#i gotta remember to bring a proper pillow next time

[celeryw]

actually need to go to bed i have been waking up extremely late

[bugrry]

make him a daddy.

hi loves!! i was talking w some of my mutuals about harry having a breeding kink so i decided to try my hand at writing smut!! i really really hope you guys enjoy it!! please let me know what you think :) also i fuckin hate the title lmao

also, thanks to @strawberryystyles (and her bf) @serendipitystyles and @mindofharry for proof/prereading this ily stinkies to bits <3333

anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

send a request // add yourself to my taglist // here’s my masterlist

warnings: breeding kink, swearing obvi, the words whore and slut a few times, overuse of pet names, cum eating, overstimulation (i think?)

word count: 1,571

“You’re my good little girl aren’t you? You’re gonna look so hot filled with my cum. Even hotter with my baby inside you. God, you’re gonna be such a good mommy, baby girl. Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

“Y-you’re already a daddy-- you’re my daddy--” Harry cuts you off with a smearing kiss to your lips, silencing the next words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“I don’t want to hear another noise from you until we’re done, okay baby girl?” He groans, kissing his way up and down the column of your throat as his hands dig into your plush hips. “Gonna be good for me? Take my cock and then all of my cum? Every. Single. Drop?” He punctuates the last three words with bruising thrusts inside of you. Your eyes drift closed and your mouth falls open.

When you don’t answer him, he leaves a smack on your thigh, which makes your eyes snap back open and your mouth slam shut. You look into his eyes to try and figure out what the fuck he wants you to do to answer him.

“I need a yes or a no pretty girl, a nod or a shake of the head will do. I want you to open your pretty whore mouth but if you say a word this all stops right now.” He growls softly, kissing along your jaw as you open your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, open wider, sweet girl,” you comply, “so precious. Can’t wait to fill up your tight fucking cunt.” He grunts, then spits directly into your mouth, getting only some on your lips and cheek.

“You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, sweet girl?” You nod desperately, going to close your mouth before he grabs your jaw with a bruising grip. “Did I say you could close your mouth? I don’t remember.” His grip is so tight on your skin that you can’t move your head, so he moves your head from side to side, giving him the answer he wants. “Exactly baby girl, I didn’t.” He moves his hands from around your jaw to the inside of your mouth. He presses his fingers on your tongue, pushing them back, almost into your throat, causing you to gag.

“Sweet girl, always proper gagging for it, aren’t you?” He says, moving his fingers out of your mouth and nudging your mouth closed. He brings his wet fingers down to your clit, and begins rubbing tight and rough figure-eight patterns. You let out a yelp and Harry brings his other hand up and slams it against the headboard, gripping it so hard his knuckles turn white. He groans, and moves the hand from the headboard to your mouth, covering it with his massive hand.

“What the fuck did I say? I told you to shut the fuck up. I just called you a good girl, but now I think you’re acting like a fucking brat.” He grunts into your ear, and you whine into his hand, as you know the damage has already been done and there’s no avoiding what he’s about to do to you.

He pulls out of you quickly, making you wince. You try so hard to not make another sound, but then Harry grips your hips again and flips you on your stomach. He lays a hard smack to your ass, and spreads your legs to get a look at you.

“Such a pretty cunt you have, darling. So pretty. By now it could’ve been filled with my cum, but you had to go and be a brat. What do you have to say for yourself?” He says, gripping your hair and forcing your head in a way where you have to look at him. 

He watches you open your mouth, ready to say you’re sorry, but then he narrows his eyes and you and you shut your mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I don’t want to hear a pathetic I’m sorry daddy--” he says, mocking you and your accent, “I’ll never do it again daddy, when we both know you will, won’t you?” He says, keeping his tight grip on your hair. He moves your head once again, this time in a nodding motion. “Exactly. Because I know my sweet little whore better than she knows herself, I think.”

Without warning, he slams himself back inside you, quickly resuming his bruising pace. You barely catch yourself from letting out a scream of a moan. Once Harry lets go of your hair and resumes his almost petting motions, you turn your head and bury it into the pillow below you. In order to not groan out loud when he brings his fingers back down to your clit, you scrunch your eyes closed as hard as they could go and hope nothing would slip out.

“I’m so close, my sweet little girl. I’m gonna cum in this beautiful fucking pussy and you’re going to take it.” He grunts, giving you a particularly hard thrust. “Because that’s what you’re made for, isn’t it, angel? You’re made to take my cock and my cum, even my fucking spit. You’ll take anything I give you and you’ll fucking like it.” 

You finally allow yourself to let out a scream, and Harry is too focused on how your pussy is swallowing and gripping his cock to even care at this point, so he grabs your shoulders and pulls your back against his chest. 

“You’ve been taking my cock so well baby girl. Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear how much you love my cock and my cum and my spit. Tell me, or you don’t get to cum.”

You begin to stumble over words as you try your best to keep your grasp on reality.

“I-I love it daddy! I love your cock! I love it so much, it-it’s so big and it stretches my tiny little pussy out so much! Daddy I love taking what you give me--I love being your good girl--please!”

“My good girl. My good. Fucking. Girl,” He says, once again punctuating his words with particularly hard thrusts, “Now, beg me to cum or I’ll fill you up with my seed and leave you here.” He whispers directly into your ear, bringing one hand up to play with your sensitive nipples, causing you to arch your back. 

Your eyes widen at the threat. “No daddy--please let me cum, please please please-- I’m sorry I was a brat I’ll be such a good girl from now on-- I promise I’ll follow all your rules and listen to everything you say-- just please let me cum.”

“Okay sweet girl, let go for me, yeah? Clench around my cock and let go for me.” He brings his hand back down to your clit, rubbing at it once again. Nearly the second his command left his mouth, your whole body tenses, your walls clench around him, causing him to groan loudly in your ear, and you feel your orgasm rip through you. Your vision goes white for a few seconds and you feel Harry’s grip on your waist tighten so that you wouldn’t fall. He lowers your body down onto the mattress, continuing to piston in and out of your tired pussy until you feel him release inside you. 

For a while it feels like he’ll never stop cumming, but eventually his thrusts slow down, and he presses a kiss to your shoulder as he pulls out slowly. You wince tiredly, and Harry whispers apologies and he presses soft kisses up and down your back.

Once he’s all the way out, he gently flips you on your back and brings his middle and fingers up to your sensitive pussy. You go to move away from him, whimpering about how it hurts, but he pulls you back.

“We gotta make sure none comes out, right babydoll? We want as much as we can get to stay in there, yeah baby?” He pushes his fingers into you, pushing his cum farther inside you, and you whimper and whine at his movements, but you don’t push him away. When he eventually pulls his fingers out of you, you look down at his form to see him already staring at you, pushing one of his fingers into his mouth. He sucks the combination of his and your cum off his finger, and begins to move up your body. He taps his other cum-covered finger on your lips, and you obediently open your mouth and invite it in. You suck on his finger like your life depends on it, and Harry can’t seem to break his eyes away from where your lips surround his finger.

“Such a good fucking girl for me, baby. Always so fucking good. Always doing whatever daddy asks, aren’t you?”

You smile up at him as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, “Almost always, daddy.”

“Alright, you brat. Let’s get you to the bathroom and then in the tub so we can cuddle, okay?” He says, a soft smile on his face as he traces his fingers along your jaw.

“Of course daddy, but I think you’ll have to carry me. My legs feel like jelly.”

He chuckles at this, scooping his arms around your body as he makes his way to the bathroom. “I think I can handle that, sweet girl.”

... 

i hope you guys enjoyed it, i’m proud of it :)) 

taglist for harry fics: @ji5hine @sarcasticallywitty15 @iwanttobekilledtwice @harrysdimple05 @tpwkhes @summerstylesx   @strawberryystyles

[kurowrites]

tatice Plot idea: wangxian modern AU: 5 times LWJ proposed when drunk and 1 time when he wasn't. Bonus point if it started with mutual pinning

Uuuuuuh. Let’s see if I actually make it to 5? Hahaha.

This is Part I.

---

I. The First Time

It wasn’t exactly news that Lan Zhan was a bad drunk. No, Wei Ying had known that intersting little fact ever since Lan Zhan had accidentally drank some mystery alcohol when they had been in the first year of university, and Lan Zhan had ended up behaving very badly, indeed. Lan Zhan might not remember much of that night, but Wei Ying surely did. 

So, Wei Ying had known that they were in for an interesting time as soon as Lan Zhan’s lips had touched the rim of the glass. What was new, though, was Lan Zhan, half curled up in Wei Ying’s lap, his arms tightly curled around Wei Yings waist, his face sloppily pressed into Wei Ying’s stomach. He was mumbling something, but Wei Ying had no idea what he was saying. He looked over at Nie Huaisang a little desperately, hoping at least for some sympathy, but the traitor only shrugged and took another sip from his own wine glass (who used wine glasses at a dorm party, really), apparently uncaring of Wei Ying’s current predicament. 

“I think it’s time to bring that one home,” Nie Huaisang said, the tone of his voice clearly implying that it wasn’t going to be him who was going to bring Lan Zhan home. 

“Fine,” Wei Ying huffed, sending Nie Huaisang a sharp glare. “Let’s see if I ever help you out again when you’re on the verge of failing your classes.”

He shuffled around to get his legs under him, and rose to his feet with the added weight of a drunken Lan Zhan hanging off him like a limpet. 

“Come on, big boy,” he said as he balanced them both precariously. “You gotta stand on your own feet, I’m not going to carry you out of here.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied, and finally decided that standing was a thing that he was still capable of.

Wei Ying’s relief was short-lived. Lan Zhan only used the chance to cling to Wei Ying all the more tightly, and Wei Ying had to fight a blush when Lan Zhan stuck his face into the nape of Wei Ying’s neck. (He! Blushing! What a thought!) 

With a sigh, Wei Ying left Nie Huaisang behind (rude gestures were exchanged in the process). He shuffled towards the entrance, shouting at Jiang Cheng to go home on his own as he passed him by. 

He could technically return to the party after bringing Lan Zhan to his room, but he wasn’t feeling it. Not to mention that he didn’t think that leaving a drunk Lan Zhan on his own was a good idea. Not after he had experienced drunk Lan Zhan once already, anyway. 

So he dragged Lan Zhan to the elevator, and dragged him all the way back to his room. He was nice about it, too. He was nice enough to carefully fish out the room keys out of Lan Zhan’s jacket, and then, once they were in Lan Zhan’s room, he stripped off Lan Zhan’s jacket and shoes, and guided him to his bed. 

Lan Zhan flopped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, but he forgot to let go of Wei Ying in the process, and so Wei Ying ended up being pulled down, falling face-first onto the soft covers of Lan Zhan’s bed next to Lan Zhan. 

Before he even had the chance to complain, Lan Zhan had already wrapped himself around him like an octopus. 

Wei Ying wriggled experimentally, but no dice; Lan Zhan did not seem to have any plans to let him go anytime soon. 

“Lan Zhan,” he whined. “I’m not your teddy bear.”

“Nn,” Lan Zhan disagreed. “Mine.”

Wei Ying gaped. 

“Lan Zhan,” he gasped. “What the hell?”

“Wei Ying should be mine,” Lan Zhan declared. And then, “Sleep.”

Lan Zhan promptly followed his own advice, falling asleep almost instantaneously, Wei Ying still stuck in his embrace. 

Wei Ying stared at Lan Zhan with a dumbstruck expression that probably looked ridiculous. If Wei Ying had had any plans of sleep soon, they certainly wouldn’t be happening while Lan Zhan was clinging to him. Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan’s suddenly still, relaxed face, and tried to make sense of Lan Zhan’s words. 

He must have meant that Wei Ying should be his friend. Wei Ying had made a habit of bothering the hell out of Lan Zhan ever since he had first laid eyes on him, but it had taken them quite a long time to become proper friends that deserved that label. And even then, they had never even talked about it. About being friends. 

Yes, that must have been what Lan Zhan had meant! He was finally able to acknowledge them as friends. Which was really great. 

Wei Ying waited in the half-darkness of the room until he was absolutely sure that Lan Zhan was deeply asleep and relaxed, and then carefully extracted himself from Lan Zhan’s hold. 

He should go prepare some painkillers for Lan Zhan. If he was such a lightweight, it might be enough for him to get a horrible hangover, as well. And he had to look for the blanket and pillow that Lan Zhan usually got out for Wei Ying whenever he stayed the night. 

And maybe, he should also attempt to reduce his heart rate in the meantime, after being in such close proximity with Lan Zhan for such a long time. Looking at a handsome face like Lan Zhan’s always made Wei Ying feel a little woozy if he did it for too long. 

It was an extremely handsome face, after all. 

“Good night, er-gege,” he murmured over his shoulder, not quite daring to look back, and went off to look for those painkillers. 

---

When Wei Ying finally woke up the next morning, Lan Zhan was already awake. Clearly, he had kept himself busy by preparing a nice little breakfast for the two of them. 

“Mh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmured when he spotted the food on the little table in Lan Zhan’s room. “That smells so good. How are you feeling?”

“I do not remember us returning to my room yesterday,” Lan Zhan replied. “I have inconvenienced you. I apologise.”

And then he actually made a little bow. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed, because Lan Zhan was never an inconvenience. If anything, it was the other way around. Wei Ying was the inconvenience. “I’m just glad you’re well. Don’t worry about remembering. It wasn’t that exciting, I just made sure that you returned to your room safe and sound.”

He tried not to feel any disappointment. It was better that Lan Zhan didn’t remember, honestly, because his behaviour yesterday would only embarrass him. 

There was absolutely no reason for doing that to Lan Zhan. 

So he reached for the food on the table, and opened his mouth to let out a stream of inconsequential chatter, and hoped that Lan Zhan couldn’t read the strange mood he was in. 

Of course Wei Ying was going to be Lan Zhan’s friend. Regardless of whether Lan Zhan himself remembered.

[allmightluver]

So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA. 

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another. 

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*) 

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink. 

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together.  Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date!  And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again.  (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle. 

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply.  Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to. 

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

[bountyhunter-s-bane]

Thunderstorm

Pairings: Cad Bane x M!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.6k+

Summary: Cad Bane and his apprentice hunter (Reader) wait out a thunderstorm on Ryloth. Neither seem to have much fondness for the weather (content warning for astraphobia)

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

Your latest hunt brought the pair of you to Ryloth. Not perhaps the wide welcoming landscapes or the friendlier towns (under siege by the Separatist forces), but every planet seemed to have a hidey-hole for the less hospitable kinds of people, such as smugglers and bounty hunters such as yourselves. This one was a bar stuck into the side of a cliff and surrounded by dozens and dozens of ramshackle huts for refugees trapped on the planet, either trying to eke out a living or waiting for the first opportunity to get to somewhere safer.

Cad Bane left his freighter outside the outskirts of this shanty town, and instructed you to stay and keep watch whilst he got to business. As you were left sitting there and waiting, staring at the lack of scenery, you figured you would have preferred to join him at the bar. The air was muggy and heavy and the wrong kind of warm, all alluding to the thick black clouds gathering on the horizon. Where you were now however was bright sunshine, and to keep from melting you took shelter under the wing of the fighter with Todo as company. The droid kept up light conversation, both of you bouncing discussion back and forth regarding your latest job. This one was apparently meant to be person gathering over information gathering, something that Cad tended to interchange depending on the current prices going. Both were often available after all, and both could be equally dangerous and fleeting. But for now, you were waiting on your contact to gain the whole picture for what you and Cad would be collecting.

The clouds were almost overhead before Cad returned from his meeting, about as stormy as the oncoming weather.

“Trouble?” you asked.

“Our information and money source didn’t turn up on time,” he grumbled. “I commed him only to find out he’s not going to be in until tomorrow. Waste of time.” He turned and thumped a hand against the side of the freighter, face wrinkled up further from frustration. You remained calm, albeit disappointed as well. The waiting times between missions were often the dullest times you had to deal with. Being made to wait reeked of a particular kind of person that neither of you enjoyed working for, so long as they paid up at the end.

“So we stay the night, wait for him in the morning,” you said, folding your arms as you lean against the side of the freighter. Cad looked down to you, an expression of grim resignation on his face. Taking a moment to rub at the bridge of his nose, he heaved out a tired sigh.

“That’s right,” he replied. You watched him as he slowly sat down on the ground next to yourself and Todo, digging into his coat for a toothpick to start chewing on. His irritation was rolling off him in waves. If you disliked being made to wait, he hated it. Sure, he could be patient while waiting on a target to come out into the open, but there was a difference between patience and being practically grounded on the planet. As he stared up towards the line of black clouds, he felt a gentle weight lean against his side. You shuffled quietly into more of a comfortable position, thinking perhaps that the motion was subtle, up until he raised an arm away from you and draped it heavily over your shoulders.

“The view’s nice at least,” you commented.

“I can agree to that. ‘Least until that storm hits.”

 -

The storm finally broke a few hours later, the tension in the air about as thick as soup. Cad tasked you with going out and finding a place to get food from, which was much easier said than done when wandering about a ramshackle village. Eventually you were able to find a Twi’lek family serving out some wrapped up meals, a couple portions of which you obtained having bargained several credits and an hour of small-talk. It was difficult to bring in any information into this place, so people were getting what they could however they could. While the family seemed keen to move on, they weren’t going to risk getting a ride out with a bounty hunter and his apprentice, it seemed.

A sheet of rain cascaded down, causing you to flee back to the freighter, shielding several foil-wrapped parcels of hot bread and hunks of dried meat under your coat. There wasn’t exactly a kitchen or a section of the ship where a person would sit and eat, and so normally you and Cad would simply eat meals in the freighter’s cockpit where there were seats. Tonight Cad had set up a small burner for heat and extra light, over which you could hang up your sodden coat. With the majority dampness deposited to dry off, you handed over his portions in silence and plopped down into one of the seats. Raindrops pattered across the front viewport, filling some of the empty space as you both dug into the meal.

“It’s weird. It’s raining but still kind of warm”, you commented.

“That’s Ryloth storms for you. Be grateful for the warmth, it’ll get real chilly at night”, Cad replied.

Lightning flashed in the distance. You counted the passing seconds under your breath and around mouthfuls of food. Eventually the grrmmm of thunder sounded, but not before several other flashes of lightning had struck. The distant sound sent cold shudders down your back.

“Shouldn’t we be worried about the ship?” you asked nervously.

“It’s parked close enough to the cliff. Natural lightning rod. It’ll be fine,” Cad replied, hand-waving your concern. He trusted his own intuition on keeping his possessions safe, and so leaned back in his seat as he watched you sit back as well. 

“…I can’t actually remember the last time I saw a proper thunderstorm.”

“Don’t be sappy, lad. You get used to them, and sure get to hate them with some of the planets we gotta work on.”

“I’m not being sappy. I’m being grateful.” 

The lightning got closer, brighter. The thunder started to sound closer to each flash, becoming more harsh until it wasn’t a grumble and more of a CRACK. Cad blinked slowly, feeling more lethargic with the evening rolling in but still very much perceptive of the room. The lightning kept him on edge - too similar to a blaster flashing blue. He could see each flinch you made, the way you recoiled from the viewport in time with the loud thunder. It wasn’t the usual sort of fear he saw on your face when the pair of you faced a situation that had gotten out of hand, that sort of fear came with excitement and adrenaline. This fear was paired with a cold helplessness. 

“C’mon, get up,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and pulling you up from your seat as well, reaching out for the burner. “It’s getting late. It’s quieter in the bunk room anyway.” 

“It is?” 

“Yeah. Makes it easier to sleep and all.” For all his snark, there was an ulterior intent to Cad nudging you out from the cockpit. Discomfort remained in his gut even after moving you away, even now in the soft quiet where you relaxed. No rumbling thunder in here. True to Cad’s earlier warning, it’d gotten quite a bit colder, even in the cramped interior of the freighter’s bunk room. The burner was set on the holotable and cranked up, but that wasn’t going to keep anyone warm without hugging the little machine, and no-one wanted to burn the engine fuel for a cosy night if you were on ground instead of in space.

The silence turned weirdly heavy as you kicked off your boots and Cad draped his coat over one of the seats. You were already shivering from the change of temperature, and Cad wasn’t looking too hot either. By the time you’d set aside your jacket, you were glancing from your own personal bunk to the space that was blankets and leathers and pillows that Cad had built up for himself over time. While you were glancing at the bunk, Cad was looking at you. You were pretty sure you both had the same idea. And while you were hesitant to suggest it, Cad was anything but shy.

“Peh, get over here.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged you over the bunk. “If you got ill from the cold that’d cost us both credits and time.”

Your continued hesitation got you a firm nudge in the back that sent you teetering over to fall into the bedding.

“Kriff’s sake, that was uncalled for!” you snapped, much to Cad’s delight.

“Come on, you were acting like I was going to bite you.” His sly smile became a grin. “I mean, unless you-” 

“That is a conversation for another time,” you said, feeling heat rise rapidly in your cheeks. Cad snorted, sitting down into the bunk as well.

“Seems like the perfect time for this conversation.” Whatever response you had died on your lips as you felt a slight rumble through the ship, just noticeable enough to catch your attention. Cad noticed it too, the heated look in his eyes fading as the moment slipped itself into the cold room, and he settled in close to your side. 

“....So….” Your words trailed off.

“Just get your rest. And stay close to me.”

 -

Rain clattered softly off the metal overhead as the thunderstorm passed overhead. Sometimes you could feel another rattle in the metal of the ship, and you wondered whether it was thunder or your own imagination. Cad was fast asleep, but part of you knew that he’d be awake the moment something bad happened. He’d also managed to coil himself around you, contact generating warmth while one arm rested heavily over your chest. Possessive. Comforting. For all his grit and teeth (and you did think about those teeth more than you probably needed to), he pulled out stops to keep you alive and well under his wing. You’d noticed this protective streak with all his possessions, and wondering if he considered you as such. And really, how bad was that in the end, when he held you like this and gave you that smug grin that caught your tongue so often.

You relaxed and let yourself fall asleep as well, to the sound of the rain.

[d0llpie]

hey can i request prompt 47 with tanaka also super angsty like i want to cry

Miscarriage

tanaka x reader

Prompt: “i lost the baby”

Trigger warnings: miscarriage, heavy angst, like really a whole lot of painful angst just angst

a/n: thanks for the request, i hope you cry <3 I will be making a part 2 btw

wc: 2.6k part 2

You were arguing with Tanaka, again. It started when he came home around an hour ago, three hours past when you planned a date with him. It had taken ages for you to convince him to go on a proper date since he was always ‘busy’. You needed to tell him you were pregnant, wanted to celebrate with him. Instead you were left with 50 unread messages and Tanaka waltzing in the house as if nothing was wrong. When he came and kissed you on the cheek “hey baby” like nothing had happened you snapped. “Where the fuck were you Ryu?” you stood up from the kitchen bench and begun throwing accusation after accusation at him while he just stood shocked, belittling you for ‘overreacting’ at his ‘simple mistake’.

“Oh you want me to apologize for being stood up? Hm?” You throat felt raw from the screaming, desperately just wanting him to apologize and tell him about the baby so you could make up and move on. Tanaka, stubborn as ever, wouldn’t let that happen. “I never said that, you’re working yourself up, stop stressing yourself out.” His calm tone only irked you even more, he could at least pretend to care. “What were you doing that had you so pre-occupied? Or should I ask who?” he snapped his head towards you, visibly annoyed, at least you finally caught his full attention. “What the fuck y/n? Are you seriously accusing me of cheating because I forgot about your stupid date? You know we can go on a date any other time why are you acting like such a bitch right now? Fuck sake you’re so dramatic.” You fought back the tears in your eyes, slamming your fist down on the table “When was the last time we went on a date- a real one? I wanted to spend some time with you ALONE for once to talk to you, but instead you can’t even tell me why you were soo busy to even send me a text cancelling.” A few stray tears slipped out in frustration, but you continued to glare at him, egging him on further. “I was out with some friends Jesus y/n, why do you have to bring your insecurities into everything.” You were hit with a wave of nostalgia, he’d said that line to you when you started dating in high school.

“Tanaka, hey baby, I was wondering if you wanted to come to my class to eat lunch today, I want to tell you something” You smiled up at your boyfriend as he smiled back “Of course baby! I gotta go to practice, want to come watch?” he pecked your cheek quickly, smiling widely at you proudly “Oh sorry, I have to study for a text next period but I’ll see you at lunch!” his face dropped but the bell rang, signaling your next class “Bye Tanaka!” you waved cheerily as he walked back towards the gym.

y/n: Hi, I’m in my class for lunch now :) see you soon <3

read

You frowned holding the homemade lunch you had wanted to give him. After around 15minutes you realized he wasn’t coming. You went to the gym to see if he was there with Noya, you entered the gym and found them both watching Kiyoko with lovesick expressions on their faces, spewing out compliments profusely. “Tanaka.. hey” he looked over to see you in the doorway “Y/N, hey! What’s up?” you stood there in shock for a minute before clearing your throat “Um can I talk to you?” he looked over at Kiyoko who was ignoring Nishinoya before reluctantly making his way over to you. “How come you didn’t come to lunch” you frowned lightly and he sighed “Its not like you came to my practice either, plus, I was hanging out with my friends, don’t bring your insecurities into this I told you Kiyoko doesn’t like me.” He pouted and you felt your heart clench. “Do you still like her?” you whispered and although he heard you, he pretended he didn’t. You plastered on a fake smile before retreating to the classroom, ignoring his texts and calls for the rest of the day until he brought you a bouquet of roses the next day. It was your first of multiple fights over his obvious crush on his manager. Eventually you got sick of the fighting and sappy make-ups so you just ignored it, knowing he could never have her and was with you because he loved you. Right?

“Fine. I’m sorry for accusing you, I’m not sorry for everything else, why won’t you just fucking talk to me!” The exhaustion from fighting was catching up with you and you began to feel light-headed. “Because it’s not a big deal y/n! Wait-what’s wrong?” you sighed, leaning against the wall “It’s the fucking baby and this stupid fight what do you think.” You spat at him and he stopped thinking for a moment. “Baby?” you looked up to see him smiling nervously at  you “Yeah you’d have known if you hadn’t stood me up.” He pinched the bridge of his nose “we’re having a baby, can you let this go?” you scoffed, done with this fight you stormed up to your shared bedroom, crawling into bed and staying as far from his side as possible. You placed a hand over your stomach, softly crying into the pillow while Tanaka stayed downstairs, opting to sleep on the couch.

Noya: Yoo how’d y/n take it?

Tanaka: she’s pregnant

Noya: oh shit, what’re you gonna do

Tanaka: what do you mean what am I gonna do? Raise a baby I guess, fuck idk man

Noya: that’s tough, Kiyoko is staying at mine😍 pray for me bro🙏🏼😩

Tanaka: lucky, i’m on the fucking couch

Noya: sucks🥶

He sighed before turning his phone off, fuck.

The next day you woke up to breakfast in bed and a very happy Tanaka smiling at you, “good morning, how are my babies feeling?” you wanted to roll your eyes and stay mad but you couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered when he referred to you and your child as his babies. “good morning ryu..what’s all this?” you were expecting an apology like usual, or at least for him to acknowledge what happened “You’re eating for two now I guess! When’s your next appointment?” he seemed really freaked out so you placed a hand over his “next week, are you feeling okay?” you pressed the back of your hand against his forehead, he felt fine just a little sweaty. “I’m good, want to go out for dinner after work?” you were hesitant but nodded “You’ll come right?” it’s like his mood did a 180 when you said that “What’s that supposed to mean” he spoke through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm and collected. “You know…yesterday?” he scoffed “still hung up on that huh? You gonna berate me for every mistake I make when this baby pops out of you?” you were wide awake now “woah wait, I didn’t say that-“ “you accuse me of stuff, why can’t I do the same?” his tone was growing angrier by each syllable he spoke. You looked down in your lap, feeling your eyes well up with tears again. “Tanaka please stop” you whispered and he snapped “Yeah doesn’t feel great when you just want to stop but they keep going huh?” you don’t even remember why he was getting worked up, because you didn’t want him to stand you up again? You fiddled with your fingers and zoned out while he continued yelling.

You finally looked up when you heard the bedroom door close, breathing in deeply before hunching over as a sharp pain in your abdomen stopped you from making any big or sudden movements. You groaned out in pain, stopping Tanka immediately. Tanaka ran a hand over his head stressfully “are you okay? Shit. Uh, I’m going to call an ambulance” you groaned again “Call Yachi, she can take me I think we need some-“ tears pricked your eyes and you started to sweat “space, I’ll call you when I’m there.” You could see his eyes well up with tears. His hands were opening and closing, wanting to hold you but knowing better than to do that.

Yachi came over shortly after and lead you to the car. Tanaka saw the blood on your shorts and held his breath, letting a few tears roll down his cheeks. You were silent in the car over, crying softly and groaning in pain every few minutes. Yachi looked over worriedly at you, holding your hand and letting you squeeze her hand for reassurance. “Y/n don’t move ill get a nurse to help you out.” You arrived through the emergency section of the hospital and texted Tanaka

y/n: I’m going into the emergency room now

tanaka: okay, let me know what’s happening

He shut off his phone with a shaky breath, deciding to call his friends over.

Tanaka: Noya?

Noya: hey bro what’s up

Tanaka: Y/n’s in the hospital, can you come over?

Noya: What happened? Kiyoko is here man..

Tanaka: Bring her here, I don’t know what happened she started bleeding and crying

Noya: wtf? Did you hit her?

Tanaka: You know I’d never do that. I think it’s the baby…

Noya: We’re on our way, we have whiskey

Tanaka heard knocking and made his way to the door, he opened it to see Noya and Kiyoko there. “Hey, thank you both for coming.” he stepped aside to let them enter “So how’d the break-up go, is she okay?” he looked quizzically at Noya “You didn’t tell her?” he shook his head “sorry, we were watching a movie..” Tanaka looked unamused by Noya before turning to Kiyoko “We started fighting about me hanging with you guys instead of our date and she told me she was pregnant” Kiyoko looked at him disappointedly “You left a pregnant girl?!” it was unusual for Kiyoko to raise her voice but she felt horrible your you, she knew how much you loved Tanaka and she always felt guilty in high school for what you had to put up with, because of her. “What? No! I didn’t break up with her because she’s pregnant but now...I don’t know, she was bleeding and in pain and she’s in the emergency room now..” Kiyoko was restraining from slapping him, digging her nails into her palms. “Why aren’t you with your pregnant girlfriend, it’s bad enough you don’t love her and now this? You know a baby requires actually raising a human?” He dropped his head down, “I know, I already feel horrible…what if something’s happening to the baby?” he sat down on the couch, taking the bottle from Noya’s hand and taking a swig. “You can still raise a baby and not be together…” Noya spoke up, sitting down next to him while Kiyoko turned the tv on. “It’s not fair on you guys or the baby if you stay together.” He knew he was right, he’d been putting this off for too long, he settled for you and got comfortable with the live you showed him that eventually he stopped showing it back. He can’t remember when he fell out of love but he didn’t want to leave you, he loved you still he just wasn’t in love with you. Deep down you knew, you never let yourself think that for long though. Afraid you’ll end up leaving him, Yachi had tried to get you to leave before but you could never stand the idea. Lately it was like you were already broken up, two awkward college roommates. The idea of raising a baby with him scared you, you were so stressed and sick of overthinking that you passed out in the hospital after a few hours, forgetting to call Tanaka.

You stepped out of the car, hesitating to close the door as you breathed in deeply. It was around 4pm the next day and you had just been discharged from the hospital. “Do you want me to wait here?” Yachi asked from the drivers seat, her eyes were red and puffy, she’d been up all night holding your hand and crying with you. “I think it’ll be okay…why is Kiyoko’s car here?” your eyes stuck to the black car in the driveway that you knew was Kiyoko’s “y/n, i’m gonna wait here you should go inside hes probably worried…” you nodded before approaching the front door. Your legs felt like lead as you stepped up to the door, taking your key out and unlocking the door.

“Ryu?” you moved further into the house, seeing a passed out Tanaka on the couch across from a passed out Kiyoko. “Tanaka.” You said a little louder, making him stir.

Noya came into the living room from behind you “hey y/n, how are you?” he looked hungover and that’s when you noticed the empty bottles on the floor. “Hi noya- Tanaka!” you yelled this time, waking up both Kiyoko and Tanaka. “Y/n? heyyy, how was the hospital?” he yawned and sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. You wanted to run to him and hold him, but you stopped yourself, trying not to focus on how tight your chest felt and the tears building up in your eyes again. “Y/n?” you heard Kiyoko’s soft voice from beside you and you broke down into tears, she caught you before you fell and moved you to the couch, rubbing your back. “I lost the baby.” You continued to cry as the other three in the room sat frozen. “Y/n, i’m so sorry, i’m so so sorry, I’ll come back later but I think we should go…Noya?” Kiyoko hugged you tightly before grabbing Noya and exiting the house.

Tanaka was silent, tears rolling down his cheeks. “What happened y/n?” he avoided looking in your eyes “they said it was because of stress…Tanaka I can’t take this anymore..” you sniffled looking in your lap. He looked up to see how tired and broken you looked, feeling his heart clench. “Y/n, I swear Kiyoko and Noya came over to hang out, I don’t have feelings fo-“ “It’s not about your feelings for her, it’s about your feelings for me…I need you to be honest” he gripped your hand, his lip quivering “I don’t want to lose you y/n…” “You aren’t in love with me Tanaka, i’m not stupid” you chuckled softly, rubbing the rest of your tears away. His silence said enough and so you stood up. “Y/n, don’t go” you scoffed “you can’t keep doing this to me, making me stay with you like this” you commended yourself on the way your voice didn’t waver. “I know, I know, but I-“ he stopped himself, knowing he couldn’t stop you. “I still care about you, I always will.” You nodded, cupping his cheek softly “I know baby, I love you Ryu.”

You walked back outside and sat in the passenger seat of Yachi’s car. You put on some music and she looked over at you before driving away, not asking any questions.

Tanaka sat on the floor of his lounge room, staring into his hands and crying, you were really gone and he couldn’t fix it, it was him who pushed you away anyway. It was him who had to deal with it now.

   a/n: sorry for writing this, i might make a happy ending part 2, send me ideas if you would like to see that <3

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

[queen-swagzilla]

So Much Worse Than A Phantom Limb, Ch. 2 (BkDk)

"Kacchan?"

Katsuki turned to the voice right behind him, but there was no one there. "Deku?"

"Kacchan, where are you?"

He spun in a circle. "Where the hell are you, nerd?"

"Kacchan!" He sounds so scared. Where the hell is he?

He ran toward the voice, running through the park and into the woods until he came to a log bridge—old and weathered. From the way it creaked, he thought it must have rotted through. Deku stood in the center, but he was so small. "Deku, get away from there."

"Kacchan, I'm scared." He whispered. Katsuki gritted his teeth and slowly—so slowly—crept onto the bridge. As soon as his foot made contact, the world went fuzzy.

Now they were on a roof. Katsuki glanced around—Aldera? Why were they on the roof of Aldera? He looked back at Deku and froze. He was perched on the ledge, facing away from him. "DEKU. Get the fuck away from there." He snapped, panicking.

"Kacchan?" Deku asked, looking over his shoulder. "Why are you crying?" He turned around but didn't step down.

"Deku, please." He reached out. "Get down from there."

"But I'm tired, Kacchan. Isn't this what you wanted?" He asked, before leaning back.

"Deku!" He screamed, blasting forward and reaching out—clutching the nerd's shitty middle school uniform in tight fists. The world blurred again as they fell together.

They were on a battlefield, and Katsuki clutched Deku tightly. His body was riddled with holes and he spluttered as he choked on his blood. "Kacchan?"

"Don't talk, goddamnit." He snarled, pressing hands futilely against his gaping wounds.

"Gotta. No time. Tell mom I'm sorry."

"Tell her yourself, shithead."

"I need you to do something."

"Stop. Talking."

"Take One For All. I need you to take it."

"Fuck you."

"Kacchan, please." He gasped. "No time."

And the asshole was right. He could feel Deku's pulse slowing. His eyes were dimming. "How?"

Deku lifted a ravaged arm to slide his bloodied hand into Katsuki's hair, and pulled him down for a kiss filled with blood and gravel. "Glad I got to do that. Love you, y'know." He went limp in Katsuki's arms.

Katsuki woke up screaming.

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

The next five days were hard. He hadn't counted on how difficult it would be to see his classmates crying over Deku's broken body. The first group to visit, much to his surprise and relief, was not Deku's inner circle. He didn't think he was ready for that. Instead, he brought Aoyama, Tsu, Sato, Shoji, and Sero to see him first. He supposed that was just because they'd been in the common room when the signup sheet had been posted. So had Hagakure, Yaomomo, and Shinso who had put down Mirio's name. Their group went on the second day.

"No matter what happens, I'm proud to have you as a friend, mon ami." Aoyama had sobbed.

"You're so strong, ribbit. It seems ridiculous to say goodbye when it feels like you're around every corner." Tsuyu croaked. "So do us all a favor and hang on."

"You should come back now." Sato cried quietly. "But if you have to go, don't worry. Bakugou's been taking good care of your mom, and we'll take good care of him." His breath hitched. "But you should come back. If you do, I'll make you that matcha and lavender roll cake I was telling you about."

Shoji was quiet and morose. "I'm sorry this happened to you." There wasn't much more for him to say.

"Katsuki hasn't said goodbye yet, so neither will I." Sero admitted softly, brushing Izuku's hair back. "He's scared, but I can tell he hasn't really given up. So as long as he's got hope, I will too. You want to be the symbol of hope, right?" Katsuki didn't look at him the whole walk back to the dorm.

When they arrived, Sato planted himself back in the kitchen, and a small group congregated in the common room to wait for Katsuki so that they could go to the Midoriya's to help tidy. "Bring your homework, Kat." Mina instructed. "We'll clean while you work. You've been losing valuable study time at the hospital."

"I'm supposed to be helping you guys clean up." He argued.

"No." She put her foot down. "We'll tidy. You study. If we have questions about where something is supposed to go, we'll ask." Katsuki looked like he was going to argue, but Mina actually stomped her foot. "I'm not taking no for an answer. Let us help you." He sighed but conceded. When they arrived, he excused himself to Izuku's nerdy All Might shrine of a bedroom, sat at his crowded desk, and tried not to cry as he did the homework for Ectoplasm's class. He didn't succeed, and Mina found him curled in Izuku's bed, sobbing into his pillow.

The next day wasn't any easier, but at least they wouldn't be going to Auntie Inko's that evening. Nonetheless, he listened diligently to his classmates as they spoke to Izuku's prone body.

"We're still looking, Midoriya." He heard Shinso whisper. "If there's something to find, I swear we'll find it. We're not gonna let you go without a fight. Not when you've fought so hard for us."

"We decided not to bring Eri, or that kid you saved at your training camp. We thought this might be too hard for them. Eri especially, since she'd feel bad for not being able to use her quirk to help. She's just not in control enough." Mirio smiled. "You and I both know you wouldn't want her to be upset about something she can't control. But this still sucks. I hope you wake up, buddy. We miss you already."

"You're our lynchpin, Izuku." Hagakure whispered to him. "We'll fall apart without you. We already are." He didn't have to see her to know that she was a wreck. "Please come back. Please."

To his surprise, Momo was angry. It was a quiet sort of anger, but it was anger nonetheless. "I thought you were gonna be number one, Izuku." She hissed, pressing her palms into her eyes. "How are any of us supposed to survive if you can't? You really want Katsuki to be the one we look to for inspiration? We'll all be screaming expletives at victims within a month."

"Hey!" he interrupted, affronted. She gave him a very dry and irritated glance.

"I'm not wrong. He needs to come back. He's the balancing act. The calm to your storm. Iida and I might be the class reps, but when shit hits the fan, it's you two that we look to. We need both of you or else we're all gonna go off the rails." She turned her gaze back to Izuku. "I know I'm supposed to be proper and polite, but this is ridiculous. Get the fuck up. Please get the fuck up."

It was quiet with the first two groups. They huddled around his bed and cried. They offered Auntie Inko their support and hugged Katsuki's parents. They brought flowers and carried the meals that Sato had prepared. Tsu and Momo attended to Katsuki, holding his hand under the guise of needing his support, while knowing that it was the other way around. Katsuki remained strong-jawed and dry-eyed throughout. Only Tsu and Momo knew how his hands shook as he stood at Deku's bedside.

With the first two groups, he had time to check on Auntie Inko as they spoke to her son. "How are you holding up, Auntie?"

She gave him a tearful smile. "Not great. But you're taking such good care of me, so better than I could have hoped." She admitted. "Thank you for dinner, Katsuki."

He shook his head. "Sato made dinner." Her smile turned knowing.

"Because you said that you were going to, right? How else would he have known what to make?" She placed a trembling hand on his cheek. "You've been so strong over the past month. Are you taking care of yourself, too?"

He looked down at his feet. "Trying to. I have some help." She smiled a little wider.

"That's good, sweetheart. We all need help sometimes. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like you've been here for me. And I'm sorry for asking you to keep it from them. I just—"

"I get it." He interrupted. "He's your son. You need me more. And don't feel bad about not telling them. Focus on him. Don't worry, Auntie—they're taking care of me," he promised. She pulled him in for a hug, and he reminded himself not to cry.

"You're a good boy, Katsuki. You're bad at expressing yourself, but you're so good. Don't forget it, sweetheart."

He pulled away, looking into her teary eyes. He wished he could blame hyperactive Midoriya tear ducts this time. "I actually—tomorrow Izuku's closest friends will be here. We're not super friendly with each other, and I don't want to intrude on their time with him. Do you mind if I wait outside while they're in here?"

"Of course not, Katsuki. You do what feels right. I can keep it together for their visit if you need to excuse yourself." She smiled sadly. "You don't need to do it alone."

He looked back down at the floor. "Thanks, Auntie."

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

As planned, they went to his parents' house that evening. He studied while his friends tidied up. Before they made their way back to the dorms, Katsuki pulled a shoebox out from under his bed.

"What's in there, Bakubro?" Eijirou asked as they walked.

"Memories." He replied. Eijirou eyed him.

"Wanna share them with us when we get back? Might make you feel better."

"...Sure."

And he did. His friends brought dinner to his room and bundled in blankets for show-and-tell. He showed them the pictures that his parents had taken of them over the years, from their wild adventures as toddlers in All Might onesies to the uncomfortable photo evidence of middle school "family" dinners. Even when things were strained, Izuku had been in his orbit.

He showed them the little gifts Izuku had given him over the years—at least the ones that fit in the box. That included a limited edition All Might keychain, a "World's Spiciest Recipes" cookbook, and a bookmark with a pressed and preserved leaf—the leaf from a tree on one of Katsuki's favorite hiking trails.

Throughout the evening, Katsuki's heart ached with impending loss. Nobody knew him better than Izuku.

"What's that?" Mina asked, pointing at the folded notepaper in the corner of the box. He sniffed, and wiped at his eyes. He didn't even remember when he started crying. Maybe around the time they'd looked at Christmas pictures.

He unfolded the notes carefully. They were worn and old, yellowing around the edges. "His very first analysis of my quirk. 'S where I got the idea for my hero costume. He's the one that came up with the gauntlets," he admitted, flattening the pages gently before handing them over. The handwriting and accompanying sketch were messy—they'd been done by a six-year-old—but they were detailed and precious.

"He would have been a kick-ass quirk analyst if he wasn't a hero," Hanta muttered, reading over his shoulder. "Those notebooks of his are insane. He came up with so many applications for my quirk in our first year, I'm still learning how to make most of his ideas work."

"He's the one that figured out how to increase my voltage without short-circuiting my brain." Denki smiled.

Mina cackled. "He's the one who figured out that I could make LSD if I ate certain grains!" They all laughed at that and oh it felt good to laugh.

"He's helping me design more versatile support gear with Hatsume." Jirou added, before pausing. "Oh. We should invite Hatsume to come with us to the hospital. We only have four people in our group." She said quietly. "He's one of her only real friends. I'm pretty sure he's the one who makes sure she's taking breaks and eating regularly when she gets all scary about her inventions."

They were quiet again. "Anyone have her number?" Katsuki grunted.

"I don't have her number, but I have some time to stop by her lab tomorrow." Jirou offered. "Our group is going the day after, so that gives her some time to shift plans around."

"Okay."

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

He led the third group—Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Koda—to Deku's hospital room, but didn't enter with them. "You're not coming in, Bakugou?" Tokoyami asked, voice deep and brows serious.

"Those three need time with him. They're so pissed at me that if I'm in the room, I'll be the only thing they focus on." He muttered. "Auntie already knows I'm not coming in. I'm gonna be in the cafeteria doing some homework. Come find me when you're ready to leave."

Koda frowned, before bringing his hands up to sign at him. 'Are you sure?' the timid boy asked. 'You should spend as much time with him as you can.'

"I've got a month on you guys. And I'll see him tomorrow. Don't worry about it. Thanks, though." He replied before turning to leave. He missed the look that Tokoyami and Koda shared.

The reception staff smiled warmly at him as he passed. "You're not staying with your friends, honey?" One of Izuku's nurses—Yui, if he remembered correctly (he wasn't exactly good with names)—asked as he passed her in the hall.

"Homework. Gonna work in the cafeteria so that his friends can have some privacy and I can play catch up." He muttered.

"Aw honey, that's so thoughtful," she simpered. She dug in her pockets before handing him a little white card. "It's my employee card for the cafe. Get yourself some coffee and a snack. Just leave the card on Midoriya's bedside before you leave."

He frowned. "I can't accept this."

"You can, and you will. Don't think I haven't noticed you running yourself ragged taking care of your family, young man. It's very admirable. Let me do something for you in turn."

"You already are. You're keeping him alive as long as possible."

"And if he wakes up, I bet he'll be pissed if you're all skinny and malnourished." She replied stubbornly. "Just take the meal card."

He sighed. "Fine. Thank you."

"No sweat." She smiled, before sweeping away from him.

He bought himself a coffee and a curry bun before settling into one of the hellishly uncomfortable cafeteria chairs. All of his teachers had given him extensions, but he was loathe to use them. The longer he put off his work, the harder he'd have to slog in order to catch up.

He jolted when Tokoyami and Koda scraped chairs up next to him and took their seats. "You're done already?"

"We asked the other three if we could go first so that they could have alone time with Midoriya. They agreed. In fact, they seemed grateful." Tokoyami replied. "We thought we'd see if you need any help catching up. You're not far behind, but your mind hasn't been on academia of late."

He knew what they were doing. "You know I'm capable of being alone, right? I'm not gonna spontaneously combust or some shit. You should be taking advantage of your time with him."

'We'll do that when he wakes up.' Koda signed, jaw set stubbornly. 'Besides, you're doing a lot. The least we can do is help you stay caught up to the class.'

"After all, Midoriya will need tutoring when he returns."

What if he doesn't return? Katsuki wanted to ask. But they seemed to be stubbornly refusing the very high likelihood that Izuku was going to die, and Katsuki supposed he could let them have that for now. "Fine. Can you look over my outline for Cementoss's class? I haven't read the whole book yet but the test is next week."

"Sure." Tokoyami agreed, taking the notebook from him.

'Anything I can help with?' Koda asked.

"I'm stuck on the math homework." He admitted. Koda gestured for him to show him, and they got to work. They set up a steady rhythm, where Koda helped coach Katsuki through the problems while Tokoyami read through his Lit outlines and made notes. Time passed faster than he expected, and he was grateful for the distraction.

He was not grateful for what happened next.

"Katsuki—" It was Nurse Yui. He got the impression that she would have been running if it weren't against hospital policy. "Your classmates had to be escorted out by security. Mrs. Midoriya and your parents are really upset."

"What happened?" He demanded, jumping up.

"I'm not sure. I wasn't in the room, I just got there after your mom pressed the nurse call and asked me to get security. Mrs. Midoriya was nonverbal." Behind them, Koda and Tokoyami were packing his bag for him. He glanced at his phone and frowned at the time. It had already been two hours?

"I need to go check on our parents and find out what happened." He said, turning to them. Tokoyami handed him his bag.

"I'll go back and find out what happened from those three. Then I'll let Aizawa know that there was an incident. Koda, you stay behind with Bakugou and find out what happened from his parents' perspective. We're relatively neutral parties, so we'll be able to sort out what happened more calmly."

'Will do. Get going.' Koda instructed before turning to follow Katsuki who was already moving, following swiftly after Nurse Yui.

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

Katsuki was pissed. It almost felt good. He'd been so depressed about the nerd, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel this kind of blinding fury. Beside him, Koda was pissed as well, and that felt good too. At least he knew he was justified.

'Go to the gym and blow something up. It's fine that you're pissed, but at this rate you'll blow up the dorm and you don't need to deal with that right now. I'll tell Aizawa what happened and send Kirishima your way.'

"I'm gonna rip them a fucking new one. You're nuts if you think I'm gonna let them off easy for this shit."

'Good. Don't. I might even yell at them,' he glowered. 'But before you go off you need to let off some steam. You don't need to deal with damage liability on top of everything else.'

He made a good point. "Send Ponytail too. She can make dummies that look like their stupid fucking faces for me to blow up," he snarled. Koda flashed him a thumbs up before splitting off from him to find Aizawa.

Momo and Eijirou found him in record time, and Momo didn't even hesitate before making the dummies he requested. "Wanna tell us what went down? Koda just told us where to find you and dipped to find Aizawa." Eijirou said as he helped set up the dummies around the gym.

"Tokoyami looked angry when he got back," Momo added.

He didn't look at them. His eyes were trained on the dummy-doppelgangers; glare fierce and furious. "They wanted to stay past their welcome. They'd been there for two hours and Auntie told them that she'd like to have time alone with Deku, but they hounded her to let them stay. Eventually, my mom tried to step in to put her foot down and they went off at her." He gritted his teeth, jaw grinding in anger. "Said it was her son's fault that they hadn't gotten to see Deku during the time that he was dying and that it was unfair that they'd kept the people who cared about him from seeing him. Auntie started crying and the hag called the nurse and told them that they were upsetting her, so if they didn't leave she'd call security to escort them out. Apparently, that set Icy Hot off, and he said they said that she was 'as malicious and selfish as her son' and yelled at auntie for not being able to see that we were keeping out people we didn't approve of by making her dependent on them. So when the nurse got there, Ma had her call security to drag them out. The hospital might not let the rest of the class visit after that episode. Auntie might not want the rest of the class to visit."

It was quiet for a long, pregnant moment. Then there was a series of loud thunks. Both boys turned to Momo and found her producing more copies of the training dummies. "That should be enough. Stay here until they're all destroyed." She instructed before turning and stomping out of the gym, ponytail swishing violently behind her.

"Where are you going?" Eijirou called after her.

"I didn't punch Iida hard enough last time!" She called back before disappearing through the doors.

Read the rest on Ao3!

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[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part IV

A Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any oneshot ideas or opinions on how this should continue!

In their bedroom that night, Jens had a whole roll of parchment full of ideas. Robbe fell asleep first on the common room couch after Hufflepuff’s party, and meandered to his room at three AM to find Jens awaiting him on the windowsill. Aaron, conked out, had pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut and cast a few silencing charms for privacy.

“Muffliato,” Robbe cast under his breath, just in case. Aaron wasn’t the greatest at Charms.

“I was supposed to patrol tonight,” Robbe told Jens. “Did Jana go alone?”

Jens nodded. “She said you would’ve lost her anyway, whatever that means.”

“You’re talking again?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Okay, here, look at this…” Jens smacked down his parchment on the little floor space they had in their bedroom. Each little segment of dormitory housed four boys with their beds in a circle around the heater in the middle. While Jens, Robbe, and Aaron didn’t have a fourth shoved in with them, the fourth bed’s curtains were also closed. Robbe assumed it was Moyo staying over after the party. Their copious belongings covered most available surfaces: books piled up next to bedspreads, clothing strewn over trunks, candy wrappers overflowing from trash bins.

“I think you have to dial it up,” Jens explained. He flattened the parchment until Robbe could kind of read his sloping cursive. The title at the top of the page was scribbled out, replaced with the words Operation Ditch-Noor. “Noor seems more persistent.”

Robbe thought back on their conversation. It made his head hurt to think. “She’s done.”

“Didn’t seem it today. How much did you drink?”

“I can read it,” said Robbe. He, in fact, could not read it. Why did Jens have to write everything in cursive?

The party itself had gone by pretty smoothly, from what he could piece together at the moment. Sander turned on music from his player, an upbeat song called Rebel Rebel, and had everyone spinning in circles on the common room carpet. Robbe didn’t remember kissing Sander at all. He remembered taking a cupful of punch from Aaron and not asking about its alcohol content. The girls left early to go console Zoë on the loss, and he’d woken up with a blanket that he didn’t have when he fell asleep.

Actually, that was a pretty solid outline considering the circumstances. Good on Robbe.

Jens gave Robbe a minute to puzzle through the spirals on the parchment. If he looked at it sideways, it might be a picture of a big black dog.

“Thoughts?” said Jens. He bumped Robbe’s shoulder with his own. Robbe looked around. When did they sit on the floor?

“Good,” he said.

“Good. It was a major oversight on your part, not having a public date in the first week. You’re going to have to compensate now.”

“What?”

Jens sighed. “Like, you have to be twice as convincing. Why am I even friends with you?”

“You’re so smart,” Robbe agreed.

“Is that Robbe?” said the fourth bed. It didn’t sound like Moyo. Moyo’s drunk voice was always deeper than his normal one, full of false bravado, while this one was much lighter. Sure enough, Sander peeked his head out from the curtains. His hair stuck up in all different directions.

Jens got up from the ground and smacked Sander’s arm as Sander tried to reach for Robbe. “You don’t have to trick us. Jeez.” He addressed Robbe again. “He’s been like this all night.”

Sander ignored him. “Come over here,” he said to Robbe. “I haven’t seen you.”

“You saw me,” Robbe said.

“Not a lot.”

“Yeah, so this is the kind of material we need.” Jens pointed at the parchment roll. “Noor’s going to leave you alone.”

“Come here, Robbe.”

Robbe sobered—while Sander didn’t exactly sound serious, there was something more in the way he said those words. What, Robbe couldn’t be sure. He was probably projecting, making the whole thing up.

Sander’s clothing was rumpled, a stain on the collar of his shirt. There were circles around his eyes as if he’d been rubbing them. His perfect hand was just begging to be held—the vision began to blur a little bit on the edges, and Robbe had to blink a few times to make the picture clear again.

This wasn’t real. He was drunk and it wasn’t real. Robbe was hallucinating or something, that’s what it was.

And he didn’t want to sleep with Sander, at least, not yet.

“I am going to be physically ill,” said Jens. “Save this.”

They left the parchment on the floor. Jens climbed into his bed, Robbe into his. Sander left the curtains open on bed four, staring over at where Robbe lay, so Robbe left his own curtains open. Gotta have that line of sight. He knew Sander was drunk as a skunk, but goodness, it felt wonderful to have his attention.

“Goodnight, love,” he called over.

Jens covered his head with a his pillow. "Kill me."

***

Sander was gone when Robbe got up the next day, and just as well, because it was one PM. Robbe’s head hurt like a motherfucker. Good news, though: he could now read the parchment Jens had tacked to the door of their dormitory. Not without pain, but without much struggle. In the bottom left-hand corner, an artsy signature marked that Sander understood the objectives. Sander Driesen. He dotted the i in his last name with a little circle instead of a plain dot.

Robbe speed-read the document to the best of his ability. And panicked. If Sander was following this, they had plans at five today.

He gathered his things and dashed to the shower, careful not to wake up anyone else who might still be sleeping. Aaron seemed to have gone out; his bed was empty. Jens wasn’t visible, and Robbe didn’t think it right to open the bedcurtains to see if he was there. The shower water was freezing cold. Robbe did a little warming spell he thought he remembered and ended up evaporating it all.

He took a very cold shower.

When that was done, he changed into a collared shirt with a sweater overtop and a pair of khaki pants. Casual date outfit, check. Fake date. Couldn’t forget that. He appraised his reflection in the mirror for too long to be considered normal.

There was plenty to do in the span between now and five o’clock—exams were three weeks away and Robbe didn’t know the main ingredients of Amortentia. But he couldn’t bring himself to open the books. It made much more sense to pace around the room.

Of course they’d go on a date. Real relationships would have dates.

And Sander—last night—it was nothing.

Robbe spent a lot of his mental energy convincing himself that things didn’t matter. He spent a little more trying to forget this revelation.

Four forty-five arrived before he could list out all the possible ways a date could go wrong.

The castle was always louder on Saturday afternoons and evenings. With the morning’s hangover remedied, students were free to gossip as they pleased. As Robbe headed down the stairs to the dungeons, where Jens’ note detailed he would meet Sander, he heard no less than four separate conversations that should have been private. Two Gryffindors were having a Wrackspurt problem in their dormitory. Several Slytherins discussed a magical cure for gonorrhea that would not alert Madame Pomfrey to their situation. Yasmina and Zoë attended extra Potions sessions together, and Robbe heard them debating the proper way to skin a human arm for use. Most of interest: Britt and another girl in the final hallway.

“Sander doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Britt lamented. “I don’t think he’s been going to the hospital wing.”

“You don’t know that,” the girl replied, resting a comforting hand on Britt’s back.

Robbe tried to shrink back on himself as he walked by.

Britt wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “And I’m the one that’s gonna be there when it goes to shit.”

Give it up, thought Robbe. He booked it the rest of the way to the Slytherin common room’s entrance.

Sander was waiting beside the door, his back against the stonework. His look today was different than Robbe had ever seen it, a leather jacket and a t-shirt paired with tight black jeans. When he raised a hand to wave at Robbe, the shirt rode up enough to expose a line of pale skin. Robbe felt overdressed in his sweater. Sander shouldn’t think he was taking this too seriously.

“Where are we headed?” Sander asked, as soon as Robbe was within asking range.

Robbe’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were planning it.”

“I've been hungover.” Sander pushed away from the wall. He slipped his hand into Robbe’s, and they headed for the staircase that led out of the dungeons. Usually, only Slytherins used it. “I'm good with whatever. For Britt, obviously. Somewhere she'll see."

The staircase spit them out into the upstairs hallway. Sander brought them outside through the front doors and down into the sprawling lawn. He stopped once his feet hit the grass, and turned to Robbe. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Did Jens give instructions?”

“Jens doesn’t dictate your dating life.”

Robbe frowned. “My fake dating life.”

He hated Sander’s pained expression. “Yeah, exactly.”

Only one way to make Sander smile again, and that was to go somewhere nice. Robbe surveyed the campus. They couldn’t go to Hogsmede today unless they snuck there, and Sander wasn’t in subtle attire. There was the forest, all of those beautiful, towering trees, but there was a fifty percent chance of death if they got too close. The Whomping Willow ruled out a good chunk of grassy lawn. He knew their only option would be to sit by the lake.

Lots of couples sat by the lake. Any fake relationship should feature a date there. It got foot traffic, it was public, it screamed to the world hey, we’re together.

Robbe didn’t bring a blanket. What if he got cold?

What if Sander got cold?

The thought alone of Sander cuddled into his side was enough to drive Robbe to action. He wondered what that said about him as a person.

“The lake,” said Robbe. “We can—um—we can be there.”

“You have something to sit on?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, I counted on it.” Sander reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny square of fabric. With a wave of his wand, it grew into a full-sized picnic blanket in his arms. “Show me where you want to be.”

***

The early evening air, combined with the chill off the lake, had Robbe shivering in no time. He should have brought his coat out with him, but it wasn’t in the best shape, and he worried that mending spells could only keep it alive for so much longer. Best to save it for winter, when things got bad. Sander, on the other hand, had no problem removing his own jacket and sliding it around Robbe’s shoulders. He wrapped one bare arm around Robbe, sliding his hand into Robbe’s back pocket.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Cold,” said Robbe.

“I’ll tell Jens to plan the next one. He seems to like us as a couple.”

Something in Robbe’s stomach fluttered. The possibility of more intoxicated him. He caught himself before the desire became too strong; there had to be more. No convincing fake relationship was just one date.

Dusk crept in along the sky. Many of the other couples gathered their things to attend a Great Hall dinner, the likes of which Robbe had not consumed all week. He willed his stomach not to growl. Their blanket was close enough to the lake that casual waves poked at its edges.

“That’s your friend, isn’t it?” said Sander, pointing toward the castle’s open doors.

Robbe looked over. Zoë and Senne made their way across the lawn with their own picnic blanket and a lumpy knapsack. Behind them was Milan, Zoë’s best friend and Senne’s suitemate. Zoë smiled when she saw Robbe and jogged the remainder of the distance between them, dropping to the grass an inch away from Sander’s blanket.

“Look at you!” She pinched Robbe’s cheek. “Date night, I take it?”

Robbe tried not to look sheepish. “Jens said we should.”

“Mmhm,” said Zoë. She turned her attention to Sander. “Tell me the love story. I need to know.”

“Oh, it’s a great story. Settle in.” Sander adjusted his position. He scooted away from Robbe, then gently tipped backward until his head rested on Robbe’s lap. “Picture this. My ex brought her best friend on one of our dates because she was mad at me. We went to the Three Broomsticks.”

Robbe remembered the Three Broomsticks. Obviously. His cheeks heated. He began twisting sections of Sander’s hair around his fingers, if only to do something with his hands. He knew Zoë just wanted to hear what Sander could think up on the fly.

“Her best friend had a date, too. No problem. I was going to spend the time staring at the wall so I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Except, the date walked in, and it was Robbe here, and I just lost it. I saw him sitting there and I thought, Sander, he is the one.”

Now Robbe was really blushing. He wanted to go vaporous and phase through the ground, if he could just remember the spell…

“I thought I was being dramatic, that I needed to give it some time. But I couldn’t get him off my mind. So I broke up with Britt. She used to complain that he spent all his time up in the astronomy tower instead of patrolling. You bet your ass I went there one night to see if he’d come up. And he did.” Sander shrugged. “The rest is history.” He propped himself up and caught Robbe in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah, you can cut the bullshit.” Zoë turned to check Senne’s progress toward them. He was still a decent distance away. “Robbe told me about this.”

Sander huffed. “I said nothing that wasn’t true.” He kissed Robbe again.

“Yeah, pretty sure none of that was true. But I like the backstory. It’s really good.”

“I think I could make it as a writer,” said Sander.

Robbe assumed the conversation would end there. Zoë and Sander did not seem like the types of people who would have much to say to one another. Unfortunately, Zoë’s prying conversation gave Milan time to catch up.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, upon seeing Sander and Robbe together. He got in close to Zoë for a stage whisper. “So this is Robbe's straight guy!” Zoë shot him a look. “What? is he not straight?”

Sander did not miss a beat, even though a statement like that implied Milan knew the truth of the arrangement. “Bisexual, actually. Or pansexual—I’m still trying to figure that part out.”

“Aren’t we all,” said Milan knowingly. “Don’t fall for Robbe, then.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sander laughed. It sounded more resigned than joking. Something inside of Robbe combusted.

Milan and Senne went off and picked a spot a respectable distance away to study for their exams. Robbe noted in passing that Milan was reading pages much deeper in the Potions textbook than he had learned. He hadn’t been to a class since he started fake-dating Sander.

Zoë flashed an apologetic smile. “I didn’t tell him you were straight. Don’t know where he got that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sander.

“And I didn’t mean to tell him the relationship was fake either, he was just so excited—”

“As long as it doesn’t get to Britt or Noor, we’re fine.”

“Robbe, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Robbe lied.

There were pleasantries afterward, although Robbe didn’t catch the specifics. He had other things to process. Sander talking about how they met—it all felt so real. Robbe found himself in a booth at the Three Broomsticks again, watching Sander take slow sips from his drink. He was in his four-poster bed while Sander slept, the curtains open so they could see each other in the dark.

He stepped on the emotion. Sander said he wouldn’t dream of falling in love with him.

Zoë went off to sit with her best friend and boyfriend, leaving space for Robbe and Sander’s date to begin. Where to begin? Number one: Sander would never fall in love with him because this was all fake. In tandem with Noor’s premonition last night, Robbe suddenly felt like he’d much rather be back inside the castle. In his bed. With the curtains pulled this time.

A headache could get him out of here. An urgent need to throw up? Maybe a mysterious summons from Jens. He needed to remember the charm that let him disappear.

Number two, back to Sander. He had wrapped his arms around his head, exposing that same patch of stomach. A line of black ink that might be a word traced the line of his hipbone down.

“Robbe?” Sander waved a hand in front of Robbe’s face.

Robbe blinked. “Huh?”

“Have you been hearing me?”

“Um,” said Robbe.

“You’re pulling my hair.”

Robbe moved his hands away. His mind was a mess of different thoughts—what would he tell the boys about this? It wasn’t fucking real. And Sander’s head was in his lap right now. He should have seen this coming before… no, he had seen this coming.

“Don’t stop,” said Sander softly. “Just… lighter.”

Robbe ran his hand through Sander’s hair. Lighter. A confession dangled on the tip of his tongue and he needed to push it back down.

“Some of what you said was true,” he said. He hoped Sander could draw the connection across conversations and realize he meant what Sander had said to Zoë, not Milan.

Sander understood. “Most of it was true.”

They waited a moment, listening to the soft waves on the lake and the bustle of other couples nearby.

“Right,” said Sander. “You’ve taken me on a date. The least you can do is tell me something nice.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Do you need Jens to write your speeches too?”

Robbe shied away from the vulnerability angle this time. Sander wouldn’t have any use for the information four weeks from now when exams were over. He marveled over how soft Sander’s hair was between his fingers, despite the fact that the ends were dry and dead from the bleach. “My father was the cook of the family,” he said. Something personal, but not intimate. “He had this recipe for blood sausage that had so many spices my mother could never stomach it. We would bring it to dinner parties when we didn’t like the people. It was funny to watch them try and compliment it during the meal when they clearly hated every last bite.” This was the story’s happier conclusion. Its actual conclusion was that his father took all the recipe cards when he walked out, and Robbe didn’t know the ingredients even though his father promised he’d get them when he turned sixteen.

“Tell me something nice.” He poked Sander.

“I don’t know if what you said constitutes nice,” said Sander. He reached up and ran a finger across Robbe’s chin. But he went on. “There’s this lady where I work over the summer that brings me David Bowie albums. She gets so excited every time she finds a new one in a garage sale somewhere, or at store, and I can’t tell her that I already own the albums already. I have five copies of Space Oddity.”

Robbe didn’t know who David Bowie was.

Another lapse into silence. Sander never seemed to mind a comfortable quiet. He guided Robbe’s head down to his for a simple kiss, but he left his eyes open, and Robbe could follow his sightline to Noor and Britt as they walked back to the castle from who-knows-where.

“Tell me something secret,” said Robbe. This much time without something on his mind could be seriously painful. “I went first last time.”

He kind of wanted Sander to refuse.

“I don’t have any secrets, Robbe.”

“You must have one.”

“Do you?”

Robbe shook his head quicker than he should have. He tried to sound as casual as possible when he said, “I’m an open book,” but he doubted it did any good.

The thing was, it was totally believable that Sander wouldn’t have any secrets. This was the boy who announced his sexuality to a friend of a friend that he didn’t even know. This was the boy who saw someone else in the astronomy tower, unloaded his relationship woes, and promptly kissed said someone else to get away from them. What did he have to hide, besides this relationship? What could someone like him possibly have to hide?

The dying day faded everything out into a stained-glass image that could take up the wall of a Hogwarts bathroom. Robbe let himself relax until his surroundings were no more than shapes and colors, pushing everything from his mind until he could barely process his hands running through Sander’s hair. The thoughts surfaced anyway. He was going to have to tell the boys about this, eventually, and maybe even Sander himself, if that was possible. Even now, his skin was electrified from contact.

So much for pushing back the sexuality crisis. It had to happen today.

“It is kind of nerve-wracking, all these people to convince,” Sander said, out of the blue. “I don’t even know who that guy is.” He pointed vaguely at Milan. “But right here, with us, this is okay. It’s just me. That’s my secret.”

That’s exactly the problem, thought Robbe. It’s just you. And I’m falling in love with you.

He said, “That’s a cop-out. Tell me something else.”

[oikawaplssteponme]

The Apartment: part 4

▪️part 1

▪️part 2

▪️part 3

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing, a little suggestive at times but nothing bad

synopsis: You knew that living with your three best friends, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto, would be a wild ride. It’s never a dull moment with those three. Let’s just hope you can keep your huge crush on Kuroo a secret when he is only a room away.

a/n: hi friends💕 i had a lot of fun writing this part so i hope you guys like it :)) the taglist is still open so just lmk if you’d like to be added and so are my requests/asks, so don’t be shy and say hi✨ enjoy xx

•

Four: maid outfit

You laid on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. It was far too late for you to be up yet here you were. Not only was the couch uncomfortable, but your head was filled with thoughts that you’d rather not think. You kept thinking about Kuroo. Maybe if you would have just told him that you liked him, he would’ve reacted differently. Or he would have reacted just the same, making you feel worse.

You were stuck in the friendzone. Except the friendzone was quicksand, and you felt there was no possible way out. The air vent blew down on you. You hugged your blanket close to you. You couldn’t understand why you felt like this. It wasn’t like you were planning on telling Kuroo anyway. You said yourself its better to keep things the way they are, so why did you feel so upset? Maybe your feelings for Kuroo were a bit more than a longing crush.

You flipped onto your side, once again regretting your decision to sleep on the couch. Suddenly, you heard footsteps heading for a door. You were surprised someone could be awake at this hour, since everyone had gone to bed way before you. You heard a door open, so you shut your eyes pretending to be asleep. You felt their presence get closer to you. Then you felt what you presumed to be a second blanket, lay on top of you. The footsteps started to move back to their room. You peaked your eyes open, and saw Kuroo, slowly walk back into his room.

~

“Y/N-CHAN!” You were suddenly awoken by a loud voice next to your ear. You jolted up from the couch, causing you to fall onto the floor, still wrapped up in not one, but two blankets.

“Y/N get off the floor. I need you to answer my question,” said Bokuto. You sat up from your fall looking at Bokuto with evil eyes.

“Bokuto I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but screaming in someone’s ear is NOT the proper way to wake them up,” you growled, rubbing the back of your head. Bokuto rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Anyway, back to my question,” he said.

“If you didn’t notice dumbass, you asked your question when I was asleep so I didn’t hear you.”

“Okay so I’m going with Akaashi to his writers conference next week and do you think I should pack an extra bag just for snacks or will we buy them along the way? Because sometimes I pack them and then Akaashi says-“

“Bokuto, why on earth would Akaashi bring you to a writers conference?”

“Obviously to keep him company, come on Y/N, keep up with me here.” You groaned and stood up to be look at Bokuto.

“Pack the snacks, we all know you’ll end up eating more than less,” you said, patting his shoulder.

“That’s what Kuroo said too but I don’t trust his opinion.”

Your heart dropped. Right. Kuroo.

“Is- uh- Kuroo awake?” You asked.

“Yeah but he’s having a meeting with his Chemistry professor,” explained Bokuto. You let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the events from last night came to mind.

“Wait...is Oikawa awake?” Bokuto looked at you nervously.

“No…”

“Bokuto?”

“He’s in his room,” he muttered. You clenched your fists. You stormed over to your room.

“TORU IM GONNA BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU!”

You slammed open your door to see Oikawa laying on his bed, using his endless amounts of pillows as shields from your wrath.

“Y/N, my dearest love, let’s be rational here,” he pleaded.

You charged over to him, jumping on his bed and pinned him down.

“Y/N if you wanted to get down and dirty all you had to do was-“

“Oh shut up. You are so lucky that Iwaizumi was here last night or else I would’ve kicked your ass.”

“I know you’re trying to sound threatening but honestly you just sound hor-“

“TORU!” Oikawa sealed his lips together.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You asked. Oikawa gave you a sarcastic thinking face.

“Hmmm are we talking about the PG stuff that happened or the PG-13 content that occurred after the party-“

“Oh my god why do I even bother with you.” You let go of Oikawa and he sat up to face you.

“I have a horrible feeling that you’re talking about my big mouth from yesterday,” he whispered.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about shithead.”

“It is way too early for such vulgar names Y/N.”

“Oikawa!” You were slowly losing your patience.

“Okay okay, yes maybe I slipped up a little. But hey, I gave you a good excuse to confess to Kuroo, so all is well.” You could feel the smoke coming from your ears.

“No it’s not because he turned me down last night!” Oikawa’s eyes grew.

“He did what?”

“Yeah he basically friendzone me. Badly.” you explained.

“Oh shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Maybe he will change his mind,” said Oikawa. You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I don’t know Toru, I feel like it’s never gonna happen.” You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. You heard a heavy sigh and you looked over to the doorway and saw Bokuto standing there with a frown.

“If Kuroo doesn’t like you then he’s just an idiot,” said Bokuto. He walked over and sat with you and Oikawa.

“Great now everyone knows I like Kuroo,” you joked.

“Well it’s not like you’ve liked him your whole life or anything,” said Bokuto. You looked over at him with widened eyes.

“You’ve always known I liked Kuroo?”

“Yeah I thought we all did. That’s why last night I didn’t see the big deal. I think Kuroo’s just too dumb to see that the answers right in front of him,” explained Bokuto. You gave him a playful push.

“Bokuto! Did you ever say anything to him about me?”

“No, why would I? Unlike some people I can keep my mouth shut...for the most part,” he looked over at Oikawa. Oikawa groaned.

“Okay well since we are all on the same page, we gotta make a plan to get Kuroo and Y/N together,” said Oikawa.

“I mean you two will be the only ones home next week, so try to do something then,” suggested Bokuto.

That’s right, you and Kuroo will be the only ones in the apartment next week. Bokuto will be with Akaashi and Oikawa is taking a mini vacation with Iwaizumi.

“Guys its gonna be so awkward with just me and him,” you pouted.

“Y/N you have to make an effort or else you’re gonna lose the nerd to some other bitch,” said Oikawa. Again, he was right.

“Fine fine. But what would I even do?”

“Walk around the apartment in a maid outfit,” blurted out Bokuto. You slapped his arm as Oikawa laughed.

“Wait, that's actually a good idea,” giggled Oikawa.

“I am not gonna seduce him with a fucking maid outfit,” you said firmly. Oikawa sighed.

“Well unless you have a better idea, I think we should head over to Party City and-“

“NOT HAPPENING!” You interrupted.

“This might be a crazy idea but you could just TELL HIM YOU LIKE HIM!” said Bokuto sarcastically. Your face got warm.

“But-but-“

“No buts Y/N. When Oikawa and I come back, I expect some progress to have been made,” huffed Bokuto. You sighed.

“I’ll do my best,” you muttered. Bokuto wrapped his arm around you and placed a friendly kiss on your head.

“And hey, if he rejects you again, it’s not like things could get any more awkward,” he smiled. You laughed and hugged him back.

“Woah what’s going on in here? An intervention?” said Kuroo, standing at the doorway. You didn’t even hear him enter the apartment, let alone your room.

“Shit Kuroo, you scared me,” you said.

“Uh how long have you been standing there?” asked Oikawa.

“Maybe a few seconds. Don’t worry I didn’t hear any of your top secret conversation,” Kuroo smiled. The three of you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god,” you muttered.

“I brought lunch if you guys want some.” Kuroo held a bag of takeout food. The three of you jumped up from Oikawa’s bed and rushed over to him.

The four of you sat at the table and ate your lunch. You kept looking at Kuroo, trying to think of anything you could do to possibly get him to like you back. In the past, a whole week alone with him wouldn’t have seemed so scary. But now that your crush on him was on high gear, you needed to control yourself. It’s not like you could make matters worse.

Right?

•

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @lilnuances @nerdybreadcollaborative @cloudswritings @foxyyychan @tamaguchi @jessie9008 @bitandbytes @yeehawnana @166cm @bigchaosenergy @tumbledor3 @captain-janeway (if your name is in bold that means i couldn’t tag you)]

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Judge You Not (Blue-Black Arrogant Prick)

Judgement Oneshots (Book 1 Murtagh and Brom Centric Stories): Judge Me Not //  JUDGE YOU NOT

(A/N: A bit of a time jump continuation from Judge Me Not, we get some more interaction between Murtagh and Brom with Arya thrown in the mix. The secondary title is explained in the story.)

~~~

Murtagh rolled over, trying to find that one, inexplicably comfortable yet contorted position that would finally let him sleep. He was tired, very tired, after the headlong rush across the Hadarac and had been looking forward to the rest their hard won lead would bring.

But after at least a week and a half of traveling by night and sleeping by day, suddenly becoming diurnal again was not as easy as he had hoped.

He rolled over once more, mentally grumbling to himself when he saw that Eragon was sound asleep. The boy was tucked up next to Saphira, two thirds of his body under her wing and his head resting on a pile of unused clothes and blankets. He looked quite comfortable, his mouth open slightly and even a bit of drool on the side of his face.

Murtagh sat up, suddenly realizing that Arya was no longer stretched out near Saphira’s foreleg where she had previously laid down to sleep. The blanket was still there, but neither the elf nor her combat-jacket-turned-pillow were to be seen.

“–rather not go there so soon. I’ve only been able to teach them how to survive, and I’ve been having a tough time doing even that.” Murtagh whipped his head around as Brom’s rough whisper reached his ears. Two dim silhouettes sat on the short, rocky protrusion that hid their camp, keeping watch over the landscape. “Eragon has the uncanny ability to get into trouble the moment he moves more than fifty yards from Saphira. If we went to the forest now, they’d laugh at all of us.”

A light scoff sounded as the slimmer of the two figures shifted, pulling a leg up to their chest. “No, they’d sing praises to Saphira and pat you on the head for trying your hardest. Eragon would need a bit more work before they would go crazy for him, but they’d still clap politely, I’m sure.”

“…You’re probably right.”

“Yeah, well, I know my people. Always gotta be polite and proper in the pines.”

Murtagh grabbed his rifle and slung the strap across his chest before clambering up the rocks. Both Brom and Arya turned to him as he heaved himself over the edge.

“Can’t sleep.” He said at their questioning gazes. “Bloody body clock is shot to hell. Mind if I join you?”

Brom gestured with his unlit pipe to an open patch of stone. “Sit yourself down, then.” They arranged themselves in a roughly triangular position, each able to take in a section of the area while also carrying on polite conversation.

But, knowing the three distinct personalities arrayed before them, polite conversation wasn’t likely to happen.

In the quiet that followed, Murtagh became increasingly aware that Arya was studying him with a disturbing intensity. Her eyes flicked over his face, darting from one feature to the next, and he subconsciously leaned back a bit.

“…What?” Murtagh leaned back a little more, finally breaking the silence. “Oi, I know you’re taken in by all this–” he extravagantly gestured to his face and body with both hands, hiding how unsettled he was with his usual sassy smugness, “–like the other ladies, but no need to try and devour me with your eyes, lass.”

Still intent on examining him the elf responded offhandedly, “Don’t flatter yourself. And what did I tell you about calling me that?” Before Murtagh could protectively grab his rifle to prevent the magazine from being shoved up his nose, Arya suddenly sat bolt upright and snapped her fingers. “Got it!” She looked to Brom, a slight frown on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Brom grunted, clamping his teeth on his pipe stem. With the amount of chomping the old man did on it, Murtagh wouldn’t be surprised if it had some magic worked into the wood to prevent it from splintering.

“What’s going on?” Murtagh crossed his arms. He didn’t like it when the two elder members of their little group shared secrets or their weird little nonverbal signals. “If it involves me, I have a right–”

Arya cut him off and pointed to his right eye. “Blue.” Then his left. “Black.” Her lip twitched into a surprisingly fierce snarl. “Arrogant, psychopathic, warmongering, traitorous, race-murdering PRICK.”

Brom let out an uncharacteristic snort, pulling his pipe out of his mouth. Murtagh realized it was a choked off laugh, and scowled at him. “Why is it that everyone only remembers my father, huh? He’s dead. Let me live my life, not his.”

“I wasn’t laughing at that. I’ve just never heard the bastard described so…simply.” Brom chuckled again. “I’m surprised it took you this long, Arya.”

“It’s not like I shook Morzan’s hand and got to know him as well as you bloody did.” Arya tossed her braid over her shoulder and clasped her hands together, her anger fading. “Besides, I never thought he’d have a son.” She regarded the aforementioned offspring with one of her signature blank expressions, eyes searching his face again. “His mother must have been the Black Hand, wasn’t she, Brom? You must have known.”

Just like before, Brom shifted slightly at the mention of Murtagh’s mother, a strange light flashing through his startling blue eyes. It was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, though, and the old man gave an affirmative grunt.

“Oi!” Murtagh snapped, rage starting to bubble in his gut. He could feel the vein on his forehead starting to stand out, and that made him even angrier. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not even HERE!” Both adults looked to him. “I am not my father’s son! So judge me not by his actions! I am my own man!”

A faint smile touched Arya’s lips, and she nodded. “Aye. Don’t worry, Murtagh. I judge you not by your father but by you alone. Family shouldn’t be the sole point on which someone is judged, especially if they were not raised by them.” The elf knit her fingers together and rested her chin on them, expression again serious. “Your father was a terrible person, and I’m sure out of all of us in Alagaësia, you know that fact better than anyone. But, unlike some children who would turn their rage against the entire world, you have chosen to take your anger and skills and do what you can to fight against what Morzan and Galbatorix wrought. From what I have seen of you, you are a good man, and don’t deserve any prejudgement based on your father’s actions.

“Unless you’re a spy, in which case I’d congratulate you on getting this far, and then promptly kill you.” She flashed him a dangerous, sharp toothed grin.

Brom nodded sagely in agreement, then locked eyes with Murtagh. “Oi. I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully, whelp.” Murtagh’s snarl returned at the old man’s use of his usual, insulting name for him, but Brom put his hands up. “Peace. Just hear me out this one time. I won’t repeat what I’m about to say. Ever.”

He took his pipe from between his lips and rolled it between his fingers before again looking Murtagh in the eye. “You’ve proved yourself quite a bit since you’ve joined us. I can say with confidence that you are not your father’s son, and I knew the bastard since he was younger than you are now. You have a sense of morality and sound judgement that he never had, even if your justifications for that judgement are usually driven by your survival code.” Murtagh’s scowl fell. As Brom spoke, the young man’s expression turned from one of red-faced frustration to disbelief, his mouth slightly open as the old man pointed the stem of his pipe at him. “You’ve been…invaluable, in helping me protect Eragon and Saphira. And you probably saved the Varden by rescuing Arya while at Gil'ead, as she’s the only one who can secure the elves support for the rebellion again.

"What I’m saying is that I judged you prematurely. And I…apologize.”

Murtagh stared at the old Rider, trying to find the words to explain the unexpected welling of emotion in his chest. “Brom, I…I don’t know how to…” He faltered, and resumed gaping at him.

“You can start by closing your mouth.” Brom snapped gruffly. “You’ll catch flies like that, whelp.”

Arya raised her eyebrows and leaned towards him. “I think you broke the poor boy.”

The young man shook himself out of his stupor. “No, no, it’s just…. I figured if I could get you, Brom, of all people, to see that I’m not some demon spawn then I could live my life in peace. And now that you just confirmed it, I can’t. I have to keep fighting the King.”

Brom snorted and stuck his pipe back in his mouth. “Oh, you’re a demon’s spawn, there’s no denying that.” He growled. “You’re just not acting like a demon. Kudos to you, whelp.”

“Lay off him, Brom. You can’t just turn around like that after giving him such a heartfelt speech.” Arya swatted the old man on the arm, to which he grumbled and pushed her.

Murtagh rubbed his face, feeling even more drained after the emotional joyride the two had just put him on. “Bloody children, the both of you.”

Arya smirked. “I’m not the one up past his bedtime.”

The young man threw his hands up. “Alright! Alright, I get it. I’ll try to sleep again.” He stood and moved to start climbing back down to the clearing, then paused. “Thanks for what you said. The both of you.”

“Don’t get all sappy on us.” Brom growled, crossing his arms. “You still have quite a bit of proving to do, whelp.”

“Sure, Brom. Whatever you say.” He smiled, and for a moment Brom saw a flash of bright teeth and dark hair, a laugh echoing in his ears. Then both the memory and Murtagh were gone, the man clambering down the short cliff to collapse on his sleeping bag.

The old Rider blinked, trying to clear his head, and found Arya regarding him with a slightly concerned expression. “Oh, what? Are you going to start telling me what my father looked like now?”

Arya’s light frown did not ease as shook her head, fringes of hair that had escaped her braid flicking about her face. “No. Just thought I saw something.” They lapsed into comfortable silence, once again facing out over the land. A warm, dry breeze wafted through the woods from the nearby Hadarac and brushed over them, carrying the scent of the sands.

“It was hell crossing that.” Brom muttered, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe again and silently lamenting that he couldn’t light it without revealing their position. “But at least we’re nearly to the mountains now. At this pace, another week and a half or two and we’ll be with the Varden.”

Arya hummed softly in agreement, her farseeing eyes picking out the distant campfires of the Urgal party following them. They blazed like bright candles to her sight, and she counted twenty before the camp stretched beyond her vision.

They stayed up for a while longer, talking about this and that and hashing out the possible responses the Varden could have to their arrival. It was an hour before Arya looked up at the sky, noting the new positions of the stars, and said, “You should catch some rest, old man. Your watch is over by my reckoning.”

“You keep calling me old, Arya. I think my physique speaks for itself; I’m still quite spry, thank you very much.” Brom stood and stretched his stiff joints, pointedly ignoring the chorus of pops and crackles that dampened his previous statement as the elf smirked. “I’ll wake Eragon for his watch.”

Arya waved him off. “Leave the kid be. Both he and Saphira have earned their sleep. I can take his watch.”

“Again?” Arya shrugged. “You can’t keep this up. You need to sleep just as much as we do, probably more since you’re still healing.”

“I’m fine, Brom. Really.”

Brom frowned. In the dim light of the stars he could see that she was lying. Her skin had regained its usual tanned tone after trekking through the Hadarac, but over the last day or so she had paled slightly. Despite the cooler temperatures, a slight sheen of sweat was on her brow and she wore her combat jacket zipped all the way up as if she were freezing. “Anything you want to tell me?” She shook her head. “Arya, I can tell when something’s up. Did another wound get infected again?”

“No.” And she added firmly, “I’m fine.”

“If you keep trying to deal with things like this on your–”

“Brom!” The old Rider’s eyes snapped to hers. Arya’s voice had taken on a sharp edge and held an unmistakable ring of authority that, despite the conversation they had held earlier, reminded Brom that some things were hereditary no matter the differences between parent and child. “Leave it. I’ll be fine. We can talk about it later. Just go to sleep.”

He regarded her with a steady gaze, keeping their eyes locked. His suspicions were confirmed when it was Arya who broke contact, looking away from him with her jaw clenched tight. “I hope you’re right. And I hope you will tell me when whatever this is gets worse.” He warned. “Remember what I told Murtagh, Arya. You’re the only one who can get the Queen start supporting the Varden again. So for not just your sake, but the entire damn Varden’s, I hope you’re right.” And he started the short descent back to camp.

Arya let out a breath and looked up at the pale stars. They twinkled above her, smugly winking as if they knew, as she did, that fire was burning in her veins.

The Shade smiled, pointed teeth gleaming. “It won’t kill you right away, little elf. It won’t even start to kill you until I tell it to.” Arya gritted her teeth as the clear fluid in the syringe slid into her wrist and rushed through her bloodstream. “My own modified Skilna Bragh. You know, little elf, if you escape, and you run fast enough, you just might make it to your people or the Varden before it destroys you.” And he winked at her, as if sharing in some private joke.

The elf closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She had to decide. Continue traveling with the others, leading not only the Urgals to the Varden’s doorstep, but Durza as well and probably slowing the group down until she succumbed to the poison in her blood, or try to run to Ceris and deliver a dying declaration that would force the Queen to resume aiding the Varden.

No, she couldn’t do that. It would lead Durza right to the elvish city.

Her last choice was grim. Leave the group at the mouth of the Beartooth River and turn back to the Hadarac. She could slow the Urgals as best she could, and die a warrior’s death. It was preferable than dying of thirst or poison in the hellish sands.

Another swirl of wind flowed from the aforementioned desert. Arya sighed as it ghosted over her skin, her nerves tingling with the first uncomfortable prickles of pain, and looked back to where Brom was kicking his sleeping bag out on the ground. “Yeah, Brom,” She murmured. “I hope so too.”

[fuckingdeadbutroyal]

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 -

“How long has this been going on?”, Damians voice was flat. An outsider would maybe even perceive it as bored, but his brothers heard him. Damian Wayne was horrified. “Five and a half days now, to be precise. We have heard of the earthquake but we didn’t know about the metas. That’s why we’re here, save the citizens and catch the-” “How did we not know of any metas in Paris? Why are we only coming to help them now? Look at this place!”, Nightwing interrupted his father, in Jasons opinion rightfully so. Paris was not what he remembered from the posters and booklets he had seen. The city could have lost WW2 and even then it would probably look better than it currently did. “That’s international matters, we’re not even meant to be here but it got out of control so I asked Red Robin to investigate. Now stop complaining and start working.”, Bruce scolded his adoptives and, leaving no room for further interruption, began giving out orders. Dick, Jason, Stephanie and Damian were on citizen-saving duty, while Tim stayed at the manor and guided them per earpiece. Bruce, Cass, Duke and Barbara were on metawatch™, meant to collect more information on the cause of destruction, aswell as the heroes Tim had mentioned in his report. One final tech-check later the formerly crowded rooftop was deserted and Paris had a new crew of support in form of bat-themed vigilantes.

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

Jason felt...sad. Deeply, desperatly heartbroken. He remembers feeling that way when he first discovered his fathers lack of avenging the death of his second son. But now? Of course, the sight he was currently enduring was horrific. He was sorry it had to come to this, frustrated his hands just weren’t enough to help every Parisian in pain. But that desperation? His inhumane tiredness? The way his whole body just felt numb, as if he were in so much pain his senses just wouldn’t- no couldn’t keep up? He knew it was out of place, his brothers were okay after all. Even Dick, the most emotional one out of his siblings, was much more focused than Jason. He knew it had to do with his soulmate, at least he guessed as much. The thought of them being somewhere in this city, hiding in one of those hyper-secure shelters he had seen while rummaging through the collapsed buildings and pulling out everyone he could find...it was unnerving. Though somehow he knew that that wasn’t the case. 

Upon first taking in the sight of Paris’ ruins Red Hood just knew where he was and what streets he was aiming for. He knew where the shelters were, could guide the civilians towards them and even recognized some of the buidings, even though there was nothing left but dust and dirt. Jason had a gut feeling telling him that all those things weren’t actually his knowledge. It had to be his soulmates. They knew everything he needed to know about the city, they recognized it from above. But one piece of information, which now that Timmy has properly updated them about Paris’ situation should have been absolutely unavoidable, was missing. What do those shelters look like from the inside? 

Why doesn’t his soulmate know?

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

Marinette was on autopilot. It has been four days since her parents death. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten and hasn’t stopped moving. Chat has already collapsed twice, which ended up with her carrying him to one of their recharging-shelters in the water and spending ungodly amounts of time trying to find food and water for him aswell as holding him in place while he slept, hoping to avoid his otherwise certain death by drowning. “What a sad end it would be”, the girl thought to herself, “all that effort, all that pain, and we could just loose it all to a petty accident. Not that there is much left to save...”

She wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but Ladybug, the hero and saviour of Paris, did no longer care about winning. She didn’t think of saving those people who were praying in her name, praying to her. She didn’t believe in god and oh Kwami did she not believe in herself. What she did believe in, though, was revenge. She wanted to kill that dusty bitch, even if it was the last thing she would do. Ladybug didn’t care about the victim. She knew for herself that if she were the one who did this to her beloved City of Love, she could no longer live with herself. She wanted to kill the akuma and even though a voice deep inside her was telling her otherwise, trying to stop her and arguing that this was not what her parents would have wanted, Marinette did not care. She was going to free the petite akuma and then tear it apart with her very own teeth. And guess who’s next? “That’s right, I’m coming for your ass, Shitmoth.”

Her voice woke the boy next to her. She hasn’t even realised how her train of thought has surfaced into the real world until Plagg, who was sleeping on the blondes stomach, started grumbling in despleasure about how his pillow shouldn’t be moving. Adrien sat up, not meeting Ladybugs eyes as he took the cheese she was handing him and giving it to the suddenly awake and alert Kwami who, as always, swallowed it whole. It was kind of nice, reassuring, watching him do something Adrien has formerly perceived as highly annoying. Back then, before “The End of the World”, as he now called it, has fallen from the sky. Or rather dug it’s way out from six feet under, since the main cause of destruction were the earthquakes. Destruction. Thinking of it made Adriens gag-reflexes act up. He hated this akuma. Not only for the obvious reasons. No, Adrien hated how useless he himself felt because of it. Why should he cataclysm something while he’s trying to stop Dirtface from doing so? It was highly contraproductive and Chat could not stand it. It was like watching the person you hate most, fan-girl about something you love. Kind of ruins the experience. Adrien didn’t know if he could use his power the way he did before, ever again. The only upside to it was, that he didn’t have to recharge as often and was therefore capable of protecting his partner whenever she had to hide. 

As long as he didn’t fucking collapse from exhaustion, of course.

“I fainted again, didn’t I?”, he asked, shame crawling into his every pore. He was hoping to avoid that. The first time already came at the price of his identity, though luckily Ladybug has been quick enough to hide him before anyone else could catch a glimpse. Adrien wasn’t aware of it, but once Mari managed to securely position him on one of the upside-down-boats benches, she fell into a hysterical fit of laughter. She cried, she felt as if she were about to choke, as if she were about to finally explode into all those shattered pieces her heart now consisted of. Her laughter, though, showed none of these emotions. An outsider would be afraid to come near her, her parents would not be able to recognize her, she herself would have been disturbed by that sight. If the Joker were there to see it, he would have had to give his crown to her, for her laugh was scarier than any Jokers could ever be. 

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

Marinette just nodded and waited for Chat to suit back up. She didn’t think of his collapses as embarassing. Instead, Ladybug was highly impressed by his skill and endurance. She knew he didn’t have the luxury of someone taking the hit for her, sleeping and eating instead of her. For so long Mari has been trying to convice herself that she realy was, just like Adrien, just like Chat, alone. She wanted to believe that her soulmate was dead, wanted to live and not give a damn about that extra source of pain, which is the only thing she has ever thought of, when it came to feeling any kind of relationship towards her bonded. How could she love what brings her torture? How could she want to love the pain? Now though, with death being all around her, no-one she could turn to and time playing against her...Marinette was relying on them. She would not be able to surive this without her soulmate sleeping instead of her, would have probably fallen to the hands of malnutrition, if it weren’t for them feeding her through that inexplicable bond between their souls. 

Adrien did not have that. He was born without a soulmate, which wasn’t anything unusual. After all, more than half of the worlds population were either born without a soulmate or simply existed during a different century than their significant others. 

Just like Nino, just like Chloe, just like Nathaniel, Kagami and Luka: Adrien isn’t going to stay by Ladybugs side forever. She knew that now. That was okay, though. Because now she was certain of one thing. Her soulmate was alive and, according to her intensifying tiredness as well as that energizing tingling keeping her body up and working, they were on their way to save her.

That carries a tiny problem though.

She had to avoid getting help. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

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

HI! First of: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback, I am so fucking grateful you have no idea (or you do? idk. THANK YOU ILY)

This story has gotten much longer than I had planned but tbh I love it. There’s a part 3 and probably a part 4 coming, Though I’ll post it tomorrow ‘cause I gotta write it and like, live life a bit.

Critique and any kind of feedback is very welcome!

I will most probably continue Jasonette July, this is so much more fun than I expected. So see you tomorrow \o/

Thanks for reading^^

P.S.: There's finally some proper Jasonette on the horizon☄

[youarejesting]

Love Listening

[MASTERLIST]

Beta: @tinysweetscrown​ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Reader x Yoongi Genre: Smut Warning: Auralism (sexual sounds), Masturbation, oral sex (m & f receiving), penetrative Sex, voyeurism. Words: 3.6k

You had been roommates for a few years now, really great ones so you thought. Taehyung was handsome, kind, and witty, a gentle guy who enjoyed some eccentric hobbies and rarely started beef. You liked him for sure but not romantically and any feelings you may have had didn’t take over your life. He always brought home different girls and you had your books and loud music to drown it all out. Other than that, the two of you lived in harmony, eating and talking trash together. 

Things between work and home had been going great. You felt like you were finally getting somewhere with your work. It took months to get this ahead in paperwork, that is until your boss surprised you with a document you had forgotten to include. Months of work you had to redo, because he didn’t give you all the required documents. Bitterly you remember asking for this form a week ago and being told he would send it over email, but obviously never did. Thankful for the completed worksheets in front of you, it made writing new ones easier. 

Before you could end your shift your boss asked you to stay a little longer, just to discuss how the edit was going. Explaining that you were halfway through, he lectured you about making sure to remember every document before beginning a task. His lecture went so long you glanced at the clock. You would have to race to the bus if you wanted to make it on the last trip of the night.

You were running down the street when the bus passed by, causing you to curse loudly. Taking out your mobile, you called for a taxi, paying the man and collecting your bags. You realized you had left your wallet in the cab and had to call them back. As you waited for the taxi outside the apartment building where you lived, it began raining. Seriously what was today? 

With your wallet returned, you entered the rooftop apartment. You never understood why these apartments always were the setting for so many K-dramas. You had gotten into a discussion with your good friend Seokjin; both agreeing that the rooftop was the worst due to the heat. So the rain was your saving grace. Fighting the keys in the lock, you were quick to shed your bag on the hook by the front door. 

Stepping into the apartment. It was a modern style, everything open directly from the front door was the living room, behind the couch was the dining table and behind that the kitchen. On the other side of the living room was a hall that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. It was cozy. You really enjoyed living in the small home. 

Even if at night the pipes in the ceiling rattled ominously, or that you didn’t have a proper laundry and as it was just a washing machine in the cupboard by the dining table. But there were so many good memories within the apartment, like the couch you and Taehyung had carried half way across town and broke to get it to fit through the front door. Or the hole in the wall where you both had decided to roller skate in doors and he fell through the drywall.

Yes, you were fond of all the little cracks in the tiles and all the chips in the paint as they were memories that you loved and shared with your best friend and roommate. The very same roommate you had walked in on getting dressed up in the living room. He was buttoning up a dress shirt, when he noticed you across the room.

“Okay, how do I look?” he said, while you hopped out of your shoes and coat, which you put away neatly in their rightful places. 

“What’s the goal for the night?” Eyes sliding up and down his form. 

“To get some,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Then you look good” you threw him two thumbs up. You walked to the washing machine, which was hidden inside a cupboard in your small apartment and began stripping from your drenched work uniform, standing there in only your bra and underwear. 

You were both comfortable with each other, but this was no rom-com. You were pretty sure if he liked you, he wouldn’t fart in your room at night and run away laughing. Taehyung noticed your appearance with a laugh. “An umbrella,” he said with his finger in the air as if he had had a profound idea before running off to find one.

With the washing machine set you wondered what you would do in the house by yourself tonight, you walked down the hallway towards your room. Pressing the bedroom door open you were met with a strange sight. There was water all over your bed and dripping onto the floor “TAE! What did you do?”

“What? I didn’t do anything” He stepped in inspecting your room and his mouth fell open. “Oh no”

The rain you had praised earlier was another omen of bad luck. There must be a leak, and a big one at that, in your roof and it completely soaked the bed. Taehyung was quick to call the landlord, who said they would send someone to inspect it the next day. 

Did you do something wrong in this life or a past life, why did you deserve this? You pushed your bed aside and placed a large bucket under the drippage, pacing and nervously looking around at all your treasured items. Taehyung loosened his tie, sending a text to his current fling that he was unavailable.

"Hey shh, it's okay listen, we are Bro's I have extra space in my room. I will make room and we can move your bed and any valuables in case something happens." You spent the evening moving everything, you couldn’t believe he canceled his evening with his latest girl,Alana. She was really pretty. 

"Sorry about your girl?"

"It's all good, she can’t resist me” he gave a cheeky box grin.

Dinner and movies helped you forget about the disasters in your life. You both laid in Taehyung’s bed while your mattress was upright in the corner of the room, drying. 

The digital cloak on Taehyung’s bedside table began to blur, the soft blue LED numbers ticking over. You were in a haze like sleep, when you heard heavy breathing and whispering. A woman’s voice talking quietly seemed to really pull you from your sleep state. Taehyung was face timing Alana. 

You tried to ignore it, but their hushed whispers became muffle giggles. You heard the blankets move slowly and cautiously. Taehyung shushing Alana while she purposefully tried to exaggerate her sounds. The out of breath words, became soft moans accompanied by the slow movements against the blankets that gently bounced the mattress. There was a sticky wet sound that you knew was his hand pumping around his shaft.

How you wanted to look. Each new sound sent a volt of electricity through your body. The dirty talk increased.

“You are such a little slut,” Taehyung growled. “You couldn’t even wait, one night”

“I want to come so bad,” Alana’s sickly sweet voice spoke through the phone and you wanted nothing more than to throw the phone. “I want to see”

“Fuck, I wish I was there right now, I would sink this thick cock so deep baby” He moved the blankets aside and the sounds were clearer almost deafeningly loud. How did he not know you were awake. “God I want to fill you up”

His hand moved faster, sounds of air pushing past his lips like he was trying to muffle it with tight lips, but it was too powerful to prevent. He came. His voice was a low growl, you could practically feel it in your own throat, it was so raw. 

His cry broke mid climax and his hips bucked into his closed fist. The imagery and sounds had you soaking through your panties, you tried lying as still as possible to not let Taehyung know, you heard it all your heartbeat strumming mercilessly against your clit. 

He leaned over the bed shuffling around.

“I gotta go and clean up” Taehyung sounded a little frustrated. He was panting, whispering a quiet thank you as he said goodbye to Alana.

“Fuck, I didn’t think I was going to cum so fast, it’s okay Tae it’s only for a few days until the roof is fixed” Taehyung leant over the side of the bed rummaging around before readjusted the blankets with a deep sigh and falling promptly to sleep. 

His soft rhythmic snores attesting to his workout. You however were not so lucky, unable to fall back asleep. Feeling guilty and ashamed for listening. You felt like a creep, but he must have known the risk by doing something like this in the same room, in the same bed. 

With Taehyung fast asleep, you shamefully took care of your business, you remembered the sounds and his groans. Recalling them made you desperate, the girl he was on the phone with praised him for how big he was, so you did your best to add a finger more than you usually did, biting your pillow trying to stay quiet. 

The next day you moved about the house, heading to work and forgetting all about what had happened. Work was slow and tedious and by the time it was all over, you were completely exhausted. Hoseok the most energetic and on some occasions the most annoying co-worker you had the pleasure of working with smiled in your direction. Practically skipping over to chat your ear off which usually made you feel better, but you weren’t feeling good at all. The thought of your room slowly flooding and your things being destroyed really put a damper on your work ethic.

You had plans to box everything up and perhaps have it sent to storage while the repairs were underway. Tae had contacted you saying that the maintenance guy came and they had to repair the roof and the ceiling. He also said that he had put your mattress in the sun to dry and would bring it in, when it was dry or before nightfall. This gave you some hope things could get better, putting a little more effort into your work. You would finish it all today you decided, even if you had to stay all night.

Walking inside the apartment you stripped out of your uniform as always and threw them into the washing machine. Stopping yourself from entering your bedroom, you walked into Taehyung’s room, not thinking anything of it. You froze at the sight. Taehyung lay naked, his head back and eyes closed while Alana took care of him. You could see he indeed was  big, bigger than you had thought, and much bigger than your own finger the other night. Sneakily crawling across the room while the two were busy in their activities, you grabbed your over sized sweater and yoga pants before turning to crawl out of the room,trying not to startle or disturb them. 

Turning to exit you paused momentarily in the middle of the room, when you finally gave in to your urges and took a peek. Taehyung had a firm grasp on Alana’s head and was thrusting hard, You could hear Alana gagging at the sheer size of him. The sucking sound squelching as he fucked her throat, as it tried to close around him, rejecting him. What a waste, he should at least be with someone who could take him, you thought. Clearly not you, you weren't any better yourself. 

You escaped, but the images you witnessed had lit a spark between your hips. You headed out, leaving the apartment, deciding it was almost too dangerous to stay. Also it was kind of frustrating and weird to just sit in the living room and listen to the two enjoying themselves. A mix of respecting their privacy and the growing urgency of her own sexual frustration.

Yoongi’s apartment was nice. He was a music producer and worked with many of the latest artists. He was a friend, whom you had a history with, and you were sort of banking on the fact that because of  said ‘history’,he might help you out. 

Knocking on the door, you waited patiently. Min Yoongi wasn’t the type to rush. He answered tiredly and thoroughly confused to see you. "Hey what's up?" 

"Yoongi I need to ask you a favor”

"Okay," he allowed you in with a swing of his arm, stepping back to allow you inside. You barely made it past the threshold before you asked him.

"Remember that time we both got drunk at  Jin’s New Years’ party?"

"Uh, the time we agreed would be better if we didn't talk about?" he eyed you curiously.

"Look I still don't want to talk about it, but did you hate it?"

"No, you sucked my dick why would I hate that?"

"Can I do it again?"

He stared in shock, a little concerned as to why you were really here. "Why?"

"Look I am pent up, and I need a dick in my mouth and I trust  that we can do this and it means nothing at all, you won't call me up to ask me how I am feeling and it won't be awkward. So would you be interested in a free BJ?"

"I mean I don't feel like it, you know? I'm not really in the mood," he shuffled, running his hands through his hair. 

"Oh okay, that's fine then" You nodded and went back to the entryway ready to put on your shoes and leave. Yoongi grabbed your arm, not looking at you, but leading you further inside his apartment.

"Hey woah, I didn't say I wouldn't help. You are frustrated and I don't need it, but I would be more than happy to help you."

You looked at him and he patted the dining room table, "Sit up here, you caught me at a good time. I am hungry," he licked his lip. Carding his fingers through your hair, brushing it off your neck and inhaling the sweet smell of your skin. His dexterous fingers sliding to the front of your jeans as he whispered dirty things into your ear.

“What do you want me to do?” he said, palming and massaging your thighs slowly. You moaned, grabbing his hand and dragging it closer to your core. He retracted his hand back quickly “Use your fucking words or you will get nothing, I don’t want to play” He was set in his ways. Yoongi never messed around nor was he someone for anything implied. He was a man who liked things to be direct and clear. So of course he wanted the same thing when it came to your consent.

“Can you?” you blushed “Eat me out?”

“You want me to taste this pretty pussy baby, I want to thank you for the New Years party,” Yoongi popped the button of your jeans grabbing the tiny slider on your zip between his thumb and forefinger. He not only pulled the slider down the teeth of the zip, he also pressed his knuckles into your skin grinding down against your clothed heat. 

He pushed you to lean back on the table and ripped the denim from your hips and followed with your underwear. He watched you shiver from the cold air and pulled up a seat at the head off the table, his gaze strong. He didn’t bother taking off your sweater as he didn’t feel it necessary. Self-conscious you pulled your knees together and he slapped the curve of your hip in a warning causing you to let your knees fall open again.

“Now I can see how pretty you are glistening in the light, you still want this?” at your verbal confirmation he scooted his chair forward wrapping his arms under your thighs and around to hold them apart. Without hesitation, he dived straight in and your body locked up at the sudden pleasure. It was intense and everything you needed, his pants and growls sounded like he was purring as he pressed his hot mouth against you. 

You loved every minute of it; the way his tongue seemed to move so uniquely and so fast. The way his long thin fingers plunged inside you and curled up, hitting something deep within you that had your hips twitching in response. You were so lost in the feeling and you weren't being quiet. He pulled away panting, resting his cheek against your thigh as he grinning up at you. 

"You taste so sweet" Yoongi breathed, you were shaking and in absolute bliss, something about him devouring you with such gusto made it so much better. After his quick breather, he returned to his task as if it was his civic duty to bring you pleasure. No one had ever been so excited to eat you out. You were so close, your eyes scrunching closed and toes curling. Fantasies of Taehyung playing out in your head, had you releasing the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced.

You came, body tensing in waves and he continued not lowering the pressure until you were completely spent. "I'm not going to lie. I am ready now if you want to continue" Yoongi offered you more. Breathless, your mouth moved saying yes as you nodded, but barely any sound came out. 

He moved you to the couch, casually strolling off to grab a condom from the nearby junk draw. Returning he lowered his sweat pants to his knees and pumped his long length, rolling the thin layer of latex over the head and down to the base. Yoongi’s cock was pretty. He turned to you, and gestured for you to sit on his lap. Yoongi was good at sex, but it just couldn't compare to his expertise in oral pleasure. You remembered Taehyung’s size and frowned. Yoongi had the length but not quite the girth. His voice was deep too, but the tone was off. 

With all your thoughts and imagination on Taehyung, you spurred yourself on, getting closer and closer until you came tightly around Yoongi. Once he was finished he pulled out almost instantly making you feel empty once more. With a content sigh, he gently rolled you off of his lap to lay down on the couch. Tying off the condom, he lifted his sweatpants back into place and moved to the kitchen to dispose of the used contraceptive. "Do you want a drink?"

You nodded your voice too dry from the activities and he sent you a quick smirk.

"Hey, are you two done?" Jimin's voice called from the front door, he was standing in the entrance way, which was blocked off by a divider wall. 

"Oh sorry, Jimin" You pulled your pants back on. Jimin looked between you and raised an eyebrow. 

"So when did you two become a thing?” 

"We aren't, we are bro's and I just needed some help"

"Oh okay," you noticed Jimin's tight pants and you frowned looking at Yoongi, who was looking soft as hell with a gummy grin "I got another round left in me, Jimin come here" the boy beamed and you thanked Yoongi, leaving to give the two men some privacy. 

When you returned it was quiet in the apartment, Alana must have left. You had just started making dinner, receiving a call from Jimin "Hey sorry about walking in on you guys this afternoon. I hope I haven't made things awkward. You don't seem the type to do casual, at least that's not how Tae describes you."

"I am allowed to get horny sometimes, it's not a crime is it?"

"No, you sounded really sexy though, and I was a little jealous that I didn't get to join in." You saw Taehyung had exited his bedroom and was quietly ordering dinner on a phone app and you told Jimin you should go. “Next time if you are horny, you can come to my house.”

“Alright bud, I have to go, but I will keep that in mind.”

"Hey, you came home late?" Taehyung said after waiting for your conversation to end.

"I went to see Yoongi," You added the seasoning to your ramyeon, hoping to finally get a chance to eat.

"Ah his Snap chat makes sense then"

"Why?"

"He is boasting about tongue technology on Snap chat"

"Oh yeah" your voice broke still hoarse from overuse and Tae laughed. 

"Good for you, I was worried you would never get some, my friend, you look happier."

"Thanks, man" This wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but what can you say. Moving through the room to the dining table to eat your dinner, processing your recent actions, which also took place atop a dining table. 

That night you didn’t hear any nightly activities, which meant you fell into a deep sleep. You woke up the next morning and dressed groaning, “Ah my back hurts table oral isn’t very comfortable.” Taehyung coughed into his cereal, he knew you and Yoongi were doing things but you forgot he didn’t know what you two had done specifically but you ignored him. The two of you finished your breakfast before placing your bowls into the kitchen sink and going your separate ways to work.

Work was stressful. You were trying your best and even stayed later than usual. When you arrived home the house was empty, taking the opportunity to follow your usual routine, and even getting to settle into your bed early. 

Woken by the sound of the front door unlocking, the small digital clock on the nightstand read ‘2AM’ in big digital figures. There were giggles, Taehyung and Alana entered the room clearly drunk and shushing each other loudly. 

“We have to be quiet”

“What if she wakes up?”

“It’s okay we are cool, she was doing the same thing just the other day with a friend of mine.”

You heard him unbuckle his trousers, the button popping followed by the zip. Your hearing seemed to enhance each sound bringing a new sensation through your body. The fabric being shed from his body and the accompanied growl, when Alana took him in his mouth. He pulled her off pretty quickly and pumped himself in his hand groaning. It was too dark to see anything but their basic silhouettes in the faint glow of a wall charger. 

You saw him spread her legs wide, the bed moved with a small sound and you heard him groan as he settled between her legs. Her higher sounding whine pissed you off, was it because it sounded fake or because you were jealous. It was making you mad, but you were distracted by his timbre words of encouragement.  

“Oh you feel so fucking good, oh yes so tight,” he paused and pulled back and flipped her over, making sure to bury himself entirely in her once more. You squirmed laying on your stomach trying to mimic the pose she was in. He must have forgotten of your presence or didn’t seem to care, because he slapped her ass hard and continued praising her the whole time. Your imagination went wild and you could almost feel the slap against your skin even though you knew it was all in your head. Finger working quickly, desperate to find your own release. 

This was different, your orgasm was building stronger than you had ever felt before.You didn’t even have enough warning to catch a small whimper of his name. It left your mouth before you could muffle the rest in your pillow, trying to stay completely still even though your body was shaking. You cursed yourself and tried to get some sleep as they continued seemingly unaffected. 

Making your escape early in the mourning, you arrived at the office trying to drown out the thoughts in your head. As always it worked, you were easily distracted. Hoseok was on his day off, so you couldn’t even talk with him about regular office gossip. On the journey home, the thoughts came back quickly, your distraction no more. You stepped through the front door of your apartment and saw the boys all sitting around the lounge room, the place covered in snacks. 

“Hey, you are home” Jimin grinned, leading you to sit down, which wasn't your routine but you were drained physically and mentally.

“Jimin was telling us about the action you and Yoongi had the other day” Seokjin laughed as your eyes flew open and Jimin dropped his head apologizing for letting it slip.

“It’s okay Jimin we are adults and I went to him for help.”

“Yeah but what if something goes wrong, pick some other random guy to get your fix, we don’t need drama within the group” Taehyung scoffed, picking at the hem of his shirt aggressively. What was his problem? Did he think you were going to start a fight amongst your friends, you were adults and knew how to keep things pretty civil. Neither you nor Yoongi had any feelings towards one another.

“Well if you ever need it, we are all willing to help” Namjoon smiled.

“You just want your dick wet” you scoffed standing and walking into your room to get changed. 

“Hey, I won’t say no to that,” Seokjin grinned; Namjoon’s face was slightly pink. 

You all had a great time talking and drinking and after a shower, you went to bed cuddling in your blankets. Returning from his shower Taehyung asked. “Hey, are you awake?” 

Contemplating whether to respond you decided you should “Yeah what’s up?”

“I was wondering um about last night?”

“You must have come home pretty late I didn’t even hear you?”

“You said my name” he stated and you blinked shocked

“I say your name all the time, what do you mean?”

“You were awake last night and you said my name” he breathed noticing how tense you were and how weird you sounded.

“I don’t remember you coming home, were you talking, maybe I heard your voice and responded automatically, I had a weird dream though, that you were running away from a murderer or something and you were hurt.”

He sighed softly, not wanting to push you, even if he had been madly in love with you this whole time. He could wait, no matter how long it took. He had waited a few years now so he was in it for the long run.

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[miss-tc-nova]

Trump Card - Terra x Reader

Hey! It’s good to see you, as always <3

I too love the slice of life stuff because relationships aren’t just about getting together or the first kiss. Domestic fluff is the best. And I’m glad to provide some nice fluff to dream about :3

Again, I’m so sorry this took so long to post. My computer died and I had to wait like a week to get a free minute at work to post this. So I’ve been holding onto this one for a while and I’m going mad! But that should be fixed today and I’ll be back in action! 

~~~~~

               The door jingles. Inside, my blood simmers; of course the one time I forget to lock the door behind me, someone tries to come in early.

               “I’m sorry, but the shop’s not open yet,” I call, placing a hot pan on the rack to cool.

               “Yes, I know but I need your help!”

               Immediately, my gaze shoots over the counter where I find the young man I’d left snoozing barely an hour ago. Disheveled barely covers the bases to describe his appearance. He looks frantic and rightfully so—he shouldn’t be here. “Terra, what are you doing here? Your training starts in like ten minutes.”

               “I know!” he exclaims. “I slept through the alarm!”

               “Oooh.” Now knowing exactly why he’s here, I return to the cooling rack and pluck three fresh strawberry tarts along with a mild melon bread. Bagged treats slide across the counter.

               Hasty hands dig through pockets. “How much do I owe?”

               “Worry about that later,” I insist, pushing the pair of paper bags closer. “Go! Before they get cold!”

               He leans across the counter and a hasty peck meets my forehead. “Thanksloveyoubye!”

               “Love you too,” I giggle even though he’s long gone.

               When Terra fails to appear before closing time, I’m fairly certain my day has been more pleasant than his. I can only guess that it’s his punishment keeping him late but I proceed with my schedule, heading home to relax and, later, prepare dinner.

               The distinct sound of keys sliding into the lock is heard—only one other person has a key to my apartment.

               “Hey.” He sounds exhausted. “I’m back.”

               “Welcome back,” I greet, scooping stir fry into a bowl of rice. “You’re just in time. How was training?”

               “Ugh, it was rough,” he groans, plopping into a chair. “I did not sleep last night.”

               The first bowl sits before him. “I noticed.”

               “Sorry,” he groans. “At least my punishment for being late wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been—thanks to you.”

               “Did Master Eraqus enjoy his tarts?”

               “As always. At this rate, I’m pretty sure you’re his favorite student.”

               I laugh. “I’m not even a student.”

               “I know. Thanks for breakfast too by the way.”

               With my own bowl, I sit across from him. “I knew you’d skip it in your rush, you dork.”

               He tells me about the lecture that ensued upon his tardy arrival to his training and how the Master did his best to accept the offering without appearing favorable. I’ve met Master Eraqus a few times with similar offerings and, while he looks like a serious individual, I can see glints of a kind man. Still, I know he is very proper and stern with his students.

               Just as I set the used dishes in the sink, I feel his hands at my hips. Kisses litter my neck, causing my shoulder to scrunch while I giggle. “Terra, I gotta clean the dishes.”

               “Do it later,” he replies, pressing more smooches against my cheek.

               “I’ll forget later.”

               “Oh well.” Feet leave the ground as the man throws me over his shoulder.

               “Ah! Terra!” I squeal, beating a useless fist across his back. His chuckle brings one up in me, even as he drops me on the bed.

               I know I’m safe here; this is my protector. Not only could he fend off any danger that could befall me, Terra always puts in extra effort to avoid hurting me himself. Sometimes he can be a klutz and accidents happen, but I know he’s always mindful of his strength. But boy do I get a high when I get a grip on those muscles. And yes, I’ve been caught plenty of times staring—at this point I’m pretty sure he purposely walks out of the bathroom without a shirt.

               Flopping down beside me, he takes my hand. “So what do I owe you for saving me today?” he asks, trailing kisses along my arm.

               “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” It’s a chore to keep the giggles in check.

               A kiss meets my cheek. “Come on. You were at work and I really do owe you this time.”

               “Fine. Don’t be late next time.”

               “That’s not payment.”

               “I’m serious, Terra. Don’t worry about it,” I huff, pinching at his cheek. “I’m allowed to do things for you without something in return.”

               He shakes me off. “Then you won’t mind if I start doing chores around here.”

               “Yeah, no. The last time you tried to help me, one of us got glass in their foot.” There’s a cute little pout. “Thank god it was me because I never would’ve been able to carry you to the hospital for stitches.”

               “If I remember right, you’re the one who sliced their hand open trying to open a package of cheese,” he quips back, picking at the skin between my thumb and index where there’s a faint scar.

               “What’s your point? I didn’t hurt you.”

               “True. Okay, how about the time you hung up that frame and it fell on my head in the middle of the night.” A finger points to the picture frame that’s been hung twice now.

               I press a hand to my face. “Of course out of the dozens in this room, that’s the one that falls.”

               “Back on topic, I will find some way to pay you back.”

               “Seriously sweetheart. It’s fine.”

               “If you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna start doing random things.”

               “No.”

               “Tell me.”

               “No!” Freeing myself from his grasp, I ungraciously faceplant into my pillow.

               The argument vanishes when a warm hand sneaks under my shirt. My body falls limp at the feel of fingertips ghosting across my skin. The only sign of my resistance comes in the form of a deep breath followed by a groan into the pillowcase.

               “What about this?” he hums, fingers flexing against my skin.

               “This is cheating.” The answer is swallowed by the fabric.

               “I didn’t hear a ‘no.’”

               “I will die here.”

               “What was that, babe?”

               Lifting my head, I glare. “I said—aaaAAAAGGGHHHH!” Whatever muscle he found was not thrilled to be prodded.

               “There’s a knot.”

               I rub at the sore muscle. “Yeah, apparently.”

               Terra pushes off the bed, slipping a leg over my waist. “How about we fix that.” There’s no chance to question when another jolt of pain shoots up my back and the pillow consumes a scream. “Relax babe. It’ll just get worse if you leave it.”

               “It hurts!” I complain.

               “Yes, that’s why it’s a knot and you don’t want it getting worse. Now relax, I’ll try to be gentle.”

               True to his word, he tries but it still hurts like a bitch. It takes several reminders and serious self-control on my part not to just squirm free and flee. However, the pain soon enough melts to a far more pleasurable feeling, eliminating the conscious effort to relax. A fog rolls across my brain, leaving all thoughts in a hazy euphoria. The steady rhythm, the kneading pressure, the warm hands: it’s perfect; I’m pretty sure the bed is just assimilating me at this point. There’s a vague awareness that Terra said something, but I don’t know what it is and barely manage a hum.

               It doesn’t take much longer for me to go under.

~~~~~

               “Terra, if you don’t get your ass out of bed, you’re going to be late again and I don’t have any tarts to save you this time!” Wedged between the wall and my boyfriend, I strain to roll the man onto his back. One more roll and—THUNK!

               “Ow!” Sitting up, he rubs his head. “Seriously?”

               “It’s that or ice water and I’d prefer not to have a wet bed. Now go get ready.”

               Grumbling, Terra hops in the shower while I bustle into the kitchen to finish breakfast. It’s almost done when strong arms wrap around me.

               “Baaabe.” Oh that’s a tone that screams ‘I want something.’ “I know today’s your day off but I need you to make some cookies.”

               There it is. “Excuse me, what?” I scoff. The spatula is set aside so I may turn on him. “What did you do?”

               “I…” That sheepish smile won’t fool me. “—forgot Ven’s birthday.”

               “You what?! He’ll be heartbroken!”

               “I know! Will you just help me please!”

               “Terra! I barely have enough ingredients here for basic chocolate chips!”

               A hand rolls. “That’s kind of why I started with the ‘I know it’s your day off’ part.”

               “Uagh!”

               “Come on.” There’s a big, sugar-coated grin that signals an oncoming trump card. “If you do, I’ll give you a massage.”  

               My eyes narrow. “I hate you.”

               “Thanks babe.”

[prouvaireafterdark]

Hi friend! Same anon who suggested the thigh riding fic here (still not over it, iconic). A change of pace - and if you’re comfortable writing about this subject matter - Alex and Michael getting super stoned. Michael brings a joint over to Alex’s, they haven’t smoked together since high school and lazily rub off against each other (too much cotton mouth to give head and not enough coordination to fuck) and it brings back a rush of warm and fond memories of doing the same when they were kids.

Hope you like! 😘

Also on AO3!

***

“Guess what I’ve got,” Michael says excitedly as he enters the kitchen and tosses his keys on the table.

He walks up to where Alex is leaning back against the counter, sipping on a half-empty glass of red wine, and drops a kiss on his cheek in greeting. It’s so sweet and domestic that Alex almost forgets why he’s supposed to be mad. Almost.

“An excuse for why you’re an hour late to dinner?” Alex asks when Michael pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” Michael cringes, deflating a little. “Liz needed some last minute help with an experiment, I got here as soon as I could.”

“Everything okay?” Alex asks, standing up a little straighter.

“Yeah, only minor explosions this time,” Michael jokes.

Alex sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t keep the smile off his face.

“Text me next time, okay?” Alex asks, tugging Michael close by the edge of his fleece-lined jacket. “I worry about you.”

“I will, promise,” Michael concedes, kissing the corner of his mouth this time. When he pulls away there’s a mischievous look in his eye. “So, you gonna guess?”

“Thought I already did,” Alex says, raising an eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” Michael concedes and reaches into his pocket.

He pulls out a small ziplock baggie with a joint inside.

“Guerin,” Alex says, a little disapprovingly. “I thought we weren’t breaking the law anymore.”

“Relax, I didn’t buy it,” Michael defends himself with a roll of his eyes. “I liberated it from Rosa.“

“She’s using again?” Alex asks, worry etching its way onto his face.

“Nah, she found it in an old book she had in her room and wanted to get rid of it.”

“Good,” Alex says, relieved. “That’s good.”

“So, you wanna?” Michael asks after a second, shaking the baggie in front of Alex’s face.

Alex gives the joint, and Michael, a dubious look.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Michael pouts. “I used to get my weed from you in high school.”

Alex laughs and shakes his head.

“It’s not that,” Alex insists. “It’s just—that thing’s a decade old, it’s gonna taste terrible.”

“So did the cheap shit we used to smoke in the back of my truck,” Michael argues with a shrug. “Come on, it’ll be just like old times.”

He has a point, Alex must admit, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little seduced by the idea of revisiting the rebellious days of their youth.

“Dinner first,” Alex decides. “And we’re doing it outside. I don’t want our bedroom to smell like a dispensary.”

Michael grins at him and leans in to steal a kiss.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Later, Alex watches Michael’s cheeks hollow as he takes a long drag off the joint where they sit in their backyard, side by side in front of the unlit fire pit. A few seconds later, a large cloud of smoke billows out of his mouth.

“Eugh,” Michael says, making a sour face as he hands the joint to Alex. “Okay. You were right.”

Alex laughs at him, but accepts it anyway. No going back now—if he’s gotta smell it, he might as well get something out of it.

He takes a hit and, yeah, it tastes like shit, but he can’t help feeling a little nostalgic at the gentle burn in his chest. It takes him back to those cool summer nights spent curled up with Michael in the bed of his truck, far enough away from Roswell that it didn’t matter who Alex’s dad was or where he was shipping off to—all he’d needed to think about was the way Michael made him feel when he straddled his thighs and shotgunned smoke into his mouth.

The thought sends tendrils of heat snaking through Alex’s belly that have little to do with the smoke in his lungs. Michael extends his hand toward Alex to take the joint back, but Alex has a better idea.

“Come here,” Alex says, locking eyes with Michael and patting his thigh.

Michael visibly swallows as he stands up and walks over to him. At Alex’s gentle prodding, Michael climbs into his lap and arranges himself across his thighs just so to keep most of his weight off Alex’s bad leg. Alex rests his left hand against his hip to keep him there.

Alex takes another drag off the joint and holds the smoke in his lungs as he leans into Michael’s space. He watches Michael’s eyes flutter closed as he brings their lips together, feels them soft and warm and wet against his own as he exhales slowly into Michael’s mouth. Alex flicks his tongue out against Michael’s full bottom lip once his lungs are empty, the taste of Michael’s skin much more pleasant than the acrid smoke curling around them.

“Fuck,” Michael whispers into the space between them as he exhales.

“Just like old times, right?” Alex asks, his lips quirking up into a smug smile.

“Mhmm,” Michael hums and presses a proper kiss to Alex’s lips before he leans back and takes the joint delicately from between Alex’s fingers. “My turn.”

They smoke a few minutes longer, trading kisses between hits. Alex isn’t sure if it’s Michael or the weed or some combination of the two making him feel like he’s floating, but he happily sinks into that warm buzz until Michael gasps softly against his mouth.

“What?” Alex asks, eyes half-lidded as he pulls back to look at Michael’s face.

“We have ice cream.”

Which is how they end up in bed approximately twenty minutes later, stripped down to their underwear with matching bowls of melting chocolate peanut butter ice cream in their laps as they watch Mythbusters reruns.

Michael is enraptured, spoon frozen halfway to his open mouth as he watches the team succeed in driving a motorcycle over the liquid surface of a lake.

Alex, on the other hand, is struck with the sudden, terrible realization that Jamie Hyneman’s mustache kind of makes him look like a walrus and promptly loses his fucking mind.

“What?” Michael asks, glancing down to where Alex has sunk into the bed and is rolling onto his side to smother his laughter against Michael’s hip.

Alex opens his mouth to speak, but he only giggles harder when he looks up at Michael’s face and sees a fresh smear of ice cream on his chin.

“You’re so fucking stoned, babe,” Michael laughs, reaching down to thread his fingers through Alex’s hair.

Alex is laughing too hard to disagree.

Michael puts his and Alex’s bowls on the bedside table before he lies down next to him. He pillows his head on his arm and watches him with an amused smile, evidently finding him much more interesting to watch than his favorite childhood TV show. If it wasn’t for how obviously bloodshot Michael’s eyes are, Alex would wonder if he was the only one feeling the joint they split right now.

“You have ice cream on your face,” Alex tells him, wiping the tears streaming from his eyes once he’s settled down.

“Where?”

“Here,” Alex answers, and instead of swiping at it with his finger, he leans in to lick it off his chin. The chocolate is sweet, but the soft moan Michael makes as Alex drags his tongue across his stubble is sweeter, and Alex finds himself chasing that sound right into Michael’s mouth.

Alex loses all sense of time as Michael kisses him—it could be seconds, minutes, or hours that he lies there, consumed by the softness of Michael’s mouth against his. He feels so hyperaware of him, so connected, that just the brush of Michael’s fingers against his cheek has pleasure buzzing through his whole body.

They trade slow kisses like that until Alex feels something hard against his hip. He pulls away, smoothing a palm down Michael’s bare chest to keep the distance between them, and looks down to see the thick outline of Michael’s cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“You’re hard,” Alex points out before looking up at him again.

Michael follows his line of sight, as if he hasn’t noticed, and Alex bites off a moan a second later when he feels Michael’s warm hand cupping his cock.

“So’re you,” Michael says, palming him gently through his underwear. Alex’s hips twitch involuntarily into Michael’s touch as he asks, “Want me to blow you?”

Alex shakes his head. He remembers all too well what a mood killer it is to try to  suck cock with cottonmouth.

Instead, Alex reaches down to pull Michael’s cock out of his underwear, pushing the waistband under his balls. He gives him a few strokes, delighting in the way he jumps against his fingers. Michael slips his hand into Alex’s underwear to wrap around him in turn, but Alex lets go of Michael’s cock and takes him by the wrist, drawing his hand away from him. Michael’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches Alex free his own cock, but understanding clicks into place as Alex grabs hold of Michael’s knee and hikes it up over his hip, slotting his right thigh into the space he makes between Michael’s legs. Alex presses close until he can feel both of their cocks trapped hot and hard between them.

“Like we used to,” Alex says, grinding his hips encouragingly against Michael. “Remember?”

Michael lets out a shuddering breath and nods, drawing his leg tighter around the back of Alex’s body.

They move against each other lazily, sweat and pre-come slicking the way, and Alex can’t help but think of that summer before he shipped off to basic again, when his life was a series of moments stolen in the back of Michael’s truck.

He remembers lying on a pile of blankets and sleeping bags, the smell of rain and cannabis thick in the air around them as they rut against each other until they came at least twice, Michael gasping into his mouth each time he fell over the edge, unwilling to spend a single second not kissing him.

There was no need for words then, their bodies speaking to each other in a way that transcended language, and Alex finds it’s no different now—he can feel how much Michael wants him in the way his cock weeps against his belly with every rock of their hips, he can hear how much he needs him in the soft, desperate whimpers he smothers against his mouth, and he swears he can even taste how much he loves him on the very tip of his tongue as it slips passed his lips.

Time slows to a crawl even as one minute bleeds into the next. Michael’s heated skin is heaven beneath his fingers, every sigh, every moan, every gasp hitting his ears sweeter than any music he’s ever heard. In the midst of a symphony of sensations, Alex barely notices when his pleasure crests and he spills hot and wet between them.

A second and a lifetime pass before Michael does the same, burying a moan into Alex’s neck as he comes. Alex holds him close as he trembles with the force of it, all the while thinking, yes, this is just like it was when they were kids.

Except it’s better, Alex decides as he settles against Michael’s chest after haphazardly cleaning up, sleep slowly pulling him under.

It’s better because they’re in their own bed, in their own home, with their own TV playing softly in the background.

It’s better because this moment isn’t stolen at all.

[bangtan-madi]

546 Days Without You — Eleven: Day 412

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 3.1k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 11 / 15

Warnings — minor language

Previous — Next

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. Time flies by as you travel from Korea to Europe, then to the Americas, then to Australia. In the four months that have passed, the amount of concerts has crossed over two-dozen. You've crossed into at least half as many countries across six continents, and this is only the half-way point.

Shortly after the new year, the group finds itself emptying out of the plane. Having landed in Nagoya minutes before, at an ungodly hour of the morning, you struggle to keep yourself awake. Gravity pulls your body towards the earth. The soft rain falls, creating a lullaby for the weary souls trekking towards the ride to the hotel. You'd like nothing more than to let the ground swallow you whole.

Tour has left most of the members worse for the wear, despite the joy and fulfillment that it brings on an almost daily basis. You considered it a gift from the gods that you had a whole 36 hours before the show. Everyone needed a good shower, a proper meal, and a long night's sleep after leaving Melbourne after the last show. If the next concert was going to be a success, the boys and you needed it desperately.

Along with some cheering up. It isn't lost on you that this is the last show for the next month. After Nagoya, you'll all be heading back to Seoul, where Hoseok and Namjoon will begin final preparations for enlistment. Their date is just under a month away; once mid-February arrives, you'll be saying goodbye to two more members.

It's the thought that's consumed your mind as of late. A lot has happened since Seokjin and Yoongi were conscripted; over a year has passed. Both the time and space have allowed you to reevaluate your stance on conscription.

A soft hand shakes your shoulder, bringing you out of your quasi-dream state and back to the moment. Jimin offers you a hand, assisting you in stepping from the car. The hotel is dimly lit against the Nagoya sky, and the famous castle stands high against the horizon. Any other night you might stay and admire for longer, as this city was one of Seokjin's favorites, but you willfully allow your closest friend to tug you into the building.

As Sejin checks the group in for the next few nights, you throw your arms around Hoseok's neck, mumbling, "Up, up."

The brunet bends down, scooping you up and cradling you against his back. Hands under your thighs, arms around his shoulders, head lulling against the crook of his neck, you welcome his comfort — quite literally with open arms. The youngest member kindly grabs your suitcase.  Breathing deeply, your eyes flutter shut once again.

"Jungkookie's right," you slur on the short elevator ride to the upper floor. "You do smell nice."

Hoseok's laugh reverberates through his body, one of the greatest sounds turned to one of the greatest feelings. It's joy taken physical form.

"You're so cute when you're delirious," he chuckles.

"Don't make me out-rap you next time we perform. I have no problem taking my brother's place in 'UGH.'"

Hoseok slides the key to one of the rooms. "Oooh? Threatening me now, are we?"

Nodding against his shoulder, you tighten your arms when he tries to put you down. "M'comfy."

"[Y/n]-ahhh."

"Fiiine."

You drop your clingy arms from around his neck, and Hoseok settles you onto the queen bed in the center of the room. Jungkook drops off your suitcase, giving a small wave before departing for his suite across the hall.

A sudden vibration originating from your jacket pocket causes you to stir. A soft, quiet chorus from Seokjin's last song plays. Your exhaustion suddenly fading, you tug the phone from your pocket. Your boyfriend's face glows on the screen, giving you the option to accept or decline a face-to-face.

A grin spreads across your face, and you accept without hesitation. The call connects, and suddenly you're able to see him. He's already dressed in uniform, the patches on his collar revealing yet another promotion that happened over the new year. This status gives him even more freedom than before, and he can pretty much call you whenever he wants. Yoongi has reached the same status, although he tends to send you more voice memos than actual calls. Just like the two of you used to do.

Seokjin laughs, eyes crinkling up at the corners, at the sight of you on your side. Cheeks mushed up against the pillow, eyes barely open, curled up into a fetal position, you must be a sight for sore eyes.

"Just landed, I see?"

"Shut up," you murmur.

"You look exhausted, Jagi."

"That's because she is, hyung," Hoseok interrupts from across the room. He's finished dragging his suitcase into the room, then opens the door that leads to the other bedroom in the other suite. "Can't you call some other time? We're about to crash."

You roll your eyes and snicker. "Someone's getting cranky."

"He's right,"

Seokjin chuckles, bringing your attention back to his face.

"I just got up, and I wanted to check in, make sure you got to Nagoya safely. That's all. Don't want to keep you up."

Giving a thumbs-up, you force a smile and pull yourself into a sitting position. "Never better! Slept the whole way. How the hell are you up so early?"

"You know me: I'm always the early bird!"

"Yeah, except the earlier you get up, the more chaotic you are. Remember the punching bag and yoga mat incident?"

"Well—"

"—Or the time you about choked on mangos, after calling yourself elegant?"

"Aish! I get it! At least I don't snore when we stay at any—no, every hotel."

Hoseok returns to the doorway, toothbrush shoved into his mouth and an unamused expression on his face. He gestures with a flourish of his hand. "Wrap it up with loudmouth. I'm dead. We can admire your bickering tomorrow when we're human again."

Giving the older member a nod of assurance, you watch in mild amusement as he leaves for the washroom once again. Turning your eyes back to the phone, you find Seokjin mirroring your playful, mischievous expression.

"We're the worst, aren't we?"

"Oh, definitely."

Seokjin sighs, then straightens his posture.

"Do me a quick favor before I hand up?"

"For you, anything."

"Wooow, cheesy, [Y/n.]"

"Be quiet or I might change my mind!"

"Can you show me the Castle? In the center of Nagoya? I'm sure your hotel can see it. You can see it from anywhere, pretty much."

Your smile softens at his request. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you step towards the balcony door. Even through the window, Nagoya Castle is stunning. Once the door is opened and you step out into the crisp air, you flip the view around so Seokjin can see what you do. The lights around the castle case brilliant golden light across the white and green structure.

"Wooow,"

he breathes, causing you to smile at the screen.

"That's just like how I remember."

"Wish you were here to see it in person."

"You know I would be if I could."

Flipping the screen around so that he can see you once again, you ask, "When can you use the time off you've built up? I didn't think there was anything you had to wait for after your first year."

"Not on paper there isn't," he nods, running a hand over his shortened black hair. "But you haven't been back in Korea since before then—way before then—and I can't leave the country while on leave, so..."

"You can take a day off without us being there, you know."

Seokjin shakes his head stubbornly.

"Not vacation time. Nope, I'm saving all that for when you come back."

"We'll be back for a few days when Joon and Hobi enlist, their ceremony and such," you mention.

"I know..."

His sentence trails off, awkward and hanging in the air. Your boyfriend's eyes avert yours, and something in his voice cues you to pry further.

Tilting your head slightly, you lean against the railing of the balcony. "Why the hesitation?"

"I'm not hesitating, it's nothing."

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. "You're a liar, Kim Seokjin. Fess up."

His lips pull into a smile, and his eyes flutter shut. Not out of exhaustion, as your own so desperately crave, but out of near-annoyance.

"I was going to surprise you, fool! I was going to take off those days and show up at the dorms without telling you...but I guess you read right through me."

To say your jaw dropped in surprise would be a huge understatement. Eyes gaping and breath caught in your throat, you gawk at your boyfriend as he bursts into laughter.

"Surprised, Jagi?"

"Um...yes! You—wait, how? What?"

"Korean, [Y/n]. You can rap for god's sake."

You shake your stun away, forcing watery eyes to remain held together. "You're serious? I'm really gonna see you in less than a month?"

Seokjin's laughter fades, but his eyes are still sparkling.

"Very serious. I've already gotten the time approved."

Tears prick your eyes, and you lower your head into your sweater sleeve to hide from his gaze. This only amuses Seokjin.

"Getting all soft on me again? Your cool exterior is crumbling."

"I hope you know that this is all your fault, you ass. I never used to be this close to crying all the damn time."

"It's cause you've been without me for so long, isn't it? I'm your cure."

The balcony door slides open, revealing a sleepy, disheveled, and unhappy Hoseok. He doesn't say a word, only glowers at you—whites of his eyes hardly visible as he squints—until you sigh, "Fine, I know, I know. Time's up." After which he nods once and disappears back into the hotel.

"I'll go,"

Seokjin agrees, voice lighter than when he first called.

"Gotta do some work sometime today."

You blow a kiss to the camera, one that he pretends to catch and hold against his chest, over his heart. "Love you, miss you, but you know all that."

"I do,"

he teases.

"Love you, miss you, even more."

The next morning, you're awake after most of the other members. The sound of Hoseok drying his hair brings you out of peaceful slumber, much to your grumpy chagrin.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" he cheers, already fully awake even before coffee.

You give him the universal sign of love and affection, otherwise known as the bird, and stumble towards the other bathroom. Hoseok giggles at your less-than-pleasant attitude and goes about his business as you struggle to get ready.

After stepping from the hotel room, refreshed and ready for the unplanned day, Jimin appears with a cup of coffee extended towards you. "Fuel for m'lady," he greets.

Grateful for the favor, you give him a swift hug and walk at his side towards the recreational area on your floor. Suited with a pool table, miniature bar, breakfast nook, dining and sitting area, it's a perfect place for the whole group to spread out and hang in the free time. Since the members and staff take up most of the rooms on this floor, you basically have it all to yourselves.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" you announce as you enter.

Taehyung looks up from his platter of local tamagoyaki; beside him, Namjoon continues to read the book in hand. "I don't think we've decided," the former states.

"The show isn't until tomorrow night, so we have time to kill," Jungkook states from the breakfast bar. He's piling every kind of Japanese breakfast cuisine he can find onto his plate. "Sejin says we can kill time here if we want."

"Or we can go out and explore with the managers," Hoseok adds as he enters the room. "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel claustrophobic."

"Agreed," you mutter. Taking a long sip from your coffee cup, you walk towards the breakfast bar and snag onigiri. Looking around, you make sure that the members are the only ones present. No managers, no staff, no cameras. "I have an idea."

At your lowered voice, you catch the youngest's attention first. Jimin grins in your direction, and you flash them both a mischievous wink. "Aigoo," Namjoon breathes.

"I think we all need to get out of here, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda wanna explore Nagoya like a local. No security, no managers, no babysitters. Think about it--when's the last time we did that?"

"Went out without Sejin or security, and outside of Korea?" Taehyung asks, and you nod. He takes a moment to contemplate, eyes flitting upwards as he thinks. "Honestly, I can't remember."

Hoseok pipes up. "Since before Wings, probably. We're never really alone anymore."

Sensing trepidation from the members, you hop up onto the back of the sofa, perched with legs crossed. You press the tips of your fingers against the opposite hand's, creating a mirror image of mischief in front of your wicked grin.

"Here's my proposal. I've been to Nagoya a couple of times with Seokjin. It's one of his favorite cities, so I know all the best spots for fun. I also know how to avoid staff for the same reason."

"Yeah, you're an expert," Namjoon scoffs.

You hold up a hand in his direction. "Be quiet, Bonsai Boy. The Queen is speaking."

"She's spent too much time with Jin-hyung," Jungkook murmurs under his breath, and you choose to ignore him for now.

"So...who's going to take a leap of faith and trust me?"

Jimin mirrors your folded-hands, then slowly moves to rub them together with a slightly evil chuckle. "I'm in."

"Of course you are."

Jimin grabs the Taehyung and Jungkook by the arm, dragging them closer to you. "They are, too."

Seeing neither Maknae put up an argument to the contrary, you turn your hooded gaze to the eldest members present. "What say ye, Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon?"

Hoseok begins bouncing on his toes, clapping his hands together as he turns towards the leader. His smile is bright and wide, earning a sigh and shake of the head from Namjoon.

He gestures towards you with a defeated smile, dimples showing at the corners of his mouth. "Lead the way, Ms. Queen."

Having the agreement from each member, you clap your hands once and announce, "All right! Everyone go grab what they want for an afternoon and evening out. Make sure to grab a cap or beanie and glasses so we can blend in. I'll text the managers and tell them we're going to be hanging out in my room and that we want some alone time. Done it before, and they've never bothered me so I think it'll work. Meet back here in two minutes."

"How do you expect to get out of the hotel without being seen?" Jungkook inquires as he removes his arm from Jimin's grasp.

You reach up and pat the younger boy on the head. "Don't worry. I'm magic."

As everyone scurries back to their rooms, you text Sejin along the way; you give the listed excuse, and then grab a jacket and shoulder bag. Hoseok tosses you one of his beanies, and you pair it with your sunglasses.

Once reconvened, you nod for the boys to follow you. Pressing a finger to your lips, you tip-toe down the hall. The members follow suit, equally as quiet and sneaky, like a series of ducklings behind the mother goose. Instead of going towards the elevator, you lead them to the opposite end of the hallway. The staircase is unmarked and unguarded, but you've stayed at this hotel before on a previous trip and remembered it from then.

Opening the door, you usher each of the boys inside. "Go to the second floor. There's a fire escape we can take from there that will put us outside the building without having to run into everyone waiting in the lobby or the fans outside."

"You're eerily good at sneaking around," Taehyung repeats the sentiment from earlier, though he's smiling instead of shaking his head.

Your grin widens. "Did I ever tell you that my first date with Seokjin involved us sneaking into a theater to hear the live orchestra perform?"

"That makes a lot of sense," Namjoon chides in his usual passive-aggressive tone.

Once outside the hotel, around the corner from the entrance where most of the fanatic fans and insistent reporters pool together, you turn to the boys with two thumbs-ups. "Free at last! So, where do we wanna go? I know the best miso katsu place you'll ever visit. Or maybe we do something outside...or maybe a bit of both! What are we feeling?"

"We just ate," Jimin states, patting his stomach to show he doesn't have any room for more food at the moment.

Tapping your chin, you think back across all of the times Seokjin had taken you on various tours of Nagoya over the years. It's at least half-a-dozen times at this point, and on those days, you'd had a variety of adventures. Food, art, thrills, history: he'd shown you them all. You've explored the Castle and various other historical shrines and temples, and you've been to just about every food market and restaurant in the Showa-ku and Kita-ku wards. Museums and galleries have been ventured, as have tours of local wildlife and expansive parks. There have been many a shopping excursion, and you're an idiot if you think that Seokjin hadn't taken you to an amusement park or arcade at least a couple times. Holiday festivals, cosplay summits, local music--you've done it all.

But there's one adventure you had two years ago that's stuck in your mind ever since, the one day you both had more fun acting like children than any other date prior. A massive grin spreads across your face, and you grab the two oldest members' hands, dragging them towards the nearest subway station.

"Woah! Where are we going?"

"The Meijo Line!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin​​​​, @gracehiii​​​, @live-2-fangirl​​​, @rjsmochii​​​​, @btsnatalena​