#since i already sent in 'fade' fill earlier

[ailithnight]

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

[sheloveshp]

Heart Vessels - Harry James Potter x fem!reader

summary: where harry and you spent a night at his dorm as a couple. Both of you are very vocal about your feelings and share what’s in your hearts, connecting you two.

masterlist

One could say that there has never been a time in your life where you were not happy when Harry, your beloved boyfriend, was with you.

That’s not exactly true though. Your hearts became intertwined the moment you both confessed your undying love to eachother when you were just 15. Therefore whenever Harry felt sad, you were sadder. When he was mad, you became the maddest witch in Hogwarts, ready to burn down your entire school to find out what made him upset.

When he was happy, you were the happiest. Smiling from ear to ear when seeing the boy who lived, live.

Today was one of those days. Harry had been at breakfast almost radiating positive energy and happiness off of him. Everyone could tell, even you when you came into the great hall for dinner.

As soon as you stepped in a hexed note came flying your way. The way the paper was folded, gave away who the sender was.

You looked across the hall to find your boyfriend already staring at you. Harry waved at you and gestured you to open the note. He already has an empty seat next to him, waiting for you to join.

“My dorm, after dinner!” read the note and you laughed to yourself at his goofiness. You took the paper into your robe and walked to your seat…next to harry.

“Hi, Baby! How are you?” Harry got out of his seat to greet you while hitting his knee getting up. You kissed his flushed cheeks and reciprocate the hug. “Harry, my love you know I will always sit next you.” refering to the little note he sent you eagerly. You loved Harry so much and his little gestures he did to show you his eager love for you and only you.

“I know, I was just so excited because we finally get to spend the Holidays together.” Harry stretched out his hand for you to sit on the bench. He followed right after you and you kissed his cheek again for his cuteness.

After many years at Hogwarts, Harry finally got the Dursley’s to agree to let him stay at school for the winter holidays.

Holidays were usually awful for both of you because of the forced lack of communication since the Dursley’s barely allowed Harry to receive letters.

When he told you he’d be staying for the holidays you were over the moon and couldn’t wait to finally spent time with the love of your life.

Weirdly enough this years Hogwarts Express would be leaving the train station for London at night, so the students will be home for Christmas eve.

Both you and Harry finished your food while sharing stories, food and touches here and there.

After 2 years of being with him your love has never faded. Still with every feel of Harrys presence your hurts jumps.

Finally, both of you left the great hall and went towards the boys dormitories before Harry stopped you.

“Love, you forgot this.” He pulled out the invisible cloak and put it over your head before stealing a peck. “can’t have anyone disturb our time together.”

With a skip in his step both of you finally arrived at his dorm. Thankfully, Ron had already left therefore, you had two whole weeks of sleepovers in front of you with your favorite boy.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your dorm Harry.” you take in the beautiful scenery of the snow falling softly outside his window. The scent of Oranges and Cloves filling the air. Reminds you of the amortitia potion you brewed in class a few years earlier.

“Maybe just every time you come here when Ron isn’t here.” He chuckles putting his hands on your waist and like muscle memory you immediately put your hands around his neck and laugh softly. Your faces merely inches away from you.

The whole air was full with love. No sexual Tension, no. Purely the great love between Harry Potter and Y/n L/n that could crush mountains.

“Well, it can’t be said enough my Love.” You close the distance between you and carefully kiss his soft lips. Harry hugged you even closer and kissed you back.

This was a kiss full of admiration and softness reserved only for eachother. After a while both of you pull aways and stare into eachothers eyes. Out of Shyness both of you started laughing softly while catching your breath. Once the laughter quiet down you speak out.

“I’ll grab the my PJs out of that sleep over bag I have laying around here somewhere and we’ll continue this in bed. I am so tired, baby.” You huff putting your hands on his shoulders as you put your head in the crook of his neck and leave a soft peck there.

“Alright, my love.” Harry says pushing you towards the bathroom to finally have you in his arms for more than five minutes.

10 minutes later you walked out of the bathroom finding your Harry on his bed.

As mentioned before, Harrys love language is acts of service. That’s why you already found a bottle of cold water on the bedside table for you. Not to cold as it is winter and Harry doesn’t like it when your sick. Not because he won’t take care of you but because you, yourself hate being sick.

Also a cup of tea, that isn’t too hot for since harry doesn’t want you to burn your tongue. Since he made you hot tea once while you were pinning at eachother, causing you to burn your tongue he has never once been not cautious when handing you, your tea.

“Finally, Baby I’ve been sitting here for ages.” Harry light up like a puppy once he saw you getting nearer to the bed.

“Darling, i was gone for 10 minutes.” You said as Harry put the covers on you, that he had already put aside for you earlier.

“I know and that’s 10 excruciating minutes too long.” Harry said almost whining as he snuggled you under the blankets.

“Do you really love me that much?” You said snuggling into his side and leaving pecks on his cheek after every word.

You already knew the answer to this question. Harry loved you and would kill and die for you with no afterthought. You know this because you would do the same. Nevertheless, you couldn’t get enough of him saying it.

“Baby, are you crazy?” Harrys blue eyes piercing through yours. “Everytime you leave me I feel this sting in my heart. As if the vessels in my heart are sticking to yours and every time you move a way one of those vessels just rips apart.” He finished

speaking as he starts to plant soft kisses all over your face. Honestly you were never that shy or speechless with Harry but this time he really did it.

You gathered your thoughts before you spoke. Before you softly cupped his cheeks to make him look into your eyes again.

“Harry. You’re the only person that understand me. I feel the same heart aching sting whenever I do not see your beautiful smile and sky blue eyes next to me. And with every “I love you” you say when we reunite I feel those vessels in our heart reconnect.”

Harry was honestly also at a loss for words now. He has so much love for you that’s it’s almost overwhelming because he doesn’t know where to start. If he were to pour out his heart that is full of you, it could never be emptied.

The rest of the night the room was filled with shared m “I love you”s and kisses all over eachother.

“I love you.” Harry said with warm and red cheeks.

“I love you.” You tell him both of you feel another vessel reunited with the others heart.

inspired by this great request! thank you so much anon for supporting me and sending that request. harry fluff is one of the best things that happened to this app and i don’t understand why ther is not more of it. :(

[daisynik7]

“Drank In My Cup” by Kirko Bangz for Connie Springer- Comfort + Smut

The lyrics: “Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you” and “That ain't tryin' to love you baby, just fuck you instead” if that’s okay <3

Drank In My Cup

Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: friends-to-lovers trope, implied unrequited love, smut - blowjob, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (missionary), creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names.

Summary: Connie has been in love with you since college when you were living next door to each other in the dorms. He’s consoled you through countless of breakups and heard you in all your casual hookups. It hasn’t been easy for him and after graduation, he decides to move overseas in an attempt to get over you, cutting off all contact without explanation. Three years of radio silence later and the two of you finally reunite. 

Author’s Notes: Inspired by one of AugustInTheWinter’s Patreon exclusive audios. Honestly, so so good, if you have the ability to do so, subscribe to him, it is so worth the money. Anyways, thanks for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I love this song. Enjoy!

If you told Connie Springer five years ago that you wanted to spend the night, he would have agreed, no question. Today, as he anticipates your arrival, he almost regrets saying yes. 

A week ago, you contacted him, asking if you could stay at his place for the weekend while you’re here visiting. He checks the last text you sent him; it was five months ago, wishing him happy birthday. The one before that was exactly a year earlier, another birthday greeting. Your messages were more frequent then, but they gradually faded, probably because Connie never replied to any of them. 

He's not trying to be a dick. He’s just too much of a coward to admit that he’s doing his best to get over you. And if that means ignoring you completely, so be it. At what cost, though? Losing his best friend?

This time, he actually does respond to you. Maybe it’s because after three years of being apart, he finally feels ready to face you again. Tonight will be the test. Is this really the best idea for him?

You knock on his front door, weekender bag in hand, heart beating faster, excited to see him. The last time was graduation when he told you that he’d be moving away to Marley for his new job. He didn’t even tell you that he was applying to companies overseas, so of course, you were shocked. Your friendship hasn’t been the same since. You used to be inseparable; now, you’ve never felt further apart. 

He greets you politely when he answers the door, that familiar face instantly putting you at ease, despite the distance that’s grown between you. “Hey.”

“Hi, stranger,” you say, hugging him with your free arm. He’s tense when you touch him, not like his usual self. That’s one thing you always loved about Connie; how snugly he would hold you in his arms. It’s already awkward, but you continue to smile at him, hoping that whatever this tension is dissipates soon.

He leads you inside, taking your bag, setting it on the floor by one of the closed rooms. “Do you want a drink?”

“What do you have?” you ask, looking around his apartment, trying to find any remnants of your friendship. Pictures, ticket stubs from all the movies you watched together, all the little trinkets you’d get him as gifts for his birthdays. Nothing, there’s nothing in here. It barely looks decorated at all, except for a few posters he’s crookedly hung up.

“I’ve got water and some White Claws that have been festering in there since I moved here. Pick your poison.”

You laugh, happy to hear this side of him. “I’ll take the water, thanks.” You sit down on the couch, not sure where to start. “How have you been?”

He grabs a clean glass, turning the faucet on until your cup is almost filled to the brim. He carefully hands it to you, sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. You shift in your seat, facing him, waiting for his answer. “Good. I’m good,” he says, avoiding your gaze, staring at the floor instead. 

You take a sip of water, expecting him to elaborate more, but he doesn’t. “Do you like living here? In Marley?”

He shrugs. “It’s okay. There’s not that much more going on here than there is in Paradis.”

“Do you think you’ll ever move back home?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, guarded. “I don’t have any reason to, so probably not.”

“Well, I can think of one reason,” you say. “I miss you.”

His jaw clenches, defenses still up. You scoot closer, wanting this distance to disappear, physically and figuratively. You’ve been waiting for this reunion since he left, since he stopped contacting you almost completely. Wanting to finally make it right with him, the way it should have been ever since you first became close to him in college. You knew he liked you; he was always so obvious about it. And yes, deep down, you liked him too. But you were scared of ruining your friendship, of losing your best friend. You were so used to all your relationships ending in a breakup, you were afraid to cross that line with Connie in fear of losing him forever. When you finally mustered the courage to confess to him on the night of graduation, he told you he’d be moving to Marley for work. Because of your cowardice, you ended losing him anyways. But you won’t let tonight go to waste. You’ll do everything you can to salvage this. Even after all these years of distance between you, you won’t make the same mistakes again. 

You close the gap, squeezing next to him on the couch. He glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“I miss you, Connie,” you whine, trying to free his arms from his chest. “Don’t you miss me?”

He shakes his head, relaxing only the slightest bit. “No, I don’t. I’ve worked too hard trying not miss you.”

“What do you mean?”

He finally looks at you, his gaze intense. “I moved because of you. I couldn’t take it anymore, watching you fall in love with every other guy except for me.”

“Connie.”

He unclenches, leaning towards you, face so close you can feel his breath on you as he speaks. “Do you know how hard it was for me? To hear you on the other side of the wall, moaning someone else’s name? And then months later, you’d come crying to me, wanting only my comfort to help you through your breakup. Then the cycle would just repeat over and over, driving me fucking insane because I could never have you for myself. I could only have you when you needed me, when you were heartbroken. Well, it wasn’t fucking fair okay? That’s why I left. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

You stare back at him, wide-eyed, heart thumping loudly in your chest. Quietly, you say, “I’m sorry, Connie. I…I didn’t know.”

He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Why else would you come to me? You knew I was the only guy stupid enough to always say yes to you. So don’t fucking lie to me now and say that you didn’t know. You knew.”

You swallow hard before asking, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why would I? So I can get rejected and ruin our friendship? No. As much as I hated hearing you get fucked on the other side of the wall, I couldn’t stand not having you at all. Pretty fucked up, right?”

You remain still in your seat, unsure how to proceed from this. Eventually, he says, “You can stay here for the weekend, but I think it’s best if we just stop seeing each other after this, okay? It’s better for the both of us if we stop being friends.”

Before he can stand up to leave, you grab his wrist. “Well, good,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be friends anymore either.” You meet his lips with yours for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He melts into you, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, easing into it. Realizing what’s happening, he pushes you off gently, stuttering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You trail down his neck, sucking on his skin to leave love marks. “What I should have years ago.”

“You’re toying with me,” he whispers, closing his eyes, tipping your chin up to kiss you again. “Teasing me like you did all those times in college.”

“I’m not. I want it. I want you.” You lie back on the couch, spreading your legs for him. 

He crawls on top of you, sliding your pants and underwear off simultaneously, dropping them to the floor, salivating at the sight of your glistening cunt, wet with arousal. “Well, too bad. I don’t need you anymore. You won’t get what you want so easily this time. Not after all the torment you put me through. You need a taste of your own medicine first.” He shoves his sweats down, releasing his hard cock from his boxers, stroking it in his fist. With a shaky breath, he whispers, “Come on. Show me how badly you want it.”

You peer up at him, getting on all fours, opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out. He smirks, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his dick, smearing his precum on you like gloss. “Fuck, never thought I’d see you like this.” He guides himself inside you, exhaling deeply as he slides all the way to the back of your throat, cursing once more. You give him what he wants, never taking your gaze off him, guzzling down his cock with each thrust he gives you, bobbing your head along his shaft. 

“Damn, you feel even better than I imagined,” he moans, bucking his hips. After a couple more deep thrusts, you pull off quickly to catch your breath, wiping away the saliva leaking from your lips. “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks in that concerned tone you love so much. He sounds exactly like he did in college, when he would cradle you gently in his arms as you cried about your latest heartbreak, completely oblivious to how much pain it caused him to see you like this. Connie would never break your heart; it took you too long to finally realize this. And maybe it’s too late to fix the damage that’s been done. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. 

You nod silently, reaching for the coffee table to take a sip of water. He wipes the tears from your eyes, brushing them away with his thumbs. “Are you sure?”

You smile at him, sniffling. “I’m sure, Connie.”

His expression is uncertain again. He doesn’t know whether to stay mad at you or be sweet. He’s always been sweet, and that obviously never worked out for him. If he shows you his mean side, will you stay? Does he even want you to stay?

You surround him again with your mouth, sucking on his cock head with your fist wrapped around his shaft. He closes his eyes, indulging in the pleasure, enjoying it a little too much. He won’t deny it; this has been one of his biggest fantasies since college, to see you like this. To feel you moan around his cock. And as much as he wants to continue spitting hurtful comments to you, make you feel guilty for toying with him all this time, his need to pleasure you overtakes him. His most precious fantasy is to finally hear you moan his name, and no one else’s.

He pulls out of you, jerking off while he tips your chin up to face him. “What do you want, huh? Want my mouth on you? Want me to eat out this pretty pussy? Is that what you want? Because I’ll give it to you, if you let me.” He’s desperate for it now, and so are you. So all you do is nod with your mouth still open, needy for it. 

He eats you out sloppily, better than any guy you’ve been with. This is what he wanted, to prove to you that it should have been him all those times. And you regret it, all the useless hookups and casual relationships you put yourself through when you could have been with Connie instead. You come twice from his mouth before you start begging him to fuck you. “Please, baby.”

His eyes widen at the pet name, cock throbbing, ready to burst. “Okay, sweetie,” he huffs, composure wavering. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you want. I’m always giving you what you want.”

You hold him tightly, moaning his name while he fucks you with your legs wrapped around him. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fucking good for me,” he groans, drilling into you hard and fast. “I missed you so fucking much.” He orgasms with you, unloading his cum inside you, filling you up. You kiss passionately as the both of you come down from your highs, relaxing into each other’s arms. 

It’s silent for a moment before you say, “I was going to tell you. On graduation day.”

“Tell me what?” he asks, grazing your lips with his fingers.

“That I liked you, too. And I wanted us to be together.”

He sighs. “But I told you I was moving, so you didn’t go through with it.”

“Yeah.”

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Damn, we are really dumb, aren’t we?”

You giggle, nestling your face into his chest, relishing the familiar warmth. “Yeah, we are.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head, massaging your back. “So, should we stop being dumb and finally do this? The right way?”

You nod, smiling. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

[rreskk]

I saw a tiktok earlier of a woman wearing the lipstick that her boyfriend's mother wears and i'm just saying, the way Trevor would react to that if the reader did this....... 😳

MMMMMMMMMMM... MOTHER ISSUES ;)

Summary: He hasn't seen that type of lipstick in years and it gave him conflicted feelings which you helped resolved.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 2098

The same exact make of her lipstick that garnished this deep red paint, brushing your full lips to pulse into it’s seductive, “plum” pout. The shade, the tint, the colour – it was the exact same to how he remembered her. And you were wearing it, unknowingly. It wasn’t the same lipstick, he’d know. Her one was worn and cracked, yet she always kept the condition great enough to wear and pounce on men who desired the spread of her legs. But at the same time, it was her lipstick. She owned it, that’s all he could think of.

Trevor felt disturbed as his crotch area began to burn with arousal. He was deeply attracted when you applied her lipstick. Your lips, so full and red, he wanted to smother it everywhere. He wanted you to cake his cock red until it faded away with his semen.

“That’s better.” You’d smile and put away your make-up innocently. With blank ignorance, you were blinded to see Trevor’s heart-eyes. He was dead quiet, his breathing racket and intense.

“Yeah.” He simply cracked, staring away as he felt guilty for thinking about her. His heart would sting relentlessly when the images of her appeared within his thoughts. Her lethal tongue insulting and abusing him to a pulp. Trevor shook his head clean and looked back at your red lipstick, wanting to feel this maternal emptiness filled with warm grace. He didn’t need her when he had you.

“I feel refreshed.”

He grunted in response and leaned on his knees, smoking the last of his pipe as he’d hear you push the cluttered bag of make-up away.

The drug didn’t have the capacity to cover his deadened memories of her water-boarding the small boy he once was. He creeped the pipe away, his hand disregarding the smoke that descended from his nostrils. How dare he smoke around a woman? How dare he not compliment your make-up? Where is your foot-stand? Where is your coffee? Where’s your money? Where is his manners?

Trevor’s body rocked back and forth unconsciously as he was in the stream of having an internal panic attack. Your lipstick triggered something highly nuclear. It killed his sensitivity and now he was vigorously begging for the meth to snap him out of this misery. He needed something to cut this maternal displeasure away so he can treat you like a goddess. He’d remember watching his mother’s wrinkled, red lips – the same lipstick you’re wearing – wag and coil as she’d shout his name, disband him from the house, call him “worthless” and would always accuse him of such moral crimes that included mistreatment of a mother, such as herself. But he swore, despite being gaslighted, he swore he’d never mistreat her. She was a woman of strength, and he was a pathetic, perverted little boy –

“Trevor?” You touched his stiff shoulders when noticing how idle he had become.

He dazedly stared at your lips and gave you a weak, creepy smile. His teeth were gritted and his eyes were bloodshot as Hell. He looked like he was straining weights.

“Are you alright?” Your hand gently brushed his cheek, a comforting gesture that sent him into a spiral of agony. So bad he wanted to hold you – so very bad. His mother issues were seeping over shores and he was becoming very hostile with his hands as it would tug on your shirt like a troubled child asking for sugary delights.

“C’mere…” He breathed shakingly.

You’d raise your eyebrows with confusion since your bodies were already close enough, yet he was ushering you closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you proud of me?” Trevor’s voice was hush and dark. His eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring down at your mouth. It made you wonder if you had done something wrong.

“Yeah, yeah…” You assured with a confused smile, “Of course I am.”

“Am I horrible to you?”

“What? – “

“I like your lipstick.” His facial expression changed to one with desperation. His lips quivered and his lap was shaking.

Thinking he was having a reaction to the meth-pipe, your grip on his shoulder tightened and you went to reach for his face.

“Look at me.” You sighed with this tiresome breath. He face fell effortlessly in your palm – which was odd because he was usually fidgety and grumpy when it came to physical affection.

“I’m looking.” He grumbled, not daring to blink.

“What’s going on? You’re twitching. Not in the normal way.”

Trevor whined as he tried to look away. He demanded, through the hassle of getting your hands away, that he was fine. But that didn’t look “fine” to you.

“Trevor, babe, look at me.” You declared.

“I’m looking, for Gods sake!” He was in fact NOT looking.

“It’s okay,” Your soft voice cooed, “I just wanna look at you.”

Trevor’s breath pitched when you spoke to him so gently. He fell back into your hands and stared into your eyes, loving the attention of your maternal care. He smiled a bit.

“I think you need more sleep.” You chuckled as his eye-bags seemed a bit heavier than usual.

“Do I?” He questioned in a love-struct, high volume. As if he was high on Majorana, his eyes were drooping down to your lips again, this tightness developing in his pants. 

“Yeah. No more late nights for you, trouble.” You teased with a small grin.

But he took this seriously. Very seriously. Trevor drooled, blazing his sights upon your full lips (once again) and tauntingly lurking forwards like he was going to kiss you, until he’d swerve away dreamily. You raised an eyebrow at this continuous behaviour before he gave you his typical “I’m horny” smirk.

“Mm, no more late nights?” He repeated and licked his teeth.

“A bit eager, aren’t we?”

“Maybe…” Trevor sputtered. At first, you were getting a bit annoyed when he wouldn’t return your eye-contact since he was too busy ogling your lips.

“Like my new lipstick?” You’d ask.

His eyebrows perked, “New?”

“Yeah. I got it last week. It was popular in the 80s – “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know.” He quickly dismissed before squinting his eyes, “Where’d you get it?”

“Half-price at Ponsonboys.”

“Ponsonboys?” He looked surprised, “It’s expensive? I thought it was…”

“Was what?” You tilted your head.

Trevor sucked in his lips as he always imagined the lipstick being one of the tackier ones. He couldn’t imagine his mother, an ex sex-worker and working-class woman, owning such a gem. Now he understood why she was protective over the appliance. It probably costed her more than his whole education combined, since she refused to pay little to no attention to his wellbeing.

“Nothin’.” He blankly muttered.

You conceived a grin and took his words not for granted as he was lying with the answer right on his face.

“Trevor – “

“It was nothin’!”

“Woah, woah...” You laughed at his defensive outburst, “Easy. I wasn’t going to ask about that.”

“What is it then?”

“Are you okay?” Your face fell serious at your question.

Trevor’s lips gaped open with thoughts furiously linking to his mother again. He glared down at his lap before shaking his head, fingers itching the material of his jeans. You were making it hard for him to forget that comfort of this mature, feminine guide.

Nonetheless, he didn’t say anything. He gave you a blank stare before thumbling forward and smothering your lips with his own. Your eyes widened at this sudden burst of his affection – his hands entrapping you into his body, them clingy fingers fondling the back of your shirt.

And when he pulled away, your red lipstick had stained his mouth, the smudges mainly centred around his bottom lip. Trevor didn’t wipe it away, instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you again. Now that you were prepared, there was no holding back and you returned the amount of passion he gave you. It had you both leaning back against the sofa as the kiss turned steamy. Trevor pulled you on top of him with his arms holding you above. His mouth refused to depart, wanting to feel your lipstick paint his face slickly. Being tightly kept in his eager lap, your hands cradled his head when making out. The love-struck in his veins was growing heavier within his pants as you’d feel the occasional twitch of his erection. So you tugged at the bulge and it made Trevor break away, howling out a painful moan.

You kept your hands there and massaged the achy arousal. His body would jerk around to try and overcome this extreme overstimulation but you gave him a small kiss on the cheek, softly ordering him to lie back and “enjoy”. Of course, you had left your lipstick stain on his cheek in the process, and by the time you had stopped kissing, his face was smothered. He looked ruined by your love – and it was an entrancing sight.

“Gimme! Gimme, now!” He, rudely, demanded with grabby hands as you began trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. Trevor attempted to tug at your hair, with zero audacity – so you gave him a disapproved frown, silencing his untactful tongue that swallowed in fear of disappointing a motherly figure.

You continued leaving imprints of your red lipstick everywhere before you reached the lining of his pants. At this point, his hips were thrusting upwards to meet with you, but you’d hold him down like he was a feral dog. It would earn you a snobby huff from Trevor every once in a while as he was urgently desperate for your lips around his cock.

“Hurry, I want it,” He’d begin playing up again, “Fuck – I’m horny, shit. Gimme it, I need yo – Ahh…” Your breath slowly began to penetrate the revealing skin, making him toss and turn.

“Stop squirming or I’ll make it harder.” You warned when undressing his pants, his pulsing cock (deepened red at the hostage of his cum) standing straight with his body shuddering underneath you.

“Don’t make it harder, mama – “ Trevor was being tormented by the sight of your red lips edging closer to his cock. He stared down, eyes watering, mouth seeping drool.

“I thought you wanted it, baby?” He squeezed his eyes shut at your lustful gaslighting, not wanting to feel allured by the way you’d mentally push him around.

Trevor whined, “I do want it, badly.”

You enclosed any remaining space between your lips and his cock. Your tongue surfaced the tip then brought him in, needily feeding him that pleasure of your wet mouth suffocating his shaky dick. Trevor’s hands dashed to your hair, holding it for support when you’d feast upon him like a vulture and prey. You’d slurp and offer him a variety of noises to feel opposed to, and like the slut he was, he whimpered at every single one.

“Ah, fuck! Mama! Yes!” He moaned and thrusted into your mouth (despite your efforts to resist his naughtiness).

In other words, your gullet was being violated by his desperation. You rocked your head up and down to give him a sensual beating – lips ensuring that the lipstick colour was staining his cock from the length to the width. That garnish deep red devoured his skin-colour and before he could blink, you devoured him as well. Trevor’s thighs clenched when he felt his climax rise. He arched is back and cried out your name, fists clenching onto strands of your hair.

“Fuck, fuck – mama! Mommy! – “ He inhaled sharply before the external orgasm rise. He’d squeal in a high-pitch groan, cum squirting into your mouth and tongue. You held your hands around his cock as it would tremble, making sure every drop of his semen was coming into your mouth as you swallowed the salty fluids hastily.

Trevor continued to cry like a dishearten child. He toyed with his own thin hair and crossed his legs together when you freed his penis from your mouth. You hovered over him as he’d overcome the stimulation, his face dazed and lips wet with his saliva.

“All better now?” You asked, the lip colour faint after using it to colour his body.

He nodded, “Fuck… Yeah, m’better.”

“Wanna cuddle now?”

[semi-imaginary-place]

I played kingdom hearts union x early in its release days like 2016 and i tried really hard to stay up with it but im just not built for the mobile gaming meta which is geared for daily/weekly engagement over the course of years. i've had this problem with every mobile game i've ever tried to get into, i've tried like 10+ and genuinely wanted to get into these games but i just can't. Anyways eventually I couldn't keep up with ux's powercreep and pay to win gacha, and more importantly its rate of story development. UX is like 98% filler content 2% series breaking story revelations and that actual story only dropped like once a year so I'd play for a year to keep my medals semi competitive because story is also gated behind medal strength all to get a 10 second cut-scene that left 50 million questions and eventually i just could justifying playing ux as being worth it. so i quit a few years later and havent touched the game since and now im rewatching the cutscenes and yeah when ux is good its good and that good part is just inundated with filler. I'm rather fond of the artstyle its like little paper dolls and the devs manage to put so much emotion and nuance with those simple animations its one of the several impressive parts of ux.

a list of revelations. the disney worlds the player visits are fictional, projections made from the book of prophecy to collect lux. each union member has a chirithy, chirithys are dreameaters and thus daybreak town is in the realm of slumber, chirithys are tied to their union member. one fades away when their union member is lost to darkness, i assume ephemer's turns a darker shade of gray. quests 362-275 the plot really begins.

quest 401 the first dandelion metaphor. in a fashback to the day the player meets ephemer, ava compares ephemer and other union members to dandelions, wishing to entrust the future to them somewhere far far away. oh this is the beginning of unchained x. wait this is showing an alternate timeline in which ephemer didn't go missing. ah that was a dream

wait. you're telling me the japan exclusive kingdom hearts x doesn't have the same plot as ux. ux isn't a remake of x its a sequel and we're in a timeloop or memory or datascape or something??????? NOMURA! NO! Bad game dev! Bad! STOP PUTTING CRITICAL PLOT INFORMATION IN JAPAN EXCLUSIVE MOBILE GAMES THIS IS LIKE THE 4TH TIME!!!!! uuuuuuuuuuuuuu time to figure out what khx was about.

uuuuuggaisdadf;o;jkal/k so it so yeah ux reuses x content under the premises that player character is reliving their memories but then continues the story. it seems like i played through most if not all of the x content. i got pretty far huh like through the 700s quests. I wonder why they changed the gacha from cards to medals? cards feels more appropriate since its already a recurring motif for kh like chain or memories or luxord.

quest 425: the ava battle. i remember being stuck here for like a month because my medals were too weak and so i had to grind and gacha until they were strong enough bleh. ephemer sent the dream of exploring the tower with the player. ephemer is in a unchained state in another realm. dont know what that means. and if he can send dreams ava says he's close to "that realm". huh

quest 525. got stuck on this one too.

quest 540: i vaguely remember the enemies here were green. i do appreciate how khux is the story of things going from ok to bad to worse. the enemies here look like heartless but they can talk and are seeking lux. also second time player character talks. purple chirithy! i remember you. is the implication here that purple chirithy used to be the dark gray chirithy we saw earlier? ah so those heartless were former union members filled with darkness. i vaguely remember this and that dark chirithy is a nightmare. purple/dark chirity's wielder is close wonder what that means.

quest 555: they speak again! confirming that ephemer is their friend. the player character petting chirithy was a nice touch. union leader implies they killed ephemer eventhough earlier ava said ephemer was in another realm. i joined unicornis btw.

The Player: "And then I met Ephemer. We didn't know each other for very long, but he left a lasting impression. Not all of our memories are good ones; in fact, he even broke one of our promises. No matter what happened, I knew we were still friends. But you took him away from me."

The Player: "I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel hurt. Maybe that means I have darkness in my heart; I don't care."

The Player: "But I can't let you get away with what you did to my friend. Even if I have to fight you, even if I don't stand a chance, even if I may disappear... I will because I know in my heart that Ephemer would do the same if he were here."

The Player: "Master Ira, I mean no disrespect, but this is something I must do."

Ava's dandelions, a hope for the future cast to the wind. seeds to begin anew. yeah this part where the player character chooses to stay stuck out to me when I was playing. first, quest 555 is where the player characters shows real independence and agency from the player, they have their own thoughts and feelings about ephemer and the end of the world. second, that their greatest concern was not with the destruction of the world, the war, or the legacy of keyblade wielder but of the unchosen left to fight and die, and that the player character chooses not to be one of the special.

the recent kh games have really gone far with the fictionality of the narrative. very post modern meta texual like sora "dying"? and existing the fictional world for the non fictional one. "world outside" here is again vague. if daybreak down is indeed a dream realm then why would ava specify that the dandelions are going to train in worlds made of dreams. but if this is a dream then the dandelions are going to the universe of the main series? i mean thats where luxu/braig ended up with the box. i definitely need to read a plot summary when all this is over.

[frostsong]

FADE (v.2)

meteor!wol/euphemie. slight au where euphemie is not the warrior of light, but rather a dragoon in the service of ishgard due to her family’s loss of land and title.

 post-heavensward.

on saying goodbye and leaving some things left unsaid. 

“You have no idea how much I loathed this one.” His eyes are on her back but he can see her roll her eyes as she hoists something old and yellowed up from the chest.

 When she spreads it he can recognize the detailed etchings and intricate patterns of white lace, layered by some sort of heavier fabric that kept it from being completely transparent.  “To think it was here all this time...” He muses with a nod. While he’s no stranger to hearing thoughts that aren’t his own, to being in places he shouldn’t belong, Euphemie never once made him feel excluded. It seemed she had that effect on everyone, and in her sly jokes, dimpled smiles and gentle reassurances he felt needed, wanted. It was the least of what he could expect since being granted solace in Ishgard, but past the chilly initial reception he had proven himself worthy of a name within the city walls, while the rest of the realm was still tentative on claiming him once again as their Warrior of Light.

“It certainly wouldn’t have been my first pick even if I’d known what would happen beforehand,” She shrugged with the dress folded around her forearm, a slip of dusky rose sliding past her shoulders and onto her chest.

“I’m more practical than that.” She gives him a smile, bitter and sweet, like an exhale after remembering a bad memory, and he smiles back.

“...Can I ask you something?” She pivots a step closer, relaxing her arms with the edge of her faded lace dress hover right above her boots.

He nods.

“Your Echo. Have you...ever seen anything with me?” Euphemie stops after another slow step closer, with an expectant gaze that was more curious than anything else. When he looks down and hesitates, she retreats her stare off to the side, feeling a tinge of remorse for bringing back what might have been something less than flattering, even if it could’ve been a memory of her own.

“I mean--you don’t have to tell me exactly what it was you saw, but...” 

“I didn’t see anything.” A relief to them both, and her shoulders sag with a laugh that barely covers a sigh. She’s had more than enough of her own share of troubles, and the last thing he needs is another addition to the weight of the world he has on his shoulders. Euphemie was almost giddy at the idea that she was among the few who wouldn’t be a burden by memory--only by association. And that second part was to be remedied by him leaving the city in short time, leaving her to pick up the pieces with the rest of her countrymen, for both the past and the future.

“When you’re out there...good luck.” She nods, rolling the dress tighter between her arm and chest. He nods in return again, giving her a smile with less shine than her own, but just as warm--maybe he’s learned from the best. The best in Ishgard, anyway. Or so Hilda can attest.

“Thank you...for everything,” He adds, making her blink in quiet surprise.

“though Ser Alberic and Heustienne did much to help pave the way for my training, I woudn’t’ve gotten anywhere had you not been there--” His efforts at a compliment were always sparse, awkward. But endearing nonetheless, and an annoying tug at her heartstrings grows all the more aggravating as he continues.

“--I don’t think I would’ve stood a chance against Nidhogg without your aid.” The wyrm’s name makes her chuckle, a laugh too lighthearted for a fight that held such monumental implications had he not bested him.

“Aid? By helping you with learning how to land...”

She dares a few steps closer, stopping once she’s half an arm’s reach away.

“...or by telling you about Coalline.” Despite his growing embarrassment at how close she is he laughs, gentle and lost in a soft breath.

“Both. Though I think we can both agree on not letting Estinien know.” 

“That’s more on my end. You’re leaving, so you can tell whoever you want that the Azure Dragoon cried over a lost karakul.” She nudges him playfully in the shoulder with a wink, and he grins.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Don’t bother, I know you’re too nice for that.” She waves it off with one hand as she returns to the chest with the messily folded dress, placing it right back where she found it, right back where it belongs.

“What are you going to do with this place?” His hand rests on the entrance of the room she used to call her own, and though the place has seen better days with less dust and cobwebs, all of the city is due for reconstruction, rebuilding, renewal.

“I thought of having a word with the clergy--the good ones, mind you--and having it turned into an orphanage. Think of how happy they’ll be to have a home closer to the Jeweled Crozier!” She beams wide at the thought of the little ones she’d encountered, whose eyes shone like the light of ice sprites when she’d uncovered the candy within her gauntlets. 

“Odile said she would help too, and Hilda--since we’ve done our share of the good, the chances of those with the right ties to the right people willing to give us their aid must be higher than ever. Better to strike while the iron’s hot, as they say?” His smile is warm and wide as he nods in agreement. 

“And you’d better stop by when you visit. I can already feel that they’ll be talking for you months on end--years, even.” The lid of the chest shuts with her twisting the lock to a resounding click.

“You have my word.” 

Her steps feel heavier as she approaches him again, with him pivoting to the side lest she seeks to leave first. The old key rolls uncomfortably between her fingers as she faces him at the foot of the door, lips pressed and twisting in the search for the right words--or at least, the ones she won’t regret. It’s the final moment for a while they’ll have with one another, and they’ve both let too much slip past their fingers to allow for another regret.

Instead, her gaze creeps up the folds of his shirt, the tip of his chin, before settling on his still downcast gaze, and she realizes he’s in the same predicament as herself.

She meant to say his name, plain and simple, but it comes off as more of a question, a plea for attention.

“...Thank you. For everything.” Her chin bobs with the weight of each word, with the thud of her heart. 

He smiles, less wide than before with a more muted shine--but the warmth never diminishes, never fades. 

“And to you as well...Euphemie.” 

She leaves first simply because it’s easier than to watch him do it himself. 

[azsazz]

Come Back

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is late coming back from a mission but you’ve already told your sons that he’d be back tonight. Tantrum’s ensue.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,522

_________________________________________

“Come on my loves,” you nearly plead, “Daddy will be home tomorrow.”

The two young boys pout in their beds, eyes brimming with tears. 

“But you said Daddy would be home tonight,” the older of the two wails, slamming his little fists on his bed in protest. Tiny shadows flutter from his hands and fade into mist. Wren, older than his brother by a year, has started to manifest shadows like his father. He couldn’t control them yet, was scared when he first saw them, then remembered his father’s shadows. You’d never seen the little boy so proud, bragging to his cousins that he was ‘just like Daddy.’

You’re exhausted. Taking care of your two sons while Azriel was away on a mission was never easy, but paired with the fact that they hadn’t napped well earlier in the day because they were too excited about their father coming home today, getting them to go to sleep wasn’t an easy feat. 

The Shadowsinger must be sidetracked. Before he had left for his assignment, he mentioned the timeframe he thought he would be back by, and you had made the mistake of telling your sons that he’d return in time to tuck them in for bed tonight.

As the younger one bursts into tears, seeing his brother’s dewey eyes, you shut your own tight for a moment, thinking of all the relaxing things you can muster. In all honesty, you’d like to start crying right alongside them. You hadn’t had a single moment of peace since he left. And sure, the rest of the Inner Circle were around to help, but you never liked to hassle them asking for help.

“Babes,” you try gently, pulling Baz – the three year-old – into your arms and shushing him lightly, soothing your fingers through his dark hair and rocking him softly in his bed. Wren climbs out of his own and into his brothers, curling up close to your side. “You know your father has to work. We’ve talked about this.”

“We want him here,” Wren cries into your shirt, “With us!”

Baz wipes the dripping snot on his arm, “Yeah!”

“And he will be here with you tomorrow,” you explain again for the fourth time since they found out he wasn’t going to be back in time. “And I know that he’s missing you little monsters too,” you say playfully, attacking your two sons with kisses. Their tears turn into cries of laughter and you’re thankful, would much rather be dealing with happy babies than sad ones. 

You get them back into their own beds eventually, settling them down with one more story before you’re moving towards the door to turn the lights out.

“Mommy?” Wren’s voice is timid, and when you turn around he has his blankets pulled up tightly to his chin, his big hazel eyes staring at you with concern.

“Yes baby?”

“Promise Daddy will be back tomorrow?”

Your heart clenches, thinking for a moment where there could be a day your mate is sent off on a mission that he doesn’t come back from. The thought makes you sick to your stomach. 

Fortunately, you don’t have to respond, don’t have to lie to your child or think of a way to avoid answering his question because a familiar body is sweeping into the room, a loving smile on his face. “What if he’s here right now?”

The squeals pierce your ears, the brothers climbing out of their beds and running into Azriel’s arms. You try and plaster a smile to your face as he sends his shadows over to you, acknowledging that he knows you’re here too. One tugs at your wrist, urging you to join the hug but your stomach is in knots, stuck thinking about what would happen if the Shadowsinger didn’t return from an assignment.

Your mate's eyes look at you with concern, his shadows probably have already filled him in on the look on your face right before he entered the room, or you could have sent that feeling down the bond to him by accident. 

You and Azriel had a pretty open way of communicating when it came to the bond, aside from when he was on missions, the bond was an open passageway, free for you to send any and all feelings down whenever you wanted. 

The fact that your walls were still up now that he’d returned has him a bit worried. 

The frustration, the exhaustion, the fear, have all built up, choosing to make their appearance now. You know you should’ve taken up Cassian’s offer to train the other day when you had started feeling worn down by your sons, hell, you could’ve even had the Warlord wrestle around with the two tiny half-Illyrians you birthed. You should’ve taken time for yourself, but now it was too late.

You tug your wrist away from the shadow curled around it. Your motion isn’t harsh, the opposite, in fact. Another sign to your mate that something is bothering you.

“Go, get in bed,” the Spymaster ushers gently, nudging the babes away. Baz stumbles as he races by you, straightening himself with a hand on your leg and a slobbery smile aimed up at you. 

It settles your heart a little.

Azriel places a hand on your cheek stroking lovingly, his eyes soft, questioning. You shake your head slightly, trying to offer a sense of reassurance down the bond, but nothing. He kisses you tenderly on your forehead and you let yourself clutch at the leathers he still wears, sans the weapons. Breathing in his scent like a breath of life, it helps calm you further. 

“I drew a bath for you,” he whispers, and he can see just how worn out you are by the look on your face. “Go ahead, I’ll take care of them.”

Your shoulders sag in relief. You should ask him if he wants you to stay, to help tuck in the stubborn babes behind you, but you’re so thankful to finally get a moment alone that you don’t even offer.

Kissing the little boys on their foreheads with warnings of being good for their father, you’re leaving, making your way across the hall and into the bathroom. Your heart melts. There’s flower petals and candles all around the tub that’s steaming with hot water and smells like eucalyptus. 

You strip out of your own clothes, not caring where they land as you glide towards the inviting water. You dip your foot in and sigh, it’s the perfect temperature. 

Settling in, you lean your head back and close your eyes, the tension ebbing from your body. You inhale the luxurious scent, hold, exhale, and then inhale again. You haven’t felt like you’d even had time to get cleaned up properly. Baz was at the phase where he’d bang on the door and cry constantly if you or Azriel weren’t somewhere nearby. 

And now with Wren showing signs of having shadows of his own, your life was about to become a lot more hectic.

The Shadowsinger slips into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. You watch him shove his way out of his leathers, admiring his sculpted body as he does so. You make room for him and he settles in behind you, pulling you back to lean into his chest.

The two of you just sit for a moment, relishing in the warmth from both the bath and the bond, your bodies pressed close, right where you belong. Having him back is comforting, and everytime he returns is like the day when your bond made itself known, the air catching in your throat and feeling like you can finally see clearly.

“What’s wrong?” he eventually murmurs against the skin behind your ear, pecking you on the neck.

“Wren asked me to promise you’d be here in the morning,” you explain quietly, trailing a hand aimlessly up and down his forearm that’s draped around you. “And it had me thinking,” your breath hitches, “What if you don’t come back to us some day?” 

His arms tighten around you instantly, holding you closer to his chest. His shadows go still and it’s completely silent.

“I’ll always come back to you three.” It sounds like a promise, but the words don’t settle that feeling in your stomach. They aren’t a guarantee. 

You swallow back the tears in your throat. “You don’t know that.”

He flips you around in his arms, taking your face in both of his. His eyes are as scared as yours, and it’s possible he’s thought of this before, on his own. 

“Then I’ll quit.” 

“You can’t,” you protest, shaking your head.

“Why not? I’ve been doing this for nearly six hundred years now,” he says, “I should be allowed to retire.” 

“You wouldn’t handle retirement well and we both know that Az.” You trace the expanse of his face, thumbing over his thick eyebrows, his soft lips. “I worry. The kids worry. It’s a lot.”

“I know it is darling,” he catches your wrist, kissing it harshly, “But my family means more to me than any job ever will.”

[fwkei]

Excited for what's to come

Rindou Haitani x fem!reader (fluffly, slightly angst, light mention of nfsw)

yass my 2nd request 🥳🥳ik that i can respond to the questions directly but it wont let me put a tittle if i do so i'm just gna do my requests like this, hopefully the person sees it, AND I HOPE U ENJOY! I had kinda a tough time with this ngl also sorry for any mistakes

CW/TW: Mentions of harassment, mentions of drugs

WC: 7.2k

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Your mouth parted in shock as anger filled you looking at his grinning face. You never thought you’d ever see this man’s face again. And you almost didn’t recognize him. But the second he spoke...you knew it was him...and he knew it was you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you said under your breath, bringing your hand to your head as he walked over, hands in his pockets smiling.

“Been a while, huh?” he said tilting his head at you

The familiar sight of his cocky smile sent you back, way back to when it all started between you two. Way back to when you were only 15.

You were walking home after finishing a day of school and club activities. It was mid year, finals just finished up and spring break was coming along. You felt relieved that you could finally have 2 weeks of rest, and not worry about your underclassmen and schoolwork. Since tomorrow was the last day of school, you decided you’d make a stop at the corner store. To just grab some snacks, maybe even dinner…

You held your book bag close to your body, as you opened the doors of the store. It was cold inside, you tucked your arms under each other to create some friction for warmth, as you walked around a bit you saw a group of 4 boys who all had matching uniforms, but not school uniforms. Just delinquent uniforms. You quickly glanced to see the sign of their gang, after a bit of looking, you didn’t recognize it, and decided to brush them off.

They looked around the same age as you, maybe a year older. They stood crowded in front of the cooler section laughing and talking pretty loud which already annoyed you a bit since you wanted to get a cold drink. You saw them fill their baskets with different types of beers and candy. You sorta cringed. After grabbing a few snacks and microwavable dinner you walked over to the cooler section, avoiding their presence completely, not interested or bothered by delinquents.

It was common for delinquents to be around where you lived. You often didn’t really like them, since most of them just trashed the streets and caused trouble for others, but you liked the ones that consisted of kids who just wanted to have fun and didn’t cause any harm. But definitely not groups like this, who are always waiting to just ruin someone's day.

“Excuse me-” you said avoiding eye contact, but not in a shy way

“Oh?” said one smiling

“What do you need, pretty?” he asked as his friends slightly moved out of the way, and you looked at him

“..just a drink.” you said smiling, trying to hide your irritated face while pointing to the door they were blocking

“Ahh, my bad.” he said moving out of the way, opening to door for you smiling foolishly

“Thank you.” you said giving a closed eyed smile before lowering your self slightly to grab your favorite drink

After grabbing it, you placed it in your basket and squeezed your way through the boys to get to the cashier. You smiled at the old man behind the counter as he scanned and bagged your items.

“Having dinner all by yourself? C'monn, let me accompany you, huh sweet?” said the leader walking over to you with that same smile on his face while licking his lips making you cringe

“Not interested.” you said not looking at him and grabbing your stuff, turning to walk out

“Aw c'mon..” he said following behind you as his friends dropped their stuff on the floor to follow their boss

You couldn't help but to feel a little bit worried for your own well being. When hearing them call out for you, as you so desperately tried to ignore it and go home. Still by the store's vicinity and still walking you heard him come closer and stand in front you, inching closer and closer to you making you back up with confused and worried eyes

“Don’t ignore me~” he said bringing his hand to twirl your hair

“I said I’m not interested.” you said bringing your hand to push you hair down so that he could no longer touch it

“You think that matters?” he asked as his smile faded into a smaller one but more devious

Suddenly you felt his finger tips touch your waist, and before it could escalate any further your fight or flight kicked in, you quickly raised your hand and slapped the male in front of you, and hard. Causing his head to turn a bit and arms drop from your body. You furrowed your eyebrows in anger as his hand traveled to his red cheek.

“Were you never taught that when a girl says no it means no?” you asked

You saw rage fill the man's eyes, as he brought his hand up to hit you back, both your heads turned to hear another person's voice.

“Really?” is all he said with one hand in his pocket, and the other taking out the lollipop in his mouth as he walked over with a blank expression

“The hell are you?” asked the male in front of you putting his hand down

“You’re gonna beat down on a girl for saying she doesn’t want you? Huh, ugly?” he said smiling as your eyes widened in shock at his insult to the man

Is he stupid? There's 4 guys here and he just insulted their friend. 4 v 1? The odds don’t play in his favor, and there wasn’t much you could do to help him other than call for help. But you couldn’t help but smile a little at his remark, You turnt your head to the side trying to contain your laugh.

“You laughing?” asked the male in front of you turning his rage filled gaze to you

“Yeah she’s laughing, isn't he an ugly guy?” asked the boy with blonde hair and blue highlights with glasses, grinning

“..yeah.” you said holding back your laugh and looking over at the boy, as he looked into your eyes with a look letting you it would all be okay

The male in front of you grunted as he raised his arm to hit you again, but the boy next to you blocked it with ease, signing. He held his arm steady blocking the arm from touching you. He placed his lollipop back in his mouth with one hand, then took off his glasses, turning his gaze to you. You felt your face get hot. He was just so...cool?

He softly smiled and handed you his glasses.

“Hold these for me?” he asked as you nodded your head ‘yes’ looking at him in complete awe

“Thanks-”

“I’m right here!” yelled the male coming in with another hit, you quickly moved out of the way to let him have the floor.

You held the boy's glasses in your hands as you watched him swiftly and easily doge the males attacks, and then it was all over. A single punch from the boy knocked the leader out, as he fell to the floor. Your eyebrows raised, excited.

“Isn’t he your leader? You guys are just gonna stand there?” asked the boy using his foot to turn over the body on the floor as his follower simply just ran away from the scene. The boy walked over to you, twirling the lollipop in his mouth. He took it out, throwing it into the trashcan near you before tilting his head giving you a slightly cocky smile...that you actually liked.

“Thank you.” you said bowing your head slightly at him

“No worries.” he said as you brought your head back up, still looking at him in awe

He noticed. He could tell you were stuck in awe, it was obvious by the look in your eyes. He’s never seen himself make a girl look at him like that, and honestly it made him prideful. But also fuzzy inside since he was able to make you nervous. He watched you earlier, noticing you had more of a calm personality, but the way you were now was different. He could practically feel the heat that radiated from your face. It really made him...happy? Usually all the girls he met fawn over his older brother...and it was nice having some attention for once.

He just kept looking into your eyes for a solid minute, you tried your very best to keep eye contact but it seemed as though he was lost in thought, so you looked off to the side and held out your hand with his glasses in it.

“I- uh..here by the way..” you said still looking off the side hoping he wouldn't notice your flushed face

“Thanks.” he said smiling, taking them from your hand and putting them, blinking his eyes a few times to adjust to it.

“Do you live around here? I can walk you home.” he said putting his hands into his pockets

“Yeah, just up the street. But you don't have to, really! I wouldn’t want to burden you.” you said bringing your hands up frantically at the nice gesture

“I don’t mind, honest. Here...just come with me, I gotta buy a few things first..” he said as his eyes traced your face

“Sure.” you said smiling as you both started to walk to the store

You only followed him around like a lost puppy, as he picked up a few drinks and snacks. Once he finally finished and paid, you both walked out, and started walking to your home.

“What’s your name?” you asked looking at him

“Rindou, or Rin is fine.” he said turning his gaze to you

Every. Single. Time. He looked in your eyes, it was like you were lost in trance. Although it was dark out, you could still so clearly see his eyes, they were so perfect to you. But what you didn’t know at the time was he felt the same way. He finally had someone's eyes on him, for him and no one else. He would feel fuzzy every time you looked him deep in the eye. And you both could tell there was a lot of tension, but not in a bad way.

“Yours?” he asked

“Y/n.” you said looking back in front of you

“Pretty name.” he said making you smile scrunch your eyebrows in confusion as you looked over at him

“Thanks...that’s a compliment I've never heard before from someone.” you said smiling

“Is it the type of compliment you'll remember?” he asked smiling

“Yeah, I don’t think i’ll ever forget it.” you said

“Good.” he said

“Oh- my place is just up the stairs so..thank you for walking me.” you said stopping in your tracks and pointing, smiling

“Yeah, no problem..” he said as you waved and started to walk up the stairs

“Hey-! Before you go-” he said making his way to where you were on the stairs, stopping on the stair below you, making him look up at you

You saw that his face was slightly red, and it made you smile softly as you waited for him to finish his thoughts,

“Would this be a bad time to ask you out or-?” he asked laughing, leaving you surprised

“Yes but I like you..so no.” you said

“..cool.. Then i’ll see you tomorrow.” he said said grinning and turning around to walk

“..tomorrow?” you said under your breath smiling as he made his own way home

After the most cliche moment of your life just happened, you went on to do your regular routine of going to bed. And you couldn’t help but feel so excited for what's to come.

‘What does he mean by seeing me tomorrow..he didn’t even ask if i'd be free, or tell me where we should meet….He’s so different..’

You though tot yourself as you were trying to fall asleep

The next morning, you woke, got ready, and went to school. Everything went as usual. Till one of your underclassmen from your club came barging into the club room, sweating and frantically trying to catch his breath.

“Y/N!” he yelled

“Are you alright?” you asked placing down the pen you were using to help correct a paper, while walking over to him to help him sit down

He only let out heavy breaths, and so you went over to your book bag, taking out a new water bottle and napkin. You handed him the water as he aggressively went to open it and drink it. You kneeled next to the kid and wiped the sweat that was dripping from his forehead, waiting for him to calm down.

“What happened? You look scared.” you said with concerned eyes

“Y/n! There's a man outside in front of the school asking for you!” he said

“..did he threaten you or something?” you asked thinking it was the guy from yesterday who harassed you

“No! But! But!-” he said not being able to speak his mind

“Hey! Hey! It’s alright just relax, grab your stuff and go home, okay? Club is done for today.” you said getting up and patting his head

“Sure but!”

“Don’t worry! Everything is fine-” you said walking over to grab your sweater and bag

“Do you mind locking up the classroom on your way out?” you asked to one of the club members

“Sure!” she said as you handed her the key

“Thanks so much, leave the key at the front office on your way out-!” you said walking out of the club room

You walked down the stairs of your school, walking to the front you carefully looked around, seeing no threat in sight you continued on your way, walking to the front. As you turned to start walking on the sidewalk, your face grew shocked at seeing-

“Rindou?” you asked

“Hey there, took you long enough.” he said looking up from his phone

“Sorry..? How would I know that you would be here?” you asked smiling as you walked over to him

“I thought I sent some random kid to get you.” he said

“You also scared the shit out of him.” you said as Rindou started smiling cheekily

“I swear I didn’t mean any harm-” he said bringing his arm up in defense

“Well sit down, let's go already. It's hot.” he said handing you a helmet

“Where’re we going?” you asked taking it and strapping it on

“You’ll see, come- and I’ll hold your bag for you. he said pushing himself up so that you could sit behind him

You didn't respond and only did as he said, sitting behind him, you pulled your skirt down. You felt nervous at how close you two were right now, but he seemed so calm...it was almost frustrating.

“This your first time on a bike?” he asked slightly turning his head

“Yeah, you’re not gonna wear a helmet?” you replied

“Nope, don't need it, and you should probably hold onto me though.” he said, bringing his hands up to start the motor making your heart jump at the loud sound, and before you could even do anything, he started zooming out of his parking space.

Your eyes widened and you quickly brought your arms, wrapping them around his waist, pressing your cheek against his upper back and cringing your eyes shut. Sacred for your life. You heard him laughing a bit at your reaction, and you couldn't help but to smile at it since it was so cute.

“Slow down!” you yelled trying to make yourself known over the loud engine

“You’re gonna be fine! Just trust me!” he yelled back smiling as you brought your head up slightly feeling the wind against your skin..and it felt so good. Was this what living a carefree life was like?

You couldn't help but smile so big at the feeling you were feeling right now.. It was different from any other feeling you’ve felt. It was happy mixed with...anxiousness? It left you with butterflies in your stomach. That never went away and it just made you feel so good.

‘Is this love?’

you thought to yourself holding Rindou tighter to you as he turned the bike

Rindou felt his heart flutter with your every touch, the fact that you would hold onto him tighter and tighter every time he did something new with his bike just made him smile like a fool. He found it so cute that despite the fact that you were scared, knew nothing about him, and had no idea where you were going and just trusted him because he said so made him feel...light? Like fuzzy and warm. He liked it. No, he loved it. You made him feel happy and jittery even though he knew nothing about you, but he knew how to keep a level head...but that was getting harder and harder for him to do

‘Am I in love?’

He thought to himself

He was snapped out of his thoughts when seeing the spot come into view. He slowed down his bike, turning into a dirt road with lots of trees and bushes, the sun piercing through them making it a beautiful sight. There was also a fence that was about 4 feet tall that also had a sign which said “no trespassing, private property.” which made you raise an eyebrow.

“Are we going on a hike or something?” you asked taking your arms off him and resting them on your thighs, making Rindou feel a little disappointed that your warmth was gone

“Sorta, it’s a short one.” he said, parking the bike and getting off to help you out.

“Hm.” you said smiling taking off your helmet and placing it on the handle of the cycle

You got off the cycle and walked over to where Rindou was, seeing he was making his way over the fence

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked stopping at the fence seeing he was on the other side

“I promise. Trust me.” he said, pushing up his glasses smiling, you smiled at him and placed your foot through the openings so that you could bring your leg up to the other side.

“Alright, I will.” you said smiling as you sat on the fence, ready to jump off

Rindou held his hand out for you to grab. You placed your hand on his feeling your face get hot, again, as he wrapped his fingers around it. You put some of your weight on him as you slightly jumped off. You let go of your hand and fixed your skirt.

“Ready?” he asked holding out his hand again for you to grab

“Ready.” you said finally letting him see you blush as you held his hand making his eyes soften at you. You felt excited.

After a bit of walking through some nature, you two stopped. You held one of your hands over your eyes since the sun was shining directly at you. But your other hand never let go of his. You tilted your head in confusion seeing that you both were stopped at a lake. It wasn't too big or small. The water was clear and you could see the bottom of the body of water because of the sun's bright rays.

“..hm?” you said seeing that Rindou let go of your hand and started to take off his school shirt and jacket, you quickly turned your gaze from him

“What are you doing?” you asked avoiding looking at him

“We. We are going swimming.” he said walking in front of you smiling foolishly

“I don’t have a swimsuit.” you said smiling slightly seeing he was only left in plaid boxers

“And? C’mon it's spring break, isn’t it? Let loose a bit.” he said taking off his glasses

“Is this your cheap shot at trying to get in my pants?” you asked jokingly

“It can if you want it to be, but don’t worry that time will come eventually-” he said smiling cocky and patting your head, making your face become hot

“Smooth.” you said taking off your shoes as Rindou sat on a rock watching you

“Really?” you said after taking off your socks and skirt leaving you in your undershorts and school shirt

“What?” he said playing dumb

“Fold your clothes, don't just leave it on the floor.” you said grabbing his shirt, balling it up and throwing it at him as he brought his arms to grab it before it could hit him

“Oh? I see what you’re doing.” he said smiling and getting up, doing as you told him

“I’m sure.” you said unbuttoning your shirt, folding it and placing everything on a rock turning around to not see Rindou anywhere, you made a confused look but then you felt yourself being picked up and thrown into the water, but he stayed with you, letting you both hit the water together

You weren’t even angry, you just felt happy.

It all went in slow motion in his eyes, seeing your shocked face turn into a happy one as you splashed into the water. It honestly shocked him, the way you two so easily warmed up to each other.

After about 2 hours of just swimming, talking, fighting, and flirting. You both floated in the water watching the sun go down.

“Wanna be a thing, Y/n?” he asked looking off to the side as you let out a small laugh

“You would like a middle school boy asking out his crush-” you laughed making his face turn to yours flustered

“How else can I say it then?” he asked

“I never said it was bad, it’s cute and sure, let’s ‘be a thing’” you said making his mouth slightly part

“I like hanging out with you, relationships are just friendships but more intimate right? It’ll be fun...I like how I feel when I’m around you so it’s an easy yes.” you said resting your arms on the big pile of rocks in the water looking up at his surprised face

“See, I was gonna say all that but I didn't wanna creep you out-” he said shrugging lightly and slightly swimming over to you

You simply smiled and looked at him as he made his way closer to you.

He was completely lost in your eyes, he didn’t even feel nervous about asking you out. He just felt so comfortable, and he knew you’d say yes. He watched as you got up from the water and ringing out your hair. His eyes grazed your damp skin, and you noticed it. But you didn’t feel nervous anymore. You liked it.

“We should get out, right? The sun is almost down. I don’t want either of us to get sick-” you said making your way out of the water

“worried about me? How sweet.” he teased following you out

“Shut it-” you said smiling as you started to put on your school shirt and socks and Rindou put on his shirt and pants.

“Shit. Quick-” he said grabbing your hand

“My clothes?!” you said in a louder tone as you two started to run to a bush

“We’ll come back, keep quiet it’s the cops.” he said pulling you in front of him so that you could hide behind the bush first

“The cops?! How do you know??” you asked whisper yelling

“Shhh..” he said bringing his hand to cover your mouth as he carefully watched the two cops encounter the clothes on the floor

You brought your hand up to pull down Rindous hand, as you both watched and listened carefully. Your heart was thumping hard, you could feel it all over your body. You watched as the cops picked up the skirt you left on the ground.

“Well jeez-” laughed the cop seeing all the clothes

“Is it those damn skinny dippers again?” said one cop signing

“Probably, just pick it up and throw it away. There's no one here like always, these calls are always a waste of time.” said the cop tossing your skirt into a trash bag

“Kids are too horny these days!” yelled the cop picking up the clothes and throwing it in the trash bag

“PFT-”

Your eyes turned to Rindou who just let out a loud laugh. You brought your hand to cover his mouth quickly, but the damage was already done.

“Who’s there?!” yelled the cop walking over

“Shit, cmon!” yelled Rindou grabbing your hand as he started to run quickly, still laughing

“You DUMBASS-” you yelled as you two ran fast as Rindou was now laughing hysterically

“Stop it right there!” yelled the cops chasing after you both

“Shit!” you yelled after turning your head seeing the cops were catching up to you two

“Are they close?!” yelled rindou as you both started running faster

“Yes!” you yelled back

“Okay as soon as you see the bike just get on it, okay?!” he yelled looking back at you, grinning making your mouth part in awe

‘He’s so cool.’

You thought to yourself

The fence came into view, Rindou used his hand to hold himself up as he jumped over it quickly, and you did the same. You got onto the bike, putting on your helmet as you watched Rindou pull a pocket knife out of his pants pocket.

“What the-'' you said before being interrupted by the sound of a deflating tire, Rindou placed the knife back into his pocket as he ran over to you, sitting down and starting the cycle. Not leaving yet

“What the hell are you doing?! Drive!” you said anxiously seeing the cops come into view

“Just as second…” he said waiting for the cops to become more clear

“Now. See ya!” he yelled laughing after seeing the panting cops finally catch up to you two, teasing them into thinking they caught you both.

You started to laugh as Rindou drove away quickly with a big smile on his face.

That was probably the funniest night of your life. And that's how all your dates went with Rindou. They were all action packed, filled with adrenaline and excitement. He always showed up unannounced at your place honking, or would text you to come over to his place. It was something new everyday with him..from exploring abandoned buildings, to dining and ditching at expensive restaurants, to staying late at each other's houses just talking, to him laying his head on your lap as you treated his wounds, to almost nothing at all.

It had been 3 years of dating Rindou Haitani… The best and worst years of your life. You two fell so stupidly in love with one another. All you guys did was stupid things at first. The love was young, new, and immature. You both were exploring unknown feelings.

Rindou was your first love, and as much as you hate to admit that, you could never forget the day when you realized how you fell for him. And he for you.

After you both passed your high school years, things started to not go so great. Although you loved Rindou with all your heart, some of the stupid things he did were not cute. You were now both 18, and your mother expected you to start helping her out financially, and you completely understood that since you weren’t very wealthy. You started to take up jobs, any that you could find, basically throwing away your high school diploma, using your knowledge for no good. You didn’t mind it, but it did make you feel upset. You hoped that Rindou would notice and ask you about it but it was always the same thing over and over again with him now. Except he just became more and more aggressive with it.

He started getting into a lot of trouble by himself, and not with the help of his older brother, surprisingly. To the point where you would get calls from the police station from him asking you to come and bail him out. At first you didn’t mind, and dug into your savings to do so, but his crimes just became more expensive. You’ve bailed him out 3 times in just 1 month, and it costed you thousands of yen. And he’d only smile at you and say ‘thank you’ nothing more. It infuriated you, but you kept it inside. You’ve asked him multiple times if everything was alright, and if there was a reason for his sudden outbursts of violence. You even went as far as asking Ran, to which you got no answer from both.

Rindou was never ever considerate of your time. At first it was alright, because you two were just kids and had time to waste. But now it was obvious that it wasn't the same anymore. The love you both had, matured greatly and became way more intimate, you both understood that and the risks with it. But as it matured, you both were growing anxious. Anxious at that maybe things would never be the way they used to be. Just being stupid and in love. Like those cliche romance mangas.

You looked down at your phone after serving your last table of the knight. You were exhausted and just wanted to go home, seeing it was 11.

You received a text from Rindou saying “come over?” and it made you angry. So angry. You bit your inner cheek sighing seeing that yet again, he isn't considerate of your time. You had enough, and immediately started walking to his house trying to calm down as you took off your apron.

After walking about 30 minutes, you successfully calmed yourself down. You walked to the door, and knocked, holding all your things in your hands.

“Y/n, hi.” said Ran opening the door smiling

“Hi, is Rin in his room?” you asked smiling

“Yes,” he said, moving to the side. Ran could tell you were upset about something.

You walked over to the door of Rindous room. You knocked before entering the room, seeing he was sitting on his bed with a remote in his hand playing some sort of video game. You took a small breath to try and control yourself. And Ran stood beside the door, he couldn't help but eavesdrop at what was to happen, but you couldn’t see that.

“Rin-”

“Hold on I’m almost done-” he said toying with the remote

“...” you sat there patiently waiting, and after a couple minutes-

“Alright I’m done...What’s wrong?” he said furrowing his eyebrows slightly

“The hell do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?”

“You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset, you texted me, telling me to come over for what? For me to just sit here and watch you play video games? Like every other time?”

“What are you talking about? I always take you out? What made you so mad today?”

“Rindou stop acting stupid.”

“What? How am I acting stupid Y/n?” he asked with an annoyed tone

“...Rindou I’ve told you already, I don't have time like I did before, I can't just drop everything and come and hang out with you.”

“I know that, that’s why I texted you after work.”

“Yeah you texted me after my 9 hour shift, and you’ve been doing that for the past week when you see that i’m clearly tired. I have to walk 30 minutes to get here? You don’t even offer to pick me up.”

“I told you my bike is broken.”

“And?! I told you I would pay for it to get fixed but you didn’t accept my money.”

“Because I don’t want you to waste your money on something stupid like that? Maybe think Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with me using my money to bail you out of jail, that’s just as stupid.”

“I’m stupid now?”

“I’m not saying that! The things you do are stupid!”

“I told you I’m sorry, I haven't gotten in trouble at all this week for you, okay?”

“For me? I lectured you for your own good.”

“I don’t need to hear a lecture from you right now.”

“Rindou I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but if something is bothering you and making you act differently just tell me and I’ll help you.”

“Nothing’s wrong, you’re just so sensitive now.”

“...”

“I’m always the one planning things between us, and you’re getting mad at me for continuing to do that?” he said

“Planning what? You never tell me anything until the last minute, and you just expect me to follow you.”

“And that's why I text you after work.” he said choppy breaking down the words

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Mock me, asshole.”

“..”

“I’m fucking tired after work, okay? And seeing how we’re becoming distant just makes me so upset and exhausted. I’m trying to fix things here.”

“There’s nothing to fix, if you don’t like how it is, then just leave me. It’s that easy.” he said

“Are you serious?” you asked biting your inner cheek to hold in your tears

“Yeah, I’m serious.” he said with a straight face

“So you’re okay with me just ending things right here?” you said fisting your hands out of frustration

“If that means you’ll stop complaining then yeah.” he said

You felt your heart ache, you were so unbelievably angry and sad. You got up, not looking at him as you turned to leave

“Fucking dick.” you said under your breath before making your way out of the house, passing by Ran who had wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Really Rindou?” said Ran to Rindou while standing at his door smiling

“What? I wasn’t the one who ended things.” he said

“Sure, but you were the one who enticed it.” he said bringing up his pointer finger

“And?” he said

“Nothing...just surprised you're not upset, she was crying as she left.” said Ran signing

“She was..?”

“Obviously.” replied Ran smiling

“It’s a shame really, I liked you two together. She was good to you, I hope you won't take a person like her for granted again, Rin.” said Ran signing before making his way to his room

Ran was always a tease to Rindou, especially about girls and you. Rindou could tell though. He could tell that Ran was trying to tease but also get an important message across to him. Ran could tell Rindou wasn't in the right headspace. He’s been out of it, and honestly Ran envys you for being able to put up with it, and also his normal crazy demeanor at the same time. There really isn't any other person other than you and Ran that have had such an impact on Rindou.

After you left, Rindou just sat there with a blank expression. He got a notification on his phone, lighting it up, forcing him to see his screen saver which was a picture of you two. Your laughing face at the bottom of the screen, as his hands were messily in your hair, spreading hair dye all over with a smile on his face looking down at you with such awe.

He looked away from his phone and brought his hands to his hair, grasping it in frustration. It was what RIndou wanted. In your eyes, you saw Rindou losing interest, in his eyes, he saw someone too good for him. He held you back, right?

---

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Been a while, huh?”

“You two...know each other?” asked Kakucho who was showing you around the building

“...”

Complete silence as you both just looked into each others eyes, you slightly angry, and him smiling.

“Yeah-” you both said at the same time looking over at Kakucho

“Oh! How so?” he said giving a surprised smile

“...”

You both looked back at each other, you switched your gaze to look off to the side

“Old...uh..friends.” you said smiling at Kakucho as he nodded his head

“Friends?” said Rindou furrowing his eyebrows playfully, making you feel anxious.

“Yes, friends.” you said

“Should I give you 2 some time alone-?” asked Kakucho sweat dropping

“No-”

“Yes-”

“..”

“After the meeting.” you and Rindou said at the same time, again.

“...Well alright then, let’s go to the table?” said Kakucho trying to ease the tension between you two

“Sure.” you said smiling at him

“Right this way-” he said walking in front of you as you followed, feeling Rindous presence behind you making you nervous.

As the table came into view, you saw a few other men sitting down and discussing things. You smiled and waved as they turned their attention to greet you.

“Y/n?” asked Ran smiling, clearly very surprised standing up a bit to reach your hand

“Hello! Good to see you again,” you said smiling and shaking his hand

“...Interesting.” he said sitting back down smiling over at his younger brother who looked annoyed

“Ran, you’ve met Y/n?” asked Kokonoi

“Y/n was friends with Rindou and Ran-” said Kakucho smiling trying to avoid another tension filled conversion

“I see, then Sanzu will be right over. But Y/n is going to be our financial guide/supervisor. Today’s meeting is about the recent drop in our drug sales.” said Kokonoi passing around packets

You pulled one towards you and sat down between Kakucho and Rindou, reviewing over the packet immediately noticing some major details.

“Alright!!” you heard a man yelled as he walked into the room throwing himself onto his chair

“Oh, new girl that Koko haired right? Y/n is it?” he asked looking over at you

“Yeah-” you said smiling

“Pleasure~” he said smiling leaning over the table to shake your hand

“Likewise.” you said letting go and sitting back down fixing your dress

After a bit of bickering between the men for about 10 minutes, you finally finished your analysis.

“What you should do is drop oxy shipments, sales go down every month by 2%, Within 6 months you’ll be losing more money than you will make with drugs. Also the place you’re getting your oxy shipments from recently is just faux opioids. I get you switched to a new provider since you weren't making money but they’re not even a type of opioid. They were recently in a feud with another gang just a week ago for selling synthetic drugs. They make business by buying cheap things and selling it for 10x it’s price. So the reason you’re losing money is simple, your clients aren’t getting their desired high. Opioids are too expensive to buy in big shipments so I recommend switching to another drug. Adderall is becoming popular among students and soon with others. Taking it gives you a rush of energy and good feelings all around, switch to selling adderall instead of faux opioids, and you’ll be making a lot more money.” you said showing your paper to the men

“How are you so sure?” asked Rindou looking over your notes

“It’s right in front of you.” you said not looking at his direction causing Ran to put his head down to contain his laugh and Rindou smiles at you remark

“I’m all for it.” said Sanzu smiling

“I also brought samples if any would like to try.” you said

“Oh how nice!” said Sanzu smiling at you as you placed the small container in his hand as he opened it and swallowed one happily

“When will we start to see an increase?” asked Kokonoi

“Oh right so here I made-”

You went on to explain your reasoning to Ran, Koko, and others. Within an hour they all seemed satisfied and impressed with your work, while Sanzu was just in a mind of his own enjoying himself

“Alright then I'll start making calls.” said Koko giving you a soft smile

“Sure, let me know if you need any help.” you replied back as the other men started to pack their papers

“Y/n, would you like to finish the tour?” asked Kakucho

“Maybe next time?” you said smiling trying to cover your annoyed face at feeling Rindou tap your shoulder

“Ah understood- no worries.” he said smiling

You turned to look up at Rindou

“My office alright with you?” he asked placing his hands into his pockets

“Yeah.” you said bringing your hand to your necklace, playing with it

You felt nervous as you followed Rindou into his office, anxious, like that first time he walked you home. You haven't seen him in years, it was so overwhelming. You were surprised at yourself for not getting more angry today.

He opened the door of his office for you, you walked in and sat on one of the chairs, as Rindou closed the door, walking over, leaning himself against the table as he just looked down at you. You looked to the side to cover the flushed face you very much did not want him to see.

“Stop looking at me like that.” you said looking him in the eye

“Like what? You look good.”

“...Just say what you want to say so that I can go home.” you said looking off to the side trying to ignore the fact that butterflies just filled your stomach

“How’ve you been?” he asked smiling noticing how his words took affect on you

“Fine. Went to university like I wanted..” you said

“I’m glad, Y/n.” he said

“What are you getting at here?” you asked getting frustrated

“Nothing, I just miss you.” he said

“Don’t say things like that. It’s not fair.”

“Y/n-”

“No, don’t say anything anymore-”

“I’m sorry.” he said making your mouth part then close quickly as you looked to the side trying to control the overwhelming emotions taking over you right now

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that.” you said getting up from your seat, walking to the door, stopping in your tracks when you felt his hand grab your wrist gently

“Just say what you feel like saying.” he said, getting up from leaning on his desk to stand in front of you, making your eyes widen in shock at the sudden intimacy

“I-” you said, getting lost in his eyes again like it was your very first time looking in them. Your eyes traced his face, appreciating every little detail, finally looking at his lips seeing them smirk slightly

“Fucking dick.” you said under your breath before bringing your hand to his jaw, pressing your lips onto his. You felt his arms hold your waist as his mouth moved in sync with yours, his mouth was so warm and hungry for yours. You missed being this intimate with him. He moved you against the wall of his office before breaking the kiss, breathing heavily and looking you deep in the eye

“are you...seeing anyone?” he asked 

“..No.” you replied

“Then..Wanna be a thing, Y/n?” he asked smiling after seeing you smile at the familiar words

“Sure, let’s be a thing’”

You said, excited for what's to come.

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

Bonus lmao

“You guys are done, great-” said Kakucho as his smile faded as he realized what just happened in Rindous office.

“Yeah. We’re done.” you said patting down your hair and fixing the strap of your dress

“We made up.” said Rindou smiling while fixing his tie and wiping under his lip

“...” Kakucho was left with wide eyes and a flustered face, as Rindou and you nonchalantly walked back to the meeting table to grab your stuff and leave.

[strangelysamantha]

bittersweet ☆

possessive!rafe x plus!sized reader.

warnings: crazy rafe, possessive and obsessive behavior, swearing, underage drinking, reader gets hurt, physical fight, ect.

words: 2,167.

summary: you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone, and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.

request?: no :)

a/n: i’m working on requests but since my computer is down it’s taking longer because i hate typing on my phone especially because tumblr always deletes what i’ve written. i’m hopeful that my computer will be fixed by tomorrow, until then i’ll try and produce a few stories since i’ve been MIA for a few days. remember to like and comment if you enjoy this! <3

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

“please just come with me.” rafe frowned as he sat on your porch pleading to you, telling you why you should go to a beach party with him. “why rafe?” you frown, not in a partying mood. instead, you would much rather stay home and do a movie marathon. “please baby, i swear i’ll make it up to you.” you roll your eyes at his begging. “fine, but only because you are so cute.” his eyes sparkle as a smile lifts on his lips, you pull him into a quick kiss.

you walk back inside to get dressed for the bonfire. rafe was wearing blue and orange, and you wanted to match him. so, you grabbed a pair of dark blue ripped jean shorts, and an orange v-neck. you apply some perfume and jewelry before putting on some shoes. just as you were finishing up, rafe walked into your room smirking. “awh, you wanted to match with me.” he smiled. despite you knowing his look was filled with adoration you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his long glance. “obviously, don’t you want people to know i’m yours?” you question him, waiting for his response. “well, matching clothes won’t change anything. everyone already knows.” you nod smiling before pulling him into a kiss.

once you pull away from the kiss, he grabs your hand and leads you to the car as he drives to the beach. his hand finding its way on your thigh; gripping it tightly. while he drove to the beach, you paid close attention to your phone, checking social media for any major updates. rafes grasp on your thigh loosened as the car came to a halt. you were parked on the beach, the sun was already setting.

you both exit the car, rafe swiftly moving from his side of the car to yours. “thank you for coming with me.” his hand finds yours, pulling them together. “of course, i love hanging out with you.” he lets go of your hand, and moves his arm to hold closely around your waist. the two of you begin to walk towards the already drunken teen filled beach.

you frown at the amount of trash that litters the sand. you stay close to rafe, as he approaches topper and kelce. “hey guys.” you say to them to make conversation. they nod in your direction, acknowledging you before their attention turns towards rafe again. you don’t pay any mind to what the boys are discussing. after a while you become bored, so you slowly slip out of rafes arm to go get a drink. “i’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” you ask rafe, and he glances at you smiling. “yes please, thanks baby.” you lean in for a quick kiss before leaving to go get drinks. you weren’t a heavy drinker, always scared of what you would say or do under the influence, so you grab yourself a water and grab a beer for rafe.

you return to the spot you were in earlier, but it’s now vacant. rafe, topper, and kelce all leaving you behind. you frown, looking around for them but coming up short. you had no idea where they could be since this beach was huge. you don’t bother wasting your time looking for them, instead you start to head for the bonfire.

you weren’t surprised that rafe had left you all alone. this always happened. he would beg you to go to something, just to abandon you half way through it. it didn’t bother you, it just worried you, scared of what he was doing without you.

once you arrived at the bonfire, you decided to down the drink once made for rafe, the beer stinging your throat. you drank three more chugs before drinking water as well. it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to come into effect. you knew it had clouded your judgement when you were laughing at jj maybanks jokes of all people. “i’m telling you, these people were fucking crazy.” you giggled as he made exaggerated reactions. “you’re telling me! that sounds scary as fuck. i wouldn’t have survived.” he shook his head looking down at you, “i’m sure you would have figured something out.” you nod at him.

“have you seen those dudes since?” you ask, intrigued by his story. “actually, yeah. their story isn’t the brightest… sheriff told me that they-” his voice cut off as he made a slicing noise above his throat. your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god! really??” you grab his arm, “what if they came back for you! bro no way…” your heart rate quickens at the thought of evil men chasing random kids. “no, i know right, scary as shit. i guess it’s bittersweet because they died, but now they aren’t after us anymore.” he shrugs, sipping his red solo cup. “i guess. it’s still scary. so many people are unexpectedly dying nowadays, i definitely-” you were interrupted as rafe put an arm around you, eyeing jj up and down.

“continue baby, what were you saying?” rafe asked, smiling at you for a split second before it disappeared when his eyes focused on jj again. “oh we were just talking about bad men, and how this town is scarier than it used to be.” he nods at you. “jj what are you doing talking to my girl?” jj stands up straighter, “why do you care? do you own her or something?” rafe scoffed, “yes.” the confusion on your face was evident and jj was quick on acknowledging it. “oh really? by the look on her face, she doesn’t agree.” he glances at you, but you have quickly recovered. “what are you talking about maybank?” you interrupted the two immediately not wanting a fight to break out. “i was just talking to jj because he had a funny story. it wasn’t anything like that, i swear babe.” you words slurred together and it was evident you weren’t in the right headspace.

rafes eyes widened as he fully realized that you were so intoxicated that you had no idea what was going on, “what the fuck maybank? you got her drunk for what? you trying to fuck her?” jj couldn’t believe rafes nerve. “one, she was drunk when she came up to me, and two, i don’t need to fuck her, i already have.” your heart dropped at jj's confession.

“maybank, do you want to take that back?” you could tell rafe was trying to give jj a chance to redeem himself before all hell breaks loose. your hand tightened on rafes bicep trying to get him to move on, but he wouldn’t budge. “can't take back what’s already happened.” jj shrugged again, smirking.

rafe was the first one to throw a punch, you stumbled back as he had pushed you away. with your luck, your head had landed right against the beverage table, scratching the side of your face from your temple to the side of your cheek. you hiss in pain, moving your fingers to feel it. when you retreat your hand you see it covered in blood. you groan in pain, hissing as the cool air makes it sting.

you clumsy stand up, looking ahead to see rafe and jj were still fighting. “rafe!” you weakly call out, but he was stuck in his own little bubble as he pounded his fists against jjs face. you stumble away, walking far from the beach. you were too tired to even try to process what was going on. the yelling behind you quietly faded as you made your way farther along the beach.

not even a minute later you hear rafe running after you. “what rafe?” you ask, but your back is still turned to him. “baby, please just- i’m sorry okay. i, i don’t know. i was just scared he’d take you from me. i don’t want to lose you, you are all i have. you mean too much to me for some pogue to take.” his rambling only pissed you off more. “rafe, please. i have a headache, all i want is to go home.” you frown.

his eyes moved from the sand up to your face, surprised by the huge gash on your face that was oozing blood. “baby?! who did this to you?” you couldn’t contain your anger any longer. you used all your strength, pushing his shoulders back. “you did! you fucking asshole.” the fact that he didn’t even budge from the push you sent his way, pissed you off even more. “baby, i, you know i would never do anything to intentionally hurt you?” your silence only scared him even more.

“baby, i wouldn’t- i didn’t mean to hurt you.” his breathing was heavy as the realization hit him. he had undeniably hurt you, and he had undoubtedly lost you. “no, because this can’t be happening. i can't lose you. baby, i- it was an accident. please, you gotta understand i didn’t want to hurt you, it was just jj fucking all over you, and the way he tried to claim you, saying he already had you, it just- the anger i couldn’t even hold myself back.” you nod at his words. “rafe i understand that. i, just. i don’t want this. do you think i want you to assault every guy who even looks at me? it makes me feel like shit. do you know how shitty it makes me feel? that you think i would chose anyone else when i have you. it hurts to know that you think i’m not loyal enough.” you frown, tears easily falling out of your eyes.

“baby- it’s not you i’m worried about.” you nod, “i know… it just doesn’t feel that way.” he goes to speak again but you quickly interrupt him. “can we please continue this at your house? my head seriously hurts.” his eyes soften, his hand cupping your cheek. he hesitated before he pulled you into a kiss, when you kissed him back he could feel his smile come back. “rafe.” you say again, before pointing to your head. “right baby, i’m sorry. let's go.” you nod.

he walks you to his car, opening the door for you before you hop in. he puts your seatbelt on for you. his protective side shining through once again. he walks around, before hopping in himself. he starts the car. “seatbelt…?.” you question. he laughs quietly. “of course, baby.” you nod as he puts his seatbelt on. his hand reached for your thigh again, before he drove the two of you to his house.

when you arrived, your head was pounding. you could feel it throbbing, the blood dripping onto your orange v neck. you frown at the sight. the two of you walk inside, and he immediately pulls you into his room, placing you on the edge of his bed. he runs to his bathroom grabbing a table cloth and the first aid kit.

he opens the first aid kit, placing it beside you. he takes the wet washcloth, wiping away the blood. after cleaning it, he added antibacterial cream, and then covered it in gauze. he kissed the bandage covering it before walking to his closet.

“here. wear this, and i’ll wash your t-shirt.” you nod, “thank you rafe.” he turns around and you swiftly change your t-shirt. he turns around, his heart hammering inside his chest, still scared about where you stood.

“rafe. i don’t want to lose you. i love you a lot, but i don’t want to continue this if every time a guy looks at me funny, you beat him up. i appreciate you protecting me, but they aren’t worth it.” he nods, soaking up every word. “if you can promise me that you won’t fight random people anymore, then i think we can work this out, and work through this.” he smiles softly, “is that a deal?” you ask. “of course baby. i promise i won’t fight anyone unless they really deserve it.” you roll your eyes, “fine. that’s good enough; but please, let’s hope it doesn’t get too bad.” he laughs, “let’s hope.” you grab his hands, realizing they were quite bruised. “let’s ice these.” he follows you to the kitchen, as you prepare an ice pack.

once the ice pack is ready, you place it on one hand, the other is intently grabbing your thigh. “baby you don’t have to do all this.” he reached for the ice and you lightly pushed his hand away. “you fixed me up, let me fix you up.” he sat back and watched as you cared for his bruises. rafe was glad he didn’t lose you, and he was glad you were still there with him. having you so close to him made him realize he couldn’t sacrifice anything to lose you. he kissed your bandages once more before you two prepared for bed and started to comfortably cuddle together.

[certifiedskywalker]

Breathing Room - Bucky Barnes

Thanks to Sharon’s new profession, you have a chance to catch your breath in Madripoor. Though, Bucky never fails at stealing it away.

WARNINGS: drinking (?) and tensiooooonnn

“I’ve never seen him look at anyone like how he looks at you. Except for Steve.”

“It’s not like that,” you persisted as you shook your head.

Ready to prove your counterpoint, you traced the path of Sharon’s pointed gaze. It landed on Bucky who, amidst the party of stiff art connoisseurs and writhing criminals, looked strangely at ease. When you let your gaze linger, you saw him shift against the far wall he was leaned on. His eyes found yours in an instant as if he had been glancing in your direction before. As if he already knew where you were stood.

Under the colored lights that seemed to flash in tune with the music, Bucky’s eyes, once bright and blue, were dark as he focused on you. Despite the heat of all those that danced, you found yourself frozen. A chill rolled up your spine and threatened to overtake you, thrust you in the depths of Bucky’s stare. Only the sound of a knowing, humming sigh freed you.

“Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like that,” Sharon echoed sarcastically. You glared at her as she moved out from behind the bar. She passed a glass of dark liquor over to you with a grin. Gently, you nudged the drink back across the counter and shook your head.

“I’m on a mission.”

“So is he,” Sharon quipped as she tipped her head towards Bucky. Steaming embarrassment rose along your skin as you glanced back over towards the super-soldier. He was no longer fixed on you. He instead squinted at Zemo as the Baron broke it down in the most awkward, display of dance you had ever seen.

“Yeah, and I’m not it.”

“You are, you just won’t admit it,” Sharon sipped at her drink before she continued. “The way he watches you...he’s ready to take a bullet for you.”

“He already has,” you sighed, gesturing to your left arm. “Vibranium, remember? He’s covered me more than once.”

“Couldn’t forget it.”

“Also, he stares at everyone.”

Sharon scoffed, a light laugh slipping from her lips. “Sure, but not like that.”

“Do you really think...he’s hard to read. I don’t know if he really means to…”

“You’re right, he might not mean to look at you like you’re his lifeline, but it doesn’t change the fact that he does.” Sharon downed the rest of her drink and rested the empty glass on the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on a mission too: to sell some art and information.”

With a wink, she sauntered away, towards a group of individuals clad in formal wear. You watched her go for a moment longer before you shifted your gaze to sneak a glance at Bucky. When you did, you found he was already looking at you, dark eyes fixed on your face. It was tough to tell in the red tones that shone down on him, but you thought you saw Bucky’s mouth quirk the slightest bit upward. Though, you did not stare long enough to see if it morphed into a full-fledged smile.

You were too aware of how your chest tightened to let yourself linger on him. Especially with Sharon’s teasing, her insights, you could not find it in yourself to stare back. Not then, not when there was a chance Bucky felt the same as you had for years, which meant both of you were too stubborn, or too wary, to say anything about it. Even the thought of it knocked the air from your lungs. You eyed the liquor Sharon had poured out for you, considered downing it to distract yourself from the new wave of nerves that washed over you. Before you stretched your fingers out towards the glass, a sudden warmth brushed against your left shoulder.

“You gonna drink that?”

You turned and saw Bucky, his side nearly pressed against yours. The scent of the cologne Sharon had forcibly sprayed on him before the party filled your nose. Fragrant balsam and clove: warm, welcoming, and enough to numb your racing thoughts. When you didn’t respond to his question, Bucky leaned in closer to you with furrowed brows.

“Y/N?” Up close, you noticed just how clear his eyes were, how wholly focused on you he was. Silently you hoped he didn’t detect the shuddering breath you took.

“Yeah,” you said as tipped your head towards the drink, “it’s all yours.”

Bucky nodded at you as he reached for the glass. As he moved, his gaze remained fixed on you and you could not tear your eyes away. The moment the lights flashed an almost natural white, you swore you saw hints of pink on Bucky’s cheeks; but before you could truly tell, the fixtures flickered between blue and red. As Bucky brought the glass to his lips, you forced your eyes to the granite countertop.

To busy your mind, distract yourself from the lure of Bucky’s presence, you traced your fingertips along some of the natural patterns on the stone’s smoothed surface. It was only when you heard the clinking of glass against the countertop over the music that you felt enough courage to face the man stood at your side. Bucky’s eyes were still trained on you when you looked back up at him, full of that same attention Sharon had noted earlier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink before,” you remarked, “or relaxed.”

“I’m not relaxed,” Bucky said, shouting slightly to be heard over the music. You smiled as he leaned in closer to add, “I don’t think I’ve ever been. Not since….”

“The forties?”

Bucky averted his eyes from you at your teasing question and turned his gaze to the floor. “Well, yeah, honestly.”

The smallness of his voice made your heart ache. Without a moment’s thought, you reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. At your touch, Bucky met your eyes again, and then you saw it. It must have been the glint that Sharon picked up on before. A ferocity, but not one that frightened you. It was a ferocity born of passion, the same, deeply rooted feeling that forced the air from your lungs when you let yourself stare at Bucky for too long.

The passion that you had kept bottled in your chest since you met him, the real Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. It had taken so long for you to truly see him and he was just finally seeing himself. Until the party and Sharon’s observations, you hadn’t realized that maybe he was seeing you too. How long had you been blind to each other, giving each other breathing room when all you wanted was to be close?

“Honestly, I think you look good,” you said, with a confidence that surprised you.

Bucky cocked his head to the side slightly, with the faintest hints of a smile on his lips. “Really? I don’t...it’s been...I haven’t been to a party since the forties. I haven’t danced…”

“You look great, Bucky,” you pressed as you let your hand fall from his shoulder. Bucky blinked at you a few times as if trying to compute your compliments. You gave him a soft smile, an expression that he, shockingly, returned.

“So do you, Y/N.”

The way he said your name sent another chilling shiver down your spine and tightened your chest. Your breath grew ragged and you became suddenly self-conscious about the volume of your breathing. Though, when you noticed how Bucky’s chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly than before, your worries faded. They melted into the music and the smell of his, Sharon’s, cologne until all you felt was warmth and light.

“Do you want to danc-”

Before Bucky could ask his question in full, a drunken party-goer knocked into your back and sent you leaning off your stool. As you tipped forward into him, Bucky opened his arms to catch you. The cool metal of his left arm dug into your waist as your hands braced against his chest. Once you found your footing, you glanced up at Bucky.

“Are you alright?” His eyes scanned over your face as he asked. Yet, all you really heard was Sharon’s voice: he’s ready to take a bullet for you. Ready to fight for you too.

“I’m fine.”

Despite your assertion, Bucky looked past you and towards the person that had nearly knocked you over. For a moment, you saw the man that Zemo had ordered around in the Power Broker’s bar. He wasn’t your Bucky. The passion had turned to anger in his eyes. Quickly, you trailed your hands up from his chest to cup the sides of his face.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you forced Bucky’s face to turn until his eyes found yours. “I’m fine. Are you fine?”

Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared down at you, his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. Gently, you rubbed the pads of your thumbs along the peaks of his cheekbones. At the contact, eyes glinted and you knew he was the Bucky you loved again. The scruff that lined his jaw and grew up the sides of his face prickled and tickled the skin of your palm as he drew in closer.

Suddenly, there was no more breathing room; but you were so wonderfully okay with that. Each breath you each took mingled between you until there was no space at all. Bucky’s lips brushed softly against yours, a tentative ask for permission before you closed the gap. He tasted like whiskey as you kissed and, when his arms tightened around your waist, you felt that you might drown in him.

You were prepared to do just that when you heard someone loudly clear their throat. With a small gasp for air, you and Bucky parted and turned your attention away from the other. Sam, clad in Sharon’s spare turtle neck, stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing grin on his lips. Your hands slipped from Bucky’s face and the super soldier’s arms went a little more slack around your waist.

“So, if you two are done, Sharon found Nagel.”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, “we’ll...follow you.”

Sam glanced at you then Bucky and back again. “You really gotta work on your timing. We’re on a mission, guys. Seriously.”

Before you or Bucky could comment, Sam started off towards Zemo and Sharon. You glanced up at Bucky who seemingly sensed your eyes and looked back at you.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

you suck at crushes

College!Yangyang x College!Reader x College!Renjun 

summary: Renjun wants to help you get with Yangyang who wants to help you couple up with Renjun but they’re both annoying, maybe one less than the other

word count: 4.2k

(warnings: swearing, mentions of food) ((lmk if I missed anything))

Taglist! @lanadreamie

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!! I swear reader ends up with only one guy I just don’t want to give away the ending and I know the summary is ass

-

God it was like the beams of sunshine just followed him around. Providing him with a natural spotlight that only worked to draw your attention to him even more than usual. The voices around you faded into background noise, and everything else besides him became so fuzzy you could only focus on the one and only- Liu Yangyang.

“Hello?” “Y/N!” “Are you listening to us?” Someone gripped your shoulder and shook you until you were out of your Yangyang-induced-haze. “Huh? Oh yeah… totally.” You answered with absolutely no idea about the conversation happening at the very table you sat at. 

Your friends snorted, teasing and making fun of you. A kissing noise, a high pitched teasing exclamation of the man of the hour’s name, and some playful elbows being jabbed into your side. When they finally stopped with the teasing and they actually filled you in you were able to answer some questions about the times at the library. 

You slipped into your seat in your geology class, a poor choice on your behalf and quite frankly the school for describing it as something that would be ‘fun and exciting.’ What a total load of BS that was. The professor was an old man that went on and on about his days in the field 40 years ago and rambled on and on about subjects that were 70% of the time not on the tests. However, the one and only bright side was that you had your favorite distraction in this class, Yangyang.

How could one person asking a question about the tectonic plates or the striations on a stupid rock be so attractive? He made it possible. 

“Staring yet again?” An annoying voice asked quietly, just inches from your ear.

“Who are you?” You asked annoyed.

“Y/N, that isn’t funny anymore. Not the first time you did it and not the hundreds of times after that. We lived on the same street for years before you decided to follow me here.” He answered with a huff. 

“Renjun, will you just go away? You know I’m no good at this so go bother someone else.” You replied. You took your eyes off Yangyang, gave Renjun a quick glare, and focused back on the lab work in front of you. Something stupid about hills or some moutain. Wasn’t this class supposed to be about rocks? 

“I don’t need help, I came to help you. We’re friends- shhhh.” Renjun started, quickly shutting you up before you could interrupt. “I can help you with this lab and help you win over your beloved Yangyang.”

You sent him a quizzical look. In all the years you had known Renjun he had never been this... generous- always wanting something in return. “He and I are friends, he’s been super annoying lately and complaining about some final project we decided to do together, but we have months to do it. If I help you guys get together in order to distract him, then he can stop bothering me about that final project. It’s a win-win-win situation.” He explained.

Well, that made a lot of sense. “What do you even have in mind? Yangyang and I don’t talk like we used to, how could we go from strangers to dating in just a couple months.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You were the person to show him around school when he was the new kid all those years ago when we were kids, you’re in better standing than you think. We all went to the same school, we already know each other, we all have this class, and I’m not going to let this fail because I do not fail. If I have to hear about the final project one more time I will rip all the hair off his head, three strands at a time.” Renjun pouted. 

“You sound completely crazy-”

“If you two need some help all you have to do is ask, I don’t need you two to argue and disrupt the class. Mr. Liu, since you seem to have a good understanding of the assignment, would you mind helping them out?” The professor called out. 

You and Renjun sent each other incredulous looks, were you really talking that loudly? “It’s earlier than expected, but don’t worry I got this,” Renjun whispered.

“You know if you guys had just spoken quietly, I could have left early but here I am. You can’t do anything without me can you?” Yangyang teased Renjun. 

“Oh, it wasn’t me. Y/N here is just so stupid, I was trying to explain the lab and it’s like all my words go in one ear and out the other. Maybe you can explain better than I can.” Renjun gestured toward you wildly. 

You immediately went to defend yourself but stopped when instead, Yangyang came to your defense. “Y/N isn’t stupid like you Injun, if you wanted some attention you didn’t have to bother someone innocent.”

Your face felt so hot, god this attention was too much to handle so suddenly. It was as if Renjun had thrown you into the deep end of a pool when you had just learned about the entire concept of swimming itself. If this was his attempt at getting you and Yangyang together you were now questioning the entire idea. It was just too much to handle so suddenly.

Yangyang quickly went on to explain the idea of the lab, giving you some tips to make the work easier and how it connected to past lessons. “Do you understand it a little more now?” He asked you.

You hissed when someone stomped on your foot beneath the table. Your eyes met Renjun’s while he discreetly shook his head, seemingly trying to send you some kind of message. But it seemed whatever he was sending was received because you quickly caught on, answering, “Oh uh, this whole class has actually been a bit more difficult than I anticipated, and you seem to have a way better understanding than I do. Would you be willing to maybe meet up sometime and just help a little more?”

“I’m free on Wednesday afternoons, let’s exchange numbers so maybe we can find out what you struggle the most with and what time works for you. Renjun are you coming too, you seemed to get the lab when I explained it,” Yangyang replied.

Renjun answered with a simple nod, sending Yangyang on his way for the remainder of the class. He was quiet the rest of the time, still sitting beside you. When the class was over he looked over at you, “This is going to be so much easier than I thought.”

-

Some point in the week after class you had all decided on the meeting place and time. Some little cafe just off campus after Yangyang was done with his last class of the day. He said the coffee was good and it wasn’t even expensive, to which Renjun was quick to add that they had friends working there so they got discounts. 

Renjun insisted on meeting you a little earlier to go over the details of the plan he had finally come up with. The plan mainly consisted of you just catching up with Yangyang, which would then progress to just the two of you hanging out, then bam! Dating! Much easier said than done you were quick to point out. His plan was just an idea with no details. Like what do you talk about? How do you make him like you? What kinds of things does he like? Could he even like you romantically?

“He actually mentioned to me that he was happy to talk to you again, so I have very high hopes. That was one conversation with him that was not about the final. Just have some hope.” Renjun shrugged. 

“You make this sound so simple, but you are not the one risking being embarrassed by telling the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were 10 about your feelings and having even less of a relationship than you’ve had for the past like 6 years.” You huffed.

“Since you were 10? That’s a little embarrassing.” Renjun let out.

Ever since you were kids it was like Renjun knew the exact words and actions to push your every button. Always getting on your nerves and getting under your skin. It was foolish of you to believe that he had matured enough to not tease you, even in your 20s and even in college. Huang Renjun sucked.

You brought your hands up to his neck, fully ready to wrap your hands around his neck and just squeeze- just enough pressure for him to get the idea to just shut up. But of course, that would be unacceptable in public and even less appropriate seeing as Yangyang had come right up to the table before you could do so. You improvised, changing your intended action of a throat squeeze to a nice hug, arms wrapped tightly around Renjun’s shoulders. You smiled brightly, tilting your head away from Yangyang so your lips were right beside Renjun’s ear, “I can go another 10 years buddy, learn to shut your damn mouth. I for one know how to follow through with my threats and will actually pull your hairs from your head- Yangyang, so good to see you!”

Yangyang looked between the both of you curiously, side by side, one with a bright, beaming smile and the other flushed, scared look on their face. He shook it off and pulled out his study materials while making small talk. 

By the end of the study session you felt more confident in your geology skills and your chances with Yangyang. He had gotten exponentially cooler as he got older than the kid you met all those years ago. Sure, he was still chaotic and sarcastic, even still a little dramatic, but it nonetheless made your heart skip a beat, just like the first time you laid eyes on him. 

-

Over the next few weeks Renjun slowly stopped coming to the study sessions. He always had some excuse or another, that neither you or Yangyang ever really questioned. In those few weeks you and Yangyang had grown closer as friends, texting each other about more than just class, checking in on each other, sending stupid memes and tiktoks, even a few inside jokes.

But of course, Renjun had to have his time too. Instead of just texting you, he would make conversation anytime he saw you on campus, even going as far as asking you to hang out when he wanted to know what was going on. Every night without fail, he would FaceTime you for at least an hour and a half to ask for very detailed updates which at some point became you two just talking about your days in general. He liked to judge your every decision, giving his own input on even minor things like the seat you sat in for a class he didn’t even have. He said his life lacked drama so he needed to live vicariously through his friends.

“I know we usually meet at the cafe, but even with that discount I really shouldn’t be spending all that money there every week. Do you mind if we meet at mine this week? I promise my roommate buys enough snacks to feed the whole complex and he makes me clean the place every week.” Yangyang suggested about a month and a half into your studying arrangement. 

You of course agreed, you’d be crazy to not want to go to your crush’s home, just the two of you- alone, and talking about… rocks. 

So when the next week came and Wednesday afternoon rolled around, you found yourself standing right outside your crush’s door, fist raised to knock. You were so nervous, just being alone with him in his home! This wasn’t the cafe where you had other people around, where you knew where things were, close to your home. No, this was his house, and that made you beyond nervous. 

He pulled the door open, a wide smile on his face as he welcomed you in. He set your things at his kitchen table and gave you a short tour of the home. “My roommate will be back later tonight, but he made us some food if we get hungry later,” He told you while he brought out his own supplies, once again ready to conquer your weekly study session.

And even though you did at one point struggle very much with the subject, this particular topic seemed easier to understand. So after even correcting Yangyang a few times, the study session became more of a hang out session. So casual that you even answered Renjun’s texts, chuckling at him freaking out in all caps because you were in Yangyang’s home.

“No, but Renjun did that last time we hung out too! We were in public, like full on glass of water spilled across the table and he got so red,” you laughed recalling the memory from just a few weeks ago after watching Yangyang do the same.

Then just a few minutes later when you were both watching TV you mumbled, “I think Renjun would like this show. This is on Netflix right?”

Yangyang being the smart kid that he is, had pieces coming together in his mind, ideas that he wasn’t even sure if you knew yet. He was going to make this happen.

-

Renjun sat in front of Yangyang, a month before the end of the semester, finally working on the final project. Which, thanks to you, had not been mentioned even once since you and Yangyang started hanging out until a week ago.

After finishing his part for the day Yangyang leaned back in his chair, sighed and smiled. “I think I’m going to ask Sua from our history class out.”

Renjun choked on his drink, did Yangyang really have to pick the exact moment he took a sip of his drink to tell him this? He cleared his throat, “Since when do you like her?”

Yangyang shrugged nonchalantly, explaining that Sua worked at the cafe he was always at and at some point they just kind of hit it off.

Renjun nodded, a little excessively. In his head he was trying to figure out what the hell to do. He knew you liked Yangyang and how hurt you would be if Yangyang suddenly had a girlfriend. At this moment, you were the only thing on Renjun’s mind. “Really? I actually thought you and Y/N might be a really good match, and you guys obviously get along well.” He replied.

Yangyang hid his smirk by taking a sip of his drink, “I don’t know, Y/N is really just much more of a friend than anything. Like don’t get me wrong Y/N is cool, but I see Sua more romantically.”

Before Renjun even had time to process his words and think of the consequences, he suddenly blurted out, “Well, Y/N likes you- and has liked you since we were kids. You have to think about more feelings than just your own Yangyang. Think of Y/N.”

“Like you think about Y/N?” Yangyang replied. Renjun tilted his head in confusion, trying to understand what Yangyang was talking about. 

“I know you never grew out of that crush you had in middle school- it’s that cute childhood neighbors to lovers thing. I know that whole plan you made so I could finally pay attention to Y/N, and while I admit it worked, because Y/N is a cool friend, this plan didn’t work the way you wanted it to. I see the way you look at Y/N and every time we hang out that’s all you can talk about. I’m smarter than you Injun, I know.” 

Renjun flushed, these were emotions that he had buried deep down years ago. In just two months Yangyang had uncovered and brought his emotions to light. Emotions that had at one point been disguised as that annoying 13 year old kid that would bother you to your wit’s end and now evolved to Renjun putting your emotions before his own. Days that were once filled with him tugging on your hair or tapping on your shoulder and looking away as if it weren’t him, had now become days of texting or facetiming you regularly just to catch up like he had wanted. 

“I think you should tell Y/N how you feel, don’t underestimate your chances.” Yangyang told Renjun as they made their way out of the cafe. 

-

When Yangyang told you that he knew you liked him, that he wasn’t interested, that he was actually going to date Sua from his history class, you thought you would be more upset. Embarrassed that he knew you liked him all this time, angry that he didn’t tell you earlier, or heartbroken that your crush of almost 10 years didn’t like you like you liked him. But you weren’t. You weren’t embarrassed, or angry, or heartbroken. You felt fine, it felt like he was just telling you what he ate for lunch. “Okay, so how do you tell the difference between these crystals again?” You replied with a nod. 

“And I know you like Renjun.” He added quietly. 

You looked up suddenly, eyes wide with shock, “What?”

“Come on Y/N, I think this whole ‘Renjun annoys me to no end’ is just a ploy. Whenever we hang out he’s all you talk about, you guys FaceTime like every night, right? You smile every time he texts you, and even though you play it off as ironic shit-posting- those stories you always post with all the hearts and cheesy ass captions stopped being a joke at some point. You may not have realized it but even with Renjun as just a friend to you now, he means more to you than I do.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “You know you’re smarter than you look, but I really don’t like you psychoanalyzing me.” 

He laughed loudly, “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t exactly have a good record with crushes, obviously. I don’t know what to do now,” you quietly answered, “Anyway this seems like a good ending point, we’ll meet one more time before the final right? Just text me if you need anything alright?” 

Before Yangyang could even stop you or try to reassure you, you were hastily packing up your things and out the door. How was he going to get the two of you together now?

-

It seemed that mother nature seemed to understand the tornado of emotions that were happening for you and Renjun, though you both had no idea about one another, what had started off as a gorgeous spring day had become a dark and rainy spring night. Even Yangyang laid in his bed, unable to sleep as he remembered that he had failed to mention or even plan out- that neither of you knew you liked each other. That would have been nice to know, but it was a little too late for that now seeing as it was like two in the morning. 

If you liked Renjun, which it sounded like you did, according to Yangyang and the more you thought about it, it really felt like you did. Not some surface level ‘I like to admire you from afar for 10 years’ crush but rather a ‘I like you and want to spend time with you and I’d hate to see you smile at anyone else like you smile at me and possibly fall in love.’ You sat straight up in bed, flashes of the lightning outside lit your room up, did you just think about falling in love with Renjun? Before you could process anymore thoughts you pulled on a coat and some shoes, grabbing the umbrella you kept by the door. You had to tell Renjun how you felt.

Stepping out of your apartment complex, you thanked the love gods for allowing Renjun to live just a few blocks away from each other and not across town. There was no doubt in your mind that by the time you reached him, you would be soaked to the bone, but you had to do this. There was no point in keeping this crush to yourself just for nothing, you had to take the risk and just hope for the best. Best case scenario, you get a boyfriend, and worst case, well then you don’t talk to him for another few years and every time you see him your heart feels like it's being stomped on. You know, something that could become a regular feeling. 

You hurried through the storm, dodging large puddles while trying your best to stay beneath the awnings of the buildings. You stopped at a light, looking out into the rain to see just how much further you had until you got to Renjun’s place. But instead you focused on the sight of someone rushing through the rain to get to the opposite end of the crosswalk. You squinted through the downpour, realizing that the person at the other end of the crosswalk was “Renjun?”

You rushed toward him, lucky that there were no cars at this hour of the night to dodge. He ran forward, meeting you in the middle, pulling your hand forward so that the umbrella covered you both. “What are you doing out here?” He asked you loudly so you could hear him over the rain. 

“I was coming to see you,” you started, meeting his eyes that told you he was waiting to hear more, “Renjun I like you. I really like you. I don’t smile, or laugh, or feel happy or even feel annoyed with anyone else like I feel when I’m with you. I want to be happy and date you, use your stupid plans to plan dates for us. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. I’ve had a crush on you since middle school, you don’t know how happy this makes me.” He beamed, using his free hand to cup your cheek.

His hands were wet, and his fingers were cold as they cupped your warm cheek. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?” You asked.

He surged forward, lips meeting your own in a passionate kiss as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips moved against his own, wrapping your free arm around his neck to pull him closer. He let his other arm fall to bring you closer by the waist, deepening the kiss. With one arm holding up the umbrella you decided to just fuck it, dropping the umbrella you placed your hand at the back of his neck.

A sudden honk made the two of you jump apart, rushing back to the end of the crosswalk to avoid getting hit by an angry driver. 

“You crazy kids! Living your movie moment! I did it!” You heard a voice yell over the pounding rain. 

“Yangyang?” Both you and Renjun called out upon catching sight of Yangyang leaning out his car window.

He smiled, gesturing for the two of you to get in the car. You both shuffled into the backseat, hands held close and sitting side by side to warm each other up after being out in the horrible weather for so long. You were both shivering, teeth chattering, and lips nearly blue from the cold. 

“Aren’t you guys glad I meddled? I mean look at you guys, all cute and cuddled up after your adorable kiss in the rain.” Yangyang giddily smiled as he shook some of the water out of hair. 

“Can you just take us back to mine, I’d like to get dry so we don’t get sick. If that’s ok with you,” Renjun asked, whispering the last bit to you. 

You nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Yangyang nodded, putting the car in drive, chatting your ears off about how happy he was that the plan worked even when he didn’t plan well considering he forgot to mention that you liked each other. He told you both that he was on his way to Renjun’s to tell him that you liked him and force him to FaceTime you and confess.

He pulled up in front of the apartment complex, turning to give you a cocky smirk before you could even get out of the car or thank him for the ride, “So is Injun a good kisser?”

“This whole car ride made me realize how much you suck, seriously. I clearly made the right choice, so I hope and pray for your sake Sua has a mountain of patience, like you never shut up- ever. Thank you for the ride.” You ranted angrily before you made your way out of the car.

Yangyang’s jaw fell in fake offense, “You sure know how to pick ‘em Renjun.”

But he wasn’t met with the shocked face he thought he would see, he was instead met with a dazed, lovesick look. “Yeah I do, I might be in love.”

[theladyofdeath]

Elain’s Pie {Part 3//Conclusion}

Part 1: Elain’s pov 

Part 2: Azriel’s pov 

NSFW. 18+. 

Shout out to Shelby for writing this with me!

Azriel stood outside of Elain’s apartment.

He had been standing there for five minutes, at least, unsure of what to do.

Well, he knew what to do.

Knock.

He should knock.

And, usually, knocking would not be a difficult task, but it was the first time he was seeing Elain since…

The incident. 

She had invited him to come over for dinner. Coincidentally, pie was for dessert. 

Azriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath before knocking on her front door, three times, avoiding the giant floral wreath that hung in the top center.

“Coming!” she heard him call.

His entire body flooded with nerves. As her footsteps approached along the wooden floorboards, Azriel felt like he was going to puke.

He should turn around.

He should go home.

He couldn’t stop imagining her breasts.

Damn it, Azriel, you’re a grown ass man, not some horny teenager with only his hand to-.

Elain opened the door, looking absolutely stunning in a lavender sundress. 

“Hey!” she beamed. “Come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

He nodded, and smiled, and walked inside, running a nervous hand through his cropped hair. “Smells good.”

“Yeah?” Elain asked. “Just a simple dinner of roasted chicken and carrots. Nothing fancy.”

Azriel nodded, and realized just how long it had been since he’d been in her apartment. Her pink roses must’ve died. In the middle of her kitchen table, lilies took their place. 

Elain chuckled as she swept past him, back into the kitchen. “Take off your shoes, get comfortable. You act like you’re a stranger.”

Azriel cleared his throat and quickly slipped off his Vans. “Sorry, I- I didn’t sleep well last night.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Knowing he was going to Elain’s, he didn’t sleep worth shit. 

“How come?” she asked, opening the oven to remove the pan within. 

Azriel hesitated. “Not sure,” he lied. “Air conditioning went out. I think I was just hot.”

Elain hummed as she put the hot dishes on top of the stove. The table was already set to perfection, in true Elain fashion, just for the two of them. “There’s a bottle of wine chilling in the freezer. Mind taking it out?”

Azriel nodded and did as she asked. After taking out the bottle of moscato, he found the corkscrew and popped it open. After filling the two glasses on the table, he set it to the side. 

“Can I help with anything else?” he asked.

Elain shook her head as she carried a dish of roasted chicken surrounded by vegetables to the table. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable.”

He did as she asked.

Once he was seated at the table, he continued to watch her. 

“You’re acting strange,” she said, bustling about the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to their meal.

No, not at all, I’m just wondering if you’re wearing that same scrap of lace under your dress tonight. I just keep thinking about it.

“Just tired, is all,” he lied, but then he slipped in a kernel of truth. “A lot on my mind.”

“Well that’s what dinners with your best friend are for,” she replied, rounding the corner and taking the seat across from him. A soft smile that was so quintessentially Elain bloomed in her lips. “So you can relax and get whatever’s on your mind off of it.”

Looking at those lips, he knew there was no chance in hell he’d be able to get the image of her wearing nearly nothing out of his mind. Or the images his mind had come up with, based on pure creativity of his own.

Luckily for him, she hadn’t left much to the imagination. 

“Help yourself, please,” she said, motioning to the plate between them. She took her glass of wine and sipped from the rim. Azriel tracked the movement. 

When it was clear he wasn’t moving, Elain set down her glass. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

“What?” Azriel asked. “No. No, it’s not-.”

“I was afraid this would be awkward, and it’s so awkward,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Elain, it’s not awkward.”

“Then why are you acting so weird?” she asked, meeting his eyes. 

Azriel hesitated. “I’m not acting weird.”

“I know you better than anyone,” Elain said, pointedly. “You’re acting weird.” 

Azriel looked down at his empty plate, then back up at her. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

They hadn’t talked about it since that first night, since the night Azriel opened his phone to see a sight he never thought he’d have the honor of seeing, and then it was just him joking around to make her feel comfortable and less embarrassed.

Elain nodded, slowly. “Okay. We can talk about it.”

He had suggested they talk about it, yet he had no idea where to start. What exactly to say. He went with the question that had been eating him alive since she explained it wasn’t the picture she meant to send him.

It didn’t explain why the picture existed.

“Why did you even have that picture?” He asked, trying to keep his tone light. He even took a sip of the sweet wine to appear like he wasn’t about to tear out of his skin. “Was it for…someone else?”

They told each other everything. As far as he was aware, she hasn’t been seeing anyone else. Her breakup with Greyson four months ago had been catastrophic enough that she had decided she wanted to be single for a while. Granted, it had been a while, at this point, but he hadn’t heard her talk about a potential beau during any of their dinners, texts or phone calls.

“No!” She blushed, covering her own face. “No, of course not. I never take pictures like that.”

He refrained from telling her that he had seen proof that was a lie, at least once, but let her go on. “I just… I thought I looked good while I was getting dressed that morning. I was…feeling myself.”

Azriel bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Feeling yourself, huh?”

“Yes, feeling myself,” she repeated, and Azriel noted her cheeks had turned a darker shade of pink. “I’d never even taken a picture like that...and I wanted to know what I’d look like on camera.” She shook her head and breathed a laugh. “It was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Azriel said, a little too quickly. Elain raised a brow, and he cleared his throat. “The picture wasn’t stupid. You looked…amazing. Incredibly attractive.”

Elain nibbled on her bottom lip as she said, “Of course you’d think that. I was nude and you’re a man.”

It was a joke, Azriel knew that, but Elain’s voice was far too quiet and insecure for the punchline to really hit.

Azriel just shook his head. “You always look amazing, Elain. I was attracted to you long before I saw you naked.”

There it was.

The confession.

Elain’s lip fell from between her teeth.

Before she could say anything back, he began scooping chicken and vegetables on his plate. “Smells amazing. I’m starving.”

That quickly, he tried to shove what he’d said under the rug.

For a second, she debated pushing him, those words, words she’d never expected to hear from him… They filled her with far more of a thrill than she expected.

So she let him steer the conversation to safer topics, let him drain his own glass and then refill it.

They ate.

They made small talk, talked about their weeks and work and what was going on with their friends. The conversation grew lighter with each word, and that awkwardness they had found themselves in had slowly faded away.

As dinner wrapped up and their plates were cleared, the wine bottle found itself empty.

Elain stood and cleared their plates only to return to the table a moment later with another bottle of wine and dessert.

“I hope you saved room for pie,” she said, setting it down in front of him.

His cheeks heated and he cleared his throat. “Absolutely. Always room for pie.”

The second the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. Gods, his head was swimming. That was the dumbest thing he could have said, considering.

He could see the smile trying to form as she cut into it and placed a slice on his plate. “Good. I’m proud of this one. It’s a new recipe I found.”

As she leaned over, the dress she wore gave him an unintentional view of her cleavage and he forgot how to breathe. “I’m sure it will be the breast— I mean, best! The best you’ve ever made.”

Mother’s tits, he was hopeless. He was no better than a thirteen-year-old discovering the Internet for the first time. He couldn’t drag his eyes from her cleavage and knew drinking anymore of that sweet wine would land him in so much shit, he would have no idea how to get out of it.

Elain was looking at him. With the smallest, sweetest of smiles, she asked, “Breast?”

“I said best.”

“You said breast.”

“I did not.”

“Are you going to think about my boobs every time I offer you pie?”

Azriel opened his mouth, then shut his mouth just as quickly. “I’m trying not to, but it’s a little hard.”

“It’s a little hard?” she repeated, brows shooting up as she looked down, as if she could see through the tabletop to his jeans.

“No- not- I’m not….it’s hard not to think about…” Azriel sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Nevermind.” 

Elain suppressed the smile on her lips, and when Azriel opened her eyes and met her gaze, the amused expression on her face had him laughing, quietly. She reached over and refilled his glass. 

“I’m not mad about it, you know,” she said, quietly.

“About what?” Azriel asked, indulging himself with more wine.

“That you can’t seem to get that picture out of your mind.” 

“Good, cause it’s not likely to go anywhere any time soon,” he admitted, thinking back to what else he’d admitted earlier in the night.

She took a drink of her own wine as she sat down next to him, in the spot closer, rather than the seat across the table. “So. Have you ever sent any accidental embarrassing photos of yourself?”

He nearly choked on the bite of pie he’d been taking, and he had to admit, it was pretty damn good. “Have I ever…accidentally sent a dick pic to someone?”

She laughed softly, the sound of it skittering across his bones, and said, “Well, a topless picture of you wouldn’t be nearly as scandalous. So yeah.”

“Never on accident,” Azriel replied, clearing his throat. “Almost did the other night though.”

As soon as the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Especially as he saw her eyes widen.

He was drunk. He must have been so damn drunk to be saying the dumb shit he was saying.

“To me?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer and needed clarification. 

“That’s typically the response, isn’t it?” Azriel asked, unable to control the words coming out of his mouth. “You get a naked picture, you send one back. Until you texted saying it was an accident, I was…thinking about it, yeah.”

Elain nodded, slowly, pursing her lips. “And what would it have looked like?”

The words were quiet, hardly audible, but her deep brown eyes were lit up, waiting for his answer.

Azriel hesitated. “I’m not… I don’t know,” he laughed, and a giggle escaped Elain. “It looks like it looks, I guess.”

“That doesn’t give me a lot to create a mental picture,” Elain said.

“Are you trying to create a mental picture?” Azriel asked.

“It’s only fair, isn’t it?” she asked. 

Azriel simply lifted a brow.

She took another sip of her wine and shrugged, asking, “You said you thought I was attractive, right?”

He nodded, not trusting his mouth to not say something stupid anymore.

“What if I said I found you attractive, too?” She raised an eyebrow and waited.

Azriel waited, too, not saying a word.

Her grin grew. “What if I told you I’d thought about it before?”

He blinked and choked. “You’ve thought about— Really?”

She laughed, the sound bright and amused. “I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

Azriel stared at her, eyes narrowed. “I feel like this is a trick.” 

“It’s not a trick.”

“Are we drunk?”

Elain took a moment to think about it. “I don’t think so.”

Azriel chuckled, knowing full well that she was full of shit. “Fine, you win.”

She raised a brow. “Show me.”

“Patience,” Azriel crooned. “I’m eating my pie.”

Elain leaned over to his plate, dug her finger into the filling and brought it to her lips, sucking it off her fingertip.

Azriel watched her, his heavy breaths going shallow. 

“It is delicious,” she said, giving him one of those bright, heart-stopping smiles.

That smile spurred him into motion. Reaching over, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him, meeting her in the middle. The kiss was soft and sweet and it took everything in Azriel not to nibble on that full bottom lip. He felt her fingers grip his collar, pulling him closer to her and he kissed her until she was breathless.

Pulling away, she stood, smirking, and asked, “Are you all done with your pie?”

In answer, Azriel stood and scooped her up, his mouth instantly finding hers, hungrily. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the skirt of her dress sliding up her thighs. 

She clung to him, and it felt...right.

He had felt Elain’s arms around him a million times throughout the years, but those were only simple, friendly hugs.

This was something entirely different. This was desperation, heat, an awkward situation had turned into years of emotion tumbling out of them.

I showed you mine, you show me yours.

Oh, he would, he would show her everything, anything she wanted. He was in her grasp, and he didn’t want her to let go.

Azriel stumbled into Elain’s bedroom, his lips still on hers. She bit his bottom lip and tugged and the low growl that escaped Azriel had Elain’s fingers digging into his back. 

Azriel dropped Elain onto her bed and she landed, perfectly, her hair spilling into a crown around her head. She watched him, eyes bright.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want to-.”

“I showed you mine,” she interrupted. “Fair is fair.”

Azriel stepped forward and reached for the hem of his henley, quickly pulling it over his head.

Elain pushed herself up into a sitting position at the foot of her bed and reached out, her fingertips brushing along his inked abdomen. 

Azriel held his breath.

Moving her fingers up his abdomen, Elain studied him. When she reached his chest, she began to trace the lines of his tattoos. She would stop at every scar and brush her thumb along it, as if giving it extra recognition and appreciation. 

When her hands moved back down, she paused at the waistline of his jeans, riding low on his hips. She traced his happy trail until she ran into the button of his jeans, and slowly undid it, bringing his zipper down just after. 

She didn’t wait, didn’t want to waste any more time by teasing him, and tugged his jeans off. He kicked them off, left in just a pair of tight, black boxer briefs.

“You’re sure about this?” Azriel breathed. Not because he didn’t want it, gods, he’d never wanted anything more than he’d wanted Elain. He’d been falling for her for years. But he knew there was a line that was about to be crossed that there was no coming back from.

Smirking, she slid her finger inside the waistband of his underwear, slowly running it back and forth, hip to hip. “Something to hide in there? Is he shy?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied. He was straining against the fabric and he knew Elain could see that.

With a nibble on her bottom lip, she looked up at him beneath lowered lashes and said, “I want to see your cock, Az. I want this.”

The words were the most vulgar thing he’d ever heard from her, and he was so stunned and turned on by them that he could only nod.

She tugged his boxer-briefs down and he sprung free.

Elain stilled as her eyes widened, taking him in. She took a raggedy breath, and Azriel watched every single movement that radiated off of her. The way her eyes took in every inch, the way her lips parted, the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. 

She wrapped her hands around his cock before leaning forward and brushing her tongue over the head. Azriel cursed, hardly able to breathe. There were many ways he thought this would go, but her mouth around him?

It wasn’t one of them.

Not that he was complaining.

He sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

His hands were fisted at his sides, terrified that if he moved, if he did anything to frighten her, she’d stop, and right now needed to know what her mouth felt like. He needed to feel the warm wetness and thought he might die if she stopped.

And thank the cauldron, she didn’t.

Elain let her tongue pass over the swollen head again, once, twice, before those full, pink lips wrapped around him.

Azriel was unable to stop the groan as his head fell back, but he forced himself to look down, not wanting to miss a second of her mouth on him.

Her eyes were shut and she kept a hand firm around the base of him as she worked him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he breathed, letting his hand slip into the mass of her golden-brown hair. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

Azriel had always loved getting lost in the deep caramel depths of her big, brown eyes. However, there was an entirely different feeling those big, brown eyes gave him as they eyed him through her long, dark lashes while her lips were wrapped around his cock.

And with her lips wrapped around his cock, and her eyes on his, Elain slid the straps of her dress down until it was a pool of lavender fabric around her knees. 

Her lips let him go with a soft pop. “Do you want to fuck me, Azriel?”

With every word, her breath was warm against his sensitive skin. She slowly stood, her hands trailing along his skin as she did so. Once she stood, Elain slipped off her bra, then slid down her panties.

The only part of Elain he had yet to see was now on full display.

Quietly, she laid back on her bed and spread her legs open wide before motioning Azriel to come toward her. The breath was knocked out of him as he cursed, and his knees hit the bed as he studied Elain’s perfectly shaved, pretty pink pussy. 

With a growl he’d never heard come out of himself, Azriel lined himself up at her entrance.

She gripped the sheets beneath her, and Azriel gripped her hips.

“Ready?” he asked, quietly.

Her cheeks were rosy. “Yes, please-.”

There was a knock on the door.

Azriel’s head swung around. “The fuck was that?”

Elain blinked. “What was what? Azriel, fuck me-.”

That knock came, once again. 

“Azriel,” Elain pleaded. “Fuc-.”

That knock came again, and Azriel’s eyes shot open. 

Elain wasn’t spread out before him, begging him to fuck her. He wasn’t in her bedroom, he wasn’t even in her house.

No, as Azriel blinked, his surroundings became clearer and he sat up, looking around his own living room.

He’d fallen asleep on his couch after work, his quick, shitty dinner of frozen pizza and a Jack and Coke still sitting on the coffee table.

And his cock was incredibly, painfully hard.

He fell back against the cushioned arm rest, dragging a hand down his face.

It’s was dream. It had all just been a damn dream and—.

Another knock came from the door and he realized that that had been what pulled him from the most amazing dream he’d ever had, right before he’d been about to fuck Elain.

Before he’d been about to fuck his best friend.

“Az?” a familiar, high-pitched voice called. “Are you okay? I thought I saw your truck in the lot.”

Elain.

He looked down to the pitched tent just below the waistband of his sweatpants. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Hey! I, uh, I’m coming.”

No, he wasn’t.

And that was the real problem on so many different levels. He stood, and with his eyes closed, he took a couple of deep breaths. 

Dead puppies. The end of The Notebook. Bad whiskey.

As he walked toward the front door, Azriel continued to think of things that made him sad, hoping his dick would get its shit together before he opened the door.

“Az, it’s raining!” Elain yelled, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

A sound that made all the sad things Azriel was trying to think about completely vanish.

When he decided that little Azriel was calm enough, he opened the door. Elain stood on his doormat, rain drops falling onto her hair, in jeans and a t-shirt. 

“Sorry,” he said, unable to control his grin. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I texted you about an hour ago,” she said, as he stepped aside to let her in.

“I accidentally fell asleep on the couch,” he said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. In the process, he highlighted his piss poor meal.

She laughed. “It’s a good thing I brought this then,” she said, lifting the dish in her hands.

He somehow hadn’t even noticed it, but he froze and asked, “Brought what?”

Elain’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as she set the dish down on his kitchen table. “It, uh, is an apology pie.”

Azriel stopped on the other side of his table and chuckled. “I’m sorry, it’s a what?”

Elain sighed and covered her face with her hands. “This is an I’m sorry I sent you a picture of my breasts pie.”

Azriel couldn’t help his laughter. “Do people usually make pies for such occasions?”

“I do,” Elain replied, taking the lid off her dish. “And be happy about it, because it’s apple, and it’s going to be delicious.”

Azriel watched her for a moment before he nodded and went to retrieve two plates and forks. When he turned back around, Elain was watching him. 

“I…thought this would be awkward,” Elain confessed as Azriel sat across from her at the table.

“Why?” Azriel asked, cutting the pie. “Cause I’ve seen your tits?” 

Elain’s face turned as red as a tomato as she kicked his shin under the table. “I just… I don’t want this to change anything, you know? You’re my best friend, Az. You’re the one steady thing in my life and I don’t want that changing.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, plopping a massive piece of pie onto his plate. “It’s already forgotten about, alright? I haven’t even thought about that picture once.”

Elain lifted a brow. “Are you lying?”

“I would never lie to you,” he said, lying through his teeth. He’d thought about that picture every day, both when he was awake and, apparently, while he slept, too. 

“Good,” Elain said, helping herself to the dessert. 

Without another word on the subject, Azriel helped himself to Elain’s pie. 

[lxngbottom]

Can we get a part 2 to pretty flower? my soul depends on it

Pretty Flower | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville finds himself being absolutely attached to the reader after their time together.

warnings: nsfw, light clit play, mentions of sex, but nev being adorable

my soul depends on this too don’t worry

—

ever since that night with neville, everything seemed to be blurring together and changing for you. it had only been a couple of weeks, and you made no attempt to even speak to him. you were so embarrassed at what happened, and even more ashamed at the fact that you enjoyed it. after neville pleaded with you to stay, you just walked out on him, giving him no rhyme or reason.

after everything, neville felt so guilty. did he over step? oh god... what if you didn’t really want that to happen? what if he was too invasive? he wasn’t too sure, but it made him burn with sadness every time he saw you, hiding your face from him in the halls.

you definitely weren’t angry with him, you just were too shy. you felt like you had committed some sort of unforgivable act.

when you told ginny, she almost flipped the whole table over in the great hall. she wasn’t shocked at the fact that it had happened, as she assumed that neville had always fancied you, but all at the same time... you had actually agreed to it. you were no longer “innocent”. and that on its own was what got to ginny. maybe the ginger was just... baffled?

“down there?” hermione asked, skimming the row of seats in the quidditch pitch. you nodded you head as people filled in the rows.

you were at a quidditch game, more than ready to support ginny in her first real match of the year. hermione and luna had escorted you, as you were terrified to get in trouble for not sitting in your house placement. when you admitted that fact, hermione just giggled and said, “and they say i’m afraid to break the rules...”

as you three settled into the stands, you saw a familiar figure walking in your direction. your body tensed, and you quickly turned your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you.

but of course, he did notice you. he always noticed you.

“you guys saving these seats for anyone else?” neville asked politely. hermione shook her head, and he adjusted his scarf as he glanced over at you, just simply waiting for you to look back. but unfortunately, you couldn’t.

you were too ashamed.

—

the quidditch match had gone great. gryffindor had taken a victory, and for some god awful reason, you had agreed to let hermione to sneak you into the gryffindor common room to celebrate.

unusual things had happened as people cheered ron on, including lavendar brown practically forcing her tongue down the ginger’s throat. this elicited a terrible reaction from hermione, and you watched as she exited the common room with teary eyes, harry following behind her. you wanted to go check on her, but honestly, you knew that harry could probably make her feel better than you could. after all, you weren’t great with handling people’s emotions.

for merlin’s sake, you couldn’t even figure out your own emotions.

here you were now, awkwardly standing in the front as students cheered lavendar and ron on for snogging. luckily, they exited soon, probably trying to find some privacy you assumed.

you knew how that went.

you gulped as the whole time you could feel neville’s lingering presence beside you, and you could hear the sound of his voice every time seamus spoke a word to him beside you.

“want me to make you feel good with my fingers?”

“wanna taste yourself, doll? you taste so good...”

“i can’t wait to ruin you, bunny...”

the statements came back in flashbacks every single time you heard his voice. it made your hands shake, and your thighs press together.

“y/n?”

the voice snapped you back to reality, and you looked over to see seamus with furrowed eyebrows looking over at you,

“are you alright?”

you nodded your head awkwardly, feeling neville’s chest slightly pressing up against your back from how packed it was in the common room at the moment.

“yes... um—sorry... what did you say?”

oh god. this was so embarrassing.

“i asked if you placed your bet on weasley, today... if you didn’t, you’re probably regretting that now, huh?” he teased, shooting a playful grin your way. you laughed awkwardly, as you could still feel neville right behind you.

then, you heard dean and ginny called seamus’s name, and he shot them a questioning look.

“oi! leave y/n alone, finnigan!” ginny demanded, walking over towards you, “dean needs a word with you, seamus...”

he rolled his eyes and walked over to his best friend, and patted your shoulder as she returned to the boys.

you were now alone again, and people started to spread out in the common room, chatter of triumph still occurring. but, that feeling behind you still hadn’t faded.

“meet me in my dorm...” you heard in your ear, and you jumped slightly from the voice. he sounded so... angelic. “bunny...”

your thighs clenched from the nickname, and the fact that you could feel neville’s breath against your neck. but you didn’t dare to look back, even when his finger grazed the back of your thigh slightly. and suddenly, he was gone.

for a moment, you panicked thinking about what you should do. you still felt utterly embarrassed due to what happened just a couple weeks prior, but, you couldn’t ignore that familiar fluttery sensation in your stomach as you thought about it.

fuck it.

you waited for a few minutes before walking away, and ginny shot you a wink as you went towards the boy’s dormitory.

“just stay calm... it’s fine—it’s just neville...” you kept telling yourself as you walked up the stairs, also hoping that no one was following you.

the trip to the dorm was unfortunately much shorter than you hoped it would be, and you trembled as you knocked on the door. neville opened it automatically, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. you yelped at this, and he slammed the door behind you. he let go of you, and you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

he loomed over your figure as he approached slowly, looking you up and down.

“hi, petal...” he whispered, sending a shock through your spine,

“hi...” you replied shyly, gulping a bit. he couldn’t help but smile hearing your fragile voice again, as he had missed the simple sound of it these past two weeks.

he noticed your nervousness, and let his fingertip graze across your cheek in an attempt to soothe you, “i’ve missed you...” he cooed, “you left with no reason, darling. i’ve been worried. you haven’t spoken to me, either...”

you felt guilty at his words, but even more guilty for the reasoning.

“s-s-sorry...” you stuttered out, already knowing that he was about to ask you why, “e-embarrassed...”

embarrassed? why?

“why are you embarrassed, love?”

you didn’t know if you should exactly tell him, but you knew he deserved some sort of explanation. you could tell that he was pleading for one just by the look in his eyes.

“what—what we did...”

he frowned a bit at your reply,

“why is that embarrassing?”

you shrugged your shoulders, honestly not understanding the shame.

“it—it was bad...” you muttered, but noticed the shift in neville’s facial features, “not—not bad like that... just—i—well... i don’t know...”

he couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle from you innocence, as it was somehow still in tact.

“well... is there anything i could do to make you feel less embarrassed? cause—there’s no reason to be, petal. you did—amazing.” he paused before he continued, letting his hand trail down your hip, rubbing small circles into it. “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, petal.”

you looked up at him finally, your sparkling, shy eyes burning into his. your cheeks were on fire from his touch, and you knew that he knew that he had an affect on him.

“i-i-i’m sorry... i’ve just been scared to—bring it up, i suppose. d-d-don’t want to—embarrass you in front of your friends...”

neville didn’t even respond, he simply placed a small kiss on your forehead, and he sent you a small smile.

“you could never do that, petal... you’re too sweet.”

his words made you somehow blush even more, and it was getting to the point where you broke out in a sweat from how heated you were.

“but... i couldn’t help but notice that you were clenching those pretty little thighs of yours together in the common room, earlier...” now, his eyes were dark once more, that sweet boy gone within an instant, “what were you thinking about, bunny?” that’s when those same fingers that rested on your hips came trailing down, and were going up your skirt, making your breath hitch.

“y-y-you...” you responded sheepishly, only wanting to be honest with him. he chuckled, and finally, he pressed his finger up against your clothed bundle of nerves.

you gasped as he did so, “bunny... you’re soaked... how long have you been like this?” he asked teasingly, but the tone in his voice came off as if he was just pitying you.

“i-i’ve been thinking about—you... a lot... ever since—you know...” he hummed in response, letting you know that he wanted you to keep speaking, “i—i tried to—t-t-touch myself the other day... but—i don’t know. it felt... weird...”

even after everything, you were still so innocent. it drove neville absolutely mad.

“petal... you should’ve just came to me. you know i’ll take care of you.” he stated with a smirk etched across his face. his fingers kept rubbing small circles into your panties, making your breath turn shaky and uneven. “do you know how much i’ve missed you?”

you whimpered as moved your panties aside, and ran his finger through your slit,

“please...”

“please what, bunny?”

you were tired of the teasing. you had missed him so fucking much, and you just wanted him to make you feel good again. plus, you simply missed just being around him.

“touch me again. please.”

he kissed your lips softly, but still only continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

“be patient, petal. i want you to be mine before i make you feel good again...” he admitted, stroking your cheek with his free hand. “would you want that?”

you looked up at him, and could see the pure honestly and adoration in his green eyes. you had never had a boyfriend before, but you didn’t even have to give it a second thought before you nodded your head.

he sent you a genuine smile,

“good. now you’re mine and i can make you feel good whenever you want...”

[bokettochild]

Talking is Overrated

Whumptober Day 2: Choking

No apologies. Someone posted about this the other day and I figured we deserved to see it for ourselves!

Legend POV, but don't worry guys, this is Warriors Whump!

(Do not call the Protection Squad on me, I have a permit)

Wind was tugging the captain’s scarf again.

It wasn’t an unusual sight to see really, many of the younger heroes did such things while they traveled, or when they made camp. It was an effective way of getting the captain’s attention, Legend would give it that. Even Time did it, and not even with the hesitant caution that most of the others did, their Old Man just reached over and tugged (Legend could swear there was a glint in the man's eye whenever he did it too). Of course, Time was the only one of the older ones who did it, and while Legend just barely counted with the other ‘adult’ heroes, he wasn’t among those who’d tug the blue fabric gently.

Step on it on occasion, yes, but tugging to get the man’s attention? Heck no! He wasn’t a child!

Wind tugged again. Wind was a kid. It was fine for him to do it, and Legend pointedly ignored the warmth in his chest at the sight of the sailor’s bright grin as it was directed at the captain. Ringed fingers rubbed over the affected area as he trailed along near the back of their group with Hyrule, earning a curious glance but otherwise remaining un-noticed as the captain turned his attentions to the young sailor.

“What’s up, Tu- Wind?” ‘Tune’, they called him, Ravio and the captain both. He’d asked once, but neither had explained much more than it being from ‘the war’.

“I think Sky is tiring out, could we-” The sailor’s face twisted up into a frown and he shook himself, rephrasing his question from whatever it had been. “Could you ask Time if we could stop? He’s more likely to listen to you.” Because Time always listened to Warriors. Okay, well, he paid attention. The old Man ignored what was said altogether sometimes, but he never dismissed it right off. He did the same with Twilight, but somehow it felt more mature when the mentor and protégé were the one’s involved.

The captain nodded, lengthening his already freakishly long stride to match that of Time, Wind trailing behind and still attached to the scarf. “Time, mind if we break a minute? Sky’s having trouble breathing again.”

The Skyloftain in question offered a weak smile when the others turned to him, and Legend ignored the clenching in his chest at the heavy cough that erupted from the older hero. “Dust.” Sky explained apologetically.

“It does seem to be mid-summer in this world.” Twilight agreed with an encouraging look at he offered the Chosen Hero his canteen. “What do you say, Time? Day’s still young, think a break will hurt our travel time?”

Well, that was just dumb. They didn’t even know where they were, much less where they were going. There was no deadline and no goal here, stopping to let Sky rest would be perfectly manageable. He sent their leader a look saying as much, and Time met his gaze with a nod, turning to his protégé and Sky both with an easy smile. “I don’t see how that would hurt. Sky, can you make the next hill or should we stop now?”

“Now.” Came the apologetic wheeze. “I don’t think I could handle any kind of-” Another cough cut him off as Twilight gently thumped the other's back (well, gently for Twilight; Sky was strong and could take it, but had that been him he’d be face down in the dirt). “Climbing is bad.” Sky finally pushed out, rubbing at his throat and grimacing.

“Right then.” The boundry was set, Sky was done, so they needed to rest. “Let’s settle here for an hour or so.” Time slung his own pack to the ground and stretched his shoulders with a grimace. “It’s getting into the hotter part of the day anyway, so we might as well save ourselves some sweat for the time being. Keep alert though, boys, we still don’t know where we are.”

The others nodded, but Twilight made as if to respond, only to be cut off by a firm look from his mentor. “No, Twilight, no scouting. Your ankles are still a mess from that accident last week and I’m not having you wander off alone again.”

“Pops, I’m fine-”

“Watch Hyrule.” Time commanded, soft but stern as he nodded to the traveler.

Well excuse him! Legend was doing a fine job of watching his own protégé, thank you very much! He didn’t need the overgrown wolf-puppy helping him out. Of course, he huffed to himself as Twilight wandered over, looking a bit lost and very restless, it wasn’t as though Twilight had another way to channel his nervous energy, and maybe letting someone else hold the kid while he changed the bandages on Hyrule’s hands would make things easier.

He’d only just removed the bandages and washed the burns before he caught wind of it, long ears flickering tentatively at the new sound that cut through the air.

Horses.

The shriek of a wild pony caught the attention of all present, whether they even knew what it was they were hearing or not, and Twilight was already bundling Hyrule into his arms and ducking into the brush at the sound, leaving him frozen in place, muscles coiled and bandages still in hand as his ears flicked to and fro to find the source of the sound.

A herd of wild ponies, bobolinks mounted on their backs with spears in hand, crested the nearby hill, spilling down and around it in a wild and aimless charge until their riders caught sight of the heroes. The sound of a horn was the warning for them to gather their weapons, and seven out of their nine were ready for battle in an instant as Twilight hunkered down with the still injured Hyrule. The kid’s eyes were wide as he curled tight in Twilight’s arms, the both of them trying to hide behind one of the groups spare shields that Twilight had grabbed.

Legend really hoped that wasn’t one of Wild’s.

The horses were on them in an instant, hooves and teeth and jabbing spears making them all dash and dart out of rang, weapons drawn and ready to be used. It made his chest clench and something inside feel like it was tearing when he had to swing his blade against the terror-filled ponies, their eyes rolling wildly as they bucked and sprang, trying both to dismount their monstrous riders and to escape the noise of the battle. The poor things didn’t deserve this, but it wasn’t as if many of them had a choice when it came to downing the horses or letting them continue to trample over the top of them.

Silver and gold flashed as black and red blood both had spilled over the hill side that had been so peacefully serene only minutes before. In the corner of his vision, blue fluttered and waves in the battle, likely Warriors’ Din darned scarf as the captain danced over the field.

The pony before him reared on its hind legs, hooves pawing at the air and froth gathering at its jaws as the bokoblin on its back continued to kick and shriek, only further adding the beast's terror.

Malanya forgive him, he’d clenched his jaw tight and pushed back his feelings as he thrust his sword into the beast's chest, rolling away as the four-hundred pounds of horse fell to the ground, crushing it’s rider beneath it and giving him ample time to slice of the ‘blin’s head off before turn to face the rest of the field. Many of the other horses had either dislodged their riders or otherwise had them shot down by Wild’s swift arrows, and the poor beasts were running free down the path, kicking up more dust than the nine of them had earlier in their flight from the battle field. A few more lay dead on the earth, ‘blins and weapons lying around about them and making the battle all the more difficult with the increased tripping hazard that they caused.

There were still four ponies in their midst though, and more bokoblins besides, and Legend pushed himself forwards to where Four was fighting alone against a few of them, determined to finish this bloody fight already so he could get back to tending his protégé's crispy fingers.

He didn’t know what it was that made him look up, not when he was supposed to be helping Four, not when the enemy was still fighting strongly against them, but he did, and when he did all of the breath stuttered from his lungs with a strangled gasp.

Across the field, a bokoblin had managed to snag the captain’s fluttering blue scarf, holding it tight as the monster’s pony bucked and shrieked, tugging the fabric tight around the hero’s neck as Warriors clawed at the straining fabric.

The captain’s sword had since fallen, to where he couldn’t tell, but with every pull and tug of the scarf, every prance and shift of the pony’s feet, the fabric drew tighter and tighter, and Warriors’ face grew redder and redder.

“Warriors!” Wind shout from across the field startled all of them, but it was the final straw for the poor pony, who bolted, her rider still clutching both the poorly cobbled reins and Warriors’ scarf both tightly in hand, effectively knocking the captain down to the dirt and dragging him behind stampeding hooves as Warriors’ fingers fluttered against the fabric, face as blue as the favored garment and eyes glazing over as rocks and weapons clanged against the man’s pauldron.

Legend was kicking his pegasus boots into action before his mind even rightly knew what he was doing, and despite Four’s angry shouts and frankly astounding insults (really, and they called his mouth dirty!) he’d sped off after the horse, rider, and quickly fading captain.

Each step felt like lead was weighing him down as he pushed all of his strength into his legs, pushing forwards and angling himself towards his goal, eyes fixed on the slowly fading light in the captain’s eyes. Just a bit further, a yard, two feet, a foot. He could touch Warriors’ boot now if he wanted, his tunic, the belt at his waist. At long last, he was level with the pony’s thundering hooves, and without a second thought, the Tempered Sword was slashing through blood-stained blue fabric, the captain’s body rolling in the dirt beside him as the veteran hero stuttered to a halt.

The sword clattered to the ground as he’d fallen to his knees at the older man’s side, fingers fumbling at the tangled fabric and tugging ruthlessly to free his friend.

Angry black and purple bruises banded Warriors’ neck, harsh and angry as the tiniest wheeze of breath had escaped the man.

“Wars, hey, stay with me.” His voice quivered when he spoke, no matter how he tried to fight it, but there was no reply.

“Warriors! You darned idiot! Open those stupid baby-blues!” He’d huffed it with more force this time, himself wheezing for breath at the unexpected run as he worked to loosen the captain’s shirt collar more.

What did one do for a strangulation victim? What did one do for the head wounds that leaked blood onto the dirt beath the captain’s golden hair?

The contents of Legend’s stomach churned in revulsion at the sight of the crimson liquid, and he fought back a gag as his hands had fluttered over the unmoving form of the other, unsure, worried, bordering very nearly on panic as he tried to figure out what to do.

Warriors lay unmoving.

The captain couldn’t die though! Not his brother! Not the snarky ass he liked to pick on and- oh heavens... The last thing he’d said to Wars this morning had been an insult, hadn’t it? He’d insulted the scarf, calling the man a ‘bloody idiot’ for wearing it all the time knowing full well how much it meant to his brother. Oh, stars above, he couldn’t let that be the last thing he’d said to the man’s face! He couldn’t-

Blackened fingers settled over his own, resting easily on Warriors’ chest as he’d stared up, vision blurry as it took in brown curls and glimmering golden green eyes. He didn’t know when his vision had blurred so much, didn’t know when Hyrule had even gotten there, but the kid was already pressing golden sparking hands to the bruises around the captain’s neck, humming softly and brokenly as he worked.

Someone shifted behind him, rough hands catching his shoulders and pulling him back and away to let Hyrule work. Legend let himself fall, staring blankly up at the sky and fighting his rolling stomach as midnight blue eyes, full of concern and fear, had stared down at him. A deep voice had said something, warm hands closing around is shoulders as he blinked up.

Oh shit, he’d ruined the captain’s scarf, hadn’t he?

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. ��I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.