I’ve never seen you like this before. Your face, your hair…”

Aegon gives her a quick, disapproving look and then lights a cigarette of the traditional variety. He puffs on it as he gazes at the window, like he’s counting the raindrops on the glass.

“I’m feeling a lot better now,” you assure Alicent.

Her eyes flick down to your belly, still swollen beneath your blankets. “Will it scar terribly, do you think?”

You shrug; you haven’t thought much about that part yet. “It’s a battle scar. Aemond gets them in the real world, I get them in here. Same war, different arenas.” You peek out into the hallway. “Is Aemond…is he with you…?”

“He wanted to be,” Alicent says, like it’s a consolation. “But, Washington, you know…the primary there is so close. So, so close. He kept saying that he and Humphrey were neck and neck, and they still are, I believe. Every vote counts, and he’s campaigning all over the Puget Sound.”

“He’s still in Washington?” Your voice is flat with disbelief, with disapproval.

“He wishes he could be here with you and the baby,” Alicent insists, stroking your hair. “I’m sure he’ll fly back as soon as he’s able. But he’s thinking of you so, so much. That’s why he let me and Mimi leave this morning.”

“Right,” you reply numbly. And then you remember what you’re supposed to say. “The election is important. It affects everyone, our son included. For the greater good, personal sacrifices are necessary.”

“We saw him,” Alicent tells you, radiant with joy. “Aristos Apollo.”

“So precious,” Mimi says. “But so small! And trapped in that hideous machine! We could only see him through those little round windows.”

Aegon casts her a violent glare. You are alarmed. “He’s not in an incubator?”

“They have him in a…what was it called, Mimi?” Alicent asks. Mimi has nothing useful to contribute. “A hyperbaric chamber, I think. To help him get more oxygen.”

“But he’s fine,” Aegon says firmly, giving his wife and mother a warning. “Didn’t the doctor say it was a precaution?”

“He did, he did,” Alicent promises you. “Yes, just a precaution, that’s what we were told. The doctor has been trying to reach Aemond, apparently, but since he landed in Washington, he’s never in one place for long…”

“We should buy gifts for the baby,” Mimi says excitedly. “Adorable hats and shirts and trousers. Although even the tiniest clothes might be too big for him right now.”

“Yes, gifts! We must shop for gifts. Oh, it’s all been such a whirlwind. We hurried off the plane to come straight here, love,” Alicent tells you. “Can Mimi and I get you something for dinner?”

“Sure, sure.” You are distracted, still thinking of Ari. “Anything is fine. Wherever you end up.”

“Would you like me to bring a priest to pray with you? Saint Nicholas Church is right around the corner.”

You smile. “That’s very kind, but I think I’d prefer some books.”

“Baby clothes, dinner, and books. We can do that. Can’t we, Mimi?”

“We absolutely can,” Mimi agrees with tipsy, girlish enthusiasm.

As an afterthought, Alicent says: “Aegon, have you been here all this time? You must be exhausted. We’re going to book a suite at the Plaza, there will be plenty of room for you too. We can drop you off there on our way to go shopping, if you’d like.”

“I’ll stay,” he says softly, watching the rain again.

Alicent’s brow furrows; her dark doe-like eyes are puzzled. “Alright, dear.” Then she and Mimi disappear into the hall.

“Is he really okay?” you ask Aegon when they’re gone.

“Yes. That’s exactly what the doctor told me, just a precaution. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Aegon,” you say, and don’t continue until he meets your eyes. “Why are you still here?”

He lights a fresh cigarette. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

“I’m not alone anymore. Alicent visits me, Mimi visits me.”

“Yeah, but you feel like you have to put on a show for them. Play the perfect Targaryen wife with all that stoic, dignified, unshakable faith. You hate me, so there isn’t as much pressure.”

“I don’t hate you, Aegon.”

“Yes you do. You always have. You don’t have to be polite about it.”

“Well…I have valid reasons to hate you.”

He smiles, exhaling smoke. “Right.”

“And you hate me too.”

Now he shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “Everybody worships you, everybody thinks I’m a waste of chromosomes, is it really that hard to psychoanalyze?”

“No one worships me. They worship Aemond.”

“But you’re a package deal. Jack and Jackie, Franklin and Eleanor.”

You trace the lines in your palm with a fingertip, not knowing what to say. You’re so close to Aemond, so inseparable, and yet so vastly far. “Will you wheel me downstairs to see Ari after dinner?” It’s best to go at night when there are less staff around to try to stop you.

“Sure. You want a Mr. Misty?”

“Yeah. Lemon-lime.” That’s what he brought you last time, and it wasn’t bad for a cardboard cup of florescent green sugar water.

“Got it,” Aegon says, and leaves you alone.

You look at the phone on your nightstand. You’ve tried to call Aemond to no avail, though you spoke to Criston twice; on both occasions he said Aemond was in the middle of an interview. It’s understandable that you would have difficulty getting ahold of your husband while he’s off campaigning, leaping from town to town like an electric current. There’s nothing unusual about it at all. But Aemond could call you anytime he likes. You haven’t moved; he knows exactly where you are.

You keep staring at the phone. It doesn’t ring.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s night again, and you swim up from morphine-soft dreams into your hospital room, dark except for the flashing color of the television, low volume, NBC news. Aegon is curled up in the chair he’s claimed, snoring and half-covered with a cheap, pale blue hospital blanket. And it’s a strange feeling—a foreign language, a new religion—to realize that you’re relieved to see he’s still here, that there’s a comfort in it, a safety.

Suddenly, Aemond is on the television screen. You sit up in bed as gingerly as you can, leaning in, listening close. He’s rarely looked better: blue suit, prosthetic eye, rested and measured and sharp. He’s giving a speech at the Hotel Sorrento in Seattle, three hours behind the time you’re living in on the East Coast. Flanking him on the stage are Criston, Otto, Helaena, Fosco, the eight charming children. Five-year-old Cosmo keeps waving at the camera.

“Right now, my wife and newborn son are at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City,” Aemond says, beaming, and the audience whistles and cheers. You should smile, but you can’t. He’s not supposed to be there. He’s supposed to be on his way home. “But tonight I’m here with all of you, fighting with everything I’m made of to win the great state of Washington. And I won’t leave until the job is done, because I know the greatest act of devotion that any of us can show our children is to ensure they grow up in a better America than the one we find ourselves in today…”

You look over at Aegon and see that his glassy eyes are open, watching the television just like you are. You don’t know how long he’s been awake. The two of you exchange a glance, and there is a silent, shared recognition of what won’t be said. You can’t criticize your husband. Aegon isn’t going to kick you while you’re down. You are grateful for this. It is a conviction he has only recently acquired.

Aegon pulls his blanket up to his chin and rolls over, turning away from you. You close your eyes and dream of being a child back in Tarpon Springs, mesmerized as you watch Greek sponge divers emerge from the bubbling depths in their suits of rubber armor.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the afternoon of the 13th. The Washington State Democratic Convention is being held tonight, and so win or lose Aemond will be walking into Mount Sinai Hospital tomorrow. He has to, he doesn’t have a choice. He’ll have no excuse to be anywhere else, and journalists will be swarming at the entranceway like bull sharks in the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s raining again. You’re reading one of the books that Alicent brought you, Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care. You had been meaning to get a copy before you were consumed by Aemond’s campaign and then his near-assassination, his maiming, his fleeting brush with oblivion. Aegon is cross-legged in the salmon pink armchair and plucking lazily at his guitar, singing so low no one outside the room would be able to hear him. It’s a Rolling Stones song, slow and mournful.

“You don’t know what’s going on

You’ve been away for far too long

You can’t come back and think you are still mine.”

As you flip a page and raindrops patter gently against the window, you find yourself thinking how easy this is, your hair undone and your feet bare, no photos to take or lines to remember, no practiced smiles, no overwrought itineraries, only compassion that is quiet and small and real.

“Well, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time

I said, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time…”

Aegon abruptly stops playing, cutting off with a twang. You look up at him. He’s gazing back with eyes that are filling up his face, glistening with horror. You turn to find out what he’s seen. There’s a doctor standing in the doorway, but he’s not alone. There’s a Greek Orthodox priest with him.

“Mrs. Targaryen,” the doctor begins, then glances to the priest. The holy man—black robes, gold chains, clasping a komboskini like the one Aemond keeps in a box on his writing desk at Asteria, stained with his own blood—gives an encouraging nod. “We’ve tried to reach your husband. We’ve called his hotel in Tacoma several times, but the senator must be out campaigning, and…” Again, he looks to the priest. Aegon is setting his guitar on the floor, covering his mouth with his hands.

Ari. Too early, too fragile, too defenseless in a world full of wolves.

Your words come out in a whisper. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“We must remember, child,” the priest tells you, vague patronizing pity. “That the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, but what is lost to us in this life is never truly gone. Those we love wait for us on the other side in paradise—”

“Please leave. I don’t want to talk to a priest. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

I just gave birth to him. I just started to believe he was mine.

The doctor begins: “Ma’am, I’m so sorry to have to deliver this news—”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone, I want to be alone. So please leave,” you beg, your voice breaking. “I want to be alone. Please leave me alone.”

The doctor looks to Aegon. A man’s permission is sought. “Go,” Aegon manages, raspy and strangled, and the doctor obeys.

“God bless you and your husband, Mrs. Targaryen,” the priest says as he departs with a swift bow. You can’t reply. You’re biting back sobs as the tears begin to slither down your cheeks, scalding and furious, not just grief but the bottomless rage of Nemesis.

Aegon is watching you, not knowing what to do, not knowing what you need.

Aemond would want you to be stoic. Aemond would want you to have faith, forbearance, grace. “It is God’s will.”

“Hey.” Aegon reaches across the space between you, grabs your hand, holds it so tightly your bones ache. Still, you wouldn’t want him to let go. “You’re allowed to be fucked up about this. I am too.”

When your eyes drift to him, they are glaring and heartsick and poisonous. “Where’s Aemond?” Why isn’t he here?

Aegon sighs deeply and picks up the phone with his free hand. He spins the rotary dial with his index finger and then holds the handset to his ear. He waits as it rings. “Pantages Theater, Tacoma, Washington,” he tells the operator. A minute or more crawls by. “I need to speak to Senator Targaryen immediately. Yes, I know there’s a convention underway there, that’s why I’m calling you. Go get him.” More minutes, eternal, terrible beyond description. “What do you mean you can’t find him?!” Aegon snaps. “Okay, give me someone else. Anyone travelling with him. Criston Cole, Fosco Viviani, Otto Hightower, Helaena Targaryen. Hurry up. Let’s go.”

Outside the rain grows heavy and loud; it falls in sheets against the misty windows. In the distance, thunder growls.

“Hi, Criston, it’s me. He needs to come home now. Right now.”

Aegon closes his eyes. Criston must be arguing with him.

“No, you don’t understand,” Aegon says, forcing the words to leave his lips and ride the wires to the West Coast, to where the sun sets, to where the future is dawning. He’s still holding your hand. “Aemond doesn’t have a son anymore.”

[mrstsugikuni]

Wait!! Ur having a baby?!!$!3?2;4 omg congratulations!!!!!!!!!!,, maybe when you have time (no rush at all!!!) There could be some pregnant y/n headcanons for either the upper moons or the hashiras??? Like how they handle their y/n pregnant 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Yes I am 🫶 I am 15 weeks pregnant and I'm having a boy. Also thank you very much 🥰 I'm debating on whether to post the ultrasound photos or not 💪

And I absolutely LOVE 🫶💞💖 this request! So let's get started, I decided to do the top 3 upper moons first since they are my absolute favorite 🫶 and then I'll do the rest of the upper moons and then the hashira 💖

Kokushibo 🫶

He would be very very gentle with you as if you were a wine glass.

He'd have to stop himself sometimes from rubbing your belly because he knew and saw the little baby in there and it was the smallest and sweetest thing ever.

He would give your stomach lots and lots of kisses and would talk to the baby on a daily basis like it was his duty to talk to the small thing.

His eye are on you like a hawk, he wants you to be as safe as possible and he wants to be there if you ever need him or be able to catch you if you fall.

He understands you're very emotional at the moment because your hormones are going wild due to growing a new living thing inside of you and you have lots of mood swings so he's always there to let you cry or rant about something.

He loves seeing you rub your belly and talking to the baby yourself he thinks it's very sweet and can't help but to look in awe. 🫶

Douma 🧚‍♀️

Would act a little strange around you but nonetheless he would always talk to the baby he would mostly tell the baby stories of his life as well pretty much a "God" 😮‍💨

Would always bug you about when the baby was gonna be born and that he just couldn't wait to hold it.

Asks for help on how to be a good father figure for the baby.

Is always rubbing your belly he never holds himself back if he wants to say hello or rub his child he will do so and will sometimes even leave sweet little kisses.

You can see he's trying to get better with the whole emotions thing because he truly wants to be there emotionally for his baby.

Loves giving you hugs from behind and resting his hands on your baby bump and leaving kisses on your cheeks or forehead.

Tries to be there for you when your emotions get crazy but doesn't exactly know but to do so he just listens and holds you.

Akaza 💪

Protective papa for short

Is constantly checking in on you and the baby to make sure you're both alright.

Overthinks sometimes when he's on a mission but knows you can take care of yourself and you'll be ok, but gives you so many hugs and gives your tummy more kisses then ever.

Enjoys spending time with you and enjoys cuddles more than he ever has cause now he gets to hold you and his baby.

He tends to press his forehead to your tummy as if your baby was doing it back.

He's extremely gentle with you and helps you get around the house if you need it cause he knows it can get difficult sometimes.

Let's you vent to him all the time while you sit in his lap as he holds you listening to every little detail running his fingers through your hair in a soothing way and let's you vent until you slowly pass out in his arms and he carries you to bed letting you rest.

Ok so I'm sorry there are more head canons for akaza BUT he is just seems like the sweetest out of all of them and just easy to write with 🥺🫶

[breezybangtanbebe]

God Damn : Changkyun❤️‍🔥

A/N: (i wrote this like over a year ago and never edited it🙃) Changkyun x reader (1st person), toxic breakup, drinking, angst, raw sex, rough sex. Emotional and smutty...I apologize in advance. 🌚

6.6k words

"I'm really worried about him."

"He hasn't been himself since you left..."

"He's so lost without you..."

"He's not responding to any of us and we can't find him..."

"Please Mira.....you're the only one who knows him like us..maybe even better than us. He'll talk to you."

That last text from Kihyun was the hardest one to ignore because it was true.

I did know Changkyun better than his friends and that was one of the reasons why I left him in the first place.

I was done with him and this fucking city, already packed and in a hotel until the day of my flight came. This place held too many memories for me to remain here after our separation some months ago and the wounds were too fresh to risk the temptation to go back.

It hurts but I can't keep living like this.

Neither can he.

I knew I would find him here though.

He was such a creature of habit that it annoyed me that his friends wouldn't think to look here first.

It never fails.

He was always so easy to predict and sometimes I wish he'd prove me wrong.

Just once.

Maybe this is a setup.

Hmm...

The smoke was thick and blinding in the crowded basement and the bass shook the walls as I descended from the final step. The rain and thunder outside were drowned out immediately by the music and I have to squint my eyes to see through the haze as I stepped through it.

It was a typical Saturday night and the mutual acquaintance and owner of the house was hosting one of his usual boozed-up functions that I admittedly used to look forward to. But we all have to grow up sometime.

I moved through the swaying crowd of people too drunk and high to care about making way for the angry curly-headed brunette searching the crowd. All of them were lost in the rhythm of the music.

And whatever else they were on...

I hoped he would be among the many in the small sea of stoners. Make my life easy just once would you, Im Changkyun.

Fucking pain in my ass.

Eventually, I made my way to the furthest corner of the party which was illuminated by beaming red LEDs. Several booths lined the back wall where a single light bulb glowed above each table. All of them were littered with paraphernalia, hookahs, empty liquor bottles, and ashtrays filled to the brim with roaches (not the bugs) and cigarette butts. The stink of smoke was even more potent here since it was the source and it burned my eyes the closer I got.

That's when I saw him.

I know it was him immediately by the sway of his long unkept hair hanging in his face. His black leather jacket is draped behind him and the bulge of his tattooed bicep flexes beneath his loose white v-neck tee. He sat with his head down, his elbows resting on the table and his hands running through his hair.

He's alone. Thankfully. Or else this would have been thrice as awkward. It was at that moment that I questioned my intentions as I lingered a few feet away.

Why am I here?

I should just call one of his friends and tell them he's here.

Jooheon would be happy to pull up with Hosoek more than likely to take over.

Kihyun would march straight up to him and yank him up by his collar.

Minhyuk would most likely do something similar after cussing him out for worrying everyone.

Hyunwoo would sit and talk some sense into him, convince him to pull himself out of this ditch he'd buried himself in.

Hyungwon would drink with him for a little before convincing him to quit and go home.

They were his friends. They should be the ones to handle him in his ruins. Not me.

I should just call one of them.

I should walk away now.

I should...

I'm about to step back into the darkness of the dance floor but suddenly go stiff when Changkyun lifts his head and for the first time in what feels like forever I see his face.

He seems thinner, his jawline sharper than I remember, and there is a red smudge staining the corning of his bottom lip. That's when I noticed the redness on his knuckles.

The scrapes, bruises, and scars.

What had he done to himself after we went our separate ways? Drinking himself into a stooper aside. What demons had he been battling that I couldn't bear witnessing any longer?

Without thinking about it anymore, I approached him with a fast beating and heavy heart. I'm gonna get him out of here and be done.

For good.

I stand beside where he's seated and wait for him to notice me, hoping he isn't too far gone in the glass of what I presumed to be some form of cognac with no ice.

It only takes a few seconds for Changkyun to lift his head to look up at me with blank eyes. It's as if I was just some random girl blocking the light. But after a few seconds of exaggeratedly slow blinking, his expression changes from indifference to annoyance.

"Amira?" I catch on his lips. Changkyun looks me up and down, studying me in my jeans and coat before lazily locking eyes with me again.

"I'm here to take you home." I raise my voice and the look of irony on my ex's face gives me pause.

"Home...." He slurs with a tsk as he drags his eyes back down to the swirling liquor in his glass.

I furrow my brow at him but choose to dismiss the look of disgust on his face.

"Get up," I say with more urgency, not even bothering to raise my voice. Changkyun scoffs lightly before picking up the short-cut glass set before him on the table.

My face hardened as he ignored me to take a sip of the amber substance, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"I am home so.......Fuck off...." He mumbles, gesturing towards the glass as he sucks in another sip.

He was so stubborn when was drunk.

Definitely NOT going to miss that.

Losing my patience, I reach for the glass before he can take another sip and Changkyun's lightning reflexes seem well intact judging by how quickly he moved the cup from my reach. But in the process, he also underestimates the strength of his grip and the small glass shatters in his grasp.

Broken shards fall over the tabletop, spilling the alcohol all over its surface. No one around reacts to the scene though, leaving only me to witness the frustration in Changkyun's expression.

"God dammit..." I hear him huff and my eyes go wide at the steady stream of blood tricking from his palm. He doesn't seem to notice it though and is staggering to his feet like a drone. I already knew what he was after, a drink to replace that one and I wasn't having it.

"No," I say as I grabbed him by the wrist. Changkyun looks down at my hand then at me and scoffs.

"What are you doing?" He furrows his brow with an arrogant smirk.

"You can barely walk. No more drinking. Let's go." I yell over the music.

"Go home, Mira..."

"I'm not leaving here without you!"

"For fucks sake..."

Changkyun drunkenly scoffs at me again before snatching out of my grasp. I quickly grab his other and it turns into an obnoxious game of snatch and grab on the dance floor.

If I weren't so annoyed and pissed, I would be embarrassed at how childish we must have looked. Standing there playing tug of war with each other. Of course, I was no match for Changkyun's strength but I was sober. This meant my reaction time reflexes and persistence were bound to have him relenting to my will eventually.

It took some convincing and a bit of manhandling on my end to get Changkyun to leave the basement. Thankfully, there seems to be a break in the storm and I glance up at the sky with relief.

At least we wouldn't have to walk in the rain on top of me dragging this drunk ass.

My mood plummets once we reach the sidewalk. Because the moment we're outside and the humid air hits him, I flinch at how Changkyun suddenly moves out of my reach to double over a random trash can.

Ugh.

I rolled my eyes even harder as he wretched into the metal bin, resisting the urge to go to him. To rub his back and stroke his hair. To comfort him through the inevitable.

I don't though.

That wasn't my job anymore.

We stumble up the sidewalk for a few blocks until we reach his apartment building and I get him inside using the code I'd memorized from frequent use over the years. It was now pouring again and we were drenched by the time we stepped inside the building's lobby.

I get him inside and shiver at the chilling temperature from the doorway. As if being soaked to the bone with rainwater wasn't enough. It seemed as though just to vex me, my thoughtless drunk of an ex kept his heat off all day.

"Ugh..." I exhale again. Standing here cussing him in my mind wouldn't get us warm so with me supporting most of his weight, we enter.

A trail of wet shoes and outerwear lay abandoned by the front door and the hum of the heat filling the old vents of his apartment swirl around us as I sat in the living room.

I kept his lights dim and left the TV off as I listened to the rain pattering against the windows.

Changkyun snored softly in the spot I allowed him to plop down on the couch and he'd fallen asleep immediately, his hair and shirt still damp, leaving me on the armchair opposite of him.

There Amira. The job was done.

You can leave now.

Leave him and all of this torment behind you.

I said that to myself as I rose to my feet. Changkyun remained still and sleeping with his face mushed against the cushion, his wet hair fanned out over his head.

Why did he have to be so cute AND such a disaster all at once?

Lightning strikes, spooking me to sit back down on the indented sofa. Then another chill ran over my body despite the warming air, reminding me of the weather I'd be facing again once I stepped outside.

An Uber or cab would cost a bit.

And the metro station was too far to walk to in the rain.

Perhaps I should have thought this through, instead of allowing Kihyun's worrisome ass to convince me to do this.

"Dammit.." I sigh, ultimately deciding it would be best to stay put. Hopefully, Changkyun remained asleep by the time the storm let up enough for me to sneak out of there.

So I stayed, reluctantly, and leaned my head back against the cushion of the sofa.

Between the thunder, the buzzing hum of the heating system in his apartment, and the soft sound of Changkyun's muffled snoring, it wasn't long before my eyes began to roll back sleepily.

"Hey...."

I flinch and my eyes pop open to find Changkyun standing before me in the living room, shirtless with his wild mane sitting messily atop his head.

It looked as if he'd awakened some time ago and taken a shower since he's in different clothes and the clean scent of his shampooed hair is detectable from his proximity.

I gulp as my eyes travel down his body of their own volition but blink away any inappropriate ideas before they can form. I lift my gaze to find him staring at me with the same dark interest.

"You're still here..." he states calmly as I sit up in the seat and he regards me just as soft as his voice as I glance around the room with mild confusion.

It was still dark outside but the storm had eased up significantly.

Damn...

How long was I asleep?

His eyes seemed more sober than they were before he passed out and I looked up at him speculatively.

That's a relief.

"Um...yeah. Must have dozed off.." I mutter, grimacing as I shake the sleepiness away.

Changkyun makes a noise that could have either been a scoff or a snort of humor.

"Yeah. Me too.." he chuckles, but his smile doesn't touch his eyes as it trailed off.

I can't imagine the headache he must have right now.

At his pause, I take it upon myself to continue.

"I stuck around hoping that the storm would let up a bit and dry off. I wasn't trying to..."

"Naw it's cool. You don't have to explain...Shit, to be honest...I don't even remember how I got home. Glad you had something to do with that and not some random..." he chuckles shamelessly and although I know he saying it in a joking manner, I know he is serious.

There's no telling how many women he's brought back here after getting shitfaced.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

"Yeah well...Since you're awake, I should probably get going..." I concede amid his nervous chuckling, preparing to stand and Changkyun immediately lifts his hands to stop me.

"What? No...I mean... it's still raining and it's late. People drive like dick heads over here when it's wet..." he says, his choice of words always colorful.

"It's fine...I didn't drive. I took the train." I said truthfully.

Changkyun frowns at my response.

"You took the train? What happened to your car?" He asks and I go tense.

Oh boy.

"I.......sold it," I answer him, tucking my lips between my teeth as I wait for him to digest the answer.

The two of us hadn't spoken in a while which meant I hadn't made him aware of me moving away, let alone me selling the car he'd spent countless hours working on for free.

Other than it being in my name and me being financially responsible for it, Changkyun put just as many miles and effort into it as if it were his.

"You sold your car..." he deadpans and I nod affirmatively.

Bravely.

Awkwardly.

"Yep. For a really good price to a guy I knew from uptown. I.... can't afford to take it with me so.."

"Oh right! Because you're moving out of the city." Changkyun interrupts me.

The sluggishness in his voice was no longer present, telling me he was for sure sober. But that same hint of disdain and disgust presented itself as he spoke. I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off.

"Yeah....I know. Kinda saw it on Instagram. The whole "going away party" threads on your friend's stories gave me the clue. Sucks that I couldn't hear the news from you but...ya know." he shrugs sullenly.

I stand there quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Yeah." is all I can muster and Changkyun scoffs.

"Yeah.." he chuckles breathily, turning away from me as he runs a hand through his hair. I watched him begin to pace slowly, rubbing at the back of his neck and flaunting his bare upper body to the neon glow of the street lights just beyond his apartment window.

"I get it though. Of course you sold it. I mean...why not? You could always just get a replacement. Since that's your way of doing shit anyway. Commit to something, get it all fixed up, and just...walk away from it." He turns on his heel to throw in before turning his back to me again.

His statement stuns me and I'm left speechless as he continues away from me.

I watch his back and the shadows cast against his muscles from the dimness as he walks over to his array of liquor bottles lined up against the back wall of the kitchen counters. He reaches for a half-empty Hennesy, twisting the cap and tipping it back for a hefty sip that's swallowed down like water.

I furrow my brow at the way his shoulders sag in relief as he turns to me.

"You could have told me, you know? Thought we were better than that," he remarks stiffly before he lifts the bottle back to his lips, gazing over its body at me as he takes another sip.

His eyes are expectant and I just stare back, too tired to indulge him.

I sigh heavily and begin patting my pockets to make sure my phone and wallet are still there before spotting my keys on his coffee table.

"The only reason I'm here was because Kihyun reached out." I snatch them up and they jingle loudly as I step around the table. Changkyun frowns at the sound of his friend's name on my lips and narrows his eyes.

"Why the fuck would he hit you up?" he asks and I snort at the bitterness of his question.

"I asked myself the same thing. But he figured I was his last resort in getting in contact with you, seeing as how you've been avoiding everyone and missing work. Believe me, though, I'm starting to wish he hadn't..." I respond honestly breezing past Changkyun in the direction of his guest bathroom.

The only reason I'm able to move so comfortably around his apartment was that Id damn near made it my second home in the duration of our tumultuous relationship.

I wouldn't be surprised if I still had a toothbrush or a box of tampons here.

I flip the light switch, not at all surprised to find Changkyun following close behind and my disheveled reflection staring back at me in the mirror. My curls had dried only a little and my makeup was smudged a tad but not ruined.

"Right..because I'm not your problem anymore." He chuffs, taking another sip and I roll my eyes at his antics as I try to tend to my appearance. I run my fingers through my hair roughly before snatching a paper towel off the roll, dampening it before wiping just below my eyeline.

"You were never my problem Changkyun. The only one here with problems was you." I mutter distractedly, frowning at how difficult it was to wipe away my mascara. My response seems to amuse him and an ironic smirk crosses his face as he leans against the doorway.

"And I'm guessing that's why you left? Me and my problems? Just me though, right? Since you're so perfect..." he asks with a cheeky tone and I hiss irritably as I abruptly turn to face him.

"What choice did I have? What choice did you give me? All we do is fight. It's not healthy for either of us and I'm exhausted. YOU are exhausting. I never claimed to be perfect but you..." I go on and Changkyun nods cynically as I speak.

"Yeah...c'mon. Lay it on me. Tell me how horrible I am despite all the shit I've done for you...I'm the fucking worst right?" He chortles and I can't help but laugh.

"Like I haven't done shit for you! Don't act like that negates the fact that you can't change or that...I don't know...We just aren't compatible anymore. That we've grown apart..."

"I'm not changing for somebody who doesn't know what the fuck they want. Ok?" Changkyun cuts in, jutting his forefingers into his sternum emphatically.

"You're impossible to satisfy Mira! You want me to be someone that I'm not. At least not yet...You put pressure on me to do shit how you want and when I fall short, I'm the bad guy. I never cheated on you. Never put my hands on you..."

"Gee, thanks for the bare minimum of common decency Kyun. I appreciate it." I mumble amid his rambling...

"..when you suggested seeing a shrink, I was open to it.." he continues.

"But did you go?" I tack on and he rolls his eyes.

"That's not the point. You gotta give me time. This shit here? Talking about my feelings...this is new territory for me. You never cut me any slack. You just criticize and jet like you're doing now.."

"Because I'm tired of cutting you slack. I'm tired of waiting...I wanted us to evolve and be better together. I wanted us to live together officially and live healthier and get married and..." I trail off, the words clogging my throat as the heartbreak of feeling rejected by him swell.

For a while, we were fine.

But eventually, I wanted more than what he was willing to give. And he tried to appease me and distract me from the fact that our relationship had hit a plateau.

It took us having a pregnancy scare for me to really see how unprepared he was for us moving forward.

"...but you've made it explicitly clear that that's not what you want." I nearly choke on the sob threatening to break through.

We'd been through this too many times and rehashing it was the last thing I wanted. Changkyun blinked a few times as if he needed to gauge my demeanor before responding.

Then he looked away painfully, grimacing a bit as he rubbed at the back of his neck with a troubled sigh.

"I know...I'm just..not ready.." he mutters, his eyes now on the floor. His jaw tightened and shifted as he contemplated something and I remained in front of the bathroom sink patiently. 

The silence between us was deafening and the longer I gazed at him and his conflicted state, the stronger my urge to cry became.

I love this man.

So much that it hurts to even say it.

Changkyun lifts his head suddenly at the sound of me sniffling and I curse myself for letting a tear escape.

I turn my back to wipe it away with a shaky huff.

"I know. And I'm not waiting for you to be. I can't. I'm just done." I shake my head, avoiding the searing look in his eyes I knew he was giving me.

I sniffle again, scanning his bathroom for the tiny waste bin to discard the charcoal-streaked paper towel and Changkyun stands unmoved in the doorway as I brush past him.

Before I'm clear of him, I feel his hand gripping me by the wrist.

I pause, anticipating the inevitable. Another condescending remark to get a rise out of me, provoking me to engage in more back and forth. Feeding his selfish need to drain me until I was as empty as he felt.

But to my surprise, he says nothing.

At his silence, I turn to find him staring at our now intertwined fingers sadly.

His brow creased painfully and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he bit back the urge to cry, the urge that glistened in his hooded eyes.

"You can't be angry at me for not wanting what you want when you want it," he repeats and I roll my eyes, pulling my hand from his with little effort. He doesn't try to stop me from withdrawing despite us moving like magnets. He drags behind me to the living room mindlessly.

"I'm not doing this...." I mutter as I scan the room as if I'd forgotten something.

"You're here, so you are. We..are doing this." He grits, his tone making me turn on my heel to face him with the full intention to cuss and give him exactly what he wanted.

But the way he glares into me with broken eyes and his sullen shoulders, I'm rendered silent.

"We could have worked this out but instead you did what you always do when shit gets tough. Run away.." he closes the distance between us tentatively, his voice shaking as he spoke.

I shake my head at the conviction in his voice, knowing we were at an impasse.

"Right.." I chuckle before wiping my eyes one more time. I lift them to match his glare intensely.

"And you go and do what you always do when you can't take accountability for shit. Go and find solace at the bottom of a liquor bottle until you're painting the floor with it."

I know the words a daggers to him when he narrows his eyes.

"And you're such a saint." Changkyun tuts his brow arrogantly at me.

Yes. There was a time when getting black-out drunk and high was considered a good time. And those horrible habits were the reason Changkyun and I bonded. Mutual interests evolved as did our relationship and loving him made being under the influence less necessary.

"Well, it's a good thing we ended things right? Since we're so different..." I shrug and Changkyun scoffs, looking away with his tongue sticking through the skin of his cheek. When he looks back, it's with a look that always used to make my core tighten.

"I didn't end shit." he insists, narrowing his eyes at him darkly.

"I know."

"Exactly. So stop acting like I wronged you in all of this. Stop acting like I'm the one who broke your heart, Mira."

The tears were flowing freely by now and I neither had the will or strength to resist them anymore. Eyes rimmed red and shining, I let out a laugh that morphs into a muffled sob.

"I had to. Don't you understand? For the sake of my sanity, I had to walk away because I was not going to sit back and watch you destroy yourself. To watch us destroy each other. I loved you too much to continue this. I tried but I just couldn't. I had to be done."

"What if I'm not?"

"Kyun..."

"I don't wanna be done."

He stares at me blankly for a moment, his eyes reading the way I avoided his with a melancholy smirk.

Suddenly Im inhaling the malted mix of cognac and mint as he grabbed me at the back of my neck, pulling me forward so that he could rest his forehead against mine.

His eyes bore into mine, dark as obsidian and just as hard. The tip of his nose brushes mine and he tilts his head so his words are painted against my lips in an exalted exhale.

"And neither do you.." he mouths, our parted lips sharing a desperate breath for a moment before one of us gives in.

And it's him.

It's always him.

The darkness in his eyes was sinful when he pulled away and I'm ashamed to have been the one chasing his lips a little when he did.

His presence was more intoxicating than any liquor I ever consumed.

The way neon lights from beyond the window blinked against the side of his face, highlighting his chiseled features as he walked me back until I was pressed flat against the wall of his living room.

"Kyunnie?" I stammer as he pressed against me, pinning me to the concrete grey-painted wall, kneading my nape as he tipped his head back just enough to see my face.

His eyes danced with mine for a moment, both of us hesitating and searching for something in the other.

"You hate me, don't you?" He asks.

"I never said that..." I attempt to respond but he shakes his head.

"You never had to..." he cuts me off, his eyes falling to my lips. Without a shred of hesitation, he leans in and kisses me again.

Harder.

More fervently.

Hennessy and desperation lingered on his tongue but he didn't kiss me as if on a drunken impulse. He kissed me as if his life depended on it. Sloppy and frantic. Our teeth clashed at moments as our tongues fought and our voices melded into a melody of muffled moans.

What the hell was happening...

A few minutes ago I was ready to walk away from this part of my life. Ready to end this chapter and close the door on the man who knew better but wouldn't do or be better.

Toxic wasn't even the word.

His mouth parts from mine and he trails sloppy desperate pecks down from my lips to my neck.

My weakness.

The moment his lips grazed my skin, chills ran over my entire body, and Changkyun wasted no time in taking my flesh between his teeth. His hard body felt hot against mine and I wasn't sure if it was his heartbeat I felt through my clothes or my own. But what I did know was that I needed him.

In more than just a physical sense.

I needed him all over me.

On top of me.

Inside me.

His tongue swipes over the series of love bites he placed on my skin and I moan his name needingly. I feel him smile against me and chuckle softly before sucking a mark over my pulse.

He knew he had me the moment he sunk his teeth into my skin. Im putty in his hands and anything he desired was his as long as he was willing to fulfill mine.

Seconds later, we're falling back against his couch with me straddling his waist and him ripping my clothes off. It was not long before Im naked and gazing down at the length of Changkyun's dick standing up in his grasp.

He bites his lip, dragging his hooded gaze up my body as if he'd never seen it before.

Or as if he believed he'd never see it again.

He squeezed my hip with his other hand, encouraging me to grind my hips against him a few times before rising to my knees.

Wordlessly, he guides me down to sink into me slowly. A slow hiss blows between his teeth before his jaw goes slack and my eyes flutter shut in ecstasy at the slight sting.

It felt like forever since I'd had him inside me but it couldn't have been long enough for me to forget how he stretched me. I moan shamelessly with my head thrown back, my waist already whining against him and Changkyun reaches up to tangle his fingers with the hair at my nape.

He pulls me forward, forcing me to look at him as he buries himself as deep as I'll allow him.

"Fuck me baby...fuck me like you fucking hate me.." Changkyun demands, the growl in his deep raspy voice driving me wild with emotion and lust.

I obey immediately, placing my hands on the back of the couch for better support. I slowly roll my hips back and forth to find my rhythm, using my lower body strength to bounce on him. Every movement pushes him deeper and I soon lose myself completely in how good he felt.

Like he was made for me.

My moans soon drowned out the sound of our skin slapping together, the wetness and stimulation pushing me closer to climax.

It never took long for Changkyun to make me cum. He knew my body that well and at times I resented it. He was arrogant with the power he held and it's shown in the amusement written all over his face right now.

His brow is perked and his eyes are fixed on my face, relishing in the painfully pleasured expression of my impending orgasm as he bucked his hips to drive himself exactly where I needed him.

When my legs begin to shake, he smiles and fucks into me faster until a rush of release spurts out and around his dick. My warmth and wetness surrounded him like a waterfall, and he fought against the current effortlessly as I cried out.

"Oh my god.." I drawl out and Changkyun silences anything else I might have said by pulling me in by the neck to kiss him sloppily.

He hugs me against him, holding me in place as his hips continue to roll upwards and stroking me slowly as we kiss.

"I changed my mind..." I mutter against his lips and he hums questioningly.

"I do hate you..." I finish, his only response being a cruel chuckle that makes my walls clench around him.

"Fuck, Mira..." he whispers, taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I pull back slowly, allowing the flesh to stretch before he releases it with reluctance.

I attempt to untangle myself from him but his embrace only tightens with resistance.

Before I can question him, Changkyun grunts as he stands with his arms hooked beneath my legs. My eyes widen in surprise to find his hardened gaze fixated on where were still connected, biting his lip and bouncing my body against his dick.

This angle was even more torturous as it not forced him deeper, but the constant feel of me pounding against him had my clit throbbing from the friction. Not to mention the fact that he held me up and fucked me like this for a while, reminding me of how strong he was physically.

I almost feel like I can't breathe and my voice is hoarse from moaning. I most likely came again. Or a few times. I wouldn't be able to tell. I can barely see since tears still blurred my vision from before and I had no choice but to be at the mercy of my ex and his determination to prove a point.

Though, I had no idea or care of what it was.

"You hate me? Hmm...you hate me?" He grunted in time with his hard strokes, still holding me up in his arms.

I mumble his name endlessly and amidst a string of breathy moans.

I do hate him.

Hate him for ruining all men for me after this.

Hate him for always fucking me..making love to me..like his life depended on it.

Hate him for branding himself on my damaged soul so that every time I closed my eyes, my heart projected his face against the blank walls of my mind.

Hate him for giving me no choice other than to love him.

Fuck, I love him.

Changkyun pauses to step briskly with me still in his hold, nudging his already open bedroom door away for us to enter.

A chill ran over my skin as he stepped deeper into his room. The scent of his cologne and bed sheets trigger memories I fought to forget and I gasp when the softness of his them grace my back.

He doesn't waste another second.

He spreads me wide, keen eyes on where his dick still split me and a thick stream of saliva drips from his tongue and onto the point where we met.

As if it was needed.

I just think he got harder at the idea of stuffing me with as much of his DNA as he could.

And I hate to admit how hot it was.

"Kyun.." I sigh and his eyes snap up to my begging eyes as he sinks into me.

His hips rock my body higher on the mattress and his solid arms cage me against his chest as he fucked me.

Slowly.

Purposefully.

It wasn't hurried and frantic like before.

He curled into me and stroked my warm velvety walls with a gentleness I'd missed from him.

He savored me.

On his lips. On his tongue. In my sex.

Changkyun made love to me like a man stroking against a current, fighting his way to shore.

He fucked me as if it pained him not to.

I felt his lips kissing the shell of my ear as he whispered my name.

Over and over.

I can tell he's unraveling and that the moment is limited.

I held him against me, my nails scraping over his back as he rocked into me faster and harder, making me gasp.

I needed him.

Maybe not beyond this moment or these four walls.

But I needed him now in any way I could.

He'd barely pulled out in time before he spurts himself all over the face of my pussy, hiccuping my name against my throat as he came.

He strokes himself slowly, squeezing the final few drops of cum over my pink folds before pressing his dick back inside of me.

He's still rock hard and my slicked walls welcome him in with zero resistance.

I brace my hands against his hard biceps as he sank deeper inside of me to the hilt, the tip of him pressing as far as it would go. He flexes his hips and pushes himself impossibly deep.

So deep that I can feel our pulses throbbing between us.

So deep that it was as if he was yearning to touch a part of me that he never felt. A part of me that would be our saving grace and keep the withering connection between us alive.

But all I felt was pain.

Sweet.

Somber.

Sobering.

Pain.

"Changkyun...." I whimper beneath him and he eases back an inch with a heavy sigh as he lays his full weight over me.

He rests his face in the crook of my neck and I feel his warm touch caressing my face. His thumb swipes over the apple of my cheek, sweeping over the trail of tears that still flowed from my eyes.

For a while we just lay there, leveling our labored breaths and staring into the sepia tone of his darkened apartment bedroom. I feel myself drifting asleep until the deep vibrations of Changkyun's tired voice pull me back up.

"Hmm?" I rasp and he sniffs and swallows the hard lump of emotion in his throat, hugging our naked bodies tighter together.

"I don't blame you...for hating me." He says shakily, sniffling again. If it weren't for his grip on me and my fatigue, I would have pushed him away just enough for me to see his face.

I furrow my brow and contemplate what I could say to him in response. Just to ease the pain in his voice a touch because I did love him that much.

But...

"I hate me too..." he adds on, squeezing me again.

Changkyun turns his face so that that his nose brushes against my nape and his shuddering breath against my skin makes me shiver.

He cries there for a moment and the weakened tone of his light sobs pull me down into the abyss with him. I say nothing though. Knowing anything I could say would either sound patronizing or enabling.

Or a like a lie.

And I just couldn't do it anymore.

But God Dammit if it didn't hurt.

"I'm sorry." He whipsers after his silence sets a pause in his tears. The words sound painful for him to say and for some reason, my heart ached.

This changed nothing. He was still who he was and so was I. As much as we loved each other, it would never be enough.

"Me too. " Is all I can manage to say and I tangle my fingers in the sweat-damp hair at his nape, stroking his scalp with my fingertips soothingly as we both lay motionless.

Still connected in the only way we could be.

🥵

[dropout-if]

when you're feeling up to it. can we get the ros reactions when they find out that it was a mosquito bite? [especially want to see if j, kai, and travis understand the meaning of 'eating crow'. and uma deserves a hug. statler too! wanda the queen of handling things calmly, a champ.]

AAA ofc! Part 1

Jade/Jean- “... Ah.” J pauses awkwardly. Their eyes narrow, anchored in that one spot on your neck. “You should— No, I’m not explaining why I was mad. Just— C’mere, I’m worried about that. Let me take care of it, okay?”

Uma- they pale almost instantly, shuddering, paranoid as they look around with a grimace. “[Name]—” they say, deadly serious, “I’m not fucking stepping foot in your house unless you kill that monster.”

Statler- “I already... Knew that?” Statler winces, “Okay— I thought it was a love bite.” And then they apologize. Profusely, and they apologize some more. “I really don’t know how to fix that, though... No— [Name] don’t you date scratch it.”

Wanda- “Oh my God. That’s actually really scary,” she shudders a little. Unlike Uma, Wanda isn’t terrified of bugs, though that doesn’t mean she remotely likes them. “You’re gonna find this funny, though! You see— I thought that bite was a hickey and was kinda flipping my shit over here!”

Kai- “Whaaaat? No fucking way,” Kai snorts, laughs—you swear you see them flush—they they cradle your face, twist it so they get a better view of the mosquito bite, and they laugh harder.

Travis- “What kind of mosquito even does that? It—” Travis huffs, flushes, he avoids your gaze like it’s a pest (luckily gets mad at something that isn’t you) “Is it fucking Australian or what?”

[bingbongsupremacy]

Knock knock Pt. 2 (Last Part)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Use of pet name 'baby' and nick names.

Summary: A simple request to turn the music down turns into a frustrating back and forth battle. Why does your neighbor have to be so damn attractive?

This fic does not mention anything about the way the readers' body is shaped, their weight, their height, etc. If I happened to miss something or accidentally described the readers' appearance anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List TLOU Master list

*****

" You fucking narc. " Venom drips off of Ellie's voice. Her eyebrows are drawn together, anger splayed across her face.

I hold onto the door handle tightly, staring at the girl on the porch. " I told you what would happen if you didn't shut your little party down. I'm not playing. Williams. " I try to keep my tone cool.

" I'm not either. This isn't over. " With that, Ellie storms away. She slams her front door, mumbling to herself in the process.

Serves her right.

------

" I'm going to kill Ellie Williams. " I huff, burying my head into my hands.

Loud, music vibrates off of the walls. Dina rolls her eyes. " You just keep making things worse by pranking her. She was pissed when you sent 50 pizzas over and she had to pay. No wonder she's throwing another party. "

" She'll easily make the $300 back. She sells fucking drugs, she makes more than I do. " I mutter.

" Maybe try talking to her again? I mean, if it's bugging you that much, it's always worth another shot. Just don't piss her off this time. " Abby suggests, her eyes not tearing away from the medical anatomy book in her hands.

" She's pissed off by everything I do. I literally asked to borrow a pencil once and she told me to fuck off. " I sigh. " But I guess it's worth a shot. Are you guys seriously not bothered by the constant noise? "

Dina shrugs. " Not really. I mean, we live on party row. Of course people are going to throw parties all night. "

I just want some peace. At least like an hour.

I push myself up from my spot on our couch. I'll just try asking nicer.

Once again, I find myself wandering through Ellie's house trying to find her. Eventually my eyes land on the brunette. Her head is tossed back from laughter, her blunt loosely hanging out of her fingers. She's manspreading on the couch, a guy snorting what I assume is coke next to her.

Her eyes eventually find mine as she scans the room. A small smirk makes its' way onto her face. She breathes in another puff from her blunt before releasing it in my direction.

God, even through the smoke she's hot.

" Look who's here guys, the cockblocker. " Ellie teases. " What can I do for you, babe? "

My stomach tumbles from the pet name. I can't tell if it's from nerves or from excitement.

I ignore the feeling, trying to focus on the reason I came over here.

" I wanted to see if we could work out a deal. " I stand a few feet away from the brunette, my eyes not leaving hers.

Ellie's eyes break contact as they scan me up and down. " A deal? " She leans forward, her full attention on me. " What kind of deal? " her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity.

" The kind where we both end up happy. You get to throw your parties and I get a full nights' sleep. "

Ellie stands up, taking a step closer to me. The faint scent of cologne and weed fills my nostrils. " Go on. "

" I'll pay you 100 bucks a week to shut the parties down at 10. Please. "

" No. " Ellie's voice is cool.

I furrow my eyebrows. " No? " I was really hoping she'd take the deal. I mean, who doesn't want free fucking money. The only thing she'd have to do is shut down the party. " What? Um, fine. I can probably do like 10 bucks more. But barely, I'd have to pick up a few more shifts. I- "

Ellie interrupts me. " I don't want your money, Y/N. "

" Then what do you want? " I ask, desperation in my tone. " I can't stay up like this anymore. I've-I've tried earplugs, white nose, everything. Fuck I- "

" I want you to go out with me. "

Ellie's words surprise me.

I search her face for any sign of a joke.

Her expression is serious. Her eyes stare into mine. A glinter of what I think might be worry or nervousness shining at me.

" What? "

Ellie repeats the words. " I want you to go out with me. I'll stop the parties if you go out with me. " She shrugs, pulling the blunt up to her slightly chapped lips.

My eyebrows furrow. " But why? "

Ellie rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. " Because you clearly want to. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you check me out. Not that I have an issue, I think you're hot too. "

I feel heat burn against my cheeks. " I do not check you out. "

Ellie nods mockingly. " Sure you don't, babe. What I said still stands. If you go on a date with me, " She shrugs. " I'll stop the parties. "

" Completely? " I ask.

" Completely. " She confirms.

I'm silent for a minute. Ellie continues to look into my eyes, her confident exterior seeming to grow slightly less confident as the time goes on. She looks a little nervous. I've never seen her like this before.

" Fine. " I finally talk. " I'll go out with you. "

Relief flashes across Ellie's face. " Alright. " She grins. " Friday sound good? "

I nod. " Friday. "

Hopefully this is worth it.

Tag: @macaroni676

[bi-bats]

Trick or treat? >:3c

HELLOOO FENRIS!! HAPPY HALLOWEENNNNNN 💖💖💖💖

But oh NO! You've missed trick or treating!!

Luckily for you, this is now a house party, which means I can post an NSFW snippet!!! This picks up right after the end of the massage prompt I snippeted in this ask earlier 😇

~ ✨ ~

Fuck. Jesus fuck. Jesus fucking christ. 

This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad idea. 

10 minutes ago, Jason did think Tim’s fingers were scrawny. Now, they’re warm and long and lean and making a magical trail up and down his shoulder, and it feels fucking amazing. 

Hell, how long has it been since someone touched him this… tenderly? He’s so used to every touch being a hit, being painful, that he can’t remember the last time someone touched him for longer than a few seconds and was gentle about it. 

And Tim… Jason’s not blind. He’s cute most of the time, and then he gets that one grin that makes him look a little like a mad scientist and Jason’s heart starts ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum-ing like Bugs fucking Bunny. And he’s not an idiot, he’s seen the way Tim blushes around him. 

But he already decided not to do anything about it. And if he teases him a little more and goes out of his way to annoy him so he can see that pretty schoolgirl blush, that’s his business. 

So why the fuck did he agree to this? Something is wrong with him. Colossally. Mentally. He wasn’t going to fuck Tim! He wasn’t going to pick him up by those pretty legs and slam him against his wall and fuck his tongue down his throat, wasn’t going to see just how much of his cock he could get in his mouth—

Another moan rumbles out of his chest on the next sweep of Tim’s thumb across his shoulder. It’s low and deep and jesus fuck he sounds like he’s being fucked slow and good. 

And Tim… doesn’t say anything. Of course, he doesn’t say anything. Jason’s panting like a dog in heat while Tim rubs his magical fingers up and down his back, kneading the muscles, pulling out the tension, and Tim’s probably got that smug little grin on his face, and holy fuck Jason should say thanks that really helped and kick him the fuck out of his apartment so he can spend a solid 10 minutes in the shower with his hand. 

And if he thinks about how Tim’s hands would feel flat on his back, holding him down while he fucks into him, or how those hands would feel digging into his back while Jason fucked into him, that’s also his business. Fantasizing is fine. 

Tim’s hand cups the back of Jason’s neck, and he practically yelps so he doesn’t moan. 

There’s a pause, a moment where Tim could be— fuck, he could be doing anything. He could be laughing, he could be smirking, he could be confused, and Jason should say something, he should say something, fuck, he should explain but he honestly really fucking can’t explain that Tim practically scruffing him really gets him going—

“Are my hands still cold?”

“No, you just—” Jason has to clear his throat because it’s coming out fucking sex drunk, that’s awesome, “caught me off guard,” he finishes. 

Tim hums an acknowledging noise, and then he starts rubbing again. Jason digs the fingers of one of his hands into his leg, hoping his torso hides it from Tim’s line of sight. 

And the whole time Tim rubs his neck, all Jason can think about is what Tim’s fingers would feel like scraping up his scalp, threading through his hair, grabbing a fistful of it, tugging it like a handle, and thank fucking god his shirt is covering his lap. 

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Saturday lovely Fandom. Zero Chenford in this one but it is very good ep overall regardless. They’ve got good separate moments. Still a good ep for them as characters. This will probably be way way shorter than usual ha. We haven’t had this small of content since the Fed eps in S4 which were meh af ha Let us get started.

5x15 The Con

We start out with Lucy and Aaron doing some leg work for Angela's OP on Elijah. This entire ep centers around it and everyone's part in it. I do love how Aaron fits in with both Lucy and Tim. Fun to see them work this OP together to take down Elijah. Lucy moving like a skilled bad ass planting the bug on his car. Aaron being the decoy pretending to be a clueless bystander. I adore her ‘Tell your dog I said Hi’ Feels like a Melissa shirt and I love that. I recall her wearing it in 4x03 as well. Always enjoy seeing pieces of Melissa appear on the show. Anyways fun to see her being a BAMF in the field. They work well together.

19 minutes into an episode to see my boy isn’t acceptable LOL Mmm but what a shot it is though my god. Metro Tim in his tight shirt, can see his badge near his hip, and his gun also hanging out on display. Mmm yummy. That duty belt is doing thing to me clearly haha *ahem* Back to the SL though... They’ve captured Elijah’s top lieutenants. Trying to give the illusion Abril has captured them. Trying to get Elijah to spook for their OP tonight.

I do love the crossed arms. One of my favs Tim positions. Those sexy biceps will be the death of me. But then so will this entire ensemble of his. Then we get a nice shot of him staring into interrogation as Garza leaves. ‘Metro Police’ Stretched deliciously across his back. Man is fine af. Oozes sex just standing there.

Aaron and Lucy are still following Elijah around. Listening into his phone calls. Seeing if their spooking is working. It would appear that it is. He is in a panic since his Lieutenants have been snatched and now his lawyer. It is fun to watch Lucy in her element in the field. Her and Aaron make a solid pairing to watch. We needed this since her and Tim can’t always be together on job now for most part.

Elijah calls for Angela. Earlier in the cold open she offered him a deal. To help him take out Abril’s heavy hitters in exchange for her family’s safety. He scoffed at her offer and passed. Now he’s in a panic and wants the deal. Angela telling Elijah her hitters are at a house in North Hollywood. That he can take them out tonight. It’s a smart trap to set for him and he’s taking the bait.

Celina is involved in this OP as well. Nice to see all hands on deck for this. She is being used as decoy for Elijah’s guys to see. Make them look like they’re distracted and weak before they move in. Mmmm love Tim leaning against that door frame. Sexy beast of a man. Just waiting with his team to spring into action. I love watching Tim in the field. See how his mind works. Always have because he's just so damn good at what he does. Watching him in full tactical gear doing same thing? *fans self* I'll take Metro Tim in the field all damn day.

I also love watching Lucy in field as well. They’re both in their element in this OP. It’s really fun to watch them do what they do best. They're both so good at their jobs and this episode is a good reflection of that. I'm just so proud watching Lucy in these scenes with Aaron. Getting to see Lucy command her portion of the OP. Directing Aaron on what to do. Making calls for them on the fly like above. I know Tim would be so very impressed just watching her handle herself like this. I know I am.

The tension leading up to Elijah getting up to the house is immense. They can’t arrest him unless he is physically on the premises. Not only that but has break into the house with their illegals firearms. If they do anything before then it won't stick. It'll look like more retaliation from Angela and nothing more. Tim and his team waiting inside for him to enter guns at the ready. Yum.

Lucy and Aaron coming in as backup. They’re entering the perimeter when Aaron kicks a bottle…loudly ….It ruins the entire OP. Elijah bails on the attack. They head back to their cars. They spent the entire day setting this up and it's ruined in an instant because Aaron wasn't looking where he was going. Oof.

The angry glare Lucy gives Aaron. Phew Lord. Man if looks could kill.... This is my favorite part of the episode. She learned that disapproving glare from her man. Aaron is feeling the weight of it as he follows her. Deflated and knowing he is the one who blew this OP. It's a rough night to be Aaron.

Also i’m just continuously proud of the bad ass Lucy's become. Running her own side of this OP like a boss. Aaron following her without question. It’s why he’s feeling crushed she is disappointed in him. That look said more than she could ever yell at him in this moment. LOVING her hair in a pony tail for this OP too BTW. Fantastic.

That’s all she wrote for this one. Zero content but still good field moments. Watching them both in their element always fun to watch IMO.

No side notes since this was basically all non Chenford ha

Thank you thank you to all who like, comment and reblog these reviews. Insane we're barreling towards the end of this season. You all have made this so much fun. I shall see you in 5x16 :)

[moralesmilesanhour]

Or an AU drabble where Miles and Margo go to the same HBCU and they have crushes on each other. Someone’s pet trarantula is loose and Miles who has arachnophobia grabs the first person who he can find (Margo) to help him get rid of it.

(obvious spider trigger warning to anyone else reading) Thank you for requesting!! :) Idk the specifics of how HBCU dorms work so I just went by my own experience cuz I couldn't find anything just looking it up lmao I hope that's okay (I also don't know how you're actually meant to handle tarantulas so maybe don't try this at home)

"Miles, don't look now, but - man, I said don't look!"

Miles' head immediately snapped to the wall opposite him where he was typing out a response to one of his discussion posts. Jude sighed and plugged his ears in preparation for the blood-curdling, slasher film-worthy scream that followed.

Miles had seen spiders in his house before; ones no larger than an ant that could easily be mistaken for a different kind of bug until it began to crawl and convulse in that way that only spiders do. He had made it a point to bring in boxes upon boxes of EcoVenger on move-in day to make sure he never had to see any sign of the creatures in his vicinity.

The spider currently ambling up the wall across the room from him after he leapt backwards was the stuff of his worst nightmares.

"Who the fuck brought a tarantula to school?!?"

Miles and Jude were both in the hallway now in their PJs after the former refused to go back inside until it was gone.

"That's Alex's pet. We all saw it at his party last weekend, you didn't-?"

Miles crossed his arms and gave him a look.

"...Right. Of course you didn't."

The door to their right creaked open, half a face peeking out from behind it. Both men recognized the young woman's sharp eyeliner before she even began to speak.

"Aye, Margo!"

"Hey," she smiled as she fully emerged from her room in her usual green sweatshirt and shorts. "Whatchy'all yelling about? I don't think I've ever heard your voice reach that octave."

"Oh that wasn't-"

"Yeah, Alex's tarantula snuck into our room, right next to his head!" Miles interrupted, leaning casually on the wall with an easy grin as if he wasn't just cussing out his roommate and about to do the same to Alex.

Jude gave him a nasty glare, but didn't say anything.

"Oh my god, it got out?" Margo gasped, sounding more like a kid at the zoo than a concerned neighbor.

"Yeah, it's really been botherin' Jude," Miles continued with great affect. "Care to lend a hand?"

"Lemme see - I mean, I can help!"

She clapped her hands together and strolled right past Jude towards their room.

"I'll make sure it's safe and put it in a jar to bring back to Alex, and you," Miles yelped when she grabbed his wrist and tugged him behind her, "are gonna help me catch it."

He hesitated and looked to Jude for help, but the other man shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face.

"Miles?"

"S-sure," he smiled painfully, "I'm right behind you!"

By the time they made it to the shared bedroom, the spider was nowhere to be seen. Miles swore he felt his stomach drop. He swept the room with anxious eyes while Margo ventured into the kitchen in search of a proper container. It wasn't on either of the desks or desk lamps, and after counting to three and pulling away their bed sheets, it did not seem to be hiding there, either.

He found her again while she rummaged through the cupboards to report his findings. She pulled out a mug with the faces of several 'Bleach' characters printed on the front and examined it.

Miles winked, "Don't use that one, that's my good mug."

Margo snickered and handed it back to him.

"Y'all got any mason jars I can use, then? I didn't see any around."

"Sure, they're just behind the...the... "

Miles had made the grave mistake of looking up, and stopped dead in his tracks. There, just inches away from his forehead, was the tarantula. The dark mass was slowly climbing its way up the cupboard where the mason jars were supposed to be.

"Oh, sweet, it's right there!"

He looked like someone had gotten out a remote and pressed 'pause', his eyes the size of saucers.

Margo's brows furrowed in concern.

"Miles? Aren't you gonna get it?"

"I...um..."

His chest began to rise and fall more rapidly as the spider continued its ascent, and she quickly realized that he was a little more than just startled. She took back the mug, set it on the counter, and gently pushed him aside.

"Actually, I got it."

Margo reached up to where the spider was and let it crawl onto her hand. Her other hand, she used to open the cupboard and grab a jar, which she turned to hand over to Miles.

"Open this for me?"

"Now that I can do," he said, taking the jar carefully as if the tarantula would leap off of Margo's hand at any moment. "There."

She deposited the creature into the jar with such ease that Miles half-expected to be made fun of, but she didn't say anything. Just observed with a little smile as it crawled aimlessly around the container and pushed its legs against the glass.

"Y'know, Alex actually let me hold this little guy once."

Miles leaned back against the opposite counter.

"Do you, like, regularly pet bugs?"

She hummed before answering, "I like some bugs, but I'm not exactly diggin' in the grass looking for 'em. Tarantulas are cool, though. They can shoot their hairs out at people to defend themselves. Wish I could do that."

"It'd be a hell of a superpower," he laughed. "You wanna take this guy across the hall?"

"I do, but are you gonna be able to handle it?"

"He's trapped and he cannot hurt me," Miles got off the counter and gestured for Margo to go ahead of him. "I'll be fine."

[thesummerstorms]

God, I have so much reading and/or research to do to see if this actually makes sense. But my rough/working outline for Heroes of Olympus Wonder Family goes like:

> The Titan War/Second Titanomachy ends

> Diana sees enough when the Justice League is sent to clean up and investigate the remnants of the three day battle in Manhattan to demand answers of the Gods

> Diana, along with Donna Troy and Cassie Sandsmark, get answers. They do not like the answers. Too bad, so sad, Zeus already made them swear, so no take backs.

> Diana and co. start seeing the early supernatural disturbances that indicate Gaia's rise, which were previously hidden by the Mist

> Artemis of Bana-Mighdal has started figuring out the whole demigod thing on her own with the Mist having been weakened by Hecate's defection, but assumes Diana already knows, which pisses her off

> All four Amazon's respective teams/ superhero friend groups are perturbed by their sudden, seemingly random disappearances and their refusal to explain what's happening (Diana & co. because of their oath on the Styx, Artemis because she's playing her cards close to her chest until she finds out who already knew about the dying children.)

> This continues, gradually escalating and getting tenser, until the Gods seal themselves in Olympus and Thanatos is captured. None of the Amazons actually know where either Camp is specifically so they can't ask for answers unless they find a demigod in the wild.

> Cassie Sandsmark takes a blow that should have killed her in front of Kon and Tim. She revives similar to Gwen from Camp Jupiter. Her friends freak out. She freaks out. Diana shepherds her away without answering any questions.

> All three of Diana's Amazons go dark overnight. Donna and Cassie's absence isn't really noticed by the civilians, but the press does eventually put it together that no one's seen Wonder Woman.

> Artemis the Amazon has also gone missing, but most people who notice think she's gone back to Bana-Mighdal. She has not.

> She may actually find Sadie and Carter Kane at some point, but I know even less about their books

> Elsewhere on Half-Blood Hill, the Roman and Greek demigods eventually destroy Gaia. A lot of clean up/mopping up is done after the funerals.

> Diana publicly reappears with grey inexplicably threading her hair. When Bruce and Clark demand answers, all she'll say is that the Gods can take back anything they freely gave. The implication is that she angered her father Zeus and is no longer immortal.

> Bruce and Clark realize she can't speak about whatever happened, but are disturbed enough by the results that Bruce starts digging.

> Donna Troy shows up first to bother Dick Grayson in Bludhaven specifically and then to the Titans. Unlike Diana, she is still actively looking for loopholes and starts bugging the shit out of them to return to Manhattan, hoping to lead Dick specifically to discover the demigods without revealing enough herself to get zapped by her oath on the Styx.

> Kon and Tim just walk in one day and Cassie is sitting there without any warning. This is one of the weaker bits for me because I haven't read enough source material, but right now I imagine it leads to Cassie having some sort of break down that Tim and Kon don't know how to handle. If that's OOC, I'll revise it later.

> Artemis has voluntarily relocated herself to NYC, though she vocally hates it, due to the proximity both to CHB and the Brooklyn House. She reached out to Jason starting to ask for aid gathering specific information, not knowing that he's already been tipped off by his brothers that something is up.

> Somewhere in the midst of this growing mess, Annabeth Wayne Chase, only a few months returned from Tartarus, is spurred by a chance reunion with her cousin Magnus to go home to Gotham for closure.

> She doesn't intend to contact any of her family so much as observe them from a distance, as her own Oath not to reveal the Gods and their children to the superhero community is still in place.

> ...good luck with that, Annabeth. It's not like they're all already more suspicious of the Greek gods right now or anything....

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: how you meet pt 2

characters: fem!reader x zenitsu, shinobu, tengen & his wives

warnings: spiders, minor injuries, polyamory

ZENITSU

he's a sweetheart omg

you guys meet in the forest with the spider demons

you're a slayer

a pretty strong one too. not hashira level but you're working on it

you're weakness?

spiders, bugs, anything creepy and crawly

but isn't that everyones weakness?

idk know how you were convinced to go fight a spider demon

bc personally? ain't no way

but anyways

you get separated from the group of slayers you were working with

so ur alone

when u hear some bushes rustling or som

so u look down and boom

a spider

with a human head

FUCK. THAT.

you take off running and i mean fast

so fast you can't even see where ur going

and bam u run head first

into zenitsu

who coincidently was running from the same thing as u

he realizes ur human, grabs ur hand and TAKES TF OFF

ZOOMMMMM

ur gone

until u meet spider demon w the house

zenitsu passes tf out, ur shitting urself just a little bit, and then

zenitsu handles tf out that demon

while asleep?!

hot af

sleepy zenitsu could get it

SHINOBU

idk somethin abt her irritates me

she still fine asf tho

shes a top fs

you're a slayer

and you were on an easy mission

prob a low ranked demon

and then shit

a lower moon pulls up

low key fucks u and ur comrades up

somehow yall kill it

and your brought back to the butterfly mansion to be treated

and we all know miss gurl shinobu is running that mf

so shes obv overseeing your recovery

for some reason the other slayers heal faster than you did

wonder why?

perhaps purposely ripping ur stiches to spend more time around a pretty lady?

noooooo you would neverrrr

thats exactly what u were doing

and shinobu knows it too

but she plays dumb cause she thinks its sweet that you admire her enough to delay your recovery and cause urself that pain

she does poke u a lil too hard when redoing ur stitches tho

takes care of u til ur ready to go on another mission

TENGEN + wives

he's so fine for what

can we make this foursome into a fivesome?

sooo ur not a slayer

ur not a kunoichi

not a fighter at all

just a cute lil civilian

you meet the wives before you meet tengen

you're out shopping

need some new clothes

or maybe you have an event that you need some new jewelry for

gotta look flashy yk

so you finish your shopping and walk out of the store when your knocked flat on ur ass

it was suma

she was running from makio after making her mad

and she ran straight. into. you.

she immediately burst into tears because she felt so bad

makio is yelling at her for knocking you down

and hina is trying to calm them both down

and ur jus like "wtf is goin on"

you feel fine until you stand up

you hit the ground again

ankle = sprained

que the guilty sobbing from suma

the girls carry you to a bench to assess the damage and this grabs tengens attention all they way from the inside of another store

like "who is getting attention from my wives?"

VERY UNFLASHY

jealous af

until he sees u

a cute little civilian women in pain

and his wives fawning over you

he introduces himself and gets the story of what happened

calms suma and makio down

and apologizes on their behalf

meanwhile ur in awe

um hello?? a literal god is standing in front of you apologizing for his wives

WIVES??

AS IN PLURAL? MORE THAN ONE???

he checks ur ankle

his hand wraps around ur entire leg

dudes hands are big af

not the only thing on him thats big

to make it up to you he carries you to a very flashy cafe

where you all sit and have tea and snacks together while you rest ur injured ankle

tengen pays

does this count as a first date??

i love them

[andtheyreonfire]

sacrifice

ao3

WC: 1,065

AN: happy birthday @averagegtenjoyer !!!! you are a fucking awesome friend and i offer this to you until i can get your actual gift sorted out fhdskjl

~

“Does it get lonely?” Akechi asks. “Being a god?”

Akira snorts. He’s hunched over his own creation, room-sized hands polishing massive bits of metal. One of these days, Akechi should ask him what he’s doing. One of these days, it might make a difference. “I'm not a god?”

“Oh?” Akechi smiles, wide enough for Akira to see. He shifts on the embroidered pillow he’s perched on. The cushion’s larger than his mother’s house. Akechi pretends the thought doesn’t make him cower. “So, the sacrifices, the temple, the cult at your door—all of those are just for show?”

Akira pulls a needle from—somewhere. Hammerspace surrounds him. Akechi'd be lying if he said he wasn’t the most dangerous entity he’s ever seen. It's good thing he’s practiced, then. “I suppose gods’ sacrifices wouldn’t ask these types of questions.”

“Do you mind?”

“No.” Akira shrugs. He threads the needle, adding leather to the handle of something that almost looks like a sickle. At least, if the blade didn’t spiral inward like a fractal. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“You can’t tell?”

“A god would mind. I don’t know. I like hearing about your life.”

All at once, Akechi has the urge to scoot closer to him. He’s sitting on a cushion to the side of Akira's—desk is a generous word, considering it’s the size of a cliff and carved from a species of wood Akechi's never seen in his life. The set-up is enchanting, inviting. It makes Akechi feel special, to be here. It’d be effortless to close the gap.

Akechi freezes, warning lights blaring in his mind. His hand twitches for the sword at his side. With a tremendous amount of effort, Akechi retracts it. He must soften his edges, appear something like innocent, for his mission.

This—flirting is dangerous. The longer his enemy does so instead of showing his true, monstrous colors, the more dangerous it becomes. Akechi shouldn’t be this close.

There’s nothing Akechi can do but persist. “Time is all we have, I suppose. I understand wanting to find ways to pass it.”

Akira snorts again, dropping the needle. “Sure.” Akechi doesn’t flinch as it clatters against the desk, doesn’t move as Akira reaches for a cloth the size of a bedsheet. He can’t stop his palms from sweltering. “I'm surprised I couldn’t convince you to pick up a hobby. It does get boring down here.”

“I can entertain myself well enough.” Studying the giant would be Akechi’s hobby, if it wasn’t already his job. That, and sharpening his skills for the day of reckoning: slashing matchsticks as long as his leg whenever Akira turns his back. He didn’t sacrifice himself to the demon’s dimension without an army as backup, ready to strike the second Akechi finds his weakness. That would be foolish.

Almost as foolish as believing Akira when he says he cares.

Akechi says, for the sake of learning weaknesses and nothing else, “If you’re not a god, then what species are you?”

Akira doesn’t look up, polishing the long, cold blade with a soft cloth. “I’m just condemned, I guess.”

Akechi laughs. He’s self-aware enough, at least, to know his side will lose the war. And then, Akechi will have the commander right where he wants. And then—well. Akechi asks, “By whom?”

“I fucked up.” From this far down, his face is impossible to read. It’s easier to pretend Akechi's at a disadvantage than acknowledging Akira has the most impressive poker face he’s ever seen. “I didn’t mean any harm, but someone thought I did. I'm trapped here for as long as they see fit. We’re all bugs to be squashed by someone, I suppose.”

Fucking rich, considering Akechi's almost been on the wrong side of Akira's boot several times. Still, Akechi smiles. “And, what are you? You didn’t answer my question.”

The blade is otherworldly in the pale light of Akira's room. Akechi watches as Akira finishes, heaving an object that weighs as much as a house into a drawer. When he turns to Akechi, his gaze is readable, sharp. “I don’t think I need to be anything. It’s restricting. What matters is that I'm here, and what I can do with the tools I have.”

Akechi steels himself, trying not to feel like a bug pinned to a corkboard. “Wouldn’t it be nice to define yourself? To describe yourself?”

“For what? For other people? Or for your own sake?”

Akechi rests a hand on his chin, forcing himself to relax, a little, into their usual back-and-forth. “For others, I suppose.”

“You tell me.” All at once, Akechi's veins turn to ice, as Akira tilts his head and says, “You never told me your given name.”

Because Akechi doesn’t have one. Because he remembers his mother—her warnings, the fear in her eyes, the scars, the blood, her cold, limp embrace—and there’s nothing else Akechi wants to honor. There’s no one else he’s doing this for. He’s an Akechi, he’s Akechi, and if Akira peeled back the walls of his heart with a sword-like claw, he’d find nothing beyond that.

The perfect soldier. The unwanted child. The burden of a son—his identity doesn’t matter. He’s here, he’s going to slay this monster, and he’s going to take revenge on the commander who ruined his life. That’s final.

“You’re right, I suppose.” Akira rumbles, snapping Akechi out of his thoughts.

It’s been a minute since Akechi was supposed to respond. Akira's looking right at him, eyes the size of Akechi's head locked onto his pathetic—no, not pathetic, Akira's just freakishly oversized—form. Akechi keeps his tone level when he asks, “What?”

“I didn’t answer your question.” Akira crosses his arms, placing his head in the crook of his elbow. Akechi freezes, instinctually, at the proximity. “It does get lonely, around here.”

Akechi's limbs threaten to tremble. It’s his weakness—all this time, and he still freezes up when Akira when levels his full attention on him. It’s the size. It’s the strength. It’s the fact that he’s taking off his mask to look someone the size of his finger in the eye. All Akechi can manage is, “O—oh.”

“But, it’s not so bad.” Akira smiles, then, unmasked gaze turning soft. “I have you, after all.”

Akechi hunches his shoulders, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. He doesn’t look back.