#perks of having your hearing worsening I guess??

[missjashin]

Wayne finding Eddie and Steve sleeping together and he is taken aback but not because Eddie sleeping with a boy or not even because he is sleeping with Harrington. No, he is taken aback because the boy is sleeping soundly with Eddie. His Eddie. Who happens to be snoring like a jackhammer.

And yet there Steve is. His head resting on the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, basically having his ear right on the level of Eddie’s mouth, but face relaxed like nothing has ever bothered him in his life.

[princesstaeille]

Ob(li)vious

summary: taeyong is a really sweet guy, fun-loving, and a treat to be around. he gets along with everyone, everyone who isn’t you. you’re determined to change that.

pairing(s): taeyong x f!reader

genre(s): office!au, fluff, angst

warning(s): miscommunication, self-esteem issues (pls let me know if there are more)

wc: 3.7k

notes: this one goes out to all my rbf girlies ;-;. also inspired by this post. if you enjoyed reading, pls like/reblog and comment! thank you xxx

Taeyong looks away from his computer and at the stack of papers that landed on his desk with a startling thwack. His gaze trails from the documents to the woman who stares down at him firmly, jaw set, and lips pinched into a tight line.

“I finished the report for you since you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” You say. “It’s due tomorrow, in case you forgot.”

You tell Taeyong this in the most nonchalant tone you can muster, ignoring the warm sensation in your face that almost feels like burning and the overall spiking body temperature that makes you wonder if someone decided to turn on the heat. You want to play it cool. Be the friendly, outgoing coworker who completes favors for others without prompting and brings a smile to another’s face, much like Taeyong himself. You want to give him that same kind of feeling that he gives to everyone else so badly, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him when he begins to…shake?

What? Why is he shaking?

“S-sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”

Sorry? That isn’t what you want to hear. You want to hear him thank you and gaze at you with gratitude sparkling in his eyes and that same sweet little smile he wears when he jokes with others in the break room. But you get an apology instead and no eye contact, and why is he shaking?!

Taeyong’s trembling only seems to worsen, and he looks at you wide with those big brown boba eyes. His mouth opens and shuts as he searches for a reply. “I-I guess I had too much coffee this morning, haha,” he eventually stutters and tries to smile, but all that results is a flimsy grimace.

Shoot. You didn’t mean to say that out loud, much less shout at him. But your gaze hardens as you watch his hands tremble, and you scoff, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as you return to your desk.

Stupid coffee.

“Uh oh, someone’s upset.”

You look up at Jihyo as she sets her lunch down beside you. Joy sits across from the two of you and nods in agreement. They look at you expectantly.

Heaving a sigh, you lift your head out of your arms and sit up completely. “It’s,” you pause and scan the cafeteria for wandering ears before looking back at Jihyo and Joy, “it’s Bubble Tea.”

“Again?” Joy asks and rolls her eyes, “I told you to just talk to him.”

You glare at her suggestion. “You say that like it’s so easy, but every time I try, he acts as if he’s seen a hideous troll and starts quivering in his boots.”

Jihyo snorts and takes a bite into her sandwich while watching you and Joy bicker. She notices how the scowl on your lips stretches, and your brows grow close. She wonders for a second whether she should separate the two of you before you can get any hits on each other. Then it dawns on her.

“Your face is the problem!”

“Excuse you?!”

Joy cackles.

Jihyo clears her throat and shakes her head. “Not like you’re ugly. You’re just…stern.”

“Mean.” Joy teases, and you glare at her once more.

“Your strong will physically shows itself. You have an assertive face.” Jihyo says proudly.

“You have RBF.” Joy clarifies.

“Okay…what should I do then?”

Joy perks up and claps her hands excitedly. “Dye your hair. Purple. Or blue.”

“Maybe change up your style. Wear something cute.” Jihyo suggests.

A frown settles on your lips as you study your current outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”

“It’s just so…serious. Like you mean business.”

“We work in an office.”

“And?”

You shake your head and steal a chip from Jihyo’s lunch, popping it into your mouth and ignoring her offended gasp. “I don’t think I’ll do that…it’s too much. I want him to like me, not me with purple hair and a new wardrobe.”

Both of them nod understandingly. “Of course,” Jihyo begins, “no point in chasing after someone who doesn’t want you as is.”

“Exactly. Don’t settle for a man who can’t handle your ‘assertive’ facial expressions! Bubble Tea’ll come around if he knows what’s good for him.” Joy winks.

The next day passes quicker than expected, and you already find yourself parting ways with Jihyo and Joy as you walk back to the main office. There are still a few minutes left of lunch, which explains why you see some of your coworkers huddled around Taeyong’s desk.

You hear a few murmurs and giggles that interrupt them and slowly approach the group to see what the fuss is about. 

“So she’s completely oblivious. Just humming to herself as she gets ready to ski. Meanwhile, a massive grizzly bear,” Taeyong pauses and spreads his arms wide, “is just chasing her down, and she has no clue.” 

Everyone laughs in disbelief, and they match Taeyong’s wide-eyed look. 

You observe quietly, basking in the warm, carefree atmosphere from a few feet away. Then you remember a scene from the drama you watched last night, the one where the girl tells the guy a joke that’s entirely too cheesy. Still, he laughs anyway and looks down at her endearingly. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of the same happening to you.

So, you clear your throat and gain everyone’s attention. “Good thing it wasn’t a polar bear,” you say with a smile, “otherwise we’d be hearing this story on the news, haha.”

Crickets.

The smile on your lips falters when you’re met with silence and your coworkers’ looks that call you crazy. Guess they didn’t find it as funny as you did. You glance at Taeyong to gauge his reaction, but he acts like you’re not there, visibly tense and avoiding your gaze.

So, you go back to your desk.

Silence greets you as you walk through your apartment door, cold and lonely as always. You kick off your shoes and leave them strewn messily by the door, throwing your work bag down somewhere near them before making a tired stumble to the kitchen. 

It’s like muscle memory. Reach into the freezer and grab a meal (doesn’t matter which), rip off the cardboard seal and slit (or aggressively stab) the plastic film, and throw it in the mic for five minutes while you wrestle your way out of your white button-up and black high-waisted pants that are a bit too tight but make your legs look nice. 

You turn the TV to channel five, RV News with anchorwoman Bae Joohyun, and sit on the sofa with the piping hot tray in your lap, struggling to maneuver it so it won’t burn your thighs. You eat and stare at the raven-haired anchorwoman speaking about another corner store robbery gone wrong in that gentle honey voice of hers. She drones on about how the perpetrator used a water gun to intimidate the cashier. Still, you’re hardly listening as you wonder how someone can look so flawless, even on your grainy and broken 1986 Panasonic TV. Even the static fuzz that manages to peek through barely obstructs RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun’s ethereal beauty, and you wonder if she’s wearing a wig, hair so perfect with not a strand out of place. You wonder where she bought that lip tint as your teeth snag onto your own.

 Your dinner goes cold, but you don’t notice when you lock eyes with the Kokubu Yurie poster that hangs above your bed. You wonder, as you admire her soft gaze and stylish flare in that red, oversized blazer, you wonder if a sweet song and magical electric guitar riff is what’ll get Taeyong to look at you and finally sweep you off your feet like in all those cheesy dramas you love to watch.

The food in your mouth turns to a sandpapery mush. You sit and wonder if you could cook—if you could make a hot meal, fresh from the oven and not a grocery shelf—if the smell of a home-cooked meal made with love is enough to lead Taeyong to you. 

You wonder if you were more like all the leads in your favorite romances—timid, passive, unassuming—if you had a special twinkle in your eye or softer hair or a prettier smile, if that’s what it takes to enchant him like all the others. The food goes down your throat like gravel. You lose your appetite.

With a heavy sigh, you trudge your way through your bedtime routine and lie down, dreaming of a world where Taeyong doesn’t look at you like a deer in headlights.

Apprehensive eyes stare back at you as you study your appearance from your rearview mirror. Actually, those eyes stare at the bow clipped in your hair that you rummaged through your closet for; you weren’t even sure you had it. It’s a light peach bow, petite, with a white pearl at its center. It was cute enough, you decided at 5 AM when you were really contemplating buying box dye, but it was late and cold and you didn’t feel like getting robbed at water gunpoint, so you had to settle.

Your eyes flit to your lips, which are covered in a shimmery, sheer pink gloss you also found in your closet. You have to tell yourself multiple times not to chew on your lips, but at least they taste like strawberries.

You will away the uncertainty your reflection carries and sternly tell the knot in your stomach to unravel itself. Maybe this isn’t your usual look, but there’s nothing wrong with trying something new. You have nothing to lose, you think with firm resolve. But your fingers still tremble slightly as they smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit and reach for the car handle when you finally force yourself to walk into work.

Once you’re inside, you make a beeline for the break room. You can’t cook, but you can make a mean cup of tea, which has to count for something. The sweet scent of orange and honey wafts into the air once you lift the lid from the cup after steeping, and, with a satisfied smile, you march over to Taeyong’s desk.

You set the cup down and then straighten up. Your proud smile leaves you. You don’t want to be too obvious. “This should help with your shaking,” you state, then awkwardly add, “it’s my favorite.”

Taeyong’s eyes switch between you and the steaming tea beside him, wide with surprise. “Oh..! Thanks..?” He gingerly picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip.

You don’t mean to stare in anticipation, watching his every move, from how his fingers curl around the cup to how his tongue darts out to lick up any stray drops of tea. For a split second, you think you might’ve seen the corners of his mouth twitch upward, but you mistake it for a tremor. 

Taeyong pales at the sight of your clenched fist.

“Drink it all.” You demand, pointing firmly at the cup in his hands.

“Yes—yes, ma’am.” 

You ignore the crack in his voice as you stalk back to your desk. 

The day goes as usual: you finish some paperwork, send out a few emails, and take a few not-so-subtle glances at Taeyong over your bulky computer screen. You’re shocked when you make eye contact a few times, though he always looks away as soon as you do, eyes blown wide like a little doe. But you note that he finished the tea. All of it.

Soon, 7 PM rolls around, and you’re ready to clock out. RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun is waiting for you on channel five. You gather all your belongings and sling your work bag over your shoulder with a small sigh. The lights in the office are dim; most people have already left for home, but you stayed a bit longer to tie up some loose ends. You think you’re the only one still in the office until you notice a warm light coming from one of the desks across from you. 

Taeyong’s desk.

Biting the inside of your cheek only does so much to keep you from imagining this as a perfect moment from a romance drama starring you. You could stay and offer to help, get closer to the guy you’ve been after all this time, and finally have a chat, maybe exchange numbers! Or, you could go home and snuggle up in bed where Kokubu Yurie, your stuffed animals, and RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun wait listlessly to hear you complain about events that are unlikely to occur between you and your office crush, effectively saving you from any embarrassment and ultimately leaving you wondering ‘what if?’

“Hey, um…” you clear your throat as you approach Taeyong’s desk. “Need any help?”

His brown eyes look up at you briefly before returning to the hefty stack of papers before him, and he quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no! I–I got it, you don’t need to—to waste your time—”

Taeyong shuts up when an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you reach over to grab half the stack of papers. 

“I’m doing this half.” You say in a tone that leaves no room for argument, and all Taeyong can do is nod dumbly.

It’s mindless work, and the two of you complete it in silence, slowly whittling down the stack. You barely even notice how you sit beside each other, only a shoulder apart. 

“Hey.” You nudge Taeyong’s shin with the tip of your shoe. “Do you have a sticky note? One of the pages is missing.” You frown.

He doesn’t look up from his stack when he wordlessly hands you a stack of sticky notes. Cinnamoroll-themed sticky notes.

At first, you’re confused. Are…are these his? Did someone give them to him, like a child, or did he buy them with his own money? Your mouth gapes a little, but you're speechless. You draw a blank while the white, chubby puppy stares back at you.

“This…this is so cute.” You laugh, using your hand to cover the smile that spreads across your face. But then you notice the pen, the matching pen. “Oh my god, it writes in blue glitter ink…”

Taeyong glances up from the paper he’s scanning when he sees your shoulders shake from the corner of his eye. He initially thinks you’re crying, and his eyes fill with panic. But then he catches a glimpse of your upturned lips, and his breath hitches.

“...woah.”

“Hm?”

Taeyong finds himself smiling a bit, too. “I just…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”

You stare back at him with a bemused smile and tilt your head. Never seen you do what before? You stop writing on the sticky note when you realize what he means. He’s never seen you smile before or laugh. He’s never seen you express joy. Your smile quickly drops.

What did he think you were? A soulless monster?

A stern glare replaces any softness left in your gaze as you stare down Taeyong’s paling form.

You both go back to working in silence.

It’s close to 9 PM when you and Taeyong finish the paperwork. You stand up from your seat and get in a much-needed shoulder stretch, dreaming of your soft pillow waiting for you at home. Your eyes wander over to Taeyong, who quietly gathers his things and walks toward the elevator. You follow not too far behind.

There’s still an awkward silence that hovers as the two of you enter the elevator, but you don’t mind it much. You spent a whole two hours with Taeyong, just the two of you. Sure, you were completing some tedious and, quite frankly, pointless paperwork that no one else would read. Still, it’s the fact that you both were in a room alone together. In the dark. At night. Together.

You squeal, jump, and dance around your mind like a little schoolgirl, rocking back and forth on your heels. You don’t notice that, in reality, you’re burning a hole into the walls with the intensity of your glare.

And now, you think dreamily, you’re on the elevator together, heading home. Would you hold hands? Would he offer to drive you to your apartment? Would you, maybe…kiss?

All these questions run through your mind one after the other, and you suppress the urge to squeal aloud. You lean over and peer at Taeyong with a small smile when you notice…that he’s huddled in the corner opposite of you. His eyes are glued to the wall beside him as if it’s the most marvelous thing in the world, and he refuses to look at you.

So, no kiss.

“Do you really find me that unattractive?” You note how he immediately flinches at the sound of your voice, and something inside you breaks.

“...what?”

“You won’t even look at me. Am I that ugly?”

The question prompts Taeyong to reluctantly acknowledge your presence. His brows furrow.

A humorless laugh escapes you as you shift from foot to foot. “I’ve…I’ve been trying to get your attention.” You speak with an exasperated sigh and nervous swallow, “I really like you and thought I was being pretty obvious, but you always cower in fear whenever I walk into the room.” You laugh again weakly, this time at how desperate you sound.

Taeyong resembles a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he searches for a reply. “I—I thought you hated me.”

 “Is that why you thought I couldn’t laugh or smile?” You ask defensively.

“Not around me, no.”

“...oh.

I don’t. Hate you, I mean. I really don’t.”

The silence returns, more palpable now, and you can’t help but feel a little stupid. The elevator ding! interrupts your thoughts of self-pity, signaling that you’ve reached the first floor.

The doors slowly open, and Taeyong moves to leave first, but he stops in the doorway and, without glancing back, quietly wishes you “good night.”

You catch your reflection in the closing elevator doors. Your eyes drift to the bow in your hair and the gloss on your lips, and you deflate with a sigh.

Crabby, red eyes glare back at you from your rearview mirror. This time, there’s no petite, light peach bow in your hair for your eyes to fiddle with. You kept the pink gloss, though. You look cute wearing it.

 With your jaw set and lips pinched into a tight line, your so-called ‘RBF’ is so strong that you intimidate yourself a little. At least your scowl tastes like strawberries.

When you walk into the office, you decide you won’t bother with Taeyong anymore. You sit down at your desk and get to work. It’s pointless to keep up with this childish crush, you tell yourself. You also didn’t see him at his desk and wouldn’t be surprised if he quit because of you, not that you cared.

You reach for your cup of tea and let the sweet smell waft into your nose, humming in delight as you take a sip.

Wait.

You didn’t make this.

Taeyong looks away just as your eyes flit up to look at him. He coughs and frowns as if remembering something, then meets your gaze with a sheepish smile.

“Thought I’d return the favor,” he says with a slight shrug. “Also, you’re right. This flavor’s pretty good.”

Once again, you’re speechless. You have to remember to swallow the tea in your mouth before letting your jaw drop because Taeyong, the same guy who tried merging with the elevator wall out of his fear of you, is smiling at you. Is speaking to you without shaking.

And his smile only grows at the sight of your dumbfounded expression. He leaves you there, dazed, and walks away with a chuckle.

Jihyo takes a bite from her salad and chews slowly, eyes locked on you in deep concentration. She watches as you quietly hum to yourself. It's probably another city pop song. She notes there’s something off about you, but she can’t quite place it. Her gaze hardens, and she peers at you a bit closer.

“…are you wearing lip gloss?”

You look up from your lunch and nod, a faint smile on your shimmery, pink lips.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Jihyo throws her hands up in resignation.

You glance between her and Joy with questioning eyes. “What?”

“Don’t play coy with us.” Joy shakes her head and points her chopsticks at you. “Your attitude has completely changed between this morning and now. Just a few hours ago, you looked dead-set on murder, and now you’ve got this dumb grin on your face.”

You scoff and look away from them, waving off their suspicions. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try forcing your lips into a straight line.

“You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”

“Be quiet.”

Jihyo rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands together, a grave look on her face as she leans in. “She told Bubble Tea.”

“Ugh, finally.” Joy groans in relief. “So you’re dating now?”

“I genuinely have no clue what you’re talking about.” You deny but refuse to look either woman in the eye. Instead, you glance at your wrist and gasp. “Seems we’ve run out of time, ladies. See you tomorrow.” You rush your words while throwing away your trash and dash for the stairs.

“You’re not even wearing a watch!” Joy accuses.

“They grow up so fast.” You faintly hear Jihyo sigh.

They clamber after you, yelling teases and congratulations that earn them a couple of weird looks, but you don’t bother to stop. They follow you all the way back to your desk even though they work on the other side of the building.

“What’d you do, scream at him?” Joy asks. “You think that’s his type of thing?”

“Would you hush?” You push her playfully, eyes nervously glancing around the room, hoping no one else heard that.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jihyo wipes away an invisible tear. “I knew you could do it.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing like that happened. We just…talked.”

“Like I told you to do in the first place?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” you say and sit down, your shoulders sagging slightly at the thought. You prepare to return to work and reach for a file but freeze. There’s a sticky note on your desk. A Cinnamoroll-themed sticky note.

Gingerly bringing it up to your eyes, you, Jihyo, and Joy read what’s written in blue glitter ink. 

It’s a phone number. 

Let’s get to know each other better :)

- L. TY

thank you so much for reading! please leave a like and a comment. reblogs are appreciated too!

[writeanythingagency]

Yandere!Miles Edgeworth asks out Taken!Reader Scenario 🍁

hello! i got kind of inspired and wrote this all in a hurry. this is my first post here, but my askbox is open for ace attorney x reader requests (at my discretion of course). i’ll make a post introducing myself one day :)

TW: Abuse of power, also just yandere stuff in general

There was little you could do to stop the clamminess of your palms or the quickened pace of your heart. Yes, Mr. Edgeworth seemed a tad nicer to you these days, but he was still your boss, the Demon Prosecutor. And the Demon Prosecutor seldom calls anyone up to his private office on the twelfth floor. Individually.

You knock on the mahogany door anyways, half expecting to be turned away before you hear a commanding “Enter.” from the other side. The man breaks into a wry smirk when he meets your gaze, the piercing silver as caustic as ever. “L/N.”

“Hello, Prosecutor Edgeworth. You requested my presence.”

“Please, L/N. We are work colleagues in this building but I have no qualms with you referring to me as Edgeworth. Or Miles, even.” The offhand remark takes you off guard, and you wonder if this is the calm before the storm.

“Alright…Miles,” you manage for fear of defying your boss. Odd, he almost perks up at the word. “I admit I’m a little confused as to why you’ve called me here today.”

Edgeworth motions for you to take a seat and goes to fetch a cup of tea. “You seem like an earl gray kind of person.” A steaming teacup filled with what is, yes, your preferred variety of tea sits in his hands. You realize he means for you to take it.

“Oh, thanks…Miles. How did you know this was my favorite?” Deft fingers lightly brush yours in the exchange; the motion seems nearly deliberate.

“Educated guess.” The answer feels incomplete, but you have little time to ponder the idea before Edgeworth clears his throat and speaks again. “In any case, I called you to ask if you would like to join me for dinner, 6 PM at The Ritz Parlor.”

The words stew in silence for a few suspended moments while you formulate a reply. Were it not Prosecutor Edgeworth, you’d think him to be somewhat nervous. “Of course. Will anyone I know be there?”

The tips of his ears turn as red as his suit, and you worry that you might have misspoken. “It will be the two of us. And the two of us only.”

You furrow your brows in confusion before the thought comes to you, absurdly and all at once. “Mr. Edgeworth, you’re not asking me on a date, are you?” A poorly suppressed nghhh follows.

“Well…that is to say…” Edgeworth indulges in a quick sigh to collect himself. “If your definition of a date is an outing between two people with…romantic intentions, then yes, I am asking.” The man offers a bouquet of freshly cut roses, seemingly from nowhere. You take them mindlessly and open the little envelope it came with. Inside is a check with a worrying amount of zeros and a confirmation of a dinner reservation.

You think for a moment that you should be flattered; after all, Mr. Edgeworth pays no mind to his throng of fans much less a nondescript subordinate. But the moment passes, and your only solace is the fact that this is all within the privacy of his office. Your cheeks flame with astonishment and embarrassment. Is this real life?

You might have said that out loud, because his confusion only worsens. “Mr. Edgeworth, I’m very flattered by the invitation but I cannot accept the kind offer.” The facade cracks slightly but visibly, just long enough to catch a glimpse of the disappointment simmering within. “What I mean is,” you quickly backtrack, “it wouldn’t be exactly ethical, would it?”

“If business ethics is the issue, I will deal with it,” Edgeworth interjects briskly. There’s no room for doubt in his words, which greatly concerns you. “If you have other reasons for rejecting my offer, say them now.”

His glare is scathing and condescending, despite the fact that the man had asked you out on a date not even several minutes earlier. “W-Well, you see…” Damn it, might as well drop the bomb now. “I’m already spoken for.”

The prosecutor’s face cycles through a variety of emotions, some recognizable, others foreign. Disappointment, you recognize. Humiliation, you could puzzle out despite never having expected such a look on Mr. Edgeworth. But there was something truly bizarre too, with his pupils shrinking and vacillating violently and lips pressed into a terse line, turned pale from the effort. You don’t have a name for it, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Very well. I apologize for taking up your time.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were even holding and set down the cumbersome bouquet. “Thank you, Miles. You should know I hold you in high esteem and that I hope this will not affect our working relationship.”

“Rest assured, it won’t.” He strides over to the door, holding it open for you as a gentleman would. “But do know that my door is always open for you, should you ever need me,” he adds almost as an afterthought.

You don’t really know what to say, besides “that’s appreciated.” Your best hope is that he’ll stick to his word and forget this ever happened. Of course, the Demon Prosecutor is not known in court for sticking to his word.

“If I may ask, who is this person lucky enough to capture your attention?” He might’ve been laying it on thick there, but the mention of your partner never fails to induce a smile. You give their name to the prosecutor, hardly thinking of why that information was needed at all.

As you call for an elevator mildly thankful that your salary made it out of that office intact, you can’t shake off the sense of being watched. And the feeling you have just made a grave, grave mistake.

[inupibaldspot]

Our Snowfall

Pairing: Baji x Reader

Request: OPEN

Note: I cried writing this I’m in so much pain rn 😭

Baji slowly opened the door,revealing room of white color, with faint sent of medicines and anti-septic's.

Earlier he was playing catch with Mikey outside, but Mikey wanting to show off threw the ball too hard making the ball zoom across the sky as it breaks the window to a hospital room.

Baji was about to shout at Mikey only to find the blonde boy had disappeared without a trace. And now Baji was on a mission to get his ball back.

“I’m sorry for breaking your window.” Baji bows his head from the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Baji blinked in confusion. The voice was that of a young child and not an adult like he was expecting. He raises his head to see a small figure ,who looked really weak.

The person smiled. “The ball is on the table there. It would be best if you left before nurse comes back.”

Baji nods as he walks in and takes the ball. He notices that the broken glasses pieces were already picked up and clean.

Baji turns to look at you. “My name is Baji Keisuke. What is yours?”

Your lips curl into a weak smile. “My name is Y/N…”

Baji walks towards you. “Are you sick,Y/N?” His expression was somewhat worried.

You nod. “I’ve been here forever.” You laugh. “Mama told me I can’t go outside because I get sick easily so I stay at the hospital so Mr. Doctor can help me…”

Baji frowned. He was always an active kid who spend most of his time playing around so when he heard that you don’t get to go outside,it made him sad. “Is it okay if I visit you sometime.”

Your eyes widens as color appears on your cheeks,you then smiled brightly. “I would love that!”

True to his words,Baji immediately visited you the next day.

Ever since Baji entered your life,your life has been full of colors. Baji would always talk about how he spend his day,he would talk about his friends and all the crazy thing they would do.

He would always visit you,never making you feel lonely. Along the way he even introduced some of his friends. First he brought Mikey along and then the next Mitsuya and Pachin.

You were scared at first when Baji said they were in gangs but when you got to know them,they were just dorks,lovable and funny dorks.

“I heard this time we are going to have a white Christmas.” You said as you looked outside.

Baji who was cutting apples for you, stopped as he looks at you. “Are you going to be with your parents?”

You shook your head. “Both my mom and dad are going to be busy with work so they said we can’t celebrate it with me this time.”

You smiled as you turned to look at Baji. “But the nurses said they’re going to set up a Christmas tree so I’m excited!”

Baji looks at how your eyes brightened when you talked about the Christmas tree. You looked so happy talking about and that made you seem so much beautiful.

“I’m sure it would look so pretty-“ Your words came to a halt when you started coughing. The coughing never seemed to die down making Baji rush to your side and when it finally did,there were blood in your hands. He looked at you in horror but you didn’t seem to panic,rather you looked as if you were think ‘Not this again.’ As if this happened regularly.

“I’ll get the doctor real quick!” With that he rushes away.

…….

To your dismay the Christmas tree was smaller than expected but nevertheless you enjoyed the cake your parents ordered for you,you ended up eating them with the grandma next door.

Maybe it was because you weren’t with Baji today,the day felt bit gloomier even-though it was such a joyous day. You missed Baji. 

Just when you were about to sleep,tiny knocks were heard at your door. “Psttt, Y/N.”

You look at the door confused. “Baji what are you doing here?”

Before you knew it,Baji makes you wear a thick jacket and cover your neck with a muffler not answering your question.The wide grin on his face perked your curiosity more.

He then kneels in front of you,his back facing you. “Get on!”

“Huh?”

Baji turns to you and he gives you a grin. “I’m going to show you a huge Christmas tree.”

Baji and you then sneak out of the hospital as he carries you to the main town. You gleam at how beautifully the place was decorated. The air outside was cold but it was so fresh, so much frsh as compared to the air in your hospital room.

“It started snowing!” You shouted excited as you raised one of you hand to try and hold it,only for it to melt as soon as it touches you. “The report was right! We’re having a white Christmas!” It was your first time actually being outside when it was snowing, normally you'd only watch the snow from inside.

Places were beautifully lit, decorated with lights filled with joyful atmosphere. Some with their family others on dates. As people start to stare at the sky taking in the entrance of the snow.

“We’re here!” Baji stops walking as he nudges his head at a particular direction.

There at a distance was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights, colorful bulbs and small other decorations. “Wow…”

“Beautiful isn’t it-“ Baji stopped speaking as he looked at your expression. Your eyes gleamed as it shone,from all the lights, you nose and cheeks slightly flushed from cold but the most beautiful part was your smile.

You burrowed you face against Baji’s neck,making him feel ticklish but he didn’t mind it rather he love it. “Thank you Keisuke …” He could feel your breath against his neck.

“I’m so glad I could spend the Christmas with you…”

……

“I hate school!” Baji shouts as he messes his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why I have to study this bull shit!” Baji was currently in you room as he worked on his homework while you were reading a book. A pleasant way you guys would spend your time together. It has almost been two years since you guys met.

You laugh at Baji’s expression as you set down the book you were reading. “Come on now~ Don’t say that..I think school must be fun.”

Baji stops as he realizes what he did. You were someone who could never join school after multiple incidents of you passing out or getting rushed to hospitals when you were a kid.

You couldn’t experience school like he did. Baji huffs as he goes back to his books. “Fine… I’ll aim for twenty marks this time.”

“Twenty? That’s not even the pass mark.” You laugh at him. “How about you go for thirty at least.”

“Thats not the pass mark either, Y/N!“

You were about to say something when a sudden thought came into mind. “Keisuke … I actually was watching tv yesterday and I saw someone making a pumpkin themed cake…”

“So I thought I’d want to eat that but I don’t think I can complete it by myself. So how about you join me…?” Your cheeks flushed red.

You were basically asking him out on a date.Sure you guys spend time together alone but you never once made an offer like this to him. It has been months since you figured out you had feelings so Baji but you never really acted on it.

Since the thought of you getting rejected and in turn losing a beloved friend scared you to no end.

“Sure!” You turned your head quickly at his reply. Baji was smiling as well as he continued. “When would it be?”

You smile as you brought your hands together, excited. “I was thinking of October 31..”

“Ah… I don’t think I can join you then…” Baji replied regretfully. “How about November 1?”

“Sure!” As long as you could spend time with Baji, you were happy.

But then that day never came.

That day you waited for Baji to enter the room,with an untouched cake box on the table. The door opens to reveal Mikey,Draken and Mitsuya.

“Baji…Baji died during our fight against Valhalla …”

Would it be funny if you said you ate the cake while you cried? Probably,but that’s what you actually did. Stuffing you mouth with the soft creamy treat as tears pool you eyes.

Days after were as if a curtain closed closed your window, everything felt so much dim and it didn’t help that your condition seemed to worsen.

You were losing weight at an alarming rate,coughing up more blood at frequent rates. You grew increasingly weaker as you parents even took time off their jobs to nurse you.

But at certain nights you would wake up in tears,as you could barely breathe as you searched for Baji,hoping to see him with you in the room. “Keisuke…”

It was a peaceful winter evening ,the air was cold and places were quiet as white snow gently falls in the ground.

People outside were looking and hoping that the snow would set properly. Kids were already outside as they excitedly play out, parents in their homes were making food to warm themselves up.

“Stay with me Y/N!”

People were rushing all over the room as you dad hold your crying mom.

You head felt as if it was going to burst,a strong sense of nausea filled you. Everything you hear and see seemed so muffled and blur.

Despite you body feeling limp, it was twitching. You breathing which was rapid at first seemed to now slow down,accompanied with a strong aching pain.

Then suddenly all those suffering at once disappear.

You entered into a white place,as if each and every part was covered in snow.Your body felt light with no presence of pain that you were feeling just a second before.

 You walked around too see that in a distance was a very familiar person.A person who made you life so much brighter. A person who you enjoyed every moment spend with him. A person you loved.

That person turns around as he expression turns into a frown.

“Why did you join me so early?”

You smile as a tear rolls down your face. “I guess I missed you too much,Keisuke.”

[danadeservesadrink]

These Wounds We Heal

Chapter 1: The First Time

Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss

Wordcount: 1.0K

No Warnings Apply

Aaron Hotchner is a doctor and Emily keeps popping up in his hospital. 

Read on AO3 here or below the cut!

The first time she winds up in his emergency room it’s at the end of a 12 hour shift.

She was his last patient of the night. He was tired and his feet hurt and the coffee pot in the break room wasn’t nearly made strong enough to get him through the rest of this shift. He heads to his last patient's room, head buried in a clipboard, fully intent on giving her a once over and getting out within 5 minutes.

Emily Prentiss. Visible external trauma to face and torso, minor contusions, fractured ribs 9 and 10 on left side, x-rays revealed no internal trauma or bleeding. Minor concussion.

He would sign the prescription for a high-dose acetaminophen and discharge her to a family member. Easy enough. He might even get home in time to catch Jack before bed.

He reaches the room and hears her mutter “fucking finally” under her breath as he swishes the curtain open. He looks up from her chart as he hears a soft “Emily” come from the corner, and notices a blonde woman sitting in the chair next to the bed. She’s hushing the woman lying in the bed, presumably his patient and the one who said the offending comment.

He pauses to survey her as she rolls her eyes at her friend. She looks like shit. She has a friction abrasion down the side of her face, likely trailing down her left side as well. Her blouse is half on, muddied and torn at the elbow, blood stains spotted along the side. Her eyes look sunken in, buried under various cuts and scrapes, but they glint with something fierce when she looks up at him. She’d be exceptionally pretty if she didn’t look like she got dragged behind a truck for ten miles. Hell, she was still exceptionally pretty. The fact that she’s sitting up is either evidence that her pain medication has already kicked in, or that she’s extremely stubborn. Given her initial comment he’d guess the latter.

“Emily Prentiss?” he asks as he places her chart on the side table. The woman in the bed grunts and nods which he takes as confirmation. “You have quite the impressive fracture on your 9th and 10th ribs, but x-rays looked good, no internal bleeding” he starts. He pauses as he’s rattling off her chart when she leans over and whispers something that sounds like “I told you so” to her friend in the chair. She swats back at her again, catching his eye before staring purposefully at the brunette on the bed. The brunette, Emily, turns back to him with another eye-roll, likely waiting for him to continue.

“You know you shouldn’t be rolling your eyes like that with a concussion”

Emily raises an eyebrow as her friend huffs out a quick laugh. Normally he wouldn’t be so blunt with a patient but he was really starting to feel that 12th hour.

“My apologies Dr…” she spoke, squinting her eyes to attempt to read his coat. His lip twitches to a smirk, pulling the fold in his coat taunt so she can read the blue script. “Hotchner”.

Her voice is low and dry and she pronounces the “T” in his name sharper than he’s heard before. He continues on.

”You’ll receive a prescription for some pain medication, I recommend ice and rest. Have any of your concussion symptoms worsened in the past hour?”

“Other than the fact that these lights make me feel like I’m being interrogated by God himself? No.” She emphasizes her point by squinting up at the lights and he chuckles.

“The symptoms will likely last for 24 hours. Do you have someone to monitor you and drive you home?”

The woman in the chair perks up at this, chiming in “Yes, Doctor, I can take her home and keep an eye on her”. Emily protests at this, whining “Jayje…” until the blonde gives her a look that would shut even him up. He nods, satisfied. The blonde woman seemed like she was capable of handling the brunette and Aaron didn’t feel like worrying himself over her.

“You’ll need to drink lots of water, try not to sleep for a long period of time, and if you’re nauseous for more than 2 days you come right back here” he continued on the usual concussion spiel.

“Trust me Doctor, this is not my first rodeo” she laughs to herself. He raises an eyebrow and she pulls out a badge from her hip. It drops down and the bold “FBI” letters next to her name make him nod.

“Perks of the job” the blonde woman says, and he notices a matching badge and a holster on her hip.

“Well then you don’t need to hear me lecture you. You’re free to go Ms. Prentiss, you can check out with the women at the front desk.” He packs up his charts and goes to leave. He gets thank you’s from both women, and as he closes the curtain behind him, he can’t help but hear the same low, dry voice once more.

“If I knew the doctors here looked like that I might get concussed more often”

He smirks to himself, signing his name at the bottom of her papers and dropping them at the front desk. As he’s rushing out of the locker rooms, he smiles as the image in his mind of the brunette woman fades into the picture of the blonde one waiting for him at home.

[atlatus]

Disease

Character: Xiao

Pronouns: They/them

Post type: Angst

The green haired man opens his eyes to an unfamiliar scenery. He was on the ground, trees covering his surroundings, he can't seem to remember how he got here. Pushing himself up with his arms, he stands up, walking towards the crowd of trees.

While walking through the forest, he finally sees light. The adeptus runs towards it, arriving to see unusual contraptions¹ that he has never seen before. He furrows his eyebrows, 'Where am I? What is this place?' Due to his unusual appearance and clothing, a bystander unsurprisingly notices him. "Excuse me sir, are you perhaps lost?" He turns around, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?" They're eyes widen, "Oh, sorry! I haven't introduced myself. My name's (F/N)." They smile.

He looks at them suspiciously, ". . . . My name is Xiao." (F/N)'s eyes widen a bit before smiling, "What a nice name! Won't you come with me? It's a bit cold out tonight." They propose. Though the adeptus is cautious, he nods. They giggle, holding out their hand, "Now, let's get you somewhere warm." 

_

After about 2 weeks with Xiao, you decided to try and convince your parents to get him into to your school. Even though you're quite calm most of the time, you were determined to convince them. Your parents sigh before nodding, beaming with excitement, you rush to the guest room. Knocking on the door frantically, Xiao opens it, clearly agitated. "What do you want?" You smile, "Hey hey! You're going to my school now!" 

He furrows his eyebrows, "I don't see the reason for me to go to school." Pushing the door the close it but you caught it with your foot, "C'mon~, it won't be that bad." You say. He rolls his eyes sighing before nodding. Your heart beats with excitement.

_

Xiao's first day in school has finally arrived, wearing different clothes made him itch a bit. He's isn't used to this type of attire.

Looking up at the school, surprised at the size of it. His face made you giggle a bit, "Alright, let's go." They both walk up to the entrance,  you open the door for him. He narrows his eyes a bit before continuing on through the hallway. Immediately, people started noticing him, some observing his face while others looked more shocked. 

'Hey doesn't that guy look like that character in Genshin?'

'Is he a cosplayer or something?'

'I have to take a picture with him!'

'Oh my god, he looks so cute!' 

The whispering got louder and louder, 'Why is everyone staring at me like that?'  Finally arriving to his classroom, you both enter. The sound of the door opening got the attention of everyone, the teacher looked over at the door, "Ah, you must be the new student! I'm Mr. Johnson, I'll be your teacher this school year!"

Xiao looked uneasy and uncomfortable, you quickly pat him on the back before sending him a reassuring smile, quietly telling him "It'll be alright."

"Now, would you mind introducing yourself?" The green haired man nods a bit before saying, "My name is Xiao, it's a pleasure to meet you." Some people in the classroom start whispering to their friends, "Oh my god, no way is it actually him?" "How did he even get here?" They were beaming with excitement.

"Well, nice to meet you Xiao! Why don't you sit next to your friend there. They sit at the corner seat over there." You smile before guiding him to where you're sitting. The teacher quickly quiets the class down before starting the lesson.

_

Xiao unsurprisingly got popular, many people would crowd around him to either talk to him, ask to hang out, or take pictures. He was quickly overwhelmed with the attention but got used to it after a few days. He started gaining friends fast and wasn't able to be with you anymore. Though you are glad he's happy, you can't brush off the feeling in the pit of your stomach. It feels like thorns poking in your chest and throat. You despised it. Not only did it hurt, but it made you feel like throwing up.

Everyday, you miss his conversations with you. Watching from afar with jealousy evident in your eyes. It's the same cycle everyday, people crowding him when you both arrive to the school. He

doesn't even look at you anymore. You feel like a ghost, no one acknowledging your existence, you're basically just. . . there. 

One day, the urge to throw up made you lurch forward, putting a hand on your lips. You stand up quickly before running to the restroom. Kneeling down in front of the toilet, you throw up the, coughing and gagging. You look in the toilet bowl, eyes suddenly going wide. 'Flowers? What the hell-'  Panic quickly flows through your body, 'What is this? Am I gonna die?'  You reach for your phone in your pocket, searching up 'throwing up flowers'. The first result is something called the Hanahaki Disease. The article states that, "Hanahaki disease is a disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated." Your eyes scan through the article again, 'Unrequited or one-sided love?'  You start to panic again, 'I won't be able to breath if this is untreated?'  Your breathing becomes uneven and shaky, your expression suddenly turns into one that's sad, 'Does this mean Xiao. . . doesn't like me back?. . .'

Looking at the article again, you see 'cures for the disease', "Hanahaki can be cured through surgical removal of the plants' roots, but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient's feelings for and memories of the enamoured. It can also be cured by the reciprocation of the victim's feelings. These feelings cannot be feelings of friendship but must be feelings of genuine love."

'I can get them surgically removed, but, what's the point? I'll lose my feelings for him. I don't want to. I like it when my heart thumps whenever he smiles, or whenever he pouts in embarrassment due to a teasing comment from me. I don't.. I don't want these feelings to end.'

The ongoing thought of you losing your feelings for him made you cringe. '

Is it too late?'

_

Throughout a month, the condition only got worse. Throwing up these petals made you feel sick, it feels like God is planning to take your life right then and there. Xiao doesn't even talk to you anymore, you see him in the house sometimes but he's outside most of the time. The disease affected your mental and physical health, you were noticeably skinny and tired. The bags under your eyes proved it. Your parents have tried to talk to you about it but, you refuse to say anything.

The desire to keep feeling love made you like this. Your grades have dropped and now you lost all your friends, they're all too caught up with Xiao. At this point, you gave up on getting help. This whole situation will end when you die. You plan to talk to Xiao once more before you pass.

_

Two months. . .

It's been two months now. . .

The condition worsened greatly. Flower petals littered your room. You looked sickly, almost like a dead body. Well, that's what you're going to be in a couple days. . .

Using all your strength, you lift yourself up. "Need. . to go. . talk to. . Xiao." Right now, Xiao was with his friends. Luckily, you slipped a note in his locker the day before-

Meet me on top of hill tomorrow at 5:30 p.m.

- Sincerely, (F/N)

You had followed him when he opened his locker, he shrugged before stuffing the note into his backpack. You hoped that he would listen to it. If he doesn't show up today, you'll die happily knowing he is happy without you. His happiness is more important than your feelings or life.

You arrived at the hill. Looking at your watch, '5:15. Guess I'm early.'  You sit down on top of it, looking at the sun slowly setting.  

After a few minutes, you hear footsteps. Turning around, you see Xiao, his face neutral and calm. He then sat beside you, "So, what did you need?" He asks. You look back at the sun before smiling, "Have you enjoyed your time here?" Though your throat is aching, you still managed to say something.

He seems confused, "Of course I have. I've never been this

happy. ." Knowing he's happy made you feel relieved. To think that you found him in front of a forest, confused and cautious. It almost made you tear up.

"I'm happy that you are, Xiao."

You both stay silent, "Xiao, before I go, whatever happens after, promise me you'll be happy. I can't stand seeing you with a frown." You say with a raspy voice.

". . .Of course." 

 _

You find yourself laying on a hospital bed. You try to move but your body is too sore. Your ears perked up to muffled talking, "I'm sorry sir, ma'am but the kid is going to be gone soon. The Hanahaki disease already clogged up most of the patients lungs. We can either surgically remove it or-" The doctor was quickly cut off, "Surgically remove it! Please save them! Just remove the damn flowers, please!" You heard your mom scream.

"Ma'am, we have to get the patients consent. Removing the flowers will cause the patients enamored feelings for their-" The doctor was cut off once again, "I don't care anymore! Just please, save my kid!"

The argument was ongoing before you stored up all your strength and spoke, "M-mom. . . I don't want my. . . feelings to go. . . away." Your voice was barely audible, but they heard it. Your mom rushes over to your bed (despite the doctors warnings), "(F/N)! Don't be like that! Your life is more important!"

Tears start welling up your mom's eyes, "Please don't leave us. . ."

You stare at her before smiling, "It's okay mom, besides-" You cough, "It's already. . . too late." Despair was evident in your mothers face.

"Oh and. . . before I go. . . tell Xiao to stay happy. . . and that I love him."

The lights started to go dim, eyes slowly closing before your slow breathing stopped-

Permanently. 

_

Your funeral was held at a nearby cemetery. Your coffin was the color brown, a glass covering the top of it so they could see you. Xiao was there, staring at your face.  When he got the news that you died, his world fell apart. He thought this was just some sick joke, but the body in the coffin proved him wrong. He could faintly see flower petals near your mouth.

Your funeral and seeing your body is what made Xiao cry and scream out in agony and sadness. "No No NO! (F/N) don't leave me!! Please tell me this is a joke please! (F/N)! I love you please don't leave!"

He prayed and prayed that you would wake up. . .

But his prayers weren't heard.

_

One week after your funeral, Xiao's whole demeanor changed. He was a calm boy who would speak only when spoken to. But now, he doesn't speak. He ignores all his friends, he ignores your parents, he ignores everyone. He stays cooped up in your room. Sleeping on your bed and smelling your scent that lingers on it. Oh how he misses talking to you, your bright smile was what made him feel alive.

He was laying on your bed one day (as usual) and for some reason, he felt a bit sick. He brushed it off thinking it would go away in a few hours. But it only got worse.

He rushes to the bathroom then looks at the mirror. He looks terrible, bags under his eyes and skin looking a bit pale. He suddenly lurches forward, coughing and gagging.

He looks down and laughs a bit. Petals, beautiful petals covered in blood.

Looks like he's going to suffer with this disease as well. . .

Unusual contraptions¹ - cars

[downywrites]

 I did my best for this one. I hope I did this well!

Link for ask here

Ranboo was annoyed. That he knew for sure, pacing the outsides of Smajor’s office. He muttered as he walked, trying not to forget why exactly he was pissed. His tails swished, dusting the red carpet below him. He huffed lightly. “When is Scott going to let me in? This is getting stupid!” A small growl escaped him as he glanced at the locked door sitting innocently in front of him. “Just come out of there, Scott. I really, really need to talk to you…” Using one of his haunches, he banged on the door again. ‘This is the third time I’ve done this! When is he going to let me in?’ The sound of the latch unlocking made him sight in relief. “Ah, there he is-” A loud bang went off, making the enderman jump. 

“HELLO! IT IS I, SMAJOR!...where are you?” The man glanced around dramatically, eyes alight with pep and overzealous energy for just about no reason. He let go of the doorknob, wincing a little at the sight of the dent that was steadily worsening. Ranboo was not impressed. He deadpanned at the other, tails flat on the floor and unmoving. “...Seriously? Couldn’t you be a little more serious here?” He showed the littlest part of his teeth, trying to intimidate the shorter of the two of them. Unfortunately, the gesture bounced right off of him, the rather bombastic man walking towards him and pulling him eagerly into his office. “Come in, come in! It’s been so long since someone wanted to come into my room- I mean, office. Take a seat!” With a snap of his fingers, a chair pulled itself out of the wall, situating itself onto the floor. Ranboo’s bicolored eyebrows raised in surprise, but he spoke not. He didn’t want to show him the interest he had. No, he wanted to persuade the MCC moderator into letting him into the place.

 While he babbled on about dinglehoppers and fascinating doodads he had seen on the road while walking last month, he took the time to look around his office. The area was large, as expected of someone who owned so much and had so much power. The whole room screamed smajor, from the loud patterns and decor everywhere, to the carpets below his paws. Itr was obvious that his interior designer told him to do the exact opposite. He shut his eyes, suppressing the urge to wince at the loud textures inverting behind his eyelids. ‘Ow.’ 

He turned his ears to hear the man again, growling under his breath when he realized he still hasn’t stopped speaking. “...and picture this! Your husband, Ranboo, forgot to touch the lever afterwards!” He hooted with laughter, swiveling around in his chair. “Ohoho, it was hilarious!” Ranboo cleared his throat loudly. “Scott? Could we, uh, talk? Please?” Ranboo was on his last nerves at this point. He had been trying to contact him for ages, and this is the first thing he subjects the hybrid with? Preposterous. His ears pinned back, trying to signify his annoyance without hurting his feelings.

 “Well, have you considered the offer I sent you by bird? Or the other three offers by horse? Or that one I delivered to your doorstep personally?” The man leaned forward in his chair, facial expression unreadable. “...hmmm….No, can’t say that I have. Sorry, Oreo man!” Ranboo spluttered indignantly. “What? HOW?” His claws waved about as he angrily gestured at the man, who simply shrugged and giggled to himself. The enderman stopped, taking a breath dramatically. Ears fluttering back and forth in a flurry of emotions, he shut his eyes almost violently. “Okay. As I have asked you several times before, have you at the very least thought of letting me into the MCCs yet? I haven’t done anything to be banned from it, so am I allowed to come in?” 

He opened one heterochromatic eye, hope barely visible in the depths of his pupils. Smajor covered his face with his hand. “Oh, dear. Hmmm….” He acted as if he was genuinely thinking about saying yes, stroking his chin. A small pool of magic shut an open window he wasn’t aware of. “....nah.” Ranboo hissed quietly. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m getting the gun.” The man, almost unbothered, adjusted his tie and cleared his throat softly. “Ah. You know, guns are not allowed in my office.” “Who said it was a physical gun?” Seconds of pure confusion passed. “...what?” Ranboo’s chair pushed back slowly, a look of half-concealed malice (?) evident in his dual colored eyes. Smajor was tempted to get out of his seat, but he thought otherwise. ‘He’s just annoyed because I’m teasing him like this. It’s fine, he’s not going to kill me.’ The enderman slowly walked past the desk, his tails whipping forward in a dangerous gesture. 

The moderator found himself in a steadily worsening situation.

 He held his hands up in a universal placating gesture, hoping that it would calm him down. “Look, we can set up a compromise if you just take a seat. I can give you keys to the best seats in town?” A single elongated fang poked out as he snarled. “I’m going to take that as a no.” With a swift movement, the man found himself on the floor, pissed hybrid pinning his arms down. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that, you know. I was thinking of being nice to you, but now...now, I don’t think so.” One of Ranboo’s hands trailed up to his neck. ‘Is he going to choke me? That’s not very gentlemanly of him.’ His subconscious helpfully supplied. “However, hurting you would be really, really mean. And Tubbo said that this would be a much better option!” ‘Wait, Tubbo?’ A fluttering feeling at his neck made him scrunch up and giggle. “Wahahait!” He shut his eyes, unwilling to look at the person who was definitely smirking in triumph above him. The feeling shifted to his collarbones, then to his ears. Each spot got the same amount of attention, which was, in his opinion, too much.

 “Look, Scott. All you need to do is tell me that you’ll allow me into MCC. That’s all. Just promise me I’ll be let in next time.” He sassed the enderman in return, a forced smile coloring his words. “Iihihi cohohuld ahalso tehehell yohohou thahahat your clothihihing chohohoice reheheminds me of a bohohoy who didn’t know what to wear to prom and came in a full suit during a casual dance.” His hands slowed down as he spoke, before speeding up even quicker, forcing a bout of laughter to escape from Smajor. His dyed hair flipped from side to side as he shook his head, cracked his eyes open to look at the other pleadingly. The enderman processed the movement in his head, smirking a little more again. “Is this flustering you, Scott? You’re so used to being in power. Is this something new for you?” His breath ghosted on his ear, making him shiver through his frantic giggles. 

“Nohoho, I tohohotally dohoho shihihit lihihihike this ohohon ahaha dahahaily bahahasis!” Ranboo clicked his tongue teasingly. “That sounds like sarcasm to me. So, tell me, Scott. Do you know where you are ticklish?” At the sound of the word, his body bucked up into his hands, falling down moments later and prompting a small laughter-filled “oof”. The enderman couldn’t help but aww at him. “Can you not handle the word ‘tickle’?” Another fully body jerk. Scott’s arms pushed against his pinning arm in protest. “Stohohop, yohohou drehehessed-uhuhuhp ohohohreo!” Ranboo recoiled in mock offense. Tails lashing, he looked at him balefully, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Oh, now you’re just provoking me.” He jabbed into the man’s sides, flipping his ears down to avoid the resulting shriek he got from blasting his damn eardrums out. “Guessing sides are a good spot, noted.” A small enderwarble escaped his mouth in slight sympathy at the person writhing under him, but he stood firm, scratching lightly at his lower belly.

 “You know what you have to say, don’t you? Come on, Scott. It’s not hard, just let me in.” Through his laughter, Smajor flipped him off. “FuhUHuck yohohOohoU!” He immediately regretted his decision, bucking wildly as dulled-down claws scraped over his sides again. And again, and again. He couldn’t help the high-pitched squeal that ripped out of his throat as Ranboo shifted just the slightest bit downwards to the connection between his sides and his back. A few shelves to the side of the man fell, magic sputtering out of control. Ranboo curled his tails over his head, wincing as he plucked out a feathery plume from one of them. He traced one over his neck to tease, teeth poking out of his mischievous smile as the other curled up almost violently as he thrashed. He stopped for a moment, allowing the other to calm down and take a few grounding breaths. He put down the feather for now. He’d save that for later, if he needed it. “So.” Ranboo vwooped quietly. “Have you considered my proposal yet?” Scott pushed the bookshelves partially back up. Eyes focused on the furniture behind the enderman, he shook his head, tongue sticking out in concentration. “Not in the slightest.”

 The hybrid rushed to push up his shirt. “B-but!” His hand slowed where it was. “I can accept something else. If you are willing to follow my rules.”

 Ranboo nodded, ears fully perked up and focused. Little particles landed on Scott’s bare lower stomach, making him giggle as he spoke. “Wehell, if you and Tubbo would agree to not be on the same team, nor be on the same team as anyone else you’d have a relative behenefit with, I may allow it. Mahahay.” Ranboo’s tails wagged from side to side, black, white, red, and green blurring into a mix of color behind him. “Maybe?” His eyes gleamed with hope. “May…..these nuts get shoved down your throat! HA!” 

Ranboo’s facial features seemed to darken. 

“Hehe…?” His hand ducked under his shirt, pushing it up fully. Smajor gulped audibly, sucking in his exposed stomach. A pen wiggled in a cloud of his magic, almost nervously. Ranboo kept that in mind, hoping that he’d remember it afterwards. ‘Does his magic respond to his emotions? I’d like to know that...once I’m not trying to make him listen to me.’ With his tummy exposed, the enderman leaned down, breath gentle on the flat of his stomach. “Are you going to say yes now? Or am I going to have to go fully in now?” Scott stayed quiet, barely moving for a moment. A blossom of panic bloomed in Ranboo’s chest. ‘Is he okay? Did I do something?’ A small, almost sheepish smile grew on the other’s face. “Sorry, I was thinking of something snarky. Don’t got anything right now. And, hmm..still thinking about that.” The whites of his teeth broke out through the light pinks of his lips. “The answer’s still no, enderboy. Try your damndest.” 

He was quick to give him what he wished, diving in to blow one long raspberry on his tummy. It was evident the moderator was not aware of how sensitive he was to raspberries, based on the gasping burst of laughter he got in response. A swear in a different language as he moved closer to his sides, pepperring little raspberries and nibbles all over his trembling muscles.  The sudden change in tenseness as he swiped over a specific spot on his lower belly, his body melting into the floor. Ranboo found it adorable that the sassy man was completely destroyed by a few wiggling fingers on his stomach. He didn’t say it out loud though, for the sake of the moderator’s pride. The laughter settled nicely in his ears. He could get used to this. “AHAHA! RANAHAHA- PLEHEASE!” 

On the other hand, Scott could not get used to this. He definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up for much longer. His laughter strained at his throat a little. He tapped at the enderman with a plume of magic, hoping he’d get the hint. After what felt like a century of tickling for the man below him, Ranboo slowed his nibbling and raspberry blowing, gazing into his dazed eyes. “Yes, Smajor?” “Fihihihine, yahoo’ll behehe uhuhuhnbanned. Lehehet mehehe gohoho!” Ranboo’s tails wagged hesitantly, worried he was just bluffing or making a joke. “Promise?” “Ihihi prohohomise. Juhuhust, nohoho mohohore.”

 His voice was wheezy, almost like an unused flute that hadn’t been taken care of much. Ranboo couldn’t really tamp down the innate sense of pride with the knowledge that he was the one who did that. He was the one who managed to convince Scott, not Tubbo, not Tommy. Him. He did. His tails thumped on the floor loudly, but he was too busy celebrating his win in the confines of his head. Particles whizzed around him faster and faster, landing on things every which way. That included Scott, unfortunately for him.

 He giggled, writhing around as much as he could as the particles slowly landed on his tummy. “Hehehey, ehehenderbohohy? Lehehet mehehe gohoho, plehehease?” No reaction, his eyes far away. His face was contorted into a small smile, but otherwise, his countenance was blank like an empty slate. In other worse, he had literally no clue what was going on. A slight twinge of concern, then. “Uuhuhh, Rahahanbohohoo? Ahahare yohou ehenderwahalking?” Silence. Nothing, absolutely no  response. Scott decided to take things into his own hands. 

“Rahahnbohoo!” 

The pen from earlier slammed into his face, making a small smacking noise as it did so. Ranboo gasped, eyes snapping back into focus at the slight stinging sensation. His bi-colored eyes focused onto him. “What was that for?” Smajor rolled his eyes, using his head and his hands to show the situation he was in. “Did you just forget you have me pinned or what? Dude, you and your brute strength. Goddamn.” His eyes widened in surprise and slight embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” His hands were released almost immediately, claws gently scraping against his wrists and making him crack a small wobbly smile. “There you go.”

 He sat up with a small wince, small cloud of magic pushing him a slight bit. Getting up shakily, he slowly walked over to his desk, trying not to trip on any errant pieces of carpet/items strewn about. “I’ll get it done, okay? You just shimmy your way home, oreo. I’ll get it done.” A sigh of relief escaped the hybrid. “Oh, thank god.” As he left the office, he turned to look at the man directly in the eyes. He was getting better at that. “Thanks, sir. I appreciate it.” And, as he left, he may or may not have heard a small mutter follow him. “Fucking hell. He does not need to call me sir after THAT.” He couldn’t help but grin a little. ‘Well, I got him to be serious.’

‘That’s a win for me.’ 

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Silver Lining [Chapter Two] Revelation [Eustass Kid]

“Are you going to be OK?” A concerned voice asked.

Coran grunted as she turned on her cot towards the voice. Her painted lips lifted into a grin; the cabin boy somehow managed to survive.

“I thought you’d never make it,” she mentioned. “Peg me surprised.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Thanks, I guess. But listen, you need to see a doctor; your skin is pale.”

Coran had no doubt. She hummed and removed her hand from the wound on her side; her pale skin was stained in red.

“I’m losing too much blood.”

Her ability wasn’t activating; there was no way to keep herself from bleeding out. Since Coran was taken to a new home in the underbelly of the ship, her condition worsened. She heard ringing in her ears; wave after wave of nausea coursed over her. It was a terrible feeling. Coran laid back on the cot and shut her eyes. She was tired.

“Just a few hours,” she uttered.

The cabin boy paled.

“Hey … don’t close your eyes.”

Before she passed out, Coran heard him screaming for someone to save her.

The hum of a machine brought Coran to an alert state. She opened her tired eyes and took a look around in confusion. She wasn’t in a cell anymore, but in a stark white room on a warm bed. Perhaps it was an infirmary; it smelled cleaner than the underbelly of the ship. The noise that stirred her came from an infuser next to her bed; a tube attached to her arm via a needle gave her warm blood from a bag marked F. Someone saved her life. Coran hummed, feeling much better. Her side hurt like hell, but she wasn’t nauseous anymore.

Easing up her shirt, she saw the stitches and snorted. There was going to be a scar there once they came out.

Her ears picked up a sudden noise; the scuff of a shoe, and she was sure someone was in the room with her, albeit they were to her back.  

“She lives,” a voice laughed.

Coran hummed.

“I’m breathing anyway.”

The voice laughed again as the body it came from walked into her sight; a man wearing a white PVC lab coat checked the machine. He averted his eyes to her and hummed.

“You are lucky to be breathing,” the doctor mentioned.

She could not agree more.

“If not for that loud mouth cabin boy screaming for aide, Wire might not have cared to bring you to me. That is Killer’s doing; the wound on your side. How you managed to survive is beyond me,” he explained.

Coran groaned. She owed the cabin boy one for saving her and the doctor. Honor was a trait she valued, but now was not the time to own up.

“I must be fortunate.”

The doctor snorted.

“There is no such thing aboard this ship,” he mentioned.

Out of one nightmare and into the next. Coran was cursed.

“Was there much blood?” She asked.

He nodded, then puckered a brow.

“But I assume whatever strange power that fruit you ate gave you managed to keep you from bleeding out.”

The doctor sounded unsure of himself. Coran puckered a brow.

“And you know I ate one how?” She asked.

He pointed to his ears and Coran grinned.

“Those are genetic, but the fruit I ate stopped the bleeding for a bit.”

The doctor hummed. He had never seen a being with pointed ears before; it was fascinating. Too bad he couldn’t dissect her. Averting his eyes to the cuffs on her wrists, the doctor opted not to ask about them. There were scratch marks around and beneath the metal. Perhaps she tried to remove them or the metal was too tight.

“It’s for the best that you rest for a bit and let the transfusion finish,” the doctor mentioned. “I need to leave for a few minutes and inform Mister Kid that you recovered.”

Coran hummed and leaned back her head. Where was she going to go? Even if she escaped, she couldn’t swim or navigate a boat, so there wasn’t much she could do but rest. She watched the doctor leave the room, then shut her eyes. A groan poured from her lips. She was in so much pain.

For hours Coran rested. She woke on her own, hearing voices outside the door to the infirmary. Her ears perked up listening to their hushed conversation in curiosity.

“Look … all I’m saying is she’s a race I’ve never seen of before. It might do us some good to cut her open and see what’s inside,” a voice suggested.

It was the doctor.

Coran narrowed her eyes. How sweet of him.

“Kid wants to speak with her first,” another voice claimed.

Killer? Wasn’t that his name?

“If he doesn’t want her, you can cut her open,” Killer added.

The doctor made a noise of glee, and the door came open. Coran watched them come in and puckered a brow; her ears twitched.

“I thought we were best friends, Doc. It pains me that you want to tear me apart,” she uttered.

The doctor grinned.

“You heard us? Fantastic!”

Killer hummed.

“Then I have no reason to repeat myself. Come on.”

The needle was missing from her arm, so Coran eased from the cot and stood beside the Doctor.

“See you soon,” she uttered.

“I sure hope so,” the said man replied as he watched her follow Killer from the infirmary.

It was dark out as Coran trekked out onto the deck of the enemy ship. She wasn’t in the mood to start up a conversation with Killer, so she stared up at the waxing moon as they passed the crew. Besides, the said man didn’t seem like the type to enjoy conversations or people for that matter. Coran averted her eyes and peeked around Killer as he led her to a door, knocking on it. She heard a strange noise from within, like the cracking of a spot weld, then a deep voice called them in.

Coran took a look around. The captain of the ship sat at a workbench tampering with something, but her interest was on the room she was taken to. It appeared to be a workshop with weapons made of metal and uncompleted projects scattered about. The scent of oil and welding fumes permeated her nostrils, making her pucker her nose. Was the captain an inventor?

“Sit down,” the pirate ordered, pointing his thumb towards a stool at the workbench near him.

Coran hummed and looked to Killer, unsure if he meant for her to sit, or for him. When the said man didn’t move, she narrowed her eyes and walked over to the stool, sitting down. Her weapon was on the table in front of the captain; spot welds covered the holes in the handle near the blades. Coran puckered a brow. Was he repairing it?

“Who forged this?” he asked.

Coran rested her arms on the table.

“A blacksmith in my homestead,” she answered back.

She had no intention to tell him more regarding it. Kid narrowed his eyes at her.

“You have a shit way of taking care of something someone put their time into making.”

Was he seriously mad about the shape of her weapon? Coran curled up her nose in annoyance.

“It’s not like I have the time to fix it or the skill.”

“That’s for sure,” Kid agreed with a grunt.

He saw her ears twitch, recalling something Doc Mercy said about her.

“What in the hell are you?”

Coran hummed. What did he mean?

“I don’t––”

Kid pulled on her ear, grinning as she hissed in pain and retreated from him.

“The ears, woman. No person I’ve ever met looks like you.”

She scowled at him, though he was right.

“My people referred to our kind as Wights, though to them all species are known as such; it describes a being of any kind with some living quality. But those who saw us often associated us with Elves from the fairy tale books,” Coran explained.

Kid grinned. The world had much to offer.

“Are you the last?” Killer asked.

Coran almost forgot that he was in the room, looking at the masked man over her shoulder. He was quite the clever one, having read between the lines of her story.

“As far as I know,” she answered back. “I was the one who slaughtered them, after all.”

Kid puckered a brow. So, Killer was right; carnage did not phase her, but something in her tone when commenting about her people contradicted that assessment. Perhaps it was not her intention to kill them.

Groaning, the said man pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure about having her on the same ship as his men. The pointed eared woman was a hazard, and her Devil Fruit as noted by Killer was not one to take for granted in terms of speed. Who knew he’d find someone like her.

“Take her back to her cell,” Kid ordered.

Coran didn’t put up a fight. She stood up and followed Killer from the room, leaving Kid to his devices.

The said man was a bit heated. Kid wasn’t sure what to do with her given the information he learned; kill her or make her one of the crew. He knew what he needed to do, but did he want to give up such an important asset.

He was more annoyed than ever.

[kidney9-9]

November Bet

@hollandlover19​ asked: 

Can you write something where peter is dating the reader and she’s an avenger with similar powers to Wanda meaning she can read his mind and for the past two weeks peter has been horny as fuck and it’s driving him nuts cus he made a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest during no nut November so he’s trying to resist the urge to jack off but the only thing that will calm him down is y/n but she had to go on an emergency mission and won’t be back till later so he just lays in his room crying cuz everything hurts sorry if this is too specific you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 🖤

Hey there hun! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in. Just a note: I have no idea how boners feel after a certain amount of time, but I’m assuming it’s really painful since it’s a muscle straining itself?? (i think lmao) But this was interesting to write since I usually put more humor in my writing, and this one turned out sort of sad! Everyone is over the legal age in this piece.

Masterlist is linked in my bio, tags in reblog.

Peter Parker x Reader [Angst with sort of happy ending] Warnings: boner, pain and swearing Word Count: 1.6k

Peter regretted the bet so much now. 

It happened back on the 31st of October, when everyone was resting about, eating junk food and candy. Sam and Bucky had been teasing Peter for almost two weeks now after catching you and Peter getting a bit steamy in one of the weaponry rooms, and he wanted pay back. Peter thought he could control himself for a month because obviously he was able to do it before he reached puberty, so it should be fine! But fuck, did he regret it now, making a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest following the No Nut November challenge.

Day one was normal, he had so much confidence. He only let himself kiss your cheek though, and glance over to you when you would dress during the morning.

But now, two weeks in, he couldn’t fucking handle it. You were too hot. Tonight, was a gala event for Pepper and Tony starting a charity for children with heart problems which would start funding research into heart disease, and funding families who couldn’t afford treatments. You were wrapped in a silky flowing dress that Peter wanted to drool over. The small peaks he’d see over you twirling around, dancing to the classical music, and the fabric would outline your ass perfectly. Fuck, it was too much for him.

He had too many thoughts about it though. He wanted to reach out and squeeze you, spank you, trace every part of your body with his tongue. He wanted to devour you tonight; he wanted to fuck you out of your mind only to bring you back to another orgasm after the last.

Yes, the boner was showing very much.

It didn’t help when you’d look over to him worriedly, and he knew you could hear every single thought of his. It was your power, but you called it a curse. You spoke to him a few days before about how you heard his pleas to make love to you once again, but you reminded him of the bet and what he would have to do if he lost.

The loser had to streak and run across the outdoor gardens of the Compound at any time the winner felt like it; only once though. Peter thought about losing constantly, wishing he could lose, but he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t let Bucky and Sam win like that, after them teasing him for so long. It would be humiliating, sure, Peter didn’t care much about that. But he cared about it humiliating you as well, he didn’t want them to tease you about it too.

“Baby, want to leave?” You mumbled to Peter, causing him to flinch out of his trance. Peter gazed down at your body for a moment, and cleared his throat, flushing immensely while he looked away. Your curves… he was so in love with everything about you.

“Mm, yeah sorry about this.” Peter signaled down to his boner and he could just imagine how some people had already saw it and started speaking about him, but he just needed to leave. You nodded sympathetically back to him, reaching out and grasping his shoulder to comfort him.

He shrugged your hand off after a shiver went through his body, breathing heavily as another wave of lust flushed through him, “I’m sorry. I- I don’t mean to, it’s just…” He trailed off, glancing back up to your face and seeing you nodding understandably back to him.

“I know, I hear it too. Text Tony and Pepper in an hour and tell them something came up. They’ll be okay with it.” You responded, almost wanting to stay behind to talk with the two more. They were one of the funniest but loveliest couples you met.  You felt close to them, almost as if they had a parental authority over you.

“I will, thank you.” Peter whispered back, gulping nervously as he tried to adjust his forming hard on. He just needed to go take a cold shower as soon as possible, and he already started thinking of strange things.

Deformed candles. Cheetos in beans on someone’s head. Evil cartoon characters. A dictionary with misspelled words.

You giggled, shaking your head at the things he comes up with in his thinking. You walked out of the ballroom with him, distancing yourself and opting to take an uber home instead, so he didn’t feel trapped. You worried about him during this month, realizing how bad it would feel to not nut for a guy.

You wished you could help him, but he wanted to keep the bet going.

When you got back to the Compound, your alarm instantly went off and your eyes widened, realizing you had to leave now. It was an emergency mission, you quickly read through the report, seeing that one of your contacts was revealed and gave up some information that needed to stay private. You rushed as fast as you can, barely sending a text to Peter who just got back to the Compound, saying you needed to leave.

Peter finally opened the text when he fell back on his bed, still struggling. He groaned, feeling his boner build up again, just imagining you out in the field, looking so sweaty and ready for anything. “Fuck…” He whimpered, quickly sitting up. He was worried for you being out there by yourself, but he knew he shouldn’t doubt your abilities. At the same time, he was trying to stop his feelings, because it just furthered his pain.

He cupped his boner, stumbling up and thinking to himself, how long has it been now? He couldn’t help it, thinking about sex. Fuck, it was crazy he wanted to just touch you again, how much he missed touching you was driving him insane. He couldn’t masturbate, he would lose the bet.

The winner also had the benefit of getting the title, “Greatest Person of the Year”, which included perks of people not teasing him and you, and many more. It would be great to have Bucky and Sam off your backs.

He set his phone down while he turned the shower on cold, needing to get in there as soon as possible. Maybe it would work now, but he couldn’t tell if it was too late to help. He still needed you by his side. Whether it was sexual or not, he loved you and needed to be by you.

“Ouch – oh shit.” He whined, coughing as the cold water hit his bare back. He stripped himself as quick as possible, now realizing he kept his socks on. He criticized himself, why’d you leave your socks on? Why are you doing this now?

The shower didn’t help at all. Once his body got used to the temperature, he got flashes of visions of you, from missing you. He groaned out of anger at himself for doing it, and he had to stop himself from palming his boner.

He got out of the shower, rushing to his phone and dialing your mission phone, that was connected to the earpiece you wore. When it connected, he could hear you grunting as you punched one of the people that attacked you.

“P-Peter? What’s up?” You stuttered, breathing heavily as you ran down to the other room, trying to get away for a few seconds to just get your mind together to focus.

“Oh shit- I’m sorry!” Peter rambled, forgetting you were busy. He hit his head and groaned to himself, hearing you on the other side of the phone.

Stop thinking like that idiot! He reminded himself, and you responded to him after a moment of shuffling around in the corner. “It’s okay! Is everything good? You alright, babe?” You whispered, glancing around and picking up one of the objects in the room with one of your powers, focusing it by the doorway to protect yourself.

“Yeah…uh, I’ll get you go. Please be safe. I love you.” Peter sighed out, scratching his hair as he sat by the edge of the bed, hoping you were okay.

You quickly responded to him, “Love you. I’ll be back in a few hours I think, maybe 12 hours tops?” You randomly guessed the time, knowing there was a lot to do. You hung up when you heard someone’s footsteps.

Peter gazed down at his boner, now fully erect and he frowned. The blood hurt so much in his cock; he couldn’t do anything though. He laid back on the bed, his head on his pillow, still naked, knowing any clothing would hurt to put on.

He tried to focus his thinking on something else again, anything. It barely helped, and he ended up squeezing his eyes shut as the pain rumbled through his body, the soreness was too much. He felt a few tears form and start to leak down his face, and he had to remind himself everything would be okay soon.

He rolled over, doing breathing techniques, trying to calm down. The tears wouldn’t stop coming though and he bit his lip, holding back his cries. It must have been ten or twenty minutes later when he pushed the pillow over his head, now having a headache from crying and the pain.

He held the pillow close, trying to block any light from the devices in the room, crying himself to sleep as the pain worsened.

When you got back, you quickly paced over to the room, needing to check Peter. You could tell he was struggling when he spoke to you and you pouted when you opened the door, seeing him laying on the bed. It was upsetting to see him with dried tear stains on the pillows, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

His boner was gone now, but you could tell he was probably in pain still. You laid down next to him, holding his arm softly, just hoping this dumb bet would be over soon so he wouldn’t struggle like that again.

[whitherliliesbloom]

lights, camera, duty commenced!

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #14 - commend ]

[ illya, g’raha & emet ] ★ [ 2,263 words ]  ★ [ actors au ]  passing mention of some friend’s ocs and illyanaud

commend: praise formally or officially

behind the scenes of the critically acclaimed long running tv show, final fantasy fourteen, g’raha tia is (almost) inconsolable after he reads the final act’s script

The not-so everlasting light shining down feels radiant and warm, but not scorching. In the distance, one can hear the push and pull of the tides from the nearby lake, as well as the rustling of the purple hued leaves that hung and swayed ever so gently upon the trees. A light baby blue canvas with dusty cotton candy clouds crowns lakeland, painting the perfect, serene vista for an uneventful day of shooting.

Though, Illya has to remind herself, as she looks up at the peaceful sky, and sighs in contentment that she was in the completely wrong headspace. Even though the sky above was bright and undoubtedly beautiful on this fine afternoon, she knows that all it takes is for a little bit of compuer-generated television effects magic to turn the tranquil landscape into a scene of naught but utter devastation and war.

Think termination. Think termination. You’re in the middle of a large-scale battle between Elidibus and the people of Norvrandt. The tone’s supposed to be somber and tense. You’re the warrior of darkness. You got this!

“Oh.... How could this be...?”

Her train of thought is rudely interrupted by the sorrowful moping of her co-actor, and she has to resist the urge to chide him for dragging his early morning sulking all the way into the afternoon. 

“G’raha, please...” the lalafellin sighs, though cannot help but to let a sliver of sympathy slip into her tone. “The next scene’s starting soon.”

“I know, I know... But...” the man heaves a heavy sigh, hanging his head low and letting his arms drop onto his lap so dramatically she’d almost thought that his flesh really was made of crystal and wasn’t just a product of the hard work of extremely talented make-up artists. “I can’t help it. I can’t believe that my poor crystal exarch is-”

Illya can say she at least empathizes - though perhaps not to the same extent. She’s been casted into roles of characters who would meet an unfortunate demise later, but to be fair, they weren’t often major characters within the narrative of the show or film she was playing a role in. 

The crystal exarch on the other hand, has played a key role as one of the many recurring supporting casts in the show. He’d lingered in the background as early as the first season, and was, to G’raha’s jubilation, finally given a main role in the fourth season they were filming. 

Only to be killed off in the final act - succumbing to the crystallization of his entire body, from head to toe, in the throne room of the crystal tower after the warrior of darkness’ battle with the ascian Elidibus. His death scene was to be an emotionally poignant one... and Illya herself has spent the last few days getting into the headspace of the protagonist - who would understandably be utterly devastated by the loss of a dear friend. 

It didn’t help that the crystal exarch was a considerably popular character within the international community of fans - and his significant increase in screen time was due in part to fan demands... though that perhaps made his long foreshadowed death even more of a cruel irony. 

And there was nobody in the world who was a bigger fan of the crystal exarch than the actor who played him himself. It wasn’t narcissistic either, in their line of work, it’s easy to get attached to the roles they play... even more so when they’ve hovered within the headspace of their character for as long as 6 years - she would know, Liliya Liya is as big a part of her as the crystal exarch is for G’raha now.

Thus, though she felt the urgent need to get G’raha back up on his feet in preparation for the remaining scenes on their schedule to film... she could not bring herself to so callously talk down his very real and personal attachment of a character he was meant to portray well anyways. 

“Oh come now... you should’ve seen this coming.” with a swagger in his step and lazy grin plastered over his expression, Emet Selch strolls over to the pair.... far too comfortable within his own role that he was speaking with Hades’ signature slur in his speech even while out of character. The man has always noted just how similar he was to the god of the underworld, and Illya wouldn’t be surprised if he’d claimed to not even be acting in his scenes at all.

“I...” G’raha pouts, looking up at Emet as his ears flatten atop his head. “I guess I was in denial of it. I thought they would maybe subvert expectations... but-”

“But that wouldn’t be a very compelling story to tell, now would it?” The older man shrugs, and Illya regrets to think that she’s inclined to agree. 

“I guess not..” 

The robed miqo’te man sighs, and she notes with an amused raise of an eyebrow as his tail that had once been tucked tightly to his side was now swiveling from side to side and puffed up in annoyance.

“Still! They could at least let him go out with more of a bang! Maybe... after he has a solo action scene... or give him a kiss scene to make things more dramatic!”

“Is defeating the big bad and saving the heroine not dramatic enough for you, already?” Emet’s voice is in part mocking as it is exasperated, his arms thrown up to his shoulders in a shrug. “Also I hope you didn’t mean a kiss scene with Liliya.”

“W-what-?? I-” Illya’s mouth hangs agape. 

“No! I wasn’t thinking anyone in particular, honest. Besides, she’s already caught in that love triangle subplot with the twins, isn’t she?” 

At the mention of the topic, the lalafellin woman’s smile fades.

“D-don’t remind me of that. I’m really not looking forward to acting those scenes out.” 

She’s already read the script for the fourth season in it’s entirety... and though she has incredible respect for the masterful writing and the wonderful character dynamics that has only gotten better with each passing season... she has never been... entirely comfortable with the romantic aspects of the scenes involving the elven twins. Scenes of the pair vying for her attention, scenes where she held hands and even got unsettingly close to kissing them... 

Though, she will admit... her own uncertainty over her competence in filming those scenes are a result of her own, very personal emotions... something of which Emet Selch seemed to be more than aware of.

“Is it not because you harbor actual feelings for one of them? Would having scenes of you being close to him not be a blessing for you, then?”

The miffed glare Illya’s shoots up at Emet rivals moments of shadow possession Liliya experiences throughout the show, and he can only shrug with a cocky grin as her star-spangled swirl with indignation. Anger aside, heat is spreading across her cheeks in the form of a burning red hue that reaches the tips of her short, pointed ears.

Please stop. 

Her expression spells out. She’s as annoyed as she her frightened about something.

Oh dear. 

“Relax. Workplace romance here is nothing new.” His words only serve to worsen the already infuriated gleam in her blazing, shimmering eyes. “Mint certainly isn’t shy when it comes to showing she’s in a relationship with Estinien. Nor your friend Laurelis for that matter. She’s still keeping in touch with Haurchefant, no?”

Illya doesn’t say anything, but her silence and the paling of her complexion speaks louder than any words she can spill from her lips. 

It’s precisely because he doesn’t know. So please, please shut your mouth.

He still cannot understand why on earth she would stay so adamant about keeping her feelings a secret anyway. For all he knows, the entire cast of actors... and the whole final fantasy crew for that matter, was fully aware of their pining - and Illya’s feelings towards her close co-worker and friend wasn’t unrequited either. 

Just like in the show, the pair are completely oblivious to their attraction to one another... something he’ll just have to fix with his bare hands then... 

But the matter is neither here nor there, and there was something of greater urgency to rectify now. 

Emet Selch turns his gaze back down to G’raha, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet... and sensing his seriousness, Illya too diverts her attention back to the sulking redhead. 

“You know... you’re a very talented actor. It’s so very rare to find someone who can capture the emotions and nuances of a character as well as you do.” Emet is the faster of them to speak, and Illya can barely believe the words she’s hearing leave his lips. 

Compliments and praise, genuine ones at that, coming from one of the cast’s eldest, most experienced actor who is not only known to be critical when it comes to the art of acting - but is a certified acting coach himself? The monumental honor is not lost to G’raha, as his ears perk up and he whips his head up with widened ruby eyes to look at Emet.

“Death is difficult to portray - dare I say, almost impossible. After all, how can we, who have never experienced death... truly capture the sorrow and despair in it?”

Emet Selch pauses, drawing in a breath before he lifts his hand up to gesture at the pair before him.

“Which is why this is your biggest opportunity to showcase your talents, to move the audience with not just the story, but your very acting! The only thing we can do, as men and women of this field, is to act as vehicles and carry the emotions of the story into the hearts of the fans.”

The man finally sighs, shoulders falling and arms flopping lazily to his side, the sentimentality of the words he just spoke tasting bitter on his tongue.

“Besides, even in death there is a beauty. The crystal exarch lived his life fulfilled and having realized his wish at the end. I expect you to remember that when you eventually see him off.”

There’s a silence that hangs and festers in the air for a moment, before the fur on G’raha’s tail stands and his chest puffs up in a show of renewed determination.

“Y-you’re right, Emet! The crystal exarch dedicated his life to finding a way to save others... There is no better way to end his legacy than to see the world he’s protected for so long finally saved!” 

Standing onto his feet, the miqo’te clenches his hands into fists and nods before casting a glance down at Illya.

“Illya! I will act my heart out to the best I can! I’ll act so hard that I’ll make you cry on set for sure!”

The corners of her lip tugs upwards into a wide smile, glowing as the afternoon sun basks down and reflects upon her snowy white hair and the blossoms of her amethyst eyes. Even with the black of the garments she wore and the eastern patterned ribbon that held the braid around her head in place, she was luminous and blinding in her radiant presence... not unlike the heroine of their story.

“Of course! And I’m sure the rest of the crystal exarch fan club will too when they watch that episode.” 

“Illya, G’raha!” A pink haired lalafellin calls out to them from a distance away, her olive green eyes wide and excited as she waves her hands high above her head. A raven haired man stands just behind her, his dark blue eyes narrowed as he reviews the script in his hands intently. “We’re starting soon! Get over here!”

“Coming! Just give us a second!” G’raha waves back with a grin before turning back to look at Emet Selch with an apologetic, yet grateful bow, his relaxed tail swaying gently from side to side behind his back. 

“Thank you, Emet. I won’t soon forget your encouragements. I’ll do my best and make sure to not let everyone down.”

“Yes, yes. Spare me the nauseating mush. I was just making sure you didn’t drag your co-actor down with your sulking.” 

The elder man now glances at the starry eyed girl with amusement flashing through his expression, and Illya can already feel her earlier lighthearted elation fade as quickly as it came. 

“By the way... I’m sure if you asked Yoshida properly.. he’d be willing to consider writing in a kiss scene with Liliya and-”

“If I were the warrior of darkness, I’d take my crescent moon cane and stab you with the end of it......”

------

Meanwhile, a little distance away from the trio, Kaye lets out a low hum as he reads and re-reads the words upon the small stacks of paper he held, expression doubtful and confused.

“You sure this is the script to Endwalker?”

“Yeah, I am! Alphinaud gave this copy and said that he got from miss Ishikawa directly! Apparently he’s playing another major role in the next season, which is why he got the script early as a heads up.”

“But... it says here that the crystal exarch gets reincarnated? Assuming that’s not gonna be changed... that means G’raha’s gonna be...”

Kaye’s head lifts and turns, eyes wide and brows furrowing in bemusement only to see an impish smile glimmer upon Lily’s face.

“Should we tell him?”

“Hm...? Nah... He’s gonna film the exarch’s death scene soon, right? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the little surprise later, anyways.”

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 26

This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭 

I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳

And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 26/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade

Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.

Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.

And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.

It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.

But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.

She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.

The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.

“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.

They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.

“Go-karts?”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”

She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”

“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”

As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.

“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.

“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”

He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.

Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.

But, so far, it hadn’t worked.

Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.

Hey loser. You have plans today?

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?

She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.

A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.

That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.

Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.

She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.

Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.

“Are you shitting me?”

“There you are.”

Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”

Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.

She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”

“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”

His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”

“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”

“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”

She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.

“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”

She nodded.

“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”

She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”

Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”

He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”

She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”

Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.

“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”

She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”

* * * * * * * * * * 

To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.

But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.

“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”

“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.

There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.

“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”

She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”

But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”

Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.

“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”

She thought for a second. “Beef.”

A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”

Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”

“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”

“Mixed please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”

“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.

“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”

His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”

“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.

“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.

“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”

There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.

He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”

“Well… are you two not together?”

He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.

“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”

“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.

“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”

Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.

But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”

He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”

Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”

“You didn’t with Adam.”

He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.

“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.

“What?”

“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”

His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”

“What?”

“I swear.”

“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”

“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”

Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”

The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.

But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.

“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”

She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.

“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”

Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.

“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Anything but Mean Girls.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.

He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.

Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?

It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?  

He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.

A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.

I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.

This all happened way too fast.

He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.

But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.

“Matt.”

“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.

“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.

“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.

“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”

There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”

He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.

“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.

Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”

There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.

But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”

“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”

That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.

“What?”

“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”

Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”

“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”

They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.

“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”

Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”

“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”

Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”

Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.

“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”

“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Spell it.”

“Are you serious?”

Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.

She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.

“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.

She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”

“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”

Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.

He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”

He looked confused at that. “No… why?”

She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”

Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.

“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”

“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”

He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.

“Where are you headed?”

She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”

“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?

No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.

“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.

Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.

Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.

Are you free? I need a favor.

Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.

Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.

Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.

Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.

Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.

“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.

“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.

“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”    

“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”

She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”

He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”

Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”

Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”

She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”

“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”

Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.

“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.

“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.

“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.

“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.

“You ready for this?” Trent asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.

“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”

He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.

Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”

Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.

Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.

Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.

“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.

* * * * * * * * * *

A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.

“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”

Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”

“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”

The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.

The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.

BOOM!

The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.  

She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.

“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.  

But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”

Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.

Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.

“Trent! Tag me in!”

She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.

The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.

Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”

Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.

But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”

That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.

“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”

For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.

“What’d you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Why don’t you say it again.”

“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.

“Matt!”

At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.

He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.

He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.

“Alex—”

Smack!

He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.

“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.

“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It was an accident—”

“Alex!”

Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.

Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.

But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.  

He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.

She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.

“Callie!”

She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.

“Callie! What the fuck?”

That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”

If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”

Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.

“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”

Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.

She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”

She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”

She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“That’s the truth!”

“Was all this just a rebound to you?”

If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”

He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”

She took a step toward him. “Matt—”

“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.

[anlian-aishang]

Hi may I request a fanfic where Levi takes care of you on your period and it’s his first time doing so and he gets really worried when you’re in pain. btw I really really love your writing and your stories are something I look forward to!!

Anon, not only are you too sweet, but I am also in love with this scenario! No kidding, I dream about it at all times of the month. Something about it is simply A-tier adorable. Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy ❤️

Word count: 3100  Tags: levi x reader, sfw, blood mention, caretaking, fem!reader

Few people could ever wake up to a sight as beautiful as yours. With each morning came the reminder that you were the luckiest woman alive. No one else could start the day face-to-face with a sunkissed, sleeping Levi.

It was a side of him that no one else got to see and you woke up to it every morning, one of the countless perks of dating him. Typically straight bangs flopped across his face. Typically terse lips drifted apart in sleep. Typically stoic voice released the slightest of sleepy moans. Each morning, you took a few moments to take him all in.

Little did you know that he did the same to you each night. He watched your body rise and fall in breathing. He brushed the hair out of your face. He chuckled at your drooling and snoring. Before falling asleep, he would kiss your forehead, press your noses together, and sling an arm around your back. His moonlit routine.

This morning, though, your admiration was interrupted early. A fierce grip of both nausea and pain suddenly seized your insides. Just as you were about to reach a hand to his waist, you pulled it back to cinch your own.

The last thing you wanted was to wake your sleeping partner. The insomniac he was, he was always in desperate need of sleep. Gritting your teeth, you rolled onto your other side. With one particular stab of pain, you threw a hand over your mouth trying to muffle your reaction.

At the sound of your wince, Levi immediately shot up awake, “Huh?”

At the sight of your condition, he frantically gripped your shoulder, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Through clenched teeth, your voice was faint, “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. I’m -” a sharp inhale, ”I’m okay.” The poor man was always under stress, you did not want to worry him with mere cramps.

However, your dismissal was anything but convincing. Careful breathing only worried him all the more. Words said you were fine. Body said you were not.

Pressing his front to your back, he became your big spoon. Hand caressed your side, up and down from hips to shoulder, repeatedly. Whether from the cuddling or the cramps, a round of chills flooded through you. At your twitch, Levi combed through your hair with his fingers, exposing your ear. You were a real trooper and he had seen you get tough many times before. Seeing you curled up in the fetal position, hearing your tiny whimpers, he was nothing short of terrified. It must be really bad.

He pressed his lips to the cusp of your ear. His voice was often shaky in the mornings, but this was something more. It was not cracking from morning grog, it was breaking from concern. “What is it, babe?”

You had a feeling you knew what it was, but you had to make sure, and you did not want to check in front of him. An unexpected sight of blood in your pants, you could only imagine how much he would panic. “I have a guess, I’ll be right back.”

You swung your legs over the edge, continuing to clutch your side. As you stood from the bed, pain abruptly worsened, drawing another whimper from you.

Levi sat up hurriedly, “Do you need me to walk you there?”

He was far more worried than you were. You gave a playful tousle of his hair, attempting to calm him down, “I’m alright, I promise. I’ll be right back.”

At the door frame, you turned back to him. His attention vehemently on you, eyebrows arched in shock, mouth parted in concern. “Hey, Levi?”

“Yeah?” Clearly alarmed.

“Do you know if we have any chocolate?”

He blinked twice. Did I hear her right? “Any what?”

Faced with his genuine anxiety, you had to chuckle to yourself, “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

It was obvious to him that you were smiling through the pain. Your acting skills had done little, if anything, to diminish his worries. As you left for the bathroom, he placed a hand to his forehead, It’s certainly not nothing...

// // //

Yep, it’s happening.

Finding blood in your panties was both troubling and relieving. It would be a long week ahead, but at least it was only that. Nothing unfamiliar. Nothing too serious. Still, it was never easy, let alone any fun, to get your period.

First things first, no more staining your underwear. Your clean freak would not be too happy about that.

You pulled open the special drawer. Empty. Oh no…

You frantically searched every compartment, there was not a period product in sight. Shit… did I really forget to restock last time?

Hormones undoubtedly amplified the inconvenience. So frustrating. Not only did you have no products, the knife in your tummy was sharpening. Only one solution seemed right in your mind. You stripped yourself down and drew a hot bath.

// // //

Knock Knock. “Come in!”

Finding you so relaxed in the tub, body sprawled out, eyes closed and smiling, Levi finally felt a tad of relief. It was a good call coming to check on you. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, “So, you’re just constipated or something?”

You chuckled. Levi’s sense of humor, it had grown on you, “Nahh, not quite.”

He sat on the edge of the tub, “Figure out what it is?”

The two of you had been much more intimate many times before, but there was something about looking him straight in the eyes and saying it, you could not get yourself to do it. You could say, Yes. My uterine lining is shedding because we didn’t make a baby. Or you could just say, “It’s my shark week.”

The perplexion on his face illustrated: he was clearly not up to date with code talk. “What…?”

A deep breath and sigh. You had no choice but to be blunt, “I’m having my period.”

Any tinge of calm he felt was promptly washed away, “Shit…”

In his young age, Levi had experienced more than most ever would in their entire lives. However, helping someone through their period was an event he had yet to experience. He tried to hide it in his face, but in truth, he was absolutely clueless. Eyes scanned the bathroom for clues about your condition.

He had seen plenty of gore in his life, but blood in his girlfriend’s underwear was something different. It sparked both a primal instinct to protect you and also a tender pang in his heart. I have to help her… My poor little thing…

With sympathy in his eyes, he pet the top of your head, “What do you need me to do?”

“Umm, well…” Why am I so nervous?

Levi moved his hand to your shoulder, “Spit it out, I’ll do anything, no questions asked.”

In this moment, your eyes met in a mutual understanding: even though this was just your monthly cycle, he would always do whatever it took to help you in any circumstance, now and forever, today and every day.

God, I’m so in love with him… Voice caught in your throat, “I know it’s embarrassing, and that I should have bought them last time, but I’m stupid and forgot to…”

You held your knees to your body, “And it’s not fair that you’re always the one cleaning up after my carelessness, making up for my mistakes…” You ducked your head in your arms.

Levi raised his eyebrows. You were so emotional all of a sudden, laughing one minute, near tears the next. A tender hand massaged the back of your neck, “Hey, hey… don’t cry…”

But his calming techniques did not seem to work. Before he knew what happened, you were sobbing into your hands. It took him a moment to recognize, this was probably the work of hormones. You were not the one to randomly burst into tears. His tough cookie had been crumbled so quickly, This is worse than I thought.

He was quick to size up a situation. Every drawer of the vanity was ajar, it looked like you had done a desperate search. It was clear to him: you were missing something you needed. Without a word, he understood what he had to do. While he wanted to tend to this weeping heap, no one could be happy with blood-stained panties.

Levi pushed aside some strands of wet hair, “I’ll be back before you know it, baby.”

// // //

He had said no questions asked when he left, but finding himself in the feminine aisle for the first time in his life, he sure wished you had given him some instructions.

It was surprisingly overwhelming. Faced with a whole aisle of unfamiliar products, he felt there had to be more you needed but had just failed to ask for. It was a miniature panic. Too many choices, not enough time.

He went in thinking he would just buy pads, but he had no idea there were so many kinds. Of course, there were many brands, but there were also many variations. Turning over the packages, he hoped to find instructions for the average clueless boyfriend. Instead, there were only pink and purple outlines of women playing soccer. Tch… not helpful. Do they expect everyone to be born with this knowledge? Ridiculous.

Overnight? As far as he knew, the bleeding took no breaks, not even for sleeping. If they sold them, periods at night must be distinct from the day. He picked up a pack.  

Wings or no wings? Blood could manifest in all different forms. Would it clot on top or spill over the sides? He picked up some with and some without.

Scented or unscented? He was all too familiar with the rancid smell of blood, but maybe unscented would be irritating on your skin. He picked up both kinds.

Light, medium, heavy flow? The blood he saw before sure looked like a lot. Come to think of it, any blood in underwear was already too much. He had no idea how to classify your “flow”. He picked up one of each.

But that was not all, there were also countless other products filling the aisle. Pain relievers, pH balanced soaps, heating pads. He picked up one of everything… just to be safe.

When the register rang up his total, eyes widened at the astronomical price.

What a bunch of bullshit. Spending money on you did not bother him, in fact, he secretly loved spoiling you every once in a while. However, he never expected these basic medical supplies - no, necessities - to be so expensive. Having a period was no luxury, it should not be priced like one.

As the cashier counted his money, he caught a figure out of the corner of his eye. Some asinine punk poking fun at his purchase. Taking care of someone, let alone an angel like you, was nothing to be ashamed of. Levi met his mockery with a trademark glare, quickly disintegrating the smug smile.

Moron… Levi returned his gaze to the register, catching the glimpse of one last necessity.

“Hold on, add this on there too. With me, not in the bag.”

// // //

Fear of staining the couch came second to his surprise of your state. Black sweatpants, thick sweatshirt, no more tears, you seemed miles better than you had when he left.

He set the bags next to you, kissing your forehead, “You seem better.”

“Hah, I suppose you could say that.” An aching and ill-timed cramp, you smiled through it for him.

“What are you doing out here? I thought you didn't have anything left.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but I had to get out of the tub.” If not so caught up in your well-being, your disregard for staining might have landed you a playful and punishing spank, courtesy of your clean freak.

“But- but…” He could not quite connect the dots, “what do you do when you have nothing?”

“Oh, you know, you just have to improvise.” When his posture beckoned for an explanation, you thought he deserved one, “I know some people use socks, towels, napkins… In a pinch, I personally resort to toilet paper.”

“So you’re saying…”

Embarrassed eyes. You merely nodded in affirmation.

Though you expected anger, he was only disheartened. No one should have to go through something like that, least of all someone like you. Levi made a mental note: he would never let you run out of supplies again.

“Well don’t worry. I got you some stuff.” Behind his plain expression, he was excited for your reaction. I did such a good job, she doesn’t even know.

“That’s a lot of bags, what else did you buy?”

“What do you mean?”

Peeking in the bags, you bit back a laugh. He had bought every kind of pad under the sun. You counted 8 packs, at least 12 in each, that was… nearly 100 pads!? He swore to himself he would never let you run out of pads, little did he know, he would not have to worry about it for quite a while. Keeping your smile tucked down, “Did you keep the receipt?”

If you had to go through this agony once a month, he felt paying for it was the least he could do. Picking up none of your amusement, “No, of course not. Don’t even think about paying me back.”

“Not that. This is... “ way WAY too much stuff! The concerned look in his eyes, you could not get yourself to laugh at him. Changing your train of thought. “This is all too kind. Thank you, darling.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, internally proud of himself. “Oh, I almost forgot. I got you breakfast, too.” He gave a simple toss of your favorite chocolate bar.

Mouth fell open at his kindness. Levi smiled, “Don’t think I don’t catch those things.”

// // //

Despite getting lost in the feminine aisle, Levi was actually an innate caretaker. Any sudden cramps, he would warm up the heating pad. Pain relievers were dosed out the minute you could take them. He was able to keep up with your hot takes as they jumped from topic to topic.

“Yeah, you’re right. They were totally out of line.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That book breaks my heart too.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Fried chicken is severely underrated.”

“Hey, Levi?”

“Yeah?”

“Speaking of which… how do you feel about take-out tonight?” A pleading smile, which you only whipped out on the most desperate occasions.

His pharmacy excursion had burned a hole in his wallet, but he did not even think about saying no to you. You always seemed to be putting yourself last on the priority list. Buying you a meal as your uterus bled out, it was the absolute least he could do.

Levi tousled your hair, Goddamn she’s adorable. “Sounds perfect.”

He even went out to get it for you, not bothering to ask if you wanted to come with or not. Given your exhaustion, it was painfully obvious that you would not be thrilled to get up and go somewhere. The selfless person you were, he knew that if he asked, you would do it anyways. 30 minutes later, you would be wondering what the hell you were doing so far from your heating pad.

As he wrote down your order, he internally chuckled at how much you wanted. Times like these, you ordered from the stomach, not from the mind. Times like these, he knew not to laugh about it. Just when he thought you had listed your last item, you surprised him with “and can I also get…” It was never ending. It was too cute.

With a soft rub of your tummy and a tiny kiss of the head, he was off to fetch your food, “Be back soon.”

Watching him head out for the second time today, amped emotions manifested from a laugh to a cry. Giggling or sobbing, you recognized: you really were the luckiest girl in the world.

// // //

When Levi came back with take-out, he was not at all surprised to find you fast asleep. Setting the food on the counter, he sauntered to the sofa. Chocolate on your face, hot pad on your abdomen, blankets on your body, he could not help but smile.

He could reheat the food anytime, this cute bundle in front of him, she would only visit him once a month. He seized the moment, joining you under the covers, once again pressing his body to your back.

A sleepy stir, “Mmm, L-Levi?”

“Shh, shh… Get some rest. Your body’s working hard.” Levi reached a hand around, scratching your back, attempting to lull you back to sleep.

You rolled on your side, this time facing him. A sudden and sleepy kiss on the lips. In your fatigue, he had predicted a simple peck. Instead, your tongue was relentless, hands explored all parts of his body, high-pitch moans met his mouth. Well, this was unexpected. Is this “in heat”?

Indeed, he looked perfect as ever. The sunset highlighted his already flawless features. Black bangs were coated in amber. Blue of his eyes contrasted the orange sky. Shadow of the angle outlined his muscle. Oh my... 

It was not only his physical features, it was also the loving partner he was. All your friends seemed to have stories of their boyfriends’ poor attitudes during that time of the month. Trying to ignore them, not sympathizing with them, even going far as to say “eww” to their faces. Even though he was a neat freak, Levi never ever found you gross, to your face or not. You were the love of his life, how could he?

All of him was too good to be true. All you wanted was to let him know.

Eyes widened in shock, but at your passion, he was quick to reciprocate. In his thrill, he was careful with his affection. There was a lot he wanted to do to you, especially faced with this newfound lust, but least of all was hurt you.

You were in a lot of pain, he had been sent on multiple fetch quests, the day was not exactly easy. But with how extra cuddly and cute you were, he closed his eyes in content, maintaining the kiss through and through. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

// masterlist //

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

ABOUT YOU | JISUNG

Content: Fluff, Arranged Marriage Au, Angst

Summary: Fate works in wonderous ways and you believe in it, you just didn’t expect it to have the person you’ve been wanting to actually be yours.

Note: not proof read, comment the corrections

Let me start this story off with a little description of my crush, Park Jisung.

Tall, talented, funny, and hellishly handsome. Everyone in the year group has tried to get his attention, become his friend or girlfriend, they wanted to be involved with the particularly lonely boy.

Unfortunately for them, he ignored every single thing they said, he didn’t even give a nod, a smile, or a quiet reply. He just stared straight into the wall or the window as he tapped his fingers to the beat of the music playing on his headphones.

No one knew why he did the things he did but not one of them was planning on stopping. At this point, I reckon people have already made bets on who’s gonna make him talk first.

I did like him like most of the girls in my year group but I didn’t have the guts to do what they do. I couldn’t walk up to him and give him a ‘hi’, I couldn’t even give him a little grin because the moment I see him, my body seems to freeze.

I’m slowly getting over it, I don’t look at him as much nor think about him as much, sometimes he’s way too quiet that I forget he’s in my class. I guess that’s a good thing, right? Liking a guy who hasn’t talked to you for two years straight isn’t that hard to get over.

September 20, 2020 [9:00 am]

“Crap” I muttered, my brows furrowing and my heels dropping to the ground. There was no ladder near me, not even a stool. I tried again, I tip-toed and tried to grasp the red paint bottle but its plastic coverage just slipped against my fingers.

“Come on” I muttered in disbelief, my hands falling to my sides and the little strands of my hair falling against my face. “Thud!” My ears perked and my eyes widened at the sudden sound, the red paint bottle was now in front of me.

I turned my head wondering who helped me and the first person I saw gave me doubts...Jisung. He was just a meter away, his back facing me, his hands in his pockets and his earphones on full blast making me hear little bits of the song he’s playing.

“Did he just....” I started but didn’t continue, realizing that no one would answer my question anyway. I ignored the little incident and turned my body back to face the red paint. I flicked the cap open and squeezed a bit onto my palette.

“Y/n!” My body straightened in shock. “Geez, Soobin you scared me!” I replied to the tall boy beside me and he grinned, his eyes disappearing while his dimples deepened. “I was just going to ask you something” he started, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Are you friends with Jisung?” The question was indeed out of the blue. “What are you talking—“ I was just about to reply when a deep, low, quiet voice replied for me. “What if we are?”

I turned my head around and his close presence made the hairs on my body stand. His neck just before my eyes, making me tilt my head back to really see him. It was Jisung.

Soobin’s eyes widened at the sudden interaction and even I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening. Beomgyu, the class president called Soobin over, so before he could say anything, I was left alone with the mysterious boy.

“Wait...why are you talking to me?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing and my voice faltering. “Your father is the owner of Elite Studies isn’t he?” Jisung asked, pulling his earphones off his ear. “Yeah” I muttered, wondering if he was going to ask for money, especially since my father is pretty known.

“Well, I’ll say it now before you get the news at home”

“What?”

“We’re getting married”

-

September 20, 2020 [3:45 pm]

“Mom! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked in disbelief, my parents just sighing at the ruckus I made. “It’s just for a year, show the media you’re together then file a divorce” my father replied, the plea in his eyes making me stressed.

I don’t mind getting married to him, hell, I’d love to but I don’t know him, not a single bit of him and he doesn’t know me! Are we going to start talking at school? Is he going to give me rides? Will he propose? Is he going to hold my hand?

I don’t know and I'm scared that he’s not going to like me.

_

September 28, 2020 [11:30 am]

I tightly gripped on my royally white dress, the beautiful silk and lace being something I’ve never found myself in. I took deep breaths calming my pounding heart, the sound of cameras were already filling the magnificent venue and I didn’t know whether that was our paid photographers or the paparazzi.

“You’ll be fine” my dad whispered as I hooked my shaking hands around his arm. I nodded to him but I guess it was more directed to myself, I hope that I’ll be fine.

“Please welcome the bride” I heard someone say and the big double doors of the church opened, I slowly walked in with a smile, trying to convince everyone that everything was alright and I was having fun on my wedding day. The sound of the piano, violin, horns, and cheers entered my ears as I waltzed into the venue. It was gorgeous but what else did I expect from my perfectionist of a mom? “Focus” I hear my father whisper and my body straightened.

Jisung looked magnificent.

You know when you like someone and you start creating scenarios in your head? Well one of them was this and it was actually happening. I was getting married to him. The pounding of my heart worsened but not from nervousness. I was scared that if the butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings even harder I would fly.

I stood in front of him and the music stopped. Calmly taking my shaking hands, I give him a half hearted smile. I hear the priest speak but I can’t even register his words, one second I see my mom crying, the other I already have a ring on my finger and moments after that, his lips were against mine.

October 2 2020 [7:47 am]

“How’s it feel to be married to me?” Jisung asks with a grin, taking a sip of his coffee. We were at a famous coffee shop in the business district and we were well aware of the paparazzi inside and outside the store. I roll my eyes at him, looking out the window, giving a sneaky glance at the photographer inside her car, acting as if she was checking her camera's gallery.

“In all seriousness though, how is it?” Jisung asks and I turn my head to face him. I didn’t know if I should reply with a joke or with a normal phrase but I had to answer one way or another. “It’s...” I hesitate, not wanting to say the wrong word. “It’s interesting”

“How so?” He asks, his eyes connecting with mine. “Well, it's not everyday you get to marry someone you genuinely like” I replied feeling a little brave and I watched as his eyes widened. “You liked me and you didn’t even talk to me?” He said in disbelief and I chuckled nervously at him. “Well you already had like....millions of girls talking to you, what would I be compared to them?” I uttered out and he shook his head with a little grin, one that made my heart flutter.

“I swear Y/n, you should really start telling what you feel, I can’t believe I spent 2 years wondering if you liked me back”

"Stop tripping" I roll my eyes. After the time I've spent with him, I learned that he was one hell of a funny lad and what I liked most about that was how he laughed. The sound of it echoing through my ears before I sleep giving me the best dreams.

“But I’m not” Jisung replied, his eyes not leaving mine. I chuckle, looking away, taking a sip of my drink.

October 5 2020 [6:03 pm]

Today, we had to put on a show. A public dinner with the Park family could go either extremely smoothly or horribly but it was part of the deal.

“Ah welcome!” Mr. Park greeted us as we entered the venue. Mr. Park was still sitting on his chair because only his black crane kept him standing. He wasn’t that old but he was weakening, sometimes I’d see Jisung holding him up, even on the wedding day, I watched as he sat still on his chair, chatting away, only having his wife fetch food for him.

He couldn’t stand, so I walked towards him and gave him a smile. Greeting him out of respect.

Here’s the thing, the place was wrapped in velvet and gold. It was a ‘private’ room away from the other customers but its wall was made of glass. Once the people from outside look up the second floor of the fancy restaurant, they’d see us but that’s exactly the point.

I immediately gave a light hug to Mrs. Park and walked towards Jisung. As if it was natural, he stood up and wrapped me in his arms, leaving a peck on my forehead. I let him finish his act then I sat on the fancy chair beside him.

“Go and order whatever you want” His dad welcomed us, so I gladly took the menu and as I read through the thick black and gold fonted paper, I felt Jisung’s hands go over my shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

“What do you want?” I asked pertaining to the menu and warily sending a look to my parents just to see them chatting away. “I want you” he leaned into my ear as he whispered that and I glared at him. Well correction...I tried to glare at him.

“You’re stupid” I whisper and I felt him reply with a little peck on my head. “Stupid for you babe” I cringed at the name. “Don’t call me babe” I complained and he smiled. “What do you want me to call you?” he asked and I thought about it. Might as well get a special name for each other since we're doing this for a year.

“How about…...love?” I questioned, raising my brow at him. “I like that...love” he replied and I chuckled. Suddenly I felt eyes staring at me so I looked at Jisung just to see him going through the menu, his arm still wrapped around my shoulder.

So I looked up front and I found my parents and his parents staring at us with a smile. “Maybe it isn’t so fake after all” his mother whispered to my mom but I heard and...I felt chills running down my spine.

October 17 2020 [1:07 pm]

You were having lunch at his home, this being something you’re now used to. It was quiet and calm, your parents discussing about making a joint building and adding more staff meanwhile you were there reading a book as you shoved the pasta down your throat.

You hear Jisung laugh so you turn your head to side to see what he was laughing at, turns out it was you. “What are you looking at?” you scrunch your nose and he chuckled a little louder. The boy leaned closer and placed his lips on your ear, it was something you were used to at this point.

“That’s not the only thing you can shove down your throat, love” he whispered and your eyes widened. “Jisung!” you squealed making both your parents stop and give you guys a look. “It’s nothing” Jisung laughed so they disregarded it and continued their conversation.

November 10 2020 [10:06 am]

Today we were visiting Jisung’s family to say a little goodbye to them since they were going on a holiday trip in Greece. I wasn’t really in the mood since I was enjoying binge-watching this show called “I-land” but my mom had to interrupt and stop me.

“Where’s Jisung?” I asked Mrs. Park and she pointed towards his room. “Ah” I nodded and walked towards the white double doors of his batcave. I calmly walked towards it, making no sound and no fuss but I heard something that made me halt.

I heard sniffles, loud ones and a sad groan that made my heart beat fasten. ‘Was he crying?’ I thought to myself and I hesitated. Do I still walk in? Or should I wait for him to calm down? Maybe he’s just watching a video with someone crying? to say it simply. I didn’t know what to do.

So I decided to just talk to him anyway.

I knock on the door then hear him shuffling, the sniffles come to a halt and the tension inside the room emitted outside his door then seconds later, it clicked open.

-Narrator’s POV-

You noticed the way he wiped the dried tears on his skin and how he splashed water on his face to make him look livier. The redness of his cheeks and eyes still said otherwise so without a word you open your arms and wrap it around his torso.

The boy softens against your touch.

You get inside the room and shut the door, guiding the shaking boy to the bed. “What’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head. “Please tell me”

“I can’t handle seeing you in pain” you feel sadness bubbling up your body and you feel him melting in your arms deeper, if he softened even more you’d fuse into one another. The boy sobbed into your neck, the tears dripping down your skin, painfully slow.

Still, he didn’t speak.

“You’ll be okay my love” the words rolled off your tongue easily like you were meant to say it. “Now, can you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask and you feel him nod into your neck. “I…” he starts. “I have to take my father’s place as the CEO…’cause he’s ill...he’s dying”

The world seemed to stop at that moment, he feels your body turn tense and worried. “My goodness” you mutter and he cries harder. You shut your eyes, sighing in frustration but still trying to keep calm for him.

“Fuck it” you mutter, gently cupping his face, raising it, making your eyes meet. The tears rolling out his eyes landed on your hands but you didn’t mind. You didn’t break eye-contact, you stayed there and drowned yourself in his tears.

“Jisung….I know you and you’re strong, I’m here for you...I love you”

You feel his jaw clench and the tips of his lips lifting, you expect him to say something as his mouth parts but instead he pushes your hand off and kisses you.

And you kissed him back.

[vintagedaydreams]

True Love Never Runs Smoothly Part FIVE (Carlisle)

What? Two updates in a week? I’m actually sure I’ve been replaced with an alien. Hope she gets my laundry done while she’s here.

Warnings: suicidal/depressed thoughts, anxiety attack, language, bit of blood, same ol’ same ol’ really.

Enjoy!!

@kettnerjanea​ @jelly-fishy-babie​ @the-graceful-ace @amwolowicz​ @batsdothings​ @waxingmoonstone​ @littlebabybatthings @mauvette268​ @sagittarius-flowerchild​ @katsav17​ @batsuperflashmartianwonderman​ @imyourapocalypse​

The next morning found you wandering the castle corridors, looking for any member of the Volturi. You needed to go home. You had a life you’d very much like to get back to and a job that you’d very much like to keep.

You had only come here because you were Carlisle’s Mate and you and Bella were still human.

You stumbled a bit. Shit. There hadn’t been any discussion about you and Bella being human. And hopefully staying human. At least for a bit longer.

Or maybe there had and you missed it. You had been sequestered in your room an awful lot the past few days. And for good bloody reason.

You really needed to find one of the Kings – Aro preferably. Marcus you didn’t really want to bother – he seemed like he was always miles away. And Caius… well he still scared the crap out of you. While the rest of the Volturi had been ridiculously nice, he hadn’t given you much attention. Which was absolutely fine with you, but you also hadn’t had any chance to get to know him. Again, absolutely fine with you, but not knowing him made you wary around him.

Yes, Aro would be the preferred option.

If only this castle wasn’t so confusing!

You wandered around for who knows how long before you stumbled across yet another hallway that didn’t look the least bit familiar to you. Well, it looked like every other hallway, but other than that, completely unknown to you.

But it was darker than other hallways in the castle and you felt your skin prickle in awareness. Okay, so in hindsight, a human wandering through a castle that housed creatures that ate humans wasn’t like…the brightest idea you’d ever had.

Though, in your defense, you had been greeted, and quite quickly too, any other time you’d ventured out of your rooms. Except for today.

Just your luck. You need to leave and then can’t find anybody.

At this point, you’d even be willing to meet up with a Cullen!

Well…maybe you weren’t quite that desperate yet.

Movement at the end of the hall had your ears metaphorically perked and goosebumps erupted on your arms. There were little to no lights in the halls as you wandered deeper into the castle – guess vampires didn’t need lights to see in the dark.

You did though. And right now, the one feebly glowing torch, (an actual fire torch!), was giving off a very small halo of light that you’d stopped in.

You couldn’t see much further down the hall.

But you could hear the noise of something moving again.

You couldn’t help the shiver that raced through you. It would be very…inconvenient if you were to die here, today. After all the shit you’d been through recently…it… it would actually be just your luck, come to think of it.

Of course you’d die when you finally made up your mind to leave all of this, all of them, behind.

But, if a vampire was trying to stalk you, wouldn’t they move silently so you couldn’t hear them?

A nasty voice in your head shot back, Why would they move silently when there is no one else around to hear?

…True. You hadn’t seen anyone since you left our room. The vampire trying to eat you would not need to move quietly. It’s not like you could do anything against them and with no one else in hearing range…

Shit.

There was a scrape on the stone ahead of you in the dark and then a gust of wind and suddenly, the lit torch was out and you were thrown into total darkness.

You broke out in a cold sweat and desperately turned your head this way and that to try to see something. Anything.

But it was too dark. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

Another gust of wind blew past you and then, you felt the chill of a nearby vampire seeping into your skin.

Whoever it was, they were standing close. Very close.

A soft whimper escaped without your permission when you were suddenly pushed to the wall behind you and a cold hard body was pressed against you.

“You and the other human have been guarded quite carefully,” an unknown male voice breathed out, sweet smelling breath wafting across your face and turning your stomach. “The other human’s mate has not left her side, but you…your mate has not been seen by your side since you first arrived. And now that the Volturi Guards are no longer protecting you, you are…free for the taking.”

Another whimper made it past your lips and you clenched your eyes shut as a long fingered hand ran through your hair in a mock expression of tenderness.

“Hush,” came the purred command. “I won’t hurt you. Much.”

You bit your lip hard to stifle another sound.

“You should be thanking me,” the male vampire continued, voice pitched low and soothing. “Your mate doesn’t want you and no vampire wants an Unwanted Bond Mate. You’re too entangled with the Vampire world to be set free now. You’ll likely either be changed or killed. But…no one will want you as a vampire.”

You flinched at that and the vampire in front of you moved even closer to you.

“A Bond Mate is a sacred thing,” he continued, voice near a purr. “If you are Unwanted, there is something wrong with you that no vampire will want to touch. But I…I can help you.”

The hand in your hair suddenly tangled deep and your head was jerked back to bounce against the stone behind you and bare your neck.

“I can save you from an eternity of loneliness by killing you now. And, as you have no guards and no Mate here to say otherwise, why shouldn’t I?”

You couldn’t quite keep the half sob from escaping this time but you froze as you felt a hand around your throat.

“I said to hush,” the vampire growled, fingers tightening around your neck threateningly. “I do not want to rush this, Unwanted Mate. I would like to enjoy this. But if you keep making sounds, I won’t be quite so nice to you.”

Dutifully, you swallowed your cries, though you were unable to keep yourself from trembling.

You had never been scared of vampires before – not like this. The Cullens and Hales had been rude, angry and completely destroyed your self esteem, but they had never actively tried to kill you before. Neither had the Volturi.

But this one—

A sharp pain on the side of your face startled a gasp out of you and your eyes flew open, even though you couldn’t see.

“That’s better,” the vampire purred, the sound of sucking reaching your ears. Something wet ran down the side of your face and you realized with a full body shudder that the vampire had cut your cheek and was licking the blood off his finger.

His fingers were no longer locked around your throat, but they were still tangled deep in your hair, keeping your head up and your neck exposed.

“I want your attention solely on me when I feed from you,” your assailant purred, “not lost up in your head.”

You clenched your eyes shut again as you felt the vampire lean in, a lone tear snaking it’s way down your face.

“Crying will not help you now,” he whispered, breath fanning your neck against your jugular. There was the barest hint of a fang scraping your skin and then suddenly, a loud cracking was heard by your face and the presence in front of you was gone.

Something gently hit the side of your head and with a rolling stomach, you realized the unknown vampire’s hand was still in your hair and hanging limply, detached from the rest of his body that was now no longer near you.

What sounded like metal being torn apart, and loud feral growls, alerted you to the fact that a bit farther down the hall, your attacker was being attacked.

By who, you didn’t know.

A cold hand gripped your elbow and you screamed, startled.

“Easy, Cara,” came Aro’s low voice, “you are safe now.”

Gentle hands began to untangle the vampire’s fingers still buried in your hair and you felt your trembling worsen. This was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced.

The pressure eased off your head, but you felt your chest tighten as it got harder to breathe. You’d almost died. You’d been attacked and toyed with by a vampire that was about to drain you. Kill you. You had almost been murdered!

“Cara,” Aro’s voice sounded from far away, “Cara, you are safe now. That vampire will not be able to touch you again. Your mate has taken care of him. Come, cara, breathe for me.”

You tried, you really did, but you couldn’t get your mind to stop spinning in circles around the fact that you had just been attacked and almost drained by a vampire a few moments ago!

Aro’s voice faded back to the background again as you tried to get air into your lungs, only to spiral down into a deeper panic when you couldn’t get enough air. You managed to survive being almost killed by a vampire only to suffocate yourself immediately after!

Cold arms were suddenly wrapped around you and you were lowered to sit in a cold lap. You struggled for a moment – you would not be almost drained again! – but then the scent registered. Woods and spice and home.

Carlisle.

Whatever reservations you had, whatever anger you were feeling towards the man who had shoved you aside to the mercy of his family, all disappeared as you felt a strong feeling of safety envelop you.

Burying yourself in his chest, you wrapped your arms around him in return and started giving off hiccoughing sobs in between your struggle for air.

You just wanted to go home!

The cold chest you were pressed against started vibrating with a low purr and a large hand started rubbing up and down your back.

“Y/N,” Carlisle murmured, voice calm and doctor-like, (though was that a hint of fear you detected?), “you are safe. I need you to listen to my breathing and try and match yours, okay? You need to calm down before you hurt yourself. Breathe in, hold it…and breathe out, hold it.”

It took a few tries, but you followed along to both his instructions and his exaggerated breathing as best you could.

“Good, Y/N, good. In, hold…and out, hold.”

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in a darkened corridor in Carlisle’s lap, but finally, finally, you felt your breathing coming more naturally and the pain in your chest started to ease, leaving a bone deep weariness in its place.

This was…not how you had envisioned you leaving Volterra to happen. You had been hoping you could just slip out and not think about the supernatural again.

Obviously that didn’t work out.

“Cara,” Aro’s voice spoke up suddenly from somewhere to your left, “what were you doing down here?”

“I was looking for you,” you murmured out, surprised at how hoarse and exhausted your voice sounded.

“Me?” Aro said in surprise and you nodded against Carlisle’s chest.

Right. Carlisle.

You needed to move, like now. But he felt so safe and so good, you were having a hard time reminding yourself of all the reasons why staying here with him was a bad idea.

And there were many.

“Yeah,” you said with a sigh, finally unlocking your arms from around the doctor and pushing away from him. “I wanted to talk to you about leaving. I need to get back home.”

There was silence in the corridor and then a gust of air that had you instinctively flinching back towards Carlisle.

A soft whoosh and the torch was relit and placed back on the wall from where it’d fallen.

You blinked at the sudden light, eyes trying to focus on Carlise and Aro who were both very close to you.

Neither one of them looked happy.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Carlisle asked Aro after a long moment and you looked at the blond vampire in confusion. First aid kit?

Your eyes flitted down to all the parts of Carlisle you could see. If he had taken care of your attacker, (and a fuzzy memory of Aro saying your mate had done so came to mind), he looked no worse for wear. Why would he need a first aid kit?

“There should be one in the human wing,” Aro murmured after a moment, blood red eyes narrowed at the side of your face.

You made a little sound. Right. Your assailant had scraped you.

“It’s really not that bad,” you muttered, starting to detangle yourself from Carlisle’s lap. Nope. No dutiful mate, no happily ever afters, no knight in shining armor, no doctor to save the day and patch you up like some Lifetime movie.

You just wanted to go home.

Besides, you were pretty sure it had stopped bleeding already. Probably already started to coagulate and close up with how long it took you to get your head on right.

He did not get to play the part of caring mate!

You were grateful he saved you from being drained or from suffocating yourself, but that was as far as your good will extended.

You had to be strong. You were not going to be someone’s second choice!

“If you insist,” Aro said after a moment and a cold hand left your arm. Good. Aro saw your reasoning and agreed with it. Or at least wasn’t going to fight you on it.

You didn’t need another fight right now. You were all done in from the last one.

“Carlisle, my friend,” Aro said suddenly, “why don’t you go and let the rest of your family know what is going on? I will take Y/N here and make sure she gets settled and taken care of.”

Carlisle looked like he was about to argue, but a faint buzzing told you that they were talking vampire speed, and then Carlisle took off down the hall after another long look at you.

You felt all the tension drain from you as soon as he was out of sight.

“Come, Cara,” Aro said from right next to you as he gently lifted you up and into his arms. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Home,” you murmured, eyes closing, “I want to go home.”

“And you will,” Aro promised lowly, “we’ll discuss it when you’re rested.”

[mandadoration]

twenty-six minutes

summary: Is it depraved of you to seek comfort in a reprogrammed Imperial droid?

word count: 1, 956

pairing: k-2so x reader

warnings: smut, fingering, i can’t believe im a robot fucker, im so sorry

a/n: I lost… so much steam halfway through, but I persisted. This one’s for all you robot fuckers out there.

I’m so, so sorry. 

Anyways... back to your regularly scheduled program. 

Read this on AO3

“You’re awfully squirmy.”

K-2SO says it so casually, as if you weren’t rutting yourself against the cold, but quickly warming, metal of his thigh, as if his hands weren’t pulling and pinching at your flesh, pulling you back against his chassis every time you tried to curl into yourself. It’s hard to get leverage; he’s so much taller than you are, and your toes barely brush the floor from where you sit in his lap, worsened by the fact K2 was sitting on the high meeting table, but your face is flushing and pleasure is curling in your belly. The positioning is definitely uncomfortable, but that’s pushed away when he tugs at your nipple in an almost curious manner, pulling a mewl from you. 

“Yeah?” you breathe. “That tends to happen when you’re, ah, in a compromising position.” 

K-2’s limbs are long enough that he’s able to reach over to pull your Rebellion-issued pants off of you, along with your panties, with no trouble, tossing it across the room dismissively. Thankfully, you had the foresight to take off your shirt before, and you make sure it’s still within arms reach if someone were to walk in. K-2 lifts you up enough to hook your legs over his, pulling you flush against him, and spreads his legs so that your legs are forced to follow, and you whine when the cold air hits your pussy. You go to try and cover yourself with your hands, but he swats them away with a sharp slap. 

“‘Compromising’?” K-2 repeats back to you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t think it’s compromising that--” Your sentence breaks off when he threads his spindly fingers through your hair and pulls back until your neck is exposed, giving him more room to run his other hand down your body. You stay frozen in that position when he releases your hair, wincing only a little when a few strands get caught between the joints, letting K-2 use both hands to feel you up, and the shock of the cold metal of his hands makes your brain stutter. “That-- that--”

“That what?” K-2 asks. “That we’re currently in an empty meeting room doing things that will surely put both of us on probation, if not ruin our reputations?” He seems content on poking and prodding at you while he talks, and it seems like every time you have these encounters with K-2SO, he makes it his job to pry new noises from you. And honestly? You don’t even know if K-2 likes you. You think it’s more of a… fascination. Of you yourself or just the mere fact you were an organic, you’re not sure. He doesn’t get anything out of this, besides the fact that you’re nearly powerless against him. He’s enough of a shithead bucket of bolts that you don’t doubt that he gets whatever weird form of droid pleasure from torturing you like this. Still, you’re too shy to bring it up, too insecure that if as soon as you voiced your worries, he would dismiss it and say that you were being stupidly human. 

“I-I guess so, yeah,” you mutter under your breath. You barely manage to smother a yelp when K-2 practically manhandles you into a better position-- probably annoyed that you’re slipping. Which is not your fault, you’d like to add. It’s not your fault K-2SO was all limbs and has no real surface to perch yourself on. 

He’d probably slap you if he heard you say that out loud.

“Probation could, uh, put a damper on things; I’m not… I’m not sure?”

“Is there anything you’re sure of?” K-2 scoffs. He spreads his legs a little wider, taking yours with it, and digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh until you whine. Pleased with the response, he gives one last squeeze before releasing you. 

“A-aren’t you worried we’re gonna get caught?” you hiss at him, jolting when his fingers trail inwards until it brushes against your clit. Maker, you don’t even know what you’d do if you got caught. Your brain is too scrambled right not to think properly, and lying isn’t programmed in droids in case he would have to make up for the fact your brain is quickly turning into mush. K-2 is too much of a character to lie easily anyways. Cassian always complains that he’s not good at acting or lying, but too sassy to keep his mouth shut and let others talk for him. You hear a quiet, internal whirring from K-2 as he almost absentmindedly teases the outside of your entrance. But you know this motherfucker. 

Everything he does is deliberate and intentional. 

“The probability of us getting caught sits at 63% currently,” he says, “and rises with each pathetic moan you give.” He finally, finally sinks one, long digit into your aching hole, simultaneously shoving his fingers in your mouth as you’re mid-moan to cut you off. “46% now.” You want to be mad at him, but he presses down on your tongue to silence you, and you worry that if you spoke up, he’d stop completely. You wouldn’t put it past him to leave you here, aching and wanting. He’s done it before, and he’d do it again. The perks of being a droid is that he doesn’t care or have anything to deal with if your little rendezvous got interrupted. K-2 has nothing to worry about. All he thinks of is the next time he gets to fuck with you, mentally and physically, while you’re out here stressing over every little detail.

“K-2,” you say, garble, really, and thrust your hips up to try and urge him to do more than just lazily thrust his fingers in and out of you. If you could look at him, you’re sure he would be rolling his eyes at you and your lack of patience, but he seems to understand what you’re saying and slips in another finger next to you. You turn your head and spit his fingers out, moaning when he curls his fingers in you. 

“You do know that you tend to be loud when I pleasure you, right?” K-2 asks you bluntly, but he brings his spit-slick fingers down to rub at your clit anyways. 

“Don’t,” you gasp out, kicking your leg out and slipping down a little further, “don’t say like it’s a-a chore.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, “it is a chore.” You frown and try to hoist yourself back up. 

“Then why do you even--” K-2 shushes you with another curl of his fingers alongside a rough swipe up your clit that leaves you gasping, and you nearly slam your head against his torso as you straighten up. You bite your lip to stop the curse that wells up before it can get out. 

“It’s rude to interrupt people before they finish talking,” he scolds. Then after a moment, “It is a chore,” he repeats, “but I highly doubt that there are other people that would willingly let me do this to them.” 

Of course that was it. You can’t help be disappointed by his answer, but what else had you expected from someone like K-2SO of all people? Or droids, more accurately. Because of course this snarky, sarcastic reprogrammed Imperial droid would only be involved with you because no one else would. Because you’re depraved and desperate for any affection that you’ll find it in a dismissive droid who probably would drop you at any given moment the second you he deems you uninteresting--

“I can practically hear you thinking,” K-2 says, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Are you getting bored?” He slows down his movements, but you grind back down to meet him, and he resumes, stretching and scissoring you open until your toes curl. Eventually, he slips in a third finger, leaving you panting. The metal of K-2’s fingers are hard and unforgiving in your wet heat, but you suppose that’s why it’s all the more enticing. “I asked you a question.”

“No I’m not ‘getting bored’,” you grit out. Despite how you’ve been stuck in your own head and worrying, K-2 is too good at what he’s doing. Just a little more--

“Then what’s the matter?” 

“Nothing’s the matter, K-2, just-- c’mon, a little more?” you beg him. You really don’t want to have this conversation now. You cant your hips up, and try to look up at him with the best pleading eyes you can muster, pouting your bitten lips. 

“Something is obviously the matter,” he complains, looking down at you, but he speeds up and rubs your clit in a way he knows you like, forcing a gasp from you. “Remember to be quiet or we’ll get caught.” You bring a hand up to cover your mouth, the other to play with your breast as you focus on the wet sounds filling the air, the way K-2 is tireless in his movements, at how exposed and filthy you must look right now, having an Imperial droid finger fuck you in an empty meeting room at a Rebel base--

You keen high in your throat when you cum, and this time you actually do slam your head on the metal of his chassis. Instinctively, you try to bring your knees together as K-2 keeps insistently touching you as you ride out your orgasm, but your legs are still hooked around his, and he’s unmoving as you shake in his lap. 

“Twenty-six minutes,” K-2SO notes, then he picks you up by hooking his arms underneath your armpits, and sets you on the cold meeting table before handing you your shirt. 

“What?” you breathe out. Your head is still spinning as you try to get your bearings, and at least the cold of the table jolts you back to your senses a little. 

“It took you twenty-six minutes to reach orgasm this time,” he clarifies. K-2 bends down to pick up your discarded pants and underwear and tosses them at you. You barely manage to catch it before it smacks you in the face. 

“And that’s significant because… how?”

“Your average time to reach completion is twenty-three,” K-2SO says, once again, like that was the most obvious thing in the world. “So something was on your mind.” You sigh and tug on your pants. “You’re not a very good liar.”

“K-2, I really don’t want to talk about this right now,” you say to him, and you can’t help it, but your tone is short despite how your hands are still racked with the occasional tremor. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he says dryly, watching you as you button up your shirt. You shoot him a nasty glare, but re-lace your boots and use the reflection of the smudged meeting table to make sure you looked presentable. Your hair is a mess and your face is flushed, but you doubt anyone would bring it up if you encountered them in the halls on the way back to your room. “If you ask me--”

“Well, I didn’t, so shut it, K-2,” you snap at him. You stomp towards the door before you can lace your other boot. “Go find Cassian and bother him for a while.” You’re being cold and just downright a bitch to K-2SO, you know, and you don’t doubt that he’ll vaguely tell Cassian about it, but your nerves are still buzzing and high strung, and you really, really don’t want to have this talk with him right now. If K-2 knew what was good for him, he’d leave it alone.

And as you shut the door behind you, you hear him say, “Ah, of course. Cassian. As if he’d listen to me.”

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore @mudhornmando  @pedrosdoll​ @creamysacrilege @blondecity @satans-tongues @skinny-macncheese @mrsparknuts @eupphoriaaa @talesfromtheguild

[cakers-2000]

~Time Flies~ (Chuuya X Fem!Reader)

I’m just really proud of how this came out so please enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could remember the day you met Chuuya Nakahara like it was yesterday.

You were new to the Port Mafia. Well, sort of new.

You had hung around the Port Mafia plenty of times in your young life. Your father was their lowest ranking member Oda Sakunosuke so you had already been introduced to at least Ango Sakaguchi and the suicidal maniac himself Dazai Osamu. You hung around Dazai quite a lot, he was around your age and he always seemed to be hanging around your father so it wasn't too long before some kind of relationship started to bloom between the two of you. It wasn't too long either before you found yourself being invited to join the Port Mafia. And it again wasn't too long before you accepted and joined the organization.

Your fighting was trash, but you spoke extremely eloquently and so you became a low ranking spy. Gathering information would be a cinch, but you'd have to work on your fighting skills.

But it took a few more years before you met Chuuya.

Even at the age of 15 he was loud. Arrogant and a bit of a show off. but despite that you strangely found yourself drawn to him. But why?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first he was rather cold to you. When you tried to introduce yourself he shrugged you off, merely replying to your enthusiastic hello with a 'piss off'.

It wasn't the best first greeting.

But you persisted.

You made it a personal mission to bug the boy at least once every day and sure enough, your dumb idea worked. He began to reciprocate your greetings and would even hold conversation with you though most of the time he looked extremely uninterested and spoke in a monotone and bored voice.

But on very rare occasions you would see his lips curve into a smile as he listened to you ramble on and on. True smiles of Chuuya joy were very rare and hard to come by.

Though it did take an awful lot of time, your relationship with Chuuya Nakahara began to form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He's gone (Y/N). He's fucking gone."

You perked your head up at the sound of Chuuya stumbling into your bedroom. You hadn't even invited the boy through the front door, but you only sighed to yourself. Of course he would just let himself in. He leaned himself against the door frame, bottle of wine in one hand while his other hand held onto his phone with a tight grip.

"Chuuya are you okay?"

You cautiously approached the older boy with nothing but concern in your eyes. He swayed precariously back and forth, ready to topple over at any moment.

"That asshole left without saying a word."

The closer you got to him the stronger the scent of alcohol became. The bottle he currently held hadn't even been opened yet, but he was drunk off his ass.

"Chuuya, maybe you should lie down."

"I don't need to lie down, I need to get a hold of that bastard. How could he just leave me like that?"

His words were slurred. He attempted to take an angry step forward but nearly fell. You panicked, letting out a small 'eep' and ran in front of him so that he could fall in your arms rather than on the hardwood floor. He didn't move himself from your grip and the bottle in his hand fell to the floor, though thankfully it didn't so much as crack.

"Are you... Are you talking about Dazai?"

"Who else would I be talking about? That no good dirty..."

His voice became muffled as he turned his head forward so that he was practically speaking into your chest and you let out a shaky sigh, your cheeks a bright red. Jesus Christ why me?

You attempted to stand the boy back upwards but his arms wrapped themselves firmly around your waist as he once more turned his head to the side.

"I just need a drink. Juuuuuuust one, then I'll go find that damn asshole and teach him a lesson."

"Chuuya you've already had a drink."

"I just need oneeeeee."

"Chuuya you're drunk."

He shot his head backwards so that he was locking up at you, a look of offense on his features. "I'm not drunk. I haven't even had a... a... a drip."

You couldn't help but laugh at his slurred and broken speech. "You mean drop."

He giggled to himself, finding something amusing but you had no clue what he was laughing about.

"Ooooookay, we're putting you to bed."

This time he didn't fight against you, his body seemed to agree and you helped him stumble over to your bed and helped him lay down before throwing the covers on top of him.

He was out the second his head hit the soft pillow. You smiled slightly at the sight. He looked so peaceful as he slept, nothing like the loud and cocky man that you knew when he was awake. You let out a sigh and grabbed the book you had been reading from off of the comfy mattress and shook your head, preparing to spend the rest of your night on the couch.

"You're lucky I love your ass."

You would never in a million years utter those words to him while he was awake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Chuuya I swear to god if you say one more fucking word..."

He really did test your patience sometimes.

"You're a fucking idiot you know that?"

And sometimes his words could hurt.

"Excuse me!? How am I the idiot!? You're the one fucking bleeding out because you won't go to a fucking hospital!"

"You're the one who wouldn't move! What kind of dumbass sees someone aiming at them with a fucking gun AND STAYS IN THE SAME SPOT!? You're lucky I was there to save your ass!"

"I had things under control!"

You felt his arm, that was currently swung around your shoulders, tense as his anger rose. "Under control!? He was going to shoot you! They had you found out! How is that under control!?"

"I COULD'VE HANDLED IT!"

You both froze for a second. It took a lot for you to lose your cool, especially for you to lose it at him. In fact, that was the first time you had ever screamed at him like that. You turned your head away from his gaze, instead looking on the other side of you.

"I don't need you guys babying me like my dad did alright? I can take care of myself..."

He snickered to himself and you turned to glare at him but found that he had a smile on his face. And he was laughing.

"What the hell is so funny!?"

"I don't 'baby you'."

"Wha- YES YOU DO! You're the biggest culprit asshole! God I can't even go on my own mission without you trailing me!"

"(Y/N) I'm not an idiot." His gaze fixed directly on you, somewhat harsh and you looked everywhere but at him. "I know what you are and aren't capable of. You don't have the skills yet to be taking on jobs without any kind of protection. It's not babying you."

"Oh come on Chuuya! I've been in the same rank since I was 16! Mori's never going to let me go out on my own!"

"Because you aren't ready." He gestured down to his stomach, the wound still clear and he grit his teeth as he started to move the both of you forwards again. "This is clearly a testimony. What were you going to do if I hadn't been there?"

"Well..."

"Exactly."

You sighed and fixed your gaze onto the ground, falling into silence now as you couldn't argue against his words, though he could tell you were still upset.

"I guess... I do KIND OF baby you."

You smiled a tad bit and turned to face him, winking towards him with a cheeky smile. "It's cause you love me huh?"

You had never seen his face so red before.

"NO! THAT'S NOT IT! I just... I just think Oda would've appreciated it..."

"You barely knew my dad Chuuya."

"IT'S NOT BECAUSE I LIKE YOU DUMBASS! God I never should've even said anything to begin with!"

You only laughed at his hostile and angry tone and listened to him yell at you as you steered him in the direction of the nearest hospital. There was no way in hell you were going to let his stubborn ass get away from receiving treatment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long after your visit to the hospital and Chuuya had gotten himself stitched up that he confessed his feelings to you, and your romantic relationship truly blossomed.

You were surprised to find that most of the Port Mafia supported the two of you, and even more surprised to find that there was a certain Executive that didn't support you.

"I'm busy you know."

You smiled cheekily as you sat in his lap, holding onto his cheeks as you nuzzled his nose with your own. Normally in the office setting he would push you away, he'd barely hold your hand in front of his fellow Executives and subordinates but you were sat in his own personal office, in a space all your own.

"I went for a walk today. You'll never guess what I found."

"You want to bring another cat home?"

You nodded and pressed your forehead against his own, the cheeky smile still there. "How did you know?"

"(Y/N), we don't need another cat."

"But Chuuya she was an old lady! It's harder for the older cats to find a home!"

"No (Y/N)."

You pulled your face away from his and crossed your arms over your chest, slightly pouting. "Oda would've let me bring her home..."

He chuckled at your pouty tone and moved his face closer to yours, clasping your hands in his own but stopped at the creaking sound of his door opening. His smile instantly fell to a thunderous glare and he looked over your head to see who had interrupted your moment without so much as a knock.

"What do you want, Old Lady?"

There was only one person Chuuya called Old Lady. You turned yourself around to see Kouyou standing there, her pink kimono sleeve covering her mouth as she gave the two of you a disapproving stare.

"Chuuya, what are these rumors I hear?"

His hands fell to your waist and he gently pushed you to the side. You got the hint and stood up off of his lap and instead sat on his desk.

"Rumors?"

Her eyes fell to you, the disapproving look worsening and you couldn't help but feel a tad bit self conscious.

"If a Mafia Executive is going to be fooling around with anyone, shouldn't it at least be with another Executive? Not a..." Her eyes stayed fixed on you for awhile and you could tell by Chuuya's balled up fists that he was already irked. "Not a subordinate?"

"My personal life has nothing to do with you. What gives you the right to-"

"Chuuya."

She interrupted him mid sentence and he grit his teeth. You could hear him audibly growling in anger. You placed your hand on top of one of his, hoping to calm him though it seemed to do nothing or very little at all.

"I practically raised you from the age of 15 onward. I think I know what and who is best for you. And it's not..." She pondered in her head for a bit, seeming to find the right words but sighed. "Her."

You frowned at her harsh tone. "Hey..."

"She simply isn't good enough for you Dear. I raised you to only accept the finer things in life did I not? There are plenty of females out there worth your affection, but she is not one of them. A subordinate is equal to a peasant. An executive is equal to a king. A peasant and a king just don't belong together."

You couldn't lie. Her words hurt. You stared down at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes that had refused to leave your form since she first entered the room. The more she talked the more anger that festered within him until he popped.

"SHUT UP!"

She was shocked at his outburst and finally drew her eyes away from you and onto him. "Excuse me?"

"I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I get to choose who is and isn't best for me, it isn't your place. You may have raised me but that doesn't mean I have to give a shit about your opinion. I'm not going to tolerate you talking shit about my girlfriend and spewing bullshit about how she 'isn't good enough for me'. That's nothing but bullshit lies." He let out a scoff, and pointed towards his office door that had still been left open. A few subordinates had their heads poked around the doorframe, watching the scene unfold before them. "Get out."

Kouyou stared at him in obvious shock, though not moving an inch. His temper was already shot. The red aura of his ability surrounded his body and the floor around him crumbled to pieces.

And she finally got the message. She sauntered out of the room, not without giving you one last disapproving stare and closed the door behind her.

You cautiously got up off of the desk as the aura faded away and wrapped your arms around him tightly in both a way to calm his nerves and to say thank you. He instantly hugged you back, allowing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry..."

Though your voice was muffled he could still hear you speak. "It's okay Chuuya, it's not your fault. I never really liked Kouyou anyways."

He chuckled as your breath hit his skin and nuzzled your hair with his nose. "I know but... You shouldn't have had to listen to that in the first place."

You smiled and moved so that you were facing him and grabbed his face in your hands. You placed a sweet kiss on his lips, lingering for a second when you pulled away as you saw a rare smile fall onto his face. "I'm just glad you stuck up for me..."

"Well I wasn't just going to let her get away with running her mouth."

You giggled and kissed his cheek before resting your head on his chest, your smile only growing as his arms hugged you tighter in a protective embrace. "I love you Chuuya."

"I love you too Princess."

~~~~~~~

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