#if this convo hadn’t been interrupted.

[anthyies]

stephcass week day 2: first kiss (soon) (text from batgirl (2000) #38)

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.

You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.

The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.

He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him. 

He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”

"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"

He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S  F O R  T H E  B A B Y.

It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings. 

But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor. 

He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.

You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter  and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up. 

He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.

You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.

.

The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it. 

Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.

"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"

You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field. 

"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.

"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap. 

 “Right. That."

You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.

“Can I have yours???"

He had only sliced 4 cuts  for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you. 

Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.

"You gotta watch the salt intake—“

“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”

“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”

“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”

“What about the fist one?”

“….We split that.”

“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you. 

“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?” 

-

You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.

"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.

Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"

"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”

His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“

"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable. 

He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”

You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.

30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.

-

You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”

Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”

He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.

Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.

His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?

Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.

And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers. 

"Babe"

"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"

"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”

You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”

He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now. 

"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby  this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)

"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."

You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!" 

He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.

“So how about it?”

“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”

“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”

He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.

Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.

You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.

He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.

Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.

“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.

You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time! 

-

It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy

"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water. 

“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.” 

"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”

Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "

“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”

Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”

You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”

Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.

Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.

He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.

"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.

But you don’t move. “No"

"Now.”

"I want an orange.”

"No. You—you just had your snack."

"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.

Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.

You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam. 

You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.

You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.

Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.

“Yes?”

"Peel it.”

He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.

Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.

You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“

Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.

You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.

“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!" 

-

He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and  cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”

Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.

“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”

You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.

You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time. 

“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”

The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.

You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more. 

It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.

He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place. 

“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“

His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.

“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.

Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn. 

Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you. 

You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.

“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.

Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him. 

If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.

Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”

“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”

Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.

He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight. 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[stararch4ngelqueen]

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

[ay0nha]

When shall we meet again in thunder, lightning, or rain? | S.G. (I)

SUMMARY: You avoided addressing him directly, not quite due to fear but rather apathy. It took coaxing for you to even allow him to stay and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer.

PAIRING: Satoru Gojo x Fushiguro!reader (Megumi's aunt/Toji's sister)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: Found family vibes atm, slight enemies to lovers, reader and gojo figuring out their dynamic through emotion constipation, angsty convos and feelings, canon-typical things, kid megumi, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: This took longer than I thought, but I want to take my time and really put effort into this one, so I hope you all enjoy. BIG shout out to @benzywenzymeowmeow this wouldn't have happened without your help. Much love. Again, based on/inspired by @stsgooo's post (here!). Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts.

COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. PLEASE.

prologue part ii

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive—human. 

Your senses were perked. 

The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.  

You loved how you contrasted the city; your living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Megumi’s shuffling feet above you. The tranquility was still a fresh oddity. The new life created was a semblance of happiness. You traded hyper-vigilant nights for bedtime stories, cooking meals only for the kids for family dinners, and Gojo’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

The privilege that came with Gojo’s name made your stomach churn. It was simple at first, pushing Gojo into a subconscious level. However, the task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months for you to realize he was responsible. 

You were overdue for an interruption. You answered the door after the third knock. 

“Gojo.” The cigarette dangled from your lip and bobbed with every syllable. “Megumi’s asleep.”

“Already?” Gojo feigned surprise; his intentions were obvious that he wasn’t here for your nephew. “It’s only—

“Midnight.” You sucked in a crackling breath. With pointed eyes, you took his presence in. On your breath out, the smoke clouded his face, “What do you want?”

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He used your question as an invitation, pushing past the threshold. He was always amused learning more about you, able to store away the details for later torment. 

With a chastised drag, you smothered the tobacco on the closest thing. “I don’t.”

There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. You turned to smoking when you were young, disappearing seamlessly into a crowd that did the same. It grew into something that was seen as an extension of yourself—something nervously born only to be counterintuitive. 

You had gone to the store tonight for something so trivial that you struggled to remember what it was. The itch on your palm was a distraction from it all as you pointed for the pack behind the counter. It seemed like the right thing to do to combat stress, especially as you purchased a cheap lighter to follow through. 

It hadn’t been a comfort you thought it would be, but it was the only way you knew best to preoccupy yourself. You weren’t used to such repose surrounding you. You felt—safe. 

Now, each push forward felt unreliable and fuzzy. You didn’t like the way you felt so exposed. 

“Megumi’s getting stronger.” You couldn’t stand the idle silence, mainly when its weight rested on your shoulders. “The other day, this place was flooded with rabbits.” 

Gojo’s laugh flittered against the walls, challenging the warm breeze that swept through the place. It was apparent you hadn’t settled into the home completely; it was still devoid of personality and belonging. 

You hadn’t realized how each of Gojo’s visits revealed more. Something about seeing dishes in the sink and mail littering the counters lightened him. It was a simple indication that he was finally doing something right. 

“He’s a clever kid,” Gojo said lowly as if the neighbors would hear. His voice followed you even when you resumed your sedentary position, “He’s holding back, though…” 

“Isn’t that a good thing for you?” You were critical. You barely lifted your wrist, making a vague gesture of importance. “...and your so-called destiny…”

The constant friction between clans failed to excite you. It served as a reminder that those below them would most feel the repercussions. The day would come when the six eyes would meet the tenth shadow, and you would be left to clean up the mess. 

“It could be...” He answered so casually. You knew it’d be a lie if he promised you anything different. “...but that doesn’t mean Megumi shouldn’t reach his full potential.”

“How noble,” You cooed. 

Silence settled after the soft scoff to your chide. Often, you sat in silence, something Gojo was still learning to adapt to. If he had it his way, you would sit in rapture in his company. Yet, it was far more welcome than before. 

But the obvious question was still floating between you. 

Gojo could have entertained you with lies of being nearby. However, what drove him to your doorstep was a new sensation. It started in his chest, an unassuming feeling that he ascribed to staving off sleep. There became lesser justifications when it infiltrated every extremity. 

It had only become unbearable when missing posters began to overlap, the various faces becoming warped from exposure. The curses responsible were low-grade, but Gojo couldn’t ignore the threat even then. As they drew closer, he employed crows to line the telephone wires. Yet, he could only keep his distance for so long. 

“You’re stalling, Satoru…” 

You avoided addressing him directly, not entirely due to fear, but instead apathy. It took coaxing for you even to allow him to stay, and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer. 

“Tired of me already?” His smirk could be felt. 

“Something like that…” You sighed. “If you’ve come here to hide more of those things—” You sat up, reaching for the dingy box that stored a gifted cursed object. “—don’t.”

The object mocked you daily, occupying space it wasn’t meant to atop the living room’s end table. Although it was sealed deftly with layers of protection, you were convinced whatever was within was alive—living and breathing to torment you. The house felt heavy with something that breathed down your neck, and praying, you turned to face it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Playing coy wasn’t a strong suit for Gojo, not when he’d already hidden another cursed object just above the door frame. 

You hadn’t thought your paranoia was shared despite its contrast. For you, the odds were that harm would find you, and you’d be vulnerable to it all. However, Gojo could handle anything but never fared well with things threatening his control. His thoughts would begin to loop, slowly morphing into images that haunted his nights. 

It drove him to unassigned missions based on rumors of the whereabouts of cursed objects. The more he found, the deeper he placed them into the bones of the building you slept within. It took time for you to catch on, only finding these items when you cleaned, behind old books, in forgotten drawers, or in places just out of your reach. 

“Look—” Gojo started again, denying you the chance to argue. “Megumi’s getting stronger; you said it yourself.” He paused, treading carefully. “There will be a time when you wish these were enough.” 

—

Time passed fiercely. 

Megumi grew at a pace you could hardly keep up with. His sleeping figure was becoming too heavy for your hip, your dexterity failing as you felt for your keys. Then, you felt the weight shift on the opposite side of the door. 

Your struggle ended when it opened. 

“What are you—

“Shh—” Gojo held a finger to his lip, a smile imminent under it. “You’ll wake him.”

With your arms tucked under Megumi’s legs, you held him tightly to your chest as if the person before you was an intruder. Gojo watched as you slowly regained your composure, shoulders reflecting relief and the indent between your eyebrows evaporating.  

Even over the rim of his opaque glasses, Gojo knew better than to think his presence was welcomed. You readjusted your sleeping nephew lightly, frowning as you pushed past Gojo. You felt his footsteps copy your own, closely as if teasing the thought of bumping into you. 

The home was warm as if Gojo had been there for hours. Perhaps he was; you’d lost count of how long you’d been out. Especially as your arms grew tired and the river’s humidity still clung to your skin. 

“It’s late, Satoru…” You murmured over your shoulder. Your body melted from the exhaustion it carried, leaving droplets of yourself as a trail. “Whatever it is can wait…”

Gojo had always been blunt, frequently tactless in his childish rapport. However, he stood before you uncompromisingly as if your absence was a grave mistake.

“The door was unlocked—” His opaque glasses could shield his annoyance, but his words dripped with accusation. “—you weren’t here.” 

Your hold on Megumi remained secure. “He’s been having trouble sleeping.”

Megumi exchanged sleep for taming shikigami. He was diligent in understanding the world of jujutsu. You expected that alone to intimidate him, but he was already above it all, jaded about the idea of becoming a sorcerer. 

Although young, behind Megumi’s neutral expression was immense introspection. Despite his disposition, his morals weren’t laid bare yet, but he knew he wasn’t that person. That alone was enough to weigh him down.  

As his mentor, Gojo failed to notice. His focus was on your oversight. “Someone—something could have—”

“It was just a walk,” You sighed. 

The lights streamed in from the street you’d just wandered on. It cast shadows against the mess of the place. Your stress unravelled into the discarded, forgotten jackets sprawled on random chairs. 

Every surface had some mark that Gojo indulged in. They told stories he could piece together; the stains of coffee on the counter attributed to your tardiness. He could picture how you hurried before school, toast in your mouth as you fitted Megumi’s school tie and ruffled a free hand through his unruly hair. 

“He’s fine.” You promised with resignation. Gojo blinked back to the present, ignorant to how you misinterpreted his wistfulness for further criticism. “The walks help, I think.”

“You realize it’s the middle of the night, right?” He scoffed, pedantic with his dry laugh. “All my efforts, just for you to dangle yourself—

“Come on…” Your hum was half-hearted, looking at Megumi. “Lately, your efforts seem to be only convenient for you.” 

Walking away from the conversation, you did your best to keep busy. You were afraid that if you stopped moving, your world would collapse. If you stopped moving, time would consume you. 

The Zenin clan didn’t take Gojo’s loophole lightly. He responded with a few years worth of nurturing Megumi; money was siphoned to you for his care, a place was already carved for him at the school, and any sugar craving was indulged. 

That left you counting the seconds you still had with your nephew. The walks calmed you, holding Megumi so closely. His arms wrapped tightly around your neck to loosen as he was rhythmically rocked to sleep. 

You weren’t afraid to walk alone. With your whole words encased in your arms, there wasn’t anything you weren’t willing to do. Even if that meant letting go at the end of the night. 

Despite uncanny perception, Gojo was blind to how crushing that felt. 

“I can’t see what he sees, what you see.” You continued aloud. Gojo was wise to hold back on an ill-timed wind-up, able to hear your admission clearly. “But I can feel what it does.”

Megumi groaned lightly, eyebrows furrowing from your chest’s vibrations. You paused, waiting for him to settle again. The night was almost over, and you weren’t sure how long your posture could support your position. 

“Let him be a kid.” You whispered. 

Gojo’s heart had dropped to his stomach, the curtains behind you rhythmically moving in a dance that mocked him. The few words made his fingers twitch. The thought of turning into his worst nightmare was comforted by a tight breath. 

If he genuinely desired to foster the next generation—to have Megumi be his equal—any unsympathetic cruelty didn’t have space to exist. Gojo’s breath deepened, filled with promise. 

Pushing the brief turmoil out, a lightness took over him. “Are you inviting me over for a playdate?”

“He may have a funny way of showing it…” You started. Megumi could be aloof and quiet, but you knew him better than anyone else. His eyes lit up even when he complained about Gojo. “...but Megumi—

“My head’s big enough already.” Gojo stalked toward you, saving you both from something neither of you was ready for. “Let’s make a deal, hmm?”

Carefully, Gojo’s hands brushed under your arms. Their coolness made you prickle, almost taking a defensive position as he offered help.

“These strolls of yours.” He mused. “Call me.” Any protest was lost; all you could do was nod. “I’m overdue for fresh air.” 

The transfer was seamless as he took the weight of your responsibility into his own arms. Megumi was deep in sleep, unaware of how the strength of his mentor was enough to hold you up as well. 

Gojo jutted his head toward your room, hold confident on Megumi. “Go get some rest.”

[brighttears]

i love your characterization of Joel!! he’s just the perfect mix of protective and angsty and sweet!

id like to request a drabble or fic (whatever one you’re comfortable with) of Insecure! joel. Maybe it’s because of the age gap, or he feels like he can’t protect you well enough like younger guys can! i really loved the fic where he’s watching the reader sleep and the convo they have after it’s so sweet. Maybe a little bit of a continuation of that?

sorry if this is all over the place, and if you decide to write this then thank you! :)

Joel Miller x reader 

No physical description except for having hair, no use of y/n, completely gender neutral 

Warnings: language, mentions of death, age-gap, pet names (baby)

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: I know my writing has been lacking so I hope this isn’t trash and thank you for the request !! I enjoyed writing this :3

—

Joel smooths his hair back, sighing at the gray in his reflection. He turns his head to the side and pulls at the lines connecting his nose to his mouth, then his cheek down, which accentuates the tired gouges under his eyes. He inspects the crow’s feet reaching out to his temple. Are those freckles, age spots, or just being unclean? He’d never noticed before how much of his mustache and beard were near completely gray. The knuckles of the hand on his face are scarred on top of scars from decades of fistfights and beatings. To be fair, the cracked mirror is extremely dirty, but Joel knows that doesn’t make a real difference. At the sink in the grimy bathroom, Joel condemns his reflection. 

He’s old. Only recently had he realized this, or started paying real attention to it. With too much else to crowd his mind, Joel had almost forgotten his age; he hadn't had to think about it.

What really bothers him, aesthetics aside, is how his bones ache when the weather changes now, how his knees hurt and he’s out of breath when he walks up more than three flights of stairs. He reminds himself of his dad when he groans getting out of a seat and it takes him four times longer than it used to. 

What all this means is he’s growing less capable, and it’ll only get worse, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’ll only get slower and soon enough he’ll be deaf. He won’t be able to aim a gun or actually run. He snickers at the thought of dying from old age instead of a bullet. 

His real worry isn’t with himself, though: it’s always you first. If he can’t run, how will he get you out of somewhere when you need to escape? If he can’t hear, how will he know if someone’s sneaking up behind him? What if you’re screaming for him and he can’t hear you? What if he doesn’t notice a Clicker in time? If his vision goes and he loses his aim then he can’t hunt to feed you, not to mention that a gun is the first line of defense against everything. 

He’s been sure, pretty much since the day you met, that he is going to protect you until the day he dies, but he hadn’t been thinking about the threat of aging. 

Interrupting him, you push the door open and stroll into the bathroom. You come up behind him to slink your hands around him and knit your fingers together on his pudgy belly. Leaning to the side so that you can look at the reflection of you and him, your cheek presses against the side of his arm. Joel moves a hand over yours and sighs, a smile teasing his lips. 

“Look at you, pretty boy.” You tell his reflection. He titters. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinkin’… ‘bout how I look like I could be your dad.”

You pull away, playfully punch his arm and laugh, “Fuck off!”

“I do, though, look.” Joel takes your wrist to lightly pull you back to him at the sink, holding you by your middle behind you, he rests his chin on your shoulder so that faces are side by side in the mirror. 

Joel reaches a hand up to touch your hair, holding a piece up to be viewed. His head moves up and down from his stable chin as he talks, “My hair’s goin’ gray.”

“You’re a silver fox.” You counter. 

Joel chuckles. “Silver fox?” 

“Yes.” You turn in his arms to face him, “You trying to tell me you're ugly? Because you should know not to even try it.”

“I’m tryin’ t’say I’m old.”

“‘Old’ isn’t the first word that comes to mind." You reach up to run your hand through his hair, speaking to it, "But, first of all, it means you’ve made it far enough to start getting gray hair. And I mean, these days, people start going gray by the time they’re thirty. I don’t know why you’re so worried about it.”

“I’m not just talkin’ about the hair. I mean, I’m gettin’… less and less capable. Not that I was ever—” he pauses, deciding on different words, but they’re not much better, “I’m gettin’ worse.” 

“Worse?” Your forehead creases, “I don’t like this rabbit hole you’re going down.”

“It’s not a rabbit hole. It’s the truth.”

“Joel. The fact that you’re fifty six” Joel inwardly cringes at you saying his age out loud, “means that you’re more than capable. You should wear it as a badge of honor.”

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout how I feel about it, I’m talking about my faculties.”

“No, I know. I’m trying to say that your age represents how fucking good you are at surviving. It’s badass.” You raise your eyebrows at him. 

“I’m not concerned about me.” Is all he replies with. 

There’s a pause. You sigh and survey his face. “I trust you. I know you can keep me safe.”

Joel pulls away from you, frustrated, “That doesn’t matter. I mean, it matters, but that’s still not what I’m talkin’ about. I can try as hard as I want, and I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you safe, but what about when tryin’s not enough?” Joel’s looking at you, but not really—really, he’s flipping through the thoughts in his head, perfervid, “What about when tryin’ is too slow? When I can’t fight someone off’a me? Or you? What about when I go fuckin’ blind and can’t shoot a gun? I mean I’m already fuckin’ up, I can’t—I can’t—”

“Are you saying you want me to leave? I’m too much for you?”

“No, no baby no, I don’t want you to go please don’t go—”

“Joel, calm down.” You put your hands on his shoulders to get his attention but speak softly to bring him down, “You are getting in your head about this. Everything is ok. You’re fine, I’m fine.”

“But what about—“ 

“I don’t care, Joel, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is right now. That’s all I can afford, and your soul’s just as broke as mine is. Can you just be here, with me, now?”

“Yes, yeah, I can. You’re right baby I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be sorry Joel.” You smile, almost chuckling at him, “I’m not scolding you, you’re not in trouble for worrying.” You give him a short, soft kiss but he won't let it go, chasing your lips. He puts his hand behind your head to hold it in place and then brings the rest of him to you with his hand on your jaw. He repeatedly smacks your lips but deepens the kiss each time. And then you’re making out, which Joel loves to do because it makes him feel young again. When he pulls back away, you wrap your arms around his neck, naturally beaming. Joel takes notice of the wrinkles on your own face, the crow's feet and smile lines like his. He traces a finger over them. 

Sometimes the love makes his chest ache. His heart has a habit of making it feel like he’s already lost whatever it is it’s loving. Love and fear muddle together sometimes, and he's not always sure which one he’s feeling when he looks at you. All he knows is that no matter how tightly he holds you, you never feel close enough, and no matter how long he does, it always feels like you’re about to slip away. With his age, he’s not afraid of dying first, it is exactly the opposite; Joel is terrified of you dying first, because of him.

Part of him wants you to leave him, find someone younger, stronger, faster, still sharp, someone who can protect you better than he can. He’d even tried shoving you away once, but you would have none of it. That’s when he opened up for the first time about his insecurity with his age, and that was the first time you saw him cry. 

The rest of him says that he can’t live without you. What else is there left to do if it’s not for you? You are his risk, the twine holding him here, what keeps him awake, what reminds him that his skin can be supple. He is a shield, but he is built out of wood. 

You take both of your hands to caress Joel’s face and whisper, “Grow old with me.” 

He brings his hands over yours, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. Your finger twirls a lock of gray next his ear, thumb brushing down his cheek, palm on his patchy beard. He relaxes into your touch. From it, he knows where he is now, what’s real. He understands that you’re right here with him, safe and sound, letting him love you, and that’s what matters. Years and heart be damned, love ages, but it doesn’t get old.

[timefospookies]

Post Meursault arc ADA!Sigma and the average workplace convo 😋👍

“I fantasize about killing you a lot these days, I hope you know that.”

“I fantasize about killing me too! Any tips on how you’d go about it?”

Though Sigma almost choked on their own spit, no one else in the office seemed to bat an eye. Dazai, who had been silently bothering his work partner Kunikida for the better part of 20 minutes, had nearly gotten the poor man to snap. The poet tried to ignore that bastard the entire time, growing increasingly more agitated with each tease to the point Sigma feared he might explode. So when he finally threatened Dazai through gritted teeth, they felt inclined to fully believe his murderous intent. Kunikida twitched visibly, but made no move to spare his partner a single glance (whether that be to keep his own composure or to not satisfy Dazai was anyone’s guess).

”I'd hit you on the back of the head and toss you into the ocean.”

They couldn’t blame the guy, though. Sigma themselves had only known Dazai for, what, a month? And they couldn’t say the thought of killing him hadn’t slid through their mind at least once. But Kunikida had known him for YEARS. The bandaged man seemed to have this sort of cursed aura that made anyone within a 5 meter radius immediately want him dead, so it’s a miracle he was still standing in one piece. Dazai, on his end, leaned back into his chair in disappointment.

“How unceremonious of you, Kunikida,” he huffed, bored, “Can’t you do better than that?”

“Why, you…”

The man took a deep, shuddering breath to ground himself. He balled his hands into fists as he exhaled.

“Just. Get back to work.”

“Hey, wait, now you’ve got me curious,”

Both of the men and Sigma glanced at the end of the room towards the source of the voice. Ranpo, the super detective, had glanced up from his handheld to look at Kunikida. Now that he had their attention, he popped the lollipop out from his mouth and began to wave it around as he elaborated.

“You’d kill him via blunt damage, but with what? Where? When? How would you dispose of his body? I know you’d toss him in the ocean, but how would you go about it? Would you stuff him in the trunk of your car? Take a boat? How would you conceal his body?”

Sigma shifted uncomfortably in their seat. He is a detective, so with the amount of murders he must see on the daily must make for a pretty effective reverse engineered murder plan. However, this topic of conversation was rather unsavory for an Agency who was supposed to jail murderers, not become them. Kunikida, on the other hand, looked at the detective like he’d suddenly been enlightened.

“Good point…” he muttered.

Good point?!

“Hadn’t thought about it in detail, huh?” Ranpo smirked.

“No, I suppose not,”

Dr. Yosano, the Agency…well…doctor, spoke up.

“Me, personally? I’d tie him up, chop him into little pieces, and flush them down the toilet,”

Oh, so now they’re actually planning Dazai’s murder in front of him, that’s nice. Sigma glanced at the bandaged man in terror only to find him absolutely delighted with the situation. They didn’t know what else they expected out of him, honestly.

“Now, that’s an interesting way to go!” he chirped, “Though the chopping bit sounds rather unpleasant,”

“You’re getting murdered, it’s not supposed to be pleasant!” Kunikida snarled.

“I was just saying…”

“Sounds like an awful lot of blood,” Ranpo mused, interrupting, “What would you do about a mess that size?”

Then the little farm boy, Kenji, chimed in cheerily.

“Just kill him at a meat factory! No one would suspect random blood puddles at a meat factory!”

Consequently, Jun'ichirō, the illusion ability user, piped up as well.

“I feel like that would open up more problems than solutions though…” he said sheepishly, “Like, how would you even get into the meat factory?”

 “Are there any meat factories in Yokohama?” the doctor asked.

Dazai sighed, spinning in his chair.

“Not anywhere nearby, I reckon. You’d have to get me there first, and trust me, kidnapping is as much a hassle for you as it is for me.”

Kunikida spoke, thinking out loud more than anything.

“So dismemberment is too complicated, and blunt damage is too elaborate..” 

He suddenly perked up, in what Sigma could guess was…excitement.

“What about a staged suicide?”

Murmurs of agreement spread throughout the office.

“That’s more believable,” Ranpo said, nodding approvingly.

“Not just that, but you’d barely leave a trace,” Dr. Yosano added, “Just spike his drink and you’re done!”

But Dazai hummed once more, pondering over the idea in dissatisfaction.

“You’d need an ungodly amount of poison though…” he grumbled, deeply troubled, “I’m terribly resistant, you know? What could kill and elephant could give me a mild tummy ache,”

“Oh my god, never say tummy,” the doctor cringed. 

“My tummy wummy~”

The room was, again, filled with noise, only this time it was that of collective groans of disgust and Dazai’s vile cackling.

“See?! This is why people want you dead, Dazai!” she cried, “God!”

“Wait, okay, wait,” Jun'ichirō intervened once everyone had calmed down, turning his chair to face the man, “You’re not affected by any type of poison? Like, not even the strongest created or something?”

“Nope! I’ve tried it all before and-”

“WHAT?!”

Kunikida shot up from his seat and slammed his hands on Dazai’s desk- the latter looked up at him like a dog who'd been wrongly accused of something.

“What do you mean ‘what’? This is useful information!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘WHAT DO I MEAN’?! I-! WHY-!”

In his absolute red-faced bewilderment, the poet fumbled over his words way longer than any regular person should. Dazai didn’t seem to mind as he patiently awaited his partner’s response. 

“D-! DON’T DRINK POISON!” he finally sputtered.

“I wasn’t going to,”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

And with that, the poet brought his iron fist down on the man’s head, and the impact seemed to shake the room. Dazai sprung to life.

“OW, WHAT THE HELL?!” he cried, comically gripping his head in terror, “KUNIKIDA, DO YOU WANT ME DEAD OR NOT?!”

Sigma honestly wondered the same thing. 

“YES. NO?! IT’S COMPLICATED, OKAY?!”

Kunikida grabbed his partner by the collar and began to shake him around forcefully, bringing Hell down as he continued to yell and as the other resumed his complaining. What is happening? Sigma involuntarily grinned in grim confusion.

“Is this…normal?” they wondered out loud.

“Pretty much,”

Sigma yelped, their soul nearly leaving their body in surprise. 

“How long have you two been standing there?!” they cried.

The realization that Atsushi (Dazai’s mentee) and Kyōka (Atsushi’s mentee) had been standing behind them (possibly through the whole ordeal) struck them uncomfortably hard.

“Tummy wummy,” the two chorused in response.

It seemed no one’s ears were spared from Dazai’s horrible words. 

Sigma made a face, feeling generally disoriented, and Atsushi chuckled nervously as he waved his hands around in an attempt to comfort them.

“H-Hey, don’t worry, you’ll get used to it!”

“You’ll have to if you want to leave work psychologically unscathed every day,” the girl then deadpanned.

“Kyōka..”

How comforting. 

‘You’ll get used to it’, huh? The tiger boy didn’t look exactly convinced of that either as he stared at his arguing seniors with a tired look of amused disappointment. Sigma soon realized that the same look was plastered on all of the Agency members’ faces. What a bizarre thing this was- the weird dynamics of these peculiar people. What was even more bizarre was the look of genuine fondness in everyone’s gaze. Did they hate each other? Did they care about each other? Is it just both? Did this feeling of endearment and annoyance apply to everyone beyond just these two idiots? Sigma sighed as they felt themselves relax, just a little bit. How truly, truly bizarre…they’d get used to it.

[sadesluvr]

Gender Neutral, pantie stealer Henry?

A/N: Hi Anon, thanks for being patient! This felt ooc for me to write as Henry so I hope it’s okay :) He’s also younger in this, so pre Charlie.

He hadn’t meant to do it.

It had been an accident, shoving his clothes in the laundry as he hoped to finish his book by the end of the cycle, when a cottoned fabric had fallen out onto the floor. It was something fairly common to happen in an apartment building, where everyone shared a washer. Usually he tossed things to the side - and in theory, he should’ve - until he remembered that you’d put a load in before him.

You were his neighbour, and had been for some time. He remembered meeting you when he’d moved in, fresh off his Masters degree and ready to enter the world. You’d had a smile that could light up a room; and your bright, if not a little pitchy voice as you’d sung walking up the stairs had been ingrained in his mind forever.

It was then that he’d taken the courage to befriend you. What started off as occasional knocks to deliver the paper turned into full-fledged night outs at the bar after work. It was the classic case of what started off as friends, turned into more. At least for him, of course.

Which was why he’d picked up your underwear and held it to his chest before giving it a little sniff. It was disgusting, no one over the age of 18 would ever do such a thing, but here he was. It smelt of you; your most private and intangible parts outside of your regular scent, and it drove him wild.

Taking the piece of clothing back to his apartment, he made a beeline for his bedroom. He’d barely flopped on his bed before he took his aching cock out, tugging on the length with one hand as he pressed his nose into the material. He thought about where you might’ve worn them - to a hookup or just to the supermarket, even - and what day you had them on. Had he seen you at all? Engaged in your usual mailbox convos? Shared pizza, even?

He didn’t know. All he could envision was how sexy they looked on your semi-nude body, an image that caused him to let out a deep groan as he jerked himself off further, precum coating his fingers as he squeezed his tip.

This was the type of shit he’d be scolded for; caned in the palm by an authority. Henry had always been a good boy, but he’d soon realised that he was nothing but a desperate man…All because of you.

He imagined what the rolled up material would look like sliding down your legs, parting them to reveal your bare privates. Fuck, he wanted you - He wished he could be as confident as his friend William and just say it.

A knock on the door came just as he began to feel his legs buckle and cock twitch in anticipation. He hurriedly tucked his dick back into his pants and frantically wiped his hands on his shirt as he rushed to the door.

His heart dropped upon seeing you.

“Hey, Henry,” you beamed. “I was just wondering if you needed anything - I’m running to the store…” you said, trailing off as you looked down unexpectedly. To your surprise - and glee - you could tell that he was hard.

“Uh — Yeah, I need, um—“ he stumbled, cheeks reddening as he covered himself.

“I’m sorry…” you lulled, peering into his apartment. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No — Um, actually —“ he continued, and you didn’t wait around for an answer. Before you knew it, you were interrogating every inch of his four walls, stopping as you glanced down to the object on his bed.

Your underwear.

You hadn’t even realised it was missing.

“Henry…”

“I’m sorry!” he said frantically, shaking his head as he did, desperate to find the words. “I-I didn’t — I —“

“Do you like me?” was all you said. It was ominous, but there was a gleam in your eye as you spoke that told Henry otherwise.

“I-Um…Yeah?”

Was he asking you or telling you?

“Huh,” you laughed, clicking your tongue as you mused on the fact. You wondered what he looked like in the heat of the moment; face flushed and lips wet from your fluids…Gorgeous.

Henry held his breath as he watched you cock your head.

“You dirty boy,” you giggled, patting his arm before you flopped onto his bed, playing leisurely with your underwear. “Why don’t you come and have the real thing instead?”

[kyurizeu]

#18 - I missed you. (Im)possibly fate

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Recent - masterlist - next

Warnings: cursing, awkwardness, boring ass convos, bad grammar

Word count: 1,2k

A/n: hello everyone! I’m trying to come back to tumblr tho it really hard because i have no ideas for stories. So help is very much appreciated! I havent proofread this (oops)

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

The week had passed quicker than expected. You hadn’t had any energy or motivation the whole week because your biggest energy source wasn’t there. You were way too scared to go talk to Jungwon as a result of possibly irritating him again, so you decided it would be best if he just thought about it alone. Although it did pass your mind to go talk to him and make him feel bad about being distant, you knew it was unfair; you were in the same situation after all. You felt like he was mad because for the whole week he didn’t send a single message, not even a "gm" or gn," so you were anxious about seeing him again, especially with the same conversation. It would’ve been smarter to text him and get all of the worries out of the way, but before you knew it, it was Thursday morning, and you had to talk the whole thing over again.

Just like your everyday routine, you got ready and left the dorm with your members. The day's schedule was filled with a couple meetings, scheduling, and promotions, and later in the evening, the most important thing was an interview with Jungwon about the song.

You sighed and sat down in the meeting room. You were the first one there, which was definitely not fun. Whoever is the first person to be in the meeting room has to wait for everyone to come separately and stay quiet and awkward when there's only one or two just sitting. So you took out your phone and scrolled on it, afraid to look up when someone entered the meeting room. "Good morning, yn," said Jungwon. You looked up at him, trying to read his facial expression to match his feelings. Oh, hello, Winnie," it was so awkward. You two hadn’t spoken in a week and were a couple; the room atmosphere was so uncomfortable. Should you even call him "babe" anymore, or does he want to break up? You started to fidget with your fingers while overthinking everything until your thoughts were interrupted by him again. "look umh… Things have been a little strange between us the past week, but I just want you to know that I’m not mad or anything." He sat down across the table. "I didn’t text you because I tried to give you space. I realised that it could seem like I’m trying to pressure you to make up your mind." "I did that too." It was still strangely awkward, but you just needed to say something. "Jungwon?" He looked back up at you from his phone. "I missed you so much." Your lips formed a straight line. Jungwon got up and gave you a warm hug, and without a word, you felt so much more comfortable. "I missed you too, sweetie." Just then the meeting room doors opened and more people came in. Jungwon didn’t sit back on his original chair, but now next to you. The meeting started about 3 minutes later.

Okay, so today we have arrangements. We need to plan the meetings, interviews, promotional activities, and the rest of the week so they fit into both Jungwon’s and Yn’s schedules. But first we have the big question. Jungwon and Yn wanted to take it into consideration to let them make their relationship public. What do we do?" Your manager started

Well, um, me and Jungwon took some time thinking about our opinions on it separately." You stated this, and Jungwon nodded next to you.

Okay, so what do you two think?"

"I was thinking about pros and cons for both scenarios. I came to the conclusion that, in my opinion, It’d be better if we went public."

Jungwon finally told me which decision he ended up with.

"Don’t you think that it’s more on the bad side to go public, though? The public is spreading rumours and isn’t making things easy for either of you." His manager spoke up.

"Of course the fact that the public is suspicious and spreading rumours about us isn’t good and would hurt our case, but they have in fact spread them for a while now, meaning that they have become a little normalised, which takes away the problem, plus my fans haven’t sent anything weird to live comments or anything like that, unlike when the rumours started a little over a week ago."

You stared as Jungwon defended his decision, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he was explaining everything. His hands waving in the air made cute gestures, and his brows moved up and down, making him look more convincing. His dimple popped up on his cheek at times when he was talking, and your mind told you to boop it with your finger, but then you heard your name being called out.

O-oh, yes, what?"

"Which choice do you find more smart?"

Oh, yes, well.. I thought about how our future in our careers would go in both directions, and I have to admit that our careers would suffer a little from going public, but then I thought about our future together, which has nothing to do with our careers. I realise that we can survive a little damage, no matter if it’s with our careers or not, or even a lot of damage, when we have each other. I assume also Jungwon’s but especially my career would get a little damage from either situation since being away from Jungwon would take a lot of energy and motivation from me. I learned that this week. I would be able to get through rumours, hate, scandals, and god knows what else if I had Jungwon by my side. So going public Is definitely my choice."

You nodded at your manager after letting your thoughts out, and he gave a quick glance at Jungwon, as did you. He was smiling cutely, and he looked back at you. "Well.. i guess if we can plan the rest of the week in this meeting, i guess that’s what we will do, unless our plans clash with going public. See, we haven’t planned anything where you two would have the opportunity to announce it."

"Well, we don’t have to do some big splashy reveal. We could just go live and tell everyone, or maybe walk hand in hand somewhere and let the news spread."

Ooh, does that mean I can post the cute picture I have of myself in your hoodie?" You turned to your boyfriend, who chuckled in response. "Not the best way to announce this," he said, patting your head, and you fake pouted. "Let’s discuss the reveal when you get better ideas; we need to do a lot more."

And so the meeting ended happily, just as you wanted it to. Jungwon and you walked out of the room, and he pulled you into a big hug again. "The explanation why you wanted to go public was so cute. God, I really do love you," you smirked, looking up at him while you were squished between his arms and chest. He gave you a quick peck, and you two had to leave to do your own work for the day.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Taglist:

@harperwasstaken @strwberrydinosaur @letapostropheesgo @yngwife @chogolei @ddeonmixx @j-wyoung @xiaoderrrr @vivibelov3d @ablackbtsstan @chaechae-23 @vizstars @tlnyjoong @ahnneyong @deobitifull @jungwonnieee @yumilovesloona @ikeu4life @nyxtwixx @s02zjy @choclate32 @soobiverse @maimoirs @gigi-honeyjaes @kimiplx @jakeify @sullkyoons2 @hoonieluv @minnesueng @luvmura

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 3 of 21 Questions

(better interface on wattpad)

Matt had just been chilling in his room when he heard his phone. His brothers – triplets actually – and he were spending the evening alone on their own as they had spent the whole day together filming for their YouTube channel. It had only been two years and a half since they started making content but they were already quite popular on social media. As Matt thought it was either Chris or Nick asking him to drive them somewhere – Matt was the only one among them with a driver’s licence, he took his phone, mentally preparing himself to get dressed and leave the comfort of his bed.

With an obvious surprise on his face, Matt unlocked his phone and saw that it was actually an unknown number that had texted him.

**********

Heyy stranger, wanna play 21 questions? :)

Matt was confused because he wasn’t used to receiving actual texts from random people, except for an occasional wrong number which he would never respond to. As he thought about how he didn’t have anything to do at the moment, why not play.

And so, as Matt replied to the stranger, he learnt that the girl on the other side of a screen was almost the female version of his brother Nick: she loved autumn and had a nose ring – ok it’s not much but this was enough to compare the two. The conversation was nicely flowing between the two teenagers until Matt ended up being called by his youngest brother as Chris was in need of McDonald’s at ten o’clock. Therefore, he had to quickly find a way to leave the girl he was talking to on his phone and took the opportunity of discovering that she was a cat person to funnily exit the discussion, hoping not to appear rude to her – well he was a bit, mystery girl and her best friend had judged him a lot.

~~~

During the next couple of days, Matt actually forgot about the girl who had texted him on a random evening. To be fair, his brothers and he had been busy filming – they had come back from tour last month and settled back into their usual routine. This was the reason why Matt hadn’t responded to the girl. Of course, he wasn’t feeling guilty as they weren’t even friends – yet – but when he saw on the Messages application that he had unread texts from her, Matt remembered that he actually had a good time talking to the mysterious girl; and the fact that his day was sort of over – over in the sense that Chris already ate and thus wouldn't be interrupting Matt again – pushed the middle triplet to get back to know the cat person who he had suddenly abandoned. Now opening their conversation, Matt finally read the last messages from a few days ago.

**********

I’m not apologising tbh

Bc i love my cat with my whole heart

He’s the best

I hope you were joking bc our convo was fun

Anyways, bye then-

Hi stranger, our convo from yesterday was really nice so I hope you might still wanna play even tho  I'm a cat person and you're a dog person but yk what they say: opposites attract :)

Matt had not expected her to re-engage the conversation the day following their first one but he hoped that it was not too late to come back to her.

*********

Good evening stranger, ig I’m a bit late to the party

Been a few busy days lately but if you’re still down it could be fun to continue our game

(dw ab the cat thing, it was maybe too much from me)

While Matt was waiting for the girl to reply – how long it would take, he had no idea as she could be living on the other side of the world and currently sleeping, he tried to make an effort of thinking about a couple of questions he could ask. Matt wanted to keep things engaging, even though they were just getting to know each other. In any case, it was either Saturday or Sunday for his chatmate so he would probably get an answer before the week-end was over.

Matt actually only had time to brush his teeth and change into his pyjamas after a short shower when he heard his phone. Curiosity took over him as he quickly grabbed his phone and a light smile appeared on his face when he saw the positive reply from the girl.

*********

Good evening stranger, ig I’m a bit late to the party

Been a few busy days lately but if you’re still down it could be fun to continue our game

(dw ab the cat thing, it was maybe too much from me)

Hiii!

No worries, we each have our life so you had some right to be occupied w smth else

(i think i can forgive you for that, we’ll see later)

Matt felt relieved in the sense that talking so light-heartedly to someone completely unknown was calming in a way. From the little conversation they had had a few days ago, he already knew that this would be a safe place where he wouldn’t be judged – apart from liking dogs more than cats. He decided to immediately write back for he wanted to get to know the girl better.

**********

Glad we’re ok now

By rereading our last messages, I see that it should be your turn to ask a question so I’ll wait for it

Ok ok lemme think quickly

We’re gonna start back w smth simple i hope

What’s your go-to comfort food?

My stomach needs to take over for this question

I feel like it’s an easy one but I have multiple choices rn

It’s ok, give me a top 3 ig

So I’d say tacos, nuggets and pasta

(in no particular order)

I want YOUR top 3 now

Yepp ofc

Mine would be pizza, sushi and fries maybe

No particular order as well

Yours are absolutely valid

I fuck with pizza and fries but not sushi sorryy

If I were fucking petty I would leave the convo like you did

But I’m not, soo :))

That’s low

I deserve it tho

Self-aware king!

We need to find common ground tho

Like a question we FULLY agree on

So much pressure on me rn

This is a serious question (like every other one honestly) so you can only choose the right answer

Damn pressure on ME now

It’s technically a double question if you answer negatively to the 1st one

Do you play pokemon? Or have you played as a child?

OMG

HAND IN MARRIAGE NOW

WHAT

WHY

(DO I NEED TO SCREAM TOO?)

BRO

I LOVE POKEMON

(AND YEAH WE SCREAMING RN)

REALLY???

YEAH OFC

MY ENTIRE CHILDHOOD

Even nowadays i still play sometimes

Wow

I wasn’t expecting that

I mean I was hoping

But it’s really nice to know that you do

Which ones do you like?

My faves are probably X and sapphire alpha

Honestly just the ones on DS bc they slay

Like

I don’t have the nintendo switch so I stopped buying the latest games

But i like to come back to them sometimes

And i also played a couple on game boy color as well

Ok ok good to know

I’m more of a pokemon go guy tbh

Like when I’m driving I have this thing that catches pokemon for me

That is so cool!!

I’ve never really been keen on pokemon go

But the whole universe in general has always looked amazing to me

Yeah I totally agree

See

This is common ground

Yayy you’re right :))

I thought of a next question but you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable

Go ahead dw I’ll tell you if I am :)

What’s your name?

I can even tell you mine first if you prefer

I just don’t wanna keep calling you the random guy I texted

And maybe putting a contact name would be nice😅

Matt unconsciously started typing his name when he paused to think about it: this was a stranger – a nice one though, there was no way she would find out who he was just from the information he had given her. How many Matts out there in the world have brothers, love pokemon and dogs? Quite a lot he hoped. This is fine, what are the odds? – turns out that the odds were actually pretty fucking huge from the beginning but let’s not spoil it and just keep the foreshadowing light.

**********

My name’s Matt

I don’t mind giving it out, it’s fine

Not like you asked for my fucking address lol

Bro I would never- this would be so messed up

I’m Lily btw

Nice to meet you Matt

Nice to meet you too Lily

As Matt and Lily were both finally able to change the contact name of the other, their faces were illuminated with genuine smiles due to the bond they were creating. And although it was simply the beginning of a blooming friendship, the door to a new chapter of their lives was about to open.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[leaderpinhead]

Cater - An Invisible Mask

Cater loudly sighed and twirled a strand of hair around his finger. For all the hype he’d heard about NRC, the opening ceremony was kinda...lame. They’d been standing here for what felt like hours now, each student going up to chat with the Dark Mirror before shuffling off to their designated dorm. Cater almost regretted having a last name starting with a letter at the beginning of the alphabet. The anticipation would’ve lingered longer if he hadn’t been placed in Heartslabyul Dorm already. Other than that, the most excitement he’d had was watching the staff scramble to find the infamous Malleus Draconia, who (according to a tiny fae at least) had simply lost track of time. 

His next sigh caught the attention of the guy in front of him, who quickly glanced over his shoulder. Trey Clover—Cater was pretty sure that was the guy’s name. He had given Cater a friendly smile when he joined the line of Heartslabyul freshmen after his own placement. Cater tugged a little harder on his hair, his frown feeling almost heavy. It wasn’t until he accidentally caught Trey’s eye that he gave the guy a friendly grin. 

“Maddox Wogan!” 

The headmage’s energetic cry didn’t match the polite applause the other students gave. The housewardens, all of them properly lined up at the front of each dorm’s line, looked just as bored as Cater felt. Cater’s hand twitched towards the phone in his pocket. Everyone was so zombified at this point, there was no way they’d notice him flipping through Magicam. 

He was so focused on slyly checking his phone that he almost missed the Dark Mirror’s spiel about soul searching the next guy into a dorm. His bubble of disinterest shattered when another voice cut off the Dark Mirror. “How has your day been?” 

The Dark Mirror stopped mid-sentence. The entire room fell silent. Even the headmage stood off to the side without interfering, a curious hum being the only noise he made. To Cater’s shock, the Dark Mirror answered. “It has been quite fine. Thank you for asking.” 

“Of course,” the boy said with a slight nod. “It would be considered rude not to ask.” 

“So it is,” the Dark Mirror intoned. “According to your soul, you shall be placed in Dia—.” 

“Do you not plan to ask of my day in return?” Maddox interrupted again. Cater couldn’t tell from the inflection of his voice if he was upset or not. He almost sounded like some robot spouting a pre-recorded convo. “That is extremely rude in itself. The polite course of conversation is as so: How has your day been? Quite fine, thank you, and how has yours been? How nice of you to ask. I’ve been a bit under the weather lately, but we must move forward as life does go on. Have you heard what that cod Harold did the other day? Why, no, I did not! Well, he’s a fine loser, he is. Thought he could skimp out on the jam during a tea party. Gasping for dramatic effect. How could he? To skimp on the jam is a cardinal sin! That’s what I told him, but he insisted on being in the right. Was he prosecuted for such a heinous deed? Unfortunately, not, but I reported him to the Association of Jam and Toast Tea Party Equality. I hope he is henceforth banned from all tea parties. Indeed, as do I. End scene.” 

An enthusiastic clap sounded from the small group of Savanaclaw students. Cater watched the clapper sweep his hood off to reveal tangled blond hair. “Bravo!” 

“My apologies then,” the Dark Mirror said after a long pause. “I shall remember that social cue if such a situation occurs again. Now, you shall be placed in Pom—.” 

“What does it take to become an infamous artifact of profound legend?” Maddox interrupted again. Cater was starting to get the impression the guy didn’t care what others might think of him. He was literally just saying what he felt the moment it came to his mind. “Do you confirm the theories of knowing the Fairest Queen herself? I myself am descended from a long line of hatters, one of which was my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, twice-removed, great grand uncle who acclaimed to have been a hatter for the Queen of Hearts. He was a bit mad, so not everyone in the family believed him. But he did indeed make hats. Or at least one hat we can confirm. Speaking of...” 

Cater nearly choked on his own spit when Maddox whipped out a wide-brimmed hat from beneath his robes. He carefully placed it on the top of the Dark Mirror’s frame. The bright green and red feathers fluttered out from the bright yellow sash. “Happy Hat Day.” 

The green-tinted face within the mirror looked very unamused, but Cater could only see half of its frown when the oversized hat drooped down one side of the frame. Cater slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a snort. “Maddox Wogan: I hereby place you within—.” 

“Almost forgot.” Maddox pulled out another hat from his robes. He pulled off his hood and placed the worn, dark green top hat on his own head. A hand mirror with a sticker of a smiley face on the glass rested in the purple sash. The hat was a size too small for him, but his kinky curls managed to keep it properly situated on his head. “In honor of you, great mirror of legend.” 

Cater bit the tip of his tongue and snapped a picture. He’d have to figure out some captions later, but it was definitely going on his Magicam. The Savanaclaw student started clapping again, and Cater could have sworn he saw Vil Schoenheit shaking his head amongst the Pomefiore freshmen across the room. 

“Mr. Wogan,” Crowley finally said. Cater couldn’t really tell what the headmage thought of the whole ordeal since his mask obscured most of his face while the hand cupping his chin hid the rest. “While I admire your forethought, perhaps you should allow the Dark Mirror to place you in a dorm now. As you have already brought up the concern for etiquette, it is quite rude to interrupt another so many times.” 

“Of course.” Maddox dipped his head. Cater admired the fact that his hat sat in the exact same position despite the change of angle. “My apologies. I shall absorb your wisdom with my very soul.” 

From anyone else, Cater would have interpreted the statement as some sort of quick snide. From Maddox? Cater really wasn’t sure the guy had a filter at all, and that was saying something after only knowing him for five minutes! 

The Dark Mirror emitted a sigh the likes Cater had never heard before. “Your soul is a...fickle one. You will benefit the most from Heartslabyul Dorm.” 

Maddox solemnly nodded and marched over to the line of Heartslabyul freshman. Cater avoided making eye contact by flipping through the pics on his phone. He felt more than saw Maddox abruptly stop beside him. When his eyes flicked up for the quickest second, he found Maddox staring at him through squinting lids. Cater’s eyes narrowed in response. “What?” 

The narrowed expression flattened. Maddox shrugged and continued marching. “You were just a nice shade of yellow, but now you’ve returned to gray. It doesn’t match the smile you give everyone.” 

Not knowing how to respond, Cater let Maddox go to the back of the line without stopping him. Trey lightly chuckled in front of him and pulled on the hood covering his head. “This class is shaping up to have some interesting characters.” 

Cater waited for Trey to turn back towards the Dark Mirror, who was insisting Crowley not touch the hat slowly slipping down its frame. He slightly twisted to look over his shoulder. Maddox stared off into space at the back of Heartslabyul’s line. Cater twisted back around, but he almost felt compelled to keep glancing back at the odd boy. 

Yellow? Gray? Cater had no idea what Maddox was talking about, but it gave him this strange sense of...Cater didn’t really know what. But it made him feel a lot lighter than the handful of likes and reposts he got later when he posted a selfie in the new room he shared with Trey and two other freshmen. 

[reflection-s-of-stars]

The Least I Can Do

It is the birthday of @falst aka Scar aka Magnus aka a lovely person and great mutual so here is a fic! It’s set after the current arc finishes, and it’s just a little Alinua + Falst convo! I haven’t done one of these in a while so just bear with me <3

Being healed felt nice. Really nice.

This might’ve seemed obvious to anyone else, but it was new for Falst. He was rapidly realizing he’d never been properly healed before- lacrimal life magic was the closest, but it had felt strange, old and dry and vaguely disapproving. But Alinua’s healing magic felt fantastically sweet and new. The little tendrils of magic reaching into his wounds weren’t sucking Falst dry like before. They felt like being hugged, like being washed down with warm water.

Not that he needed it, of course. Alinua was just doing him a favor, like she always did after her friends got hurt.

“It’s the least I can do,” she kept saying. She liked repeating things, as if saying them over and over made them truer. That was also nice, though Falst couldn’t pinpoint exactly how.

She also liked to ask questions. That was less lovely, but he played along.

“What were the catacombs like?” “Dark.”

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” “Not really.”

“What else do you wanna talk about?” “Dunno.”

Maybe he wasn’t playing along that well, but he was hurt. She could bear with him for a minute.

The sun was rising. The sky was beautiful this time of day. Alinua seemed to agree: the little life-tendrils were going a bit slower, and her eyes were wide, staring just above Falst’s head.

“They’re nice, right?” he offered as a conversation topic.

“Yeah,” she almost whispered. “I always like looking at them through the trees.”

“Not much else to do when you live in the woods.”

“I get that,” she laughed.

He cocked his head. “You lived in the woods?”

Alinua nodded, returning to the scratches on his arm. “Didn’t Erin tell you?”

“Oh yeah,” he offered, rather uselessly. Falst vaguely recalled the explanation given by Erin for Alinua’s weird abilities, but the technical terms eluded him, so he’d forgotten most of it. It had something to do with the Chimeric Plague, but the last he’d heard of that involved its sufferers barely making it to five years old, so who knew.

“How long were you…” he struggled for a word- “in there?”

“Living the green life?”

Falst snorted. “That’s a hell of a way to put it.”

“I like it,” Alinua giggled. “Ten years, by the way. What about you?”

He paused, counting on what few fingers he could use.

“Twelve,” he said, then thought better of it: “Twelve-ish. Maybe thirteen.”

“You win.”

“I guess.”

The sky was yellow by now. No, it was gold- not gold like Tess’s skin or like Kendal’s hair, but gold like Falst’s eyes. Gold like the cat’s eyes he got from his father.

Thirteen years.

“What day is it?”

It was Alinua’s turn to frown and count. “Fifteenth day of the eighth Sindahlan, why?”

“I think it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Alinua didn’t say anything. She broke her magic from his arm. The absence felt slimy and cool, like touching a slug, but not unpleasant like Falst had anticipated.

The mage turned away from him. Her hair shook as she worked on something he couldn’t see. It was a little bit green and a little bit pink, a little bit glowy and a little bit sweet-smelling. When Alinua turned back around, she held a big red fruit in her hand.

“Happy birthday,” she said. “I couldn’t exactly wrap it, but I hope you like it.”

Falst didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t gotten a birthday gift in… well, in thirteen years. He took it from her hand. It was hard enough that his claws didn’t dig into the shell unless he applied pressure.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least-”

“Yeah, I get it,” he interrupted, but he couldn’t hide a smile. “It’s the least you could do.”

“Do I really say it that often?”

“Yep.”

[theferricfox]

[[A/N: it's another fic inspired by a convo on Discord: Levi dies AU. Full on angst; there's no happiness here.

Content warnings: death, blood, grief, alcohol consumption

ME WITHOUT YOU

Erwin stood in a small huddle of soldiers, overlooking maps. Based on the speed they’d been traveling for the last few hours and, given the relatively few Titan spottings since leaving the Walls, they were on track to make their target; a small grouping of tall trees as yet unexplored and uncharted, by mid-afternoon. It was good news. If they could map out the size of that forest, seen only from a distance on previous expeditions, it could potentially give them a huge advantage. A whisper in the back of Erwin’s mind told him that he was getting closer to the truth with this small step.

He was so engrossed in the conversation and planning that he only hardly registered that Levi hadn’t joined the group yet. He knew that there had been a Titan sighting in that area of the formation; it was entirely possible that his squad was still working on eliminating the threat.

Route decided and everyone in agreement, the huddle broke and Erwin ordered a halt until the remaining soldiers could be accounted for.

He walked to his horse and took a sip from his canteen. Something in his chest felt off. Levi should be back by now, shouldn’t he? Surely his squad wouldn’t take so long to dispatch a few Titans, even if abnormals had been among them. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud call and the thundering of horse hoofs.

“Commander!” came the shout, and he turned to see Gunther racing towards him. “It’s Captain Levi, Sir!”

Erwin was on his horse in seconds, ordering Hange to keep everyone in place until his return. He followed Gunther back the way he came.

“I’m sorry, Sir!” Gunther called as the wind whipped their faces. “The Captain’s wire got grabbed mid-flight by an abnormal. It slammed him into the ground. He’s got a really bad head wound and probably internal bleeding. He keeps asking for you, Sir.”

Erwin tried not to let the fear that was threatening to liquefy his heart show on his face. In his head, he begged his horse to gain just a little more speed.

“Are medics on site already?” he asked, hoping that the trembling in his voice could be attributed to the pace of their riding.

“Yes, Sir.” Gunther leveled a grave look in his direction, which Erwin did his best not to look directly into. “They don’t think he’ll make it.”

Erwin didn’t respond. He grit his teeth as he spotted a cluster of people and horses slide into view in front of him and he urged his horse onward. Just a little faster.

Coming up on the cluster of people, Erwin could see Levi’s squad standing together, in various stages of hugging each other and holding back tears. Miche loomed over the medics, who knelt on the ground around a crumpled body. He could already tell there was too much blood.

His horse had barely trotted to a stop before Erwin leapt off and jogged the rest of the way. Miche turned to him, a deep frown on his face. He placed a hand on Erwin’s shoulder, halting him for the barest of moments.

“We took down the abnormal. Levi was the only one it got.”

Erwin fixed him with a stare that he knew betrayed his fear. He couldn’t hide it anyway, not from his best friend.

“He doesn’t have long, Erwin. I’ll get people out of the way, leave you two to it.”

Erwin managed a whispered ‘thanks’ before breaking through the group of medics and kneeling by Levi’s broken form. He held out his arms and the medic holding the man passed him over, their entire lower body soaked red when they pulled away. Erwin distantly heard Miche order everyone to form a perimeter around the area and give some space.

Erwin could hardly breathe as he stared down at Levi. It was clear that he had suffered a skull fracture, and blood coated his face. Every quivering breath that Levi took caused a sickening crunch of shattered bones that Erwin felt under his fingertips. His mouth hung open, teeth crimson, wheezing bubbles gurgling past his lips. Blood freely flowed from his nose. Erwin felt nauseated, the sting of loss already seizing his heart as he bent down to whisper to the man dying in his arms.

“Levi?” He was afraid of saying it too loud, as though death would hear him and snatch him away more quickly.

“E-er-e-” came the reply as Levi struggled for air.

“Ssshh,” Erwin stroked a hand through sticky hair. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I-I’m sssso-sorry,” Levi gasped. His chest heaved and ragged coughs tore through him, spraying blood on Erwin’s chest.

“Don’t try to talk,” Erwin urged. His free hand moved from Levi’s hair to grab a limp hand laying in the grass. “Just stay with me a little longer, okay?”

Erwin squeezed the hand he had wrapped in his own, but he didn’t feel a response. Levi fixed him with a stare, drifting as the light fell from them. Erwin though he saw tears mix into the blood on the man’s face. Levi’s mouth moved without sound, and with a final cough, he was gone.

***

Levi’s funeral was meant to be small and private, but the news of the death of Humanity’s Strongest drew people from the smallest villages all the way to the capitol to observe the procession and service. Newspapers throughout the cities questioned how much hope Humanity had of regaining territory if even Captain Levi could not avoid death at the hands of Titans.

Some argued that Erwin should resign, saying that it was the recklessness of the Long Distance Scouting Formation that killed a man who could otherwise have been protected by others had the ranks been tighter. Dozens of soldiers transferred to the Garrison or left the military altogether. The Special Operations Squad was handed over to Miche, who initially offered them a leave of absence but ultimately, per their insistence, drilled them harder than they had in months on the training grounds. The whole squad seemed determined to sweat away their grief.

Erwin stayed in his office for days after the funeral. Officially, he was signing death notices, coordinating with squad leaders to deliver said notices, and reading and writing reports from the expedition. Unofficially, he was drinking a half bottle of scotch every night. He struggled to fall asleep at night and struggled to find the will to wake up in the morning.

Miche brought him food, but it wasn’t until his normally quiet friend scolded him for ignoring his last three meals that he ate anything. Even then, it was a struggle to keep it down. Miche asked him one morning, as he supervised Erwin eating breakfast and drinking a cup of coffee, if he wanted to talk about Levi’s death. The only reply he received was the slamming of the bathroom door and the sound of retching.

Erwin lost count of how many days he’d been in his office. Something in the back of his mind said it was two weeks, but the concept of time had been lost to him. He sat at the window, staring out over the training grounds. The Special Operations Squad was training again, and Ouro skidded to a stop in the grass and sank to his knees. It was quick to see he was crying. He was followed quickly by Petra and then Eld and Gunther, the four of them huddled together. Erwin couldn’t hear their wails, but the shaking of their bodies told him enough. He finished his third glass of scotch for the day.

A knock brought him hazily back into his office and he grunted to allow entry. Hange carefully opened the door and peered in. They quickly entered and shut the door behind them. Hange crossed the distance to where Erwin sat and looked at the emptied glass in his hand. They snatched the glass and the bottle of scotch and opened the window and tossed them out. Erwin could only watch with a distant apathy that he couldn’t connect between the front and back of his mind. A glass of water was shoved into his hand.

“Drink up, Erwin.” Hange resolutely leaned against the wall near the window. “Time to sober up and move forward.”

Erwin watched Hange’s face for a long time before turning to look back outside. Miche stood below the window, in front of the mess of glass and spilled liquor, looking up. Hange gave a thumbs up. Miche returned the gesture and returned to his squad.

Erwin sipped from the glass and stared blankly forward, through Hange and into some dark space he couldn’t identify.

“Levi’s dead,” he whispered. They were the first words he’d said in days.

“Yes. He is.” Hange’s tone turned soft.

“It’s my fault,” Erwin said. “He trusted me and I killed him.”

“Everyone in the Corps trusts you, Erwin.” Hange pressed a hand to his cheek and rubbed a thumb against the stubble. “And many of them die in the field. But you don’t drink this much scotch for all of them.”

“Levi was special.” Erwin was surprised by the challenging tone of his voice, like he expected Hange to argue with him on that fact. He became aware of a voice in his head supply, to me. He was special to me.

“He was,” Hange agreed. “He was incredible in so many ways. But he was also human, just like the rest of us.”

Erwin didn’t have a response for that. He drank the rest of the water and felt his stomach flip. He willed his body to hold it down. Hange went to the bathroom and poured another glass. Within two hours, filled mostly with silence, he had drank five glasses of water, pissed three times, and sobered up completely.

“Erwin, I actually came to ask you a favour,” Hange said after he emerged from the bathroom again.

“What is it?” Erwin didn’t like the apologetic look on their face.

“I was going to start cleaning out Levi’s office and, well. He left something for you on his desk. It’s a note.”

***

Sitting neatly in the centre of the desk was a small envelope. Written in thin lettering was, E.S. and Erwin picked it up, running a hand through his hair before opening it. He was expecting a long letter or a will, but instead was written simply,

Third drawer left. Underside.

-L

Erwin reread the note several times before looking around the room. Hange was busying themselves with the small bookshelf across the room, muttering quietly to no one in particular.

Glancing down at Levi’s desk, he furrowed brow with deeper confusion. Levi’s desk had two drawers on each side, not three. His bedroom didn't have a desk, and the small dresser had a single row of drawers.

The realization hit Erwin like a horse at full speed. He left the room, only vaguely aware of how abrupt his actions were by the confused noise Hange made. They did not follow him.

Just a minute later, Erwin was standing in front of his own desk, looking at the third drawer down on the left side. He glanced at the note again and something in his chest churned. He set the paper on his desk and pulled the drawer out and away from base, lifting it above his head, but he didn't find a note stuck to the underside. He set it down on top of the desk and stared at the contents; shoe polish and a rag and brush, a spare comb, a cluster of documents, a tin of sweets he kept for late nights. Nothing he hadn't seen hundreds of times, and nothing out of the ordinary. Slowly, he pushed at the bottom of the drawer, overhanging the edge of the desk. He did not expect it to lift, nor did he expect it to keep lifting as he continued to push upwards.

The bottom plank of the drawer peaked out over the top, followed almost immediately by a second plank. Curious, Erwin pressed the index finger of his free hand to hold the upper plank and slowly allowed the lower one to settle back down into position. In the space between the two planks sat a larger envelope, Erwin’s name written out in Levi’s unmistakable penmanship. Erwin slid the envelope out and let the upper plank drop unceremoniously back into place.

This envelope felt a good deal heavier than the one that contained the cryptic note. Erwin leaned back in his chair, breath caught in his throat, unsure he could handle whatever was contained within. Slowly, he spun the envelope around and pulled the flap away from the wax seal keeping it closed. He pulled out the sheets lying inside and unfolded them and read.

Erwin-

If you're reading this, that means I've died during an expedition. I've been leaving the note with the clue to finding this letter on my desk just before we've left for expeditions for years now. This letter has changed over time; I've written new ones as necessary, but the intention has always been the same.

I hope you didn't have to see me die. I hope I was already gone when you found out. I know all too well what it's like to watch the light fade from someone's eyes, to feel their heartbeat stop, to feel the warmth leave their body. I desperately hope you didn't have to endure that for me. If you did, I'm sorry. I hope it was quick.

I hope you don't mind that I modified your desk drawer to hide this note. I didn't want to risk someone else finding it when they were cleaning out my office. At least this way, I have more hope that you will be the only one to read this. (By the way, I did it when you were in a meeting at the capitol one day. Yes, I learned how to do it in the Underground. No, none of my own drawers have a false bottom.)

Do me a favour, and do not blame yourself for my death. Whatever the circumstances were, just know it wasn't your fault. I know you'll probably still blame yourself, but I want to say it anyway.

Just know that everything I did, I did for you, and your dream. I know that sounds hopelessly subservient and like I'm just trying to make you feel good, but it’s true. I don't know that I've ever been able to explain it, but ever since we met, I've felt this draw to you. Like I waited my whole life to find you so I could follow you and be the strength you needed to accomplish anything.

Erwin, I hope you know that I have no regrets about following you. Just the opposite in fact. You may not have realized it – or maybe you did, you're always so damned perceptive – but you gave me a freedom I could not have achieved on my own. You gave me the wings I used to fly – literally and figuratively. With you, I had something to live for beyond just surviving through the day so I could survive through the next. I could never have enough words to tell you how grateful I am for that. You looked beyond the street thug with bad manners and saw something more, something that you thought was worth giving a chance. My whole life, no one had ever been willing to do that. Maybe all you saw that day was my strength and maybe that's all you wanted, and that's okay. I hope it was more than that. I hope what I've been sensing from you means it was more than that.

There's something you should know, and I've been too scared to tell you. Even now, I'm hesitating to write it out.

I love you, Erwin.

I'm so sorry I never told you. I've loved you for so long, and I was too much of a damned coward to say it. I hate that this is the way you'll find out. I hate that I'll never know if you feel the same way.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Erwin, please keep living, for me. Get your answers, fulfill your dream. Learn what really lies beyond the walls. See the world, however large or small it may be. I'll be with you, standing by your side. Even if you can't see me, or feel my hand wrap around yours, I'll be there. I promise.

I love you in every lifetime, in this world, and the next, and all the others after that. I'll wait for you at the end of time.

-Levi

Erwin held the sheet of paper in his hands and stared at the words for a long time, tears streaming down his cheeks. He placed the papers on his desk and held his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body, heaving his chest and shaking him from head to toe.

“God, Levi,” he said to the room. “I love you too. I’m sorry I never told you. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He let himself cry until there was nothing left, being only distantly aware of Miche and Hange taking turns to poke their heads into the room to check on him. When only miserable groans fell from his lips and his head ached with grief, he allowed himself at last to pick up the papers and turn beyond Levi’s letter. Behind it sat a much shorter one.

Erwin-

I’m leaving everything I have to you. I know up on the Surface, people would call it “my estate,” but I don’t really have anything that would amount to an actual estate. So just, my stuff. I’m leaving you my stuff. All the shit in my office can go wherever; you can even leave it for whoever takes it next for all I care. What I actually want you to have is in a small chest under my bed. It’s not locked. There isn’t a lot in there. Just my other cravats (did you know I made them from one of my mother’s old dresses? It’s the only thing I have left of her. I promise they’re clean), the Survey Corps patches I took from Furlan’s uniform after he and Isabel died (I couldn’t find the rest of Izzy’s body to take hers), and that history book you gave me for my birthday that one year. I know I made fun of you for giving me a gift of something you like, but I did read it. I read it over and over and over. It was a part of you that you gave to me. And I have cherished it so much. I hope it’s okay for me to give it back to you now.

-Levi

Erwin walked into Levi’s bedroom and found the chest under the bed. He slowly pulled the contents from it, pausing to smell one of the cravats. It still had a hint of Levi’s scent underneath the smell of soap. When he pulled the book out, he found that the cover was held up slightly by something. Pulling it open, he felt another sob catch in his throat. A thin golden ring sat pressed into the first few pages, with a twist of paper wrapped around it.

Erwin pulled the ring out and unraveled the paper. It read simply:

Even after death do us part.

I do.

Erwin slid the ring onto his finger and whispered through his sobs, “I do.”

In the darkness of the room, he had the distant sense of a kiss pressed to his lips.

[adoringhaikyuu]

when their teammate has a crush on you

characters: kageyama, kenma, oikawa, tanaka

warnings: nothing, just some pouty boys and possessiveness

notes: i stumbled upon @kageyuji​‘s take on this while i was writing! so i thought i might as well give them a shoutout! 

kageyama:

you already know this boy speaks up with no shame

and he will glare at anyone who gets in his way or on his nerves, especially when they do anything to you

so when hinata doesn’t even try to hide that he likes you, saying boldly “well why should i lie?” 

you could only imagine the rage that kageyama is feeling

he doesn’t even want you in the same room as hinata sjkdfghsdj

he will pick either you or hinata up and take you away, depending on the situation

or he’ll take hinata’s face in his hand and just throw him away

but the boy always bounces right back, somehow unharmed and you’re grateful for that 

but anyway it’s not that hinata is necessarily trying to break the two of you up, it’s more that he’s genuinely confused as to why you’re with kageyama

“how could you possibly like this bully? is there something wrong with you?” 

he got chased by kageyama immediately after saying that––

your eyes widened as you saw a flash of orange jump in front of you as you walked towards the gym, ready to meet kageyama to go home. “y/n! y/n! could you please throw some balls for us?! yachi had to go home but we really wanna practice some more!” 

you stepped back and your boyfriend came out of nowhere, practically smacking the other boy out of the air, leaving him to crouch on the ground, clutching the top of his head as he scowled at the dark-haired boy. “calm down you idiot! y/n doesn’t have to if they don’t want to! they’re probably tired anyway and just wanna go home.” he turned to you and gave you a small smile. “you wanna go?” 

you looked between the two. “i mean...i can help you guys practice for a little bit.”

the other boy sprung up again. “oh! thank you! thank you!” 

your boyfriend bowed his head quickly. “thank you.”

you smiled up at him and he felt his cheeks redden. “of course, tobio.” a smile spread on his face as well but it was short-lived as hinata spoke up, suddenly inches away from the two of you. 

“what’s up with your face? why do you look like that?” 

kageyama scowled down at him. “nothing’s wrong with my face! what’s wrong with your face?!” 

“why are you yelling at me?!” hinata turned to you, “he’s so mean! how are you with him?” he looked down and mumbled to himself, “i wouldn’t treat you like this...”

kageyama’s eyes widened with rage. “what was that?!” 

“n––nothing!” the smaller boy backed up, eyes wide with fear. 

“you know what? we’re leaving.” kageyama stormed into the gym and quickly got his things, ignoring hinata’s pleas.

“aw what? why?! come on kageyama!” he turned to you, “y/n please––”

suddenly you were facing your boyfriend’s back as he stood in front of you to glare at the other boy. “don’t even think about it. we’re done for today.” he turned to you and grabbed your hand, tightening his hold when you waved goodbye to a pouting hinata. 

when you were almost off the premises you looked up at kageyama. “you know you’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you smirked up at him and he stuttered in shock.

“what–i–you––”

you laughed and kissed the back of his hand softly, immediately giving him a nosebleed. you handed him a tissue which he gratefully took, glaring at you weakly. 

“you know i’m yours, right?” 

he swallowed and blinked a couple times before nodding once. 

“then you have nothing to worry about, okay?”

he started muttering to himself, the only words you could make out being “idiot” and “dumbass”. you placed your hands on his cheeks and he stopped and looked down at you, eyes wide. 

“okay, tobio?”

he nodded. “okay.” he paused. “but that doesn’t mean i’m going to be nicer to that idiot––”

you laughed. “yeah baby, i know.” 

kenma:

let’s say you’d been dating kenma for a while now, a little lowkey 

and everything is fine, everything is going really well

kenma likes it when you hang around the team, the team likes you

you’re like a part of the squad

and kenma’s feeling great about it 

until lev comes along––

kenma already doesn’t like this boy, he doesn’t even know how to hit a ball properly––

but when kenma notices the way the tall boy blatantly stares at you during practice, the way he always tries to butt into your conversations and show off to you...

kenma’s practically radiating angry chihuahua energy, the air around him red and he looks like he’s two seconds away from biting––

if lev interrupts your convo w him sometimes he’d just stare at the boy deadpanned and go back to his conversation with you, “anyway–”

or he’d take your hand and lead you away

or he’d literally just say “go away, lev.” and the poor boy would just pout and whine, “aww what? why?” 

one time lev tried to tag along on one of your dates and you had to step in front of kenma so he wouldn’t kick the boy in the shins or something

lev really wasn’t trying to do any harm, he was just a big lanky puppy who had a little crush on you

but still, kenma wasn’t having any of that

kuroo leaned on the wall next to where kenma was leaning against it, sipping his water during their ten minute break. he smirked down at his friend teasingly, “so what are you gonna do about your new competition?”

kenma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, putting the bottle on the floor as he practically snarled. “shut up.”

“woah,” kuroo smiled, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “put your claws away, man. i’m just asking.” 

kenma simply grumbled in response, making his friend laugh.

“well you should think fast cause it looks like he’s getting real close to y/n right now––”

kenma’s head snapped up immediately and his jaw clenched when he took in the sight across the gym. lev was lying on the bench, practically half his body folded, his legs bent on the ground, his head on your lap, his eyes closed. 

kenma huffed and stomped over to you two, some of his other teammates jumping out of his way when they felt the almost deadly aura around him. he stopped right in front of you and you looked up at him.

he blinked. “why is lev on you?”

you shrugged, “he said his head was hurting and then just plopped his head in my lap.”

said boy finally opened his eyes and perked up, “oh hi kenma! my head’s been hurting from all this hard practice so i thought i’d rest a bit.”

your boyfriend’s eye twitched. “on y/n?” 

“yeah!” the boy smiled, somehow completely oblivious to the setter’s rage. “they’re real soft, you know––”

“yes.” kenma interrupted, blunt as ever. “i know.” 

noticing the increasing tension, you spoke up. “hey lev?” he looked at you happily. “your head’s feeling better now, right?” 

“well i guess so...”

“maybe you should go get some water and some fresh air then, yeah?”

he pouted, “but maybe i should stay for just a little longer–” kenma was about to pop a blood vessel. 

“trust me,” you guided him up gently. “this is what’s best for your health.”

as soon as he agreed and walked away from you, you looked up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face and pat your thighs. he eagerly took lev’s place and looked up at you with a furrow in his brows that you were quick to smooth out with your thumb, smiling when he visibly melted at your touch. you ran your fingers through his scalp to calm him down and he purred, leaning into your hands. 

“stupid lev...” he mumbled to himself and you laughed, leaning down to kiss his forehead, making him blush immediately.

“you have nothing to worry about, okay? i’m yours.”

he blinked, trying to calm his heartbeat, a small smile on his face. “good.” 

oikawa:

alright let’s switch things up a lil bit and mention someone i’ve personally like never seen mentioned in this scenario

let’s say mad dog likes you

oh boy

so at first oikawa thinks he’s seeing things

but once he notices how kyoutani opens the door for you, the way his eyes linger on you a little more when you come to practices or to the games, the way he gives you a small smile every now and then––

kyoutani doesn’t smile for anybody!!––

oikawa’s eyes narrow and he gets a bad feeling in his gut 

otherwise known as jealousy

now he knows you’d never leave him or anything like that, but the fact that you start getting closer to the walking time bomb and you become the only other person that he listens to besides iwaizumi––

oikawa doesn’t like that at all

he’d get all pouty and would literally drag you away from your conversations with the younger boy, almost whimpering when he glares and practically growls at him

“where is y/n-chan??” oikawa asked to no one in particular, his hands on his hips. 

kindaichi stopped and picked up one of the stray balls on the floor, “oh i saw y/n outside with kyoutani.”

“what?!” oikawa pracitcally shrieked, making the younger boy jump. he mumbled to himself, “i swear we need to get mad dog a collar with bells on it––” he stomped over to where the two of you were, a strained smile on his face as he noticed you laughing, kyoutani’s cheeks slightly pink.

“well what do we have here?” he said forceful but cheerful. 

you looked to your boyfriend with a smile and kyoutani simply glared at him, but then again, that was just his face. “oh we were just getting some fresh air. are you done practicing your serves?”

“i sure am.” he smiled, pulling you close to him by your waist and pressing an obnoxiously loud and wet kiss to your cheek which you immediately wiped off with a grimace, which he did not appreciate. “y/n-chan!” he whined, “that’s not very nice!” 

“well don’t make it so wet next time,” you rolled your eyes. 

noticing the other boy still hadn’t made a move to leave, your boyfriend spoke up. “shouldn’t you be leaving now, mad dog?”

you smacked his chest and he yelped. “don’t be so rude, tooru. he was keeping me company while you did your extra practice, you know.”  

he pouted and looked to the ground.

“i should be getting home, anyway.” the blond spoke up gruffly. his eyes softened almost imperceptibly as he looked at you. “see you, y/n.”

you smiled, “bye kyou.” 

“bye mad-dog!” your boyfriend practically sang, as he looked over his shoulder at the boy leaving. he turned back to you and you pursed your lips at his behavior, making his shoulders droop in shame. 

“you’re such a big baby, you know that?” although you insulted him, your voice was soft and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you cooed at him, your hands holding his cheeks. “but you’re my baby, okay? stop worrying so much about kyoutani.” 

he nodded. “okay...” his eyes widened hopefully, “can i get a kiss please?”

you smiled and shook your head, before leaning in. he really was a baby sometimes.  

tanaka:

you already know this boy is loud

and he likes to show off what’s his because he’s just so proud that you’re his and he loves to fawn over you

so he’ll always have a hand on you, an arm around you and he’ll always shower you in compliments whenever he sees you

a total simp

and that’s just in general

so when his friend likes you ??? bruh

let’s just say nishinoya thinks you’re kinda cute,,, okay really cute and his crush only (unwillingly) grew for you after you started dating tanaka and hanging out with them all the time

he’d be really excited whenever you were around, a pink tint covering his cheeks, a smile glued to his face

he’d try to show off during practice and games, looking to you after he lands a successful rolling thunder

and tanaka would be growling in the corner sdfghj

he’d literally try to one up his friend immediately and would scream to you in the stands “I LOVE YOU BABY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!!”

after they win he’d pull you into a crushing hug and give you loud kisses all over your face 

he’d do the most and then he’d smile all smug making sure everyone including nishinoya saw 

you laughed as noya jumped several feet in the air to high five you after winning their game, a bright smile on his face. “did you see that last receive i did y/n? did you?” 

you nodded, laughing. “yes i did noya, it was really impressive.” 

his cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, scratching the back of his head nervously as he waved you off. “ah it wasn’t all that...it was pretty good though, huh?” 

before you could respond, you saw a flash of movement in front of you before you were suddenly being hoisted into the air. you gasped and wrapped your arms and legs around your boyfriend, “ryu!––” 

“hey baby!” he practically yelled, smiling up at you and not so subtly walking away from his best friend with you in his arms. “did you see me hit that last spike? your man looked pretty good out there, huh? better than everyone else right?” 

daichi who was walking by the two of you quickly hit the back of tanaka’s head in warning, hearing his words. “watch it––”

tanaka turned his head, “uh i mean you looked great too captain! couldn’t have done this without you––”

“yeah yeah,” he walked away, rolling his eyes and you laughed yet again, grabbing your boyfriend’s attention. 

he looked up at you with wide eyes, squeezing his arms around you tighter and you smiled, putting your hand on his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch softly and you pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush immediately. “of course i was watching you, and yes you looked very very good out there. i’m so proud of you.” 

he smiled wide but tried to act oblivious when you went on, “you know you kinda interrupted my conversation earlier with––”

“well anyway! i think we should get going now--” he spoke far too loud, walking faster from the gym, making you shake your head at his adorably possessive behavior. 

you leaned your head on his shoulder fondly, “you know you can be ridiculous sometimes ryu...”

he huffed quietly, “well you still love me right?”

you smiled. “always.” 

[romanarose]

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Part 9

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8 : Chapter 10

A lil time jump, we meet two friends of Sam's briefly. They aren't gonna be a huge part of the story, but I feel a lot of these fanfictions have OC's or readers that aren't really fleshed out, that don't have lives. I want Sam to have a job, classes, friends, family... not just trauma.

WARNINGS: reference to rape, creepy guy, slight threats here and there. I don't want to give too much away so just read with discression.

 A month had gone by without incident. Marc and Steven had been getting along better, they bickered like brothers but they loved each other as such. Marc and Sam had been spending time together, Marc had been showing Sam The Walking Dead. Sam thought she wouldn’t like it at all, but said she’d watch it since Marc was so excited. She ended up really liking it, at least through season 3, where they were now. Sam had been staying over at Steven’s at least once a weekend, and Steven stayed with Sam once or twice during the week, going to bed when she did to allow her proper sleep and buying her a coffee in the morning.

 She was more in love than she thought possible, in love with both her Sunshine and her Starlight. She hadn’t told Marc how she felt yet, but she knew she had to eventually. Steven knew, but how long could he keep a secret from his own head? She considered how she might broach the topic with him. Maybe she could make him dinner? It’s not like they hadn’t been getting  touchy and a little flirty. Plus, Marc was usually there when Steven and her had sex. Sometimes, he would give them alone time, but he had seen her in every intimate position possible. Sam practically skipped down her stairs, wondering if Marc would be different. Would Marc be rough where Steven was tender? Would he call her Brightside? Would he spank her? Manhandle her?

Her day dreaming was interrupted when he exited the door and stopped at the flower cart outside her door, thinking Steven would like flowers.

“Sammie?” a hand on her back. She whipped around. It was him.

“Jordan?” A wave of fear flooded through her. She wanted Marc. She wanted Marc to be here and beat his ass, maybe kill him. Steven, Marc, Chris, her friends, someone… She needed help. She considered attempting to dial Steven, hoping he would hear the convo and come, but she froze, her brain was fuzzy.

“Hey Sammie, what are you doing here?” He looked at her apartment building “You live here?”

Thinking quickly, she replied “No, no it’s my friend Emily’s, I was visiting. I live on the east side” Why was he talking to her?

“Can I buy you a coffee?” He smiled at her charmingly, like he hadn’t raped her.

“Oh, uh, I gotta work, sorry” A lie, it was a sunday. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around then.” the way he asked… it wasn’t a question “I just moved to London… Yeah I think I’ll see you around” Yeah, it wasn’t a question.

“Okay, yeah, I gotta get going” 

“Right, I’ll see you, Sammie” He grazed her back as he passed by her, and she heaved, attempting to hold back a shiver. When he passed around the corner, she ran upstairs, into her apartment and locked the door before going to her bathroom to puke. She felt her breakfast leave her body. Steven. She needed Steven. Yanking her phone out of her purse, she pulled up his number and saw the smiling face of the man she loved on the screen “Pick up pick up pick up”

“Oh? Hello love? Steven sounded confused. “Are you okay?” a little panic in his voice. 

Instinct to protect him took over “Steven? Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I just woke up when you called me… In Bath?”

“What? Like… did you black out?”

“I guess so… Something is trying to pull me back into it.. Are you okay? You sound off, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah I just… I saw him, Steven… Jordan. He showed up as I was leaving my building…”

“What? Oh my god, I’m gonna try and get back to London, okay, are you safe? Where are you? Where is he?”

“No, Steven please be careful! Just… do what you have to do and come back to me safely… Okay?”

“I don’t know how much of a choice I have to be honest, I honestly can’t believe I came to when you called.”

“You only came to when I called?”

“Yeah, bit odd, innit?”

“Yeah… We are something… Can I… Steven, I think he knows where I live… Can I…”

“Stay at my place? Oh my god, absolutely, stay as long as you need, you have a key, stay as long as you need, I don’t know when I’ll be back… just get away from the apartment and make sure no one is following you, you can use my clothes and whatever you need.”

“Please don’t worry… I’ll pack a bag, I’m in my apartment right now.”

Steven grunted “Please be careful, call the police if you have to. I know you don’t like them but do it if you have to, okay?” a small gasp from him “I’m so sorry love, It’s pulling at me, I don’t think I can-” he was gone. Sam hurriedly packed bag of clothes for a days at day care, charger, tooth brush, hair stuff, tampons. 

She took a long way to Steven’s place, staying near people, and double checked her surroundings before entering Steven’s building. She was alone for 3 days. Sam took this opportunity to catch up with homework and see her friends/coworkers, Jess and Elena. She had been a little MIA the last month, but they understood. They were used to not seeing her outside of work for long periods of time. 

“Steven treating you right?” Elena asked, always one to check in.

“Yes” Sam looked at her friends raising her eyebrows “He’s treating me sooooo right” she winked

“Only took you guys long enough to start fucking”

“Jesus christ Elena” Jess laughed “but she has a point. Who the fuck says I love you before they have sex, must be a catholic thing.”

They liked Steven, this was important. Jess and Elena had given her places to stay on a few month rotations while Sam was getting on her feet after her parents cut her off. Her parents had, of course, said she could move back home, but Sam refused to go back to her dad's mercy. Jess got her a job at the daycare and Elena joined later. Their approval meant almost as much as Chris’s. Jess was a little suspicious. She said he was too nice “It’s always the quiet ones” she said “Like Jeffery Dahmer”

Elena walked Sam home after drinks and waited for Sam to call her from the apartment that she was safe. She had been doing this after work every day since Sam saw Jordan. She even offered to let Sam stay with her, but she didn’t want Elena or Jess mixed up with Jordan’s shit. She couldn’t bear it if they got hurt. She went to bed early, after finishing up an online BIO lab.

Until the lights turned on in the room. Sam had the blanket over her. The heat was low and she didn’t want to mess with Steven’s thermostat since she wasn’t paying the bill, so she stayed under the blanket during the night. The light being turned on rang some alarm bells in her head, even though she was relieved Steven was home. Not that Steven didn’t have the right to turn on the lights, but it was unlike him, and unlike Marc to do anything that might wake Sam when she slept. She briefly got scared that it wasn’t Marc or Steven, and threw off the blanket to see. To her relief, it was Marc, she could tell by how he was standing, pouring himself a drink of liquor. Steven only drank wine or the occasional mixed drink. “Marc?” she called out, and he froze, back turned to her. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed “Are you okay?” He seemed off. She stood up “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” He began pouring his drink again, taking a long sip.

“Did Steven not tell you? I was staying here for a few days… I called him, he said he blacked out and was in Bath…” She didn’t want to tell him about Jordan, as he seemed stressed enough as it is “I’m sorry if I startled you”

“Right, the call…” he muttered. His voice was off.

Sam walked up to him. She was scared, but this was Marc, her Marc. If something was wrong, she needed to know “Marc? What’s wrong”

He finally turned to her with a sarcastic smile.

“You’re not Marc, are you…”

“No.”

“Oh.” The third alter… the one who appeared only long enough to kill whoever was in his way. She stumbled a few steps back

He must’ve noticed her change “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you”

She needed information, something she could bring back to Steven and Marc to help fill the gap in their head “What’s your name?”

He ignored her question “Why are you here?”

Why did she feel like she was the intruder? “I needed somewhere to go for a few days. Steven said it was okay. You can talk to him-”

“You called him? And you talked to him?”

“Yeah.. he woke up in Bath… then he was gone again…”

“That’s odd…” he didn’t seem to be talking to her “I’m not supposed to be the one blacking out…” he seemed like he was trying to figure something out. “His subconscious must’ve registered that you were calling and that was enough to pull him to the front by force.”

Sam noticed a slight Latin accent that she couldn’t quite pinpoint “what are you talking about?”

He suddenly seemed more interested in her “Have you ever noticed that? If he’s not expecting a call from you and he gets one, he always answers in a panic, he asks if everything is okay or if somethings wrong, like he’s constantly waiting for something bad to happen.”

“I mean… sometimes he answers like that but-”

“I didn’t think you’d notice at all”

Sam was offended “What is that supposed to mean?”

He leaned over the counter, drink still in hand “of course, something was wrong this time” he studied her “That’s why you’re here. Tell me”

She didn’t want to tell him, but something about having the face of the man she loved, mixed with a little fear, she spoke “I saw…Jordan, or I guess I saw a man outside my building who had hurt me before. I was scared he knew where I lived…”

“Right” he seemed to recognize the name “The Cabron who assaulted you”

Sam felt like he suddenly knew too much “What?! You were there for that conversation?”

He smiled wryly “I’m there for most things, Carina.”

Fuck. “UGH!” She grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders

He laughed like he had gotten her with a prank “Relax, I have enough courtesy to know when I’m not wanted, I leave for that.”

Sam remained wrapped up “Then you should know I wouldn’t want you around for those talks.” she glared at him

“I know, but that concerns them, so it concerns me.”

“Them? Marc and Steven?” Who the hell was this guy?

“Yes. And you concern them, so you concern me”

“What I do is none of your business? You think you were protecting them by keeping them in the dark about you?”

He took a few steps around the corner of the counter, making Sam step back “Do you realize how much stress you bring them? They are constantly worried about you. They have enough going on between the two of them, they don’t need you adding more.”

“What?”

“Steven and Marc are much more fragile than they pretend to be. Marc likes to think his job is to protect Steven, but Steven was literally created to protect Marc. Marc has seen enough for several lifetimes. They both have enough going on without you.”

“So what? You want me to leave?” she crossed her arms in the blanket “That’s not happening. We’re in love”

“Yeah” He laughed “I know, you love both of them, they both love you. And you are too selfish to leave them alone. They will drain themselves dry trying to fix you, and when you leave, it’ll shatter them.”

She only took a moment to register that he said they both love her. Steven and Marc. She’ll have to revisit that mentally. “Are you kicking me out? Cuz I’ll fucking go.”

He finished his drink, still smiling. It wasn’t comforting “No, I’m not making you walk alone in the dark while a predator is after you. I would’ve killed him myself last month, but I thought it would get Marc in trouble.”

Now she was confused “Why do you care what he did to me? You don’t even like me”

He laughed “Whether I like you or not is irrelevant. Men like that deserve slow deaths. And it’s not that I don’t like you. I find you quite funny, actually.  It’s not personal.”

She threw her hands up “Jesus Christ, you are confusing as hell.”

“You can’t tell them about this”

Now it was Sam's turn to laugh “Or what? You’ll hurt me?”

“No, it's just best if they don’t know.”

“You act like you’re protecting them, you act like I’m hurting them, but you literally leave them with several day black outs, chunks of time missing, worrying what they’ve done  or what will happen next. How can you say I am the one who stresses them out?”

Sam walked past him and bumped his shoulder deliberately as she passed. She grabbed the wine Steven always kept for her and poured a glass.

The man didn’t let that go either “Well there's that, for one.”

“What?” A big swig.

“Your drinking.”

She rolled her eyes, she just wanted Steven back “What?”

“You drink excessively. Then there's the fact you aren’t taking your meds, which worries Marc. Then there's the burning.”

“I stopped that,” she said defensively.

“Are you so sure about that?”

Sam was mad now “I don’t need a lecture from you. I don’t know you. Can I please have Steven back?”

He ignored the request “You don’t know me, but I know you.”

She groaned “Can’t you see how creepy that is?” She finished her drink “You have one week to introduce yourself to them, or however it fucking works, or I’ll tell them.”

“Carefull, Carina, you don’t want to make an enemy out of me.” he was still smiling that smile, like he was 10 steps ahead of her at all times.

She scoffed “Is that a threat? You gonna fucking kill me? I’m not keeping a secret from Steven.”

“Except your secrets, right?” he seemed agitated

She leaned onto the counter, facing him “Yeah. Because their mine.” she grabbed a bottle from the medicine cabinet “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna take some meletonin and I’m probably going to have the craziest fucking dreams of my life after whatever the fuck this interaction was. I’m going to sleep on the couch and you are going to stay the fuck away from me, I’m going to work in the morning and you have until I get back to explain yourself to them.”

He narrowed his eyes “You said I had a week.”

Crossing her arms, Sam replied indignantly “Yeah but now you’re pissing me off. I don’t appreciate you insinuating I don’t really care about them or that I’m using them.”

“You aren’t sleeping on the couch.”

“Well I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No-” before she could argue, he had walked to the couch and was laying down.

“Go to bed.”

She was going to fucking kill him. “Good night” She may be mad, but her manners had a life of their own.

He didn’t respond. There was silence. “My name is Jake Lockley”

“Samantha Waters” 

[pies-writes-and-more]

allergic to you

Word Count: 3, 713

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x High School Age!Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swear words I guess, but as per usual, it’s just fluff from me. 

A/N: Guess who’s finally joined another fandom lol hello Haikyuu fandom! Pls be kind, it’s my first time writing for this fandom but I am in love with Karasuno boys, it’s problematic. Anyways, please let me know if you liked it! Sorry if I didn’t quite capture him the way other writers do haha. Also, Y/N = Your (Last) Name, just cause typing Y/L/N is exhausting lol my b

(Not my gif, credits to the original creator!)

Yamaguchi was trying his very hardest not to laugh, his hands clasped together in front of his lips to stifle his giggles as the tall blond boy he had known for years just looked at him desperately.

“It’s not funny,” Tsukishima’s lips formed into a frown (almost a pout), looking away from his friend nervously. His fingers played with some chopsticks, poking at his uneaten lunch.

Yamaguchi had never see Tsukishima Kei nervous. Volleyball games? Totally calm. Math class? Easy. Exam season? Piece of cake.

But put Tsukishima near a girl? No, scratch that. Not just any girl. Put Tsukishima near Y/N? It was all over for him. Suddenly, this 190cm tall boy wanted to shrink small enough to run away and not be noticed.

“It’s a little funny, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi insisted, finally letting out just a tiny chuckle that he just couldn’t hold back. “I think you’re overreacting. Just a bit.”

Tsukishima’s eyes turned back to the other boy, staring at him as if analyzing him, “How could I be overreacting? I’m telling you, I’m allergic!”

Yamaguchi was really trying his best to be supportive, knowing that talking about things was already hard for Tsukishima, especially when involving a particularly cute girl. “You think... you’re allergic... to Y/N,” Yamaguchi retorted slowly, repeating how Tsukishima started this convo with.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tsukishima scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously it’s some product she uses or something,” his nose scrunched up slightly as he tried to think of what it could possibly be. “Like that hand lotion she uses. The one that smells like vanilla and brown sugar,” Tsukishima proclaimed, nodding to himself like he had solved the mystery.

The green haired boy was still trying his best to be supportive. He nodded slowly, giving a forced smile to his best friend as he slowly spiralled into insanity. He had never seen Tsukishima this desperate for answers before. “Hasn’t she let you use some of that hand lotion?” He wondered aloud, remembering very specifically how red Tsukishima’s ears got when she rubbed a bit into a rash he had gotten on his hand.

“Gotta take good care of your hands if you play volleyball, Tsukishima-san!” Y/N had beamed, her fingers massaging the cream in.

Tsukishima had practically fainted that day, though he’d never admit it.

The blond’s frown tightened, holding his hand to his chin in thought, “Right. So not the hand lotion then.”

“Maybe she got a new perfume?” Yamaguchi offered, nibbling on some of his lunch while Tsukishima thought it out.

“No, she’s still using the same one,” He mumbled, and Yamaguchi smirked to himself, knowing that Tsukishima would’ve never admitted before that he knew little details like this about her. 

“Well. what kinds of symptoms do you have? Maybe that’ll narrow it down,” Yamaguchi suggested, leaning his head back on the wall behind them. It wasn’t unusual for Tsukishima to want to eat some place quiet, but today had been the first day that he had practically dragged Yamaguchi to this small secluded spot behind the school. The two of them sat against a wall to eat, though Tsukishima’s lunch had been completely forgotten.

“I just-” Tsukishima hesitated, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he tried to word how his body felt every time she was around. “I always feel so lightheaded. And my heartbeat’s always irregular too. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe properly.” His hand slid into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone and tilting the screen towards Yamaguchi to show him a medical diagnostic page on the web. “Some people say these are symptoms of allergies. Or an anxiety attack. But I’m leaning more towards allergies.”

Yamaguchi squinted at the text, “You... Googled it?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips, glancing up at Tsukishima, amused.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Tsukishima scoffed, scrolling through the page. “I don’t know what else it could be. It’s not with anyone else. It can’t be the classroom either, cause when she’s not around, I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm. So what’re you going to do about it?” Yamaguchi asked, going along with this ‘allergic’ idea as much as he could. He knew Tsukishima was very rational and even if he suggested what he figured was happening, Tsukishima would never listen.

“D-Do?” Tsukishima blinked. He hadn’t thought about what the next step was.

“Well I assume you don’t want to keep feeling that like right? You could always ask the teacher to move you, I suppose. Then ask her not to attend any of our games. Avoiding her for the rest of your life seems like the best choice doesn’t it?” Yamaguchi asked innocently, closing up his lunch box and taking a sip from his juice.

Tsukishima stayed quiet, eyebrows still furrowed and the frown on his face tightening. He knew that made sense - one of the girls in their class was allergic to nuts and she always had to be careful what she ate, and he had even heard of some people not eating or drinking milk products because of allergies. The logical part of his brain agreed with Yamaguchi, perhaps staying away from Y/N was the only answer.

“Then... maybe it’s not an allergy,” Tsukishima mumbled quietly. He hated going back on his word but he couldn’t deny that he loathed the idea of not seeing Y/N’s smile ever again. Or seeing her sit with someone else. “Maybe it’s just something I have to get used to.”

“You know, Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi started again, looking off to the scenery that was in front of them. His voice was light and airy as he tried to coax his friend to the idea, “What you’re going through sounds a lot like-”

Tsukishima could hear it in his voice, he knew the next word forming from Yamaguchi’s lips before it even entered the air. He slammed his lunch box closed and stood up abruptly, turning away from the other boy’s eyes. “Lunch is over,” he grumbled, as if that was the reason he stood up so dramatically.

Yamaguchi smirked and packed up his things, shaking his head slowly when Tsukishima wasn’t looking. He wasn’t at all surprised that Tsukishima was having a hard time accepting his feelings.

The word hung in the very serious boy’s mind for the rest of the day. He tried not to focus so much on Y/N as he sat next to her for the rest of their classes, tried to not inhale too much or look in her general direction, in fear that his “allergy” would act up again.

He was almost positive it wasn’t... that. He would know for sure if it was, wouldn’t he? His nose scrunched slightly as he thought about the music he had listened to before, ones that had just a good melody and beat and he definitely didn’t listen to because of the lyrics since they were about... that thing.

Didn’t some people talk about their heart feeling like it was going to fall out of their chest? That they found it hard to breathe? That it was like all life stopped when they saw that person? And that despite all this, they never wanted to be without them?

Tsukishima had to get to the bottom of this. He was either experiencing some sort of allergic reaction to her or he was experiencing feelings. He thought about ignoring them, pretending like they didn’t exist so that maybe everything would go back to normal one day. But how long would that take? Wouldn’t it just be easier to rip off the bandaid and find out now?

At the end of class, Tsukishima zoomed his way out of class, not waiting for Yamaguchi like usual.

“Is he alright, Yamaguchi-san?” Y/N asked, surprised that the two best friends weren’t walking out together like they had every other day. Some days, they would even walk out with Y/N on their way to practice. But apparently, not today.

“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Yamaguchi explained, waving it away with a smile. Perhaps today he would be walking home by himself. And that was fine by him.

Y/N packed up her things and waved goodbye to her other classmates, heading out the door and slipping in her headphones. Her mind drifted to all the things she had to do when she got home, whether or not there were leftovers to heat up today or if she should cook something up.

“You take so long,” a drawl voice interrupted the very beginning of her first song. She blinked in surprise, looking to her right where Tsukishima was leaning against a tree.

Y/N pulled out one earbud, tilting her head as she watched him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him do this casual, I-don’t-care-about-anything lean, with his headphones around his neck and his hands shoved in his pockets. But there was something different about him this time. Why was he avoiding her eyes? Why was he not giving her an annoyingly carefree smile? Why were his ears turning pink?

“Were you... waiting for me, Tsukishima-san?” Y/N asked slowly. He didn’t move for a moment, as if still calculating something in that big brain of his. He pushed off of the tree after sighing, walking over to her slowly.

“Obviously,” was all he said, glaring down at her as if she should’ve known this.

“You rushed out of class so quick, I thought you were already going home,” Y/N responded, still a bit confused. “Don’t you and Yamaguchi normally walk home together?”

Why did she have to question so much? Why couldn’t she just realize what he was trying to do? Tsukishima huffed and grabbed her hand, dropping a nice cool juice box in it. His eyes darted away from her next inquisitive look, but glanced back almost immediately because he wanted to see her eyes widen just a little at her favourite juice box.

“W-What is this?” Y/N asked, holding it in her hands. Part of her wanted to examine it to make sure he hadn’t somehow tricked her into holding something that wasn’t actually juice. She looked up at him suspiciously - Tsukishima knew her favourite juice?

“You didn’t have one with you today. I figured you forgot your wallet again today,” Tsukishima mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket again.

“O-Oh. I did, thank you. Um,” Y/N hesitated. Was Tsukishima trying... to be nice? “Why... why did you buy it for me?”

“I just said why,” Tsukishima scoffed, flicking her head gently. He scolded himself internally, feeling guilty as soon as she showed the surprise on her face. She’s asking why you thought to be nice, Kei, stop being snarky, he told himself harshly. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly, feeling almost immediately bad for flicking her.

Y/N just laughed though, giggles spilling from her lips as she looked up at him, “Are you feeling okay, Tsukishima-san? You’re turning red,” she teased gently and he looked away from her quickly, hating how quickly his face heated up.

He took a breath, trying to mimic how calm he was on the court. He turned back to look at her with a cocky smile and confidence gaze, though he was sure she could tell he was nervous, “I’m fine, Y/N-san. But I need to tell you something. And I’m only going to say it once so listen up.”

Y/N watched him intently, noting the fake confidence he was trying to put on. She nodded as he looked at her for any sign to keep going.

His lips opened for a moment and Y/N could’ve sworn there was a moment of panic in his eyes when nothing came out. “I’m going to walk you home today,” Tsukishima stated finally, each word thudding into the air. He felt his confidence falter as the wrong words left his mouth, shifting his bag on his shoulder and starting to walk ahead.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling her confusion only rise. Did he really build up that whole thing... just to walk her home?

“Hurry up or I’ll leave you here,” Tsukishima called behind his shoulder, still walking ahead. He was internally punching himself, groaning and uttering insults at his own stupid self. Couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t just say Y/N I like you and I think I’m either allergic to you or I’m utterly in love with you but I’ve been told I suck at explaining how I feel and that I never say the right things at the right time so please just reject me so I can move away from these exhausting feelings.

“Want some?” Y/N’s gentle voice was suddenly beside him, and Tsukishima felt his stomach doing that flipping motion again. He glanced down at her and saw her holding up the juice box at him. “Seems only fair, since you bought it,” she explained, the glimmer in her eyes making him feel way too warm inside.

“Sure,” he mumbled after a moment. She smiled just a little bit wider, holding up the juice to him, expecting him to just snatch it away and drink. But no, Tsukishima being a little bitch and deciding that if he couldn’t admit anything with words, he could try with actions, leaned down slightly, and latched his lips onto the straw. His hand wrapped around hers over the juice box, holding it still as he took a sip.

Y/N felt like she was suddenly bright red, her heart possibly having exploded right then and there. His eyes looked up to meet hers as he sipped, smirking a bit as he noticed the panicked and flushed look in her eyes.

Maybe the feeling is... mutual?

“Mm,” he hummed, pulling away after keeping her gaze for a second. “I guess I can see why you like it.”

Y/N had shivers running up and down her spine, feeling like Tsukishima had looked into her very soul and knew about her year-long crush on him.

The two of them started walking a bit slower after that, and to the external eye, you’d probably just see two classmates walking home together. But look a little closer, and you’d see both of them having internal conflicts. They managed to walk through the small roads filled with shops and make it about halfway to Y/N’s house in complete silence. 

“Y/N-san,” Tsukishima finally ended it, the agonizing silence, in which he had been racking his brain trying to think of how to start a conversation. He stopped in his tracks as he spoke the one word, the two of them now on a quieter dirt path. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to save Tsukishima from embarrassment, no Yamaguchi to fill the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Y/N looked back at him, noticing him just standing there. “Are you alright, Tsukishima-san?”

“There’s something I need to say,” he started, his hands in his pockets clenched into fists.

“O-Oh okay.”

“I’ve been... feeling sick around you.” Baka, he scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time. That definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to say it. “I-I mean, not like sick sick but like allergy sick,” he tried to recover, but scoffed at himself since that wasn’t all that much better.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in response, trying to think about his reactions lately. He had definitely been more flushed lately, but she always thought that was annoyance. He’d been quieter and more distant, but it was Tsukishima after all. He looked over to her desperately, hoping to see that she was understanding what he was trying to say. She wasn’t. 

Tsukishima was starting to get frustrated. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at communicating but how hard was it to see how much he liked her? Yamaguchi saw it, hell, even his upperclassmen teased him about it when they first saw Tsukishima and Y/N walking out of class together one day. So why did other people who didn’t need to know it, why did they understand but she didn’t? Why was she so dense? 

You’re not saying anything, his mind reminded him as he scowled to himself.

“It has to be that,” Tsukishima finally continued quietly, his eyes now staring at his feet. He was practically trying to convince himself now. It had to be that there was a health related issue with him being around her. It had to be that, because if it wasn’t, it meant that Tsukishima had to tell her how he felt. And that meant that he was probably going to end up hurt. Why a girl like Y/N hung around a guy like him anyways was beyond him. 

“Why?” Y/N frowned, still terribly lost in the cosmos of this odd confession. “Why would it have to be that?”

“Because if it isn’t that, then it means that I’ve fallen completely head over heels for you.”

Tsukishima wasn’t sure how he had managed to say the words. But there it was. His fists tightened even more, his fingernails digging into his palm so hard it was starting to hurt. 

His eyes closed tightly, turning his head away from her. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see laughter or disgust in her eyes. Maybe he could take it back now. Maybe he could-

Tsukishima jumped at the feeling of a poke on his chest, his eyes opening in surprise when he found Y/N standing much closer than she was earlier. “Are you teasing me?” She asked defensively, squinting her eyes up at him.

“T-Teasing?” Tsukishima stammered. He watched her eyes, noting how visibly upset she looked and he could feel his frustration rising. He had finally said what he had wanted to say this whole time... and she wasn’t even reacting the way she was supposed to. How stupid did she have to be? And why did she have to look so damn cute while doing it?

“Yamaguchi-san told you, didn’t he? I knew that poophead couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she grumbled, crossing her arms against her chest. “He swore he wouldn’t tell you, but I should’ve known. You guys are best friends and all.”

“Told me... told me what?”

“That I’ve liked you practically since we met,” Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Listen, Tsukishima-san, if you don’t like me back, you don’t have to tease me like this. I’m perfectly fine being rejected,” she told him with a pout on her lips (she was definitely not fine being rejected, and was planning on crying at home after this). “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

Tsukishima‘s eyes widened, staring at her like she had grown a second head. “You... You like me?” He gulped. His allergies must be getting worse, his heart was thumping so hard against his chest, he couldn’t think straight.

Y/N and him shared a confused look for a moment, neither one of them sure who was teasing whom at this point. “Didn’t... didn’t you know? That’s why you’re being nice to me?” She asked him, poking his chest again. “Why else would you be walking me home and buying me juice?”

“Why would...” Tsukishima’s lips curled into a smile and suddenly he burst out into laughter, tilting his head back in amusement. 

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N whined, punching his arm lightly with a huff. “This isn’t a time to be laughing at me!”

Tsukishima straightened up with his signature cocky smile, shaking his head as he fixed his glasses on his face. Then, his hand moved to hit the top of her head.

“OW! Tsukishima-san!”

“You idiot. Why would I be standing here confessing to you if I was just going to make fun of you?” Tsukishima scoffed, smirking at her. “If I didn’t like you back and I found out you liked me, don’t you think I would’ve made it clear by now that you never stood a chance?”

Y/N thought about this for a moment, remembering that one time a girl in a different class had confessed to him after attending one of his matches.

“I think you’re incredible, Tsukishima-san! A-And I just.... well I just...”

“Are you trying to confess to me?” Tsukishima didn’t even bother looking up from his study book, finishing an equation before even glancing at her. “You should just give up now. I’m not interested.”

The girl had teared up so much, even Y/N had felt bad (even though she was secretly happy that Tsukishima hadn’t accepted the confession). Yamaguchi had yelled at Tsukishima about being gentle that day.

“Why would I be nice to someone stupid enough to think I’d like them? I didn’t give her any hints that I did, I don’t even know her,” Tsukishima grumbled.

Y/N had internalized those words, deciding she wouldn’t confess her feelings to Tsukishima ever. If she did, and Tsukishima rejected her, he probably wouldn’t want to be around her as friends ever again.

“So...” Y/N thought to herself for a moment, trying to reexamine what had happened today. “What was with the juice box then?” She asked him. 

“I thought...” Tsukishima frowned a little, looking up at the sky in thought. “I thought when you confess you were supposed to... give a gift or something.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his thought process and Tsukishima glared at her slightly. “You’re laughing at me now?”

She shook her head quickly, trying to stifle her giggles, “I just... I think it’s sweet,” she beamed, holding onto her little juice box even though it was empty now.

Tsukishima watched her carefully before smiling a little, patting her head gently, “Alright then, let’s get you home. I’ll bring another juice box for you for our date.”

“D-Date?” Y/N repeated shyly, following him as he started to walk again.

“You thought I’d just confess to you and not ask you out? Idiot,” Tsukishima smirked, feeling such an intense relief on his shoulders. His heart was still beating furiously and his stomach felt like it was going to come up his throat, but... it wasn’t as frustrating of a feeling now. 

After he dropped her off at her house with the promise of walking her to school tomorrow morning, Tsukishima couldn’t help but allow himself to smile widely the whole way home. 

If this is what an allergy felt like, he never wanted it to stop.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Okay like I mentioned up there in the Author’s Notes, this is my first time writing for Haikyuu so lmk what you thought :) I’ve written some stuff for OHSHC and I think it’s pretty obviously that tall jerks with glasses are my type lol 

Anyways! Enjoy!

[littlemisslipbalm]

Why Sammy��s not allowed in the ship’s cockpit

Another 'A billion light years from here' installment!

If the Kiszkas were Aliens!AU and Danny as their human friend

Image Credit: @ofthecaravel ofc!

Heyyyy so I've been writing more about my favorite aliens and human daniel! I'll make a masterlist for this series of little stories so they can be collected in one place besides my master masterlist. The first installment is here if you want a little background but even that isn't extensive and I have wayyy more planned for this strange set of stories that I love so much. They focus largely on family and friendship and fun!!!

Once again, thanks to @ofthecaravel because Karou helps with so much of the inspiration and convos that occur in this. i love u bro <3

Enjoy and let me know what you think, give it a reblog perhaps!

Word Count: 1k | Warnings: baby Kiszkas and Daniel, alien!AU, some swearing, Jake having a potential captain kink? (as an adult ofc)

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On Sam’s fifth arrival anniversary, he snuck out with his new human pet, Daniel, to the brothers’ spaceship. 

Jake and Josh hadn’t noticed right away. Initially they had been happy to not have to deal with the rambunctious munchkin of a child Sam had chosen to become. They liked doing stuff on their own at this age. Their eight-year-old human bodies and minds only ever wanted to do stuff on their own or tease their little brother. But it was his arrival anniversary or as human’s called it, his birthday. They were told they weren’t supposed to be mean to him today. 

But after 10 minutes passed with no interruption to the twin’s construction site in the backyard, Jake grew suspicious and Josh’s ears quickly perked to listen for his younger brother around the house at twin’s request. But he didn’t hear Sam’s breathing or heart beat even. He shut his eyes and focused his mind further out and then he heard him. 

In his mind’s eye he saw an image of his baby brother, his body tiny, just the size of a five year old but the ambitions of a stubborn teenager. Sam was rattling around the spacehip, attempting to remember which switches were which. He was babbling to himself…no, not to himself. 

“Shoot,” Josh mutters, eyes still closed as Jake watches him curiously. “Sammy’s in the ship.”

“He can’t fly it alone, it’s fine,” Jake shrugs, continuing to dig his hole deeper. 

“He’s with Danny too,” Josh comments calmly, knowing Jake will spring to action at this addition. 

“Oh, shoot. Shoot, indeed,” Jake’s on his feet, shovel forgotten on the ground as he begins marching towards the forest.  

The twins make quick work of the trek through the forest. The path is unforgettable to them. In a flash, Sam is being pulled from the pilot’s seat by Jake and Josh is ushering Danny out of the spaceship, the lock twisting effortlessly behind them. 

An eight-year-old Jake holds his little brother by the collar of his shirt after placing Sam onto the forest floor. Sam immediately begins to wail, kicking his feet violently at his brother. 

“You can’t bring Dan on the ship, Sammy,” Jake states sternly. 

“It’s not fair! It’s my arrival anniversary, I wanna show Daniel the universe!” Sam whines between watery tears. 

“You know a human can’t second a ship, Sam,” Jake attempts to reason, rolling his eyes at his younger brother who continues to swing at him, the tears doing anything but subsiding. “Plus, you didn’t even graduate with a pilot’s licence and your legs are way too short to reach the pedals. Now can you stop kicking me, jerk?!”

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” Sam continues to repeat. Jake takes a deep breath and rides out the tantrum. 

Josh has the arguably easier job of talking to Danny. After ushering him out of the spaceship, Josh walked him and the younger human off to the side of the clearing, keeping them close enough to Sam and Jake to be in human eyesight but far enough to slightly drown out Sam’s wailing. 

“Hey, Dan,” Josh starts as they sit down on some small stones big enough for their small bodies. “That was a spaceship, right?” 

“It’s a really cool gift you got for Sam, it looks super realistic.” 

“That’s because it is real,” Josh says confidently, but Danny’s chuckle makes his prideful look turn to a frown. 

“Can you tell me another story about the pretend aliens out there?”

Josh sighs a little exasperated breath, his eyes going up to the sky for a moment, imagining home for just a moment. “Well, okay, but for the last time, it’s not pretend! We really are aliens!”

Danny giggles and the smile on his face is one of pure joy and delight. “You’re so funny, Josh.” 

Josh grins back at the little human beside him. 

He was glad Sam had found someone to befriend on Earth. He had a feeling that Danny would become an important person in all their lives, but especially Sam’s. He always worried about his younger brother having someone who was like Jake for him or Josh for his twin, someone to complete him. He had a strong feeling Danny was going to be that for him. Ever since Sam brought Danny home after his first day in preschool the notion had been there, but it grew each year and each time Danny refused to be fazed by the alien thing. If only Josh knew the amount of joy he and his brothers would experience the day Danny finally believed them. But for the eight year old twins and the five year old menace named Sam, that moment was a far ways off. 

A couple decades later, the twins are reminiscing on the story. They dubbed it: ‘The reason why Sam’s not allowed in the cockpit. Ever.’ By now, Danny has finally realized that his friends weren’t joking the entire time about their true alien identities and come to terms with it – a story for another time. 

“Do you remember that, Dan?” Jake chuckles while Sam has the decency to be embarassed. 

“His eyes were like two full moons after I coaxed him off the ship,” Josh cackles. “But he still refused to believe me that it was real.” 

“Yeah, vaguely,” Danny agrees. “I mostly just remember Sam being so sure of himself that he could fly that thing and that made me think it couldn’t possibly be real.” 

“Fuck you,” Sam bites back his smile and attempts to sound a little bitter. “It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be a pilot, Jake’s schooling seemed boring as fuck.” 

“You wish you could’ve been a pilot,” Jake tosses back. 

“You just get off on calling yourself Captain…hate to break it to ya’ Jakey but it’s not a pirate ship.” Sam is snide in his remark and Jake’s mouth is agape. 

“Sam, don’t be mean to your brother when he’s the one who put up with your tantrums the most throughout the years.” Josh is quick to intercede before anything more is said. Jake looks smug so Josh decides to add. “But you’re right, it isn’t a pirate ship and only the girls in our universe find it cool when you call yourself ‘Captain’.” 

Jake uses both his hands to flip off his two brothers at once. 

“I love you, guys,” Danny chuckles, grinning with that same boyish delight.