#them getting a cozy morning and enjoying themselves which was cute as hell

[princesandromeda]

.

[candychronicles]

best damn show // h. shinsou

A/N: my take on the bnharem villain/hero swap collab! this was supposed to be super super short but oops...

CHARACTER PAIRING: Shinsou Hitoshi x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,918

WARNINGS: a half-assed sex scene, mentions of toxic coping mechanisms, bad mental health, alcohol and mentions of sex trafficking

SYNOPSIS: a dangerous villain is on the loose and Shinsou will find out who it is no matter what. 

Click here to read more fateful encounters! 

Shinsou turned off the TV with a resounding click, huffing in frustration. he had been there last night, seen the carnage, the chaos and pain that was caused by the villain. he didn’t know who they were, what they looked like, what their plan was, but he sure as hell didn’t want to wait to find out. The Hero Commission had instructed every hero to be on the lookout for suspicious activity but all it created was more chaos and distrust in a time when everyone needed to come together to figure out the issue at hand. being the type of hero that he was, one with a quirk that was not necessarily smiled upon, instantly created problems between himself and his team.

it became quite apparent that he needed to step down for a few days. while everyone claimed that it was for personal health issues, he left because he knew that he was being sussed out and couldn’t be trusted. despite trying his whole life to prove that he was a hero, nobody ever seemed to really see that he was one. even Aizawa thought it was best if he stepped away for the time being as tensions continued to rise between coworkers, friends and acquaintances alike.

to be frank, he was sick of being treated like a dog, someone who was there for entertainment and to do the dirty work of the heroes that wanted to keep their shiny crowns spotless. he was sick of being treated like less than scum on the pond, gum on a shoe or even trash littered on the side of the road. there were very few people in his life that truly believed in him and what he could do and while that was normally enough, it wasn’t today. there was someone truly dangerous on the rise, someone who could destroy entire cities if they wanted to, especially with the influence they had, and he wasn’t going to let them get away.

that’s how he ended up sneaking around the site of the initial attack. there was very little evidence there, everything cleared out from the cops, firemen and cleaning crews, but a little flyer about a bar stuck out like a sore thumb between two dull gray cement blocks. he plucked it out with his fingers and examined the barely held together paper, just managing to make out an address.

fuck it, might as well go. the worst that will happen is i get drunk and Kaminari will have to drag my ass back him, but honestly, he’s put me through worse.

with that thought in mind, he strolled to the bar near where the attack happened. the place was small and cozy and certainly not like anything he was expecting. a few people mingled around, chatting and laughing and nobody batted an eyelash when he walked in with his hood up and hands in his pocket. sliding into a chair, he signaled with one hand for the bartender to come and take his order. in what seemed like an instant, a neat whiskey, double, was placed in front of him with a kind nod.

before he had a chance to sip on his drink, another patron slipped in next to him. you were barely paying attention and apologized profusely when you realized you practically pushed him off his chair.

“i am so so sorry! i slid in here like a chicken with my head cut off. have you ever actually seen that happen before? it’s honestly quite terrifying,” you started, laughing at your own antics before continuing, “let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

“are you hitting on me?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he quirked an eyebrow at you, studying your flushed face and doey eyed expression.

“well, your hood is up so i can’t really see how cute you are. i’m honestly just half assed drunk and feeling extra nice tonight. no flirting here!”

he chuckled before flipping his hood down, cocking his head towards the bartender as he downed his drink in one gulp. you admired his face, the way it barely scrunched up despite the taste, his adam’s apple bouncing up and down.

“one more please! actually, make that two.”

you and Shinsou spent the whole night laughing about what seemed like the dumbest things: how many vertebrae giraffes had in their neck, how many ice cubes you could each fit in your mouth at one time, how crayons were made, and who could take a shot with a straight face. the latter led you two to being absolutely hammered as you stumbled out of the bar at a crisp three in the morning.

“s’nice meeting you S-shinsou! we should do this a-again sometime,” you stated matter-of-factly, laughing at the confused look on his face.

he spent a few seconds pondering the situation before agreeing to meet you here in a few days, sloppily exchanging numbers and hoping that they were right before he walked you back to your apartment, citing that it wouldn’t be fair as a hero for him to not escort you home to your safe spot.

the next morning resulted in a pounding headache as he sat up groggily from the couch, still dressed in all black from the night before. despite not learning anything about the villain that had caused the attack, he had to admit that his night was still nice.

the next few days before you two were supposed to meet up, Shinsou went full vigilante. he spent hours scouring any database he could for underground information about the villain. they were calling themselves “nightcrawler” and they were an internet sensation, spewing opinions about The Hero Commission, how villainous and cruel they were, how people and their quirks were being suppressed by this glamorized shit show. he snorted at the opinions, half agreeing with what they were saying but not so much on the way they were going about the situation.

every lead led him to a dead end. people knew of them but not who they were, what they looked like and certainly not where they were. he was able to gather some minor information from lackeys that claimed a man at an underground fighting ring might know something about nightcrawler but nothing was set in stone.

before he knew it, he was meeting you again at the bar, feeling guiltier than ever for acting like some righteous hero when he was a borderline vigilante at this point. you didn’t seem to care who he was, what kind of job he had or what his boring routine was like. you wanted to hit deep, spilling dark secrets to each other, like how depressed you felt sometimes living a boring life behind a desk, how he felt like he wasn’t really a hero, how you drank to cope with the pain sometimes, how he was doing exactly the same. eventually, he spilled to you how he was technically still a hero but doing some not so legal digging on the side as he got benched due to the distrust because of his quirk.

you frowned as you watched him confess how he felt, emotion after emotion rolling over him in waves, from sadness to anger to confusion to defeat. you sympathized with every word that came out of his mouth, not understanding what it was like to be a hero but hurting with every word nonetheless.

“well, what’s your next move?” you finally asked after a few moments, watching the gears turn in his head as he processed your words.

“i heard through the grapevine that a certain shady underground fighting ring might have some more information on the whereabouts of nightcrawler.”

you prodded him for all the details, grinning in delight when he mentioned the name of where he wanted to go. without saying another word, you yanked him off his feet, throwing cash down on the bar to pay for your drinks as you dragged him out of the place and down only a few blocks. he spent the whole time bewildered and confused but judging by your determined stance and wicked smile, he figured he knew where you were taking him.

the entrance wasn’t anything spectacular. in fact, it was quite dingy, a cellar amongst garbage. you kicked the trash bags out of the way and pulled the doors open, motioning for Shinsou to follow you, pulling the cellar shut tight behind you as you walked down the dimly lit path to another metal door.

knocking twice and then once more, a man eyed you and Shinsou up and down, asking for the password, which you gleefully cheered out. the man grunted then opened the door fully, telling you to enjoy your time. Shinsou jumped when the clang of metal sounded out but was instantly pulled in towards the scene in front of him. there were people all over the place shouting and cheering as two burly men fought in the ring in front of him. none of the people looked like they should’ve been there. people with bright green dyed hair, women in business suits, men lounging around in sweatpants and holey t-shirts, people of all races and ethnicities gathered together to watch.

it was like a scene out of a movie, the chaos and confusion almost being enough to stun a person where they stood, but Shinsou was trained to react to anxiety inducing situations and quickly began scanning around to find the man that might have known what was going on with nightcrawler.

murmuring a quick “stay here,” Shinsou delved into the crowd, spotting the man in charge quite easily, watching the way he cockily examined the fight and all its inhabitants like he owned them.

“hey, we need to have a little chat,” he stated, staring the man directly in the eyes.

“buddy, i don’t know-” the man was cut off as he became enraptured in Shinsou’s quirk.

it took only a few moments before the man was a blubbering mess, but he still wouldn’t crack on who nightcrawler was.

“listen man, she’ll kill me if she finds out i said anything,” he cried.

that was enough information for him to go off and with one final nod, he slipped back into the shadows to find you eagerly cheering on the fight, shoulder to shoulder with a pretty girl with red hair as you two chatted animatedly about what was happening.

“ready to go princess?” he questioned, watching you flush a bright pink underneath the harsh stage lights before you abruptly turned around to smash your lips against his own.

he stood there shocked for a few moments but before you could fully pull away, his lips were back on yours, this time fervent in worship.

the walk back to your apartment was excruciating, kisses being exchanged as Shinsou kept a watchful eye out for any seedy people, especially since you were so close to the latest villain attacks.

when you finally entered your apartment, it was all teeth gnashing together, clothes being practically torn off one another as you explored every inch of your bodies. his hands on your hips, trailing up to tweak your nipples, swallowing your moans with his mouth. your hands tangled in his messy hair, down to the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, not wanting to miss a moment of him. you didn’t know what he was going through or what possessed him to call you that nickname but you weren’t going to pretend that you weren’t absolutely infatuated with him.

to him, the nickname just slipped. you were so cheesy, so angelic and innocent and yet badass and strong at the same time. the things you went through in life, how you persevered despite it all, made his heart burst out of his chest. it was as if you almost understood him at an atomic level despite only knowing him for a few days. you shared the same morales, the same commonalities, what you wanted to do with your life, how you could change the world if you wanted to. he drank it all up with deep passion, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he bottomed out inside of you, desperate to hear your moans and whines, to feel you melt underneath his touch.

after what felt like hours and seconds all at once, you collapsed on his chest, drunk off of sex, sweat clinging to your skin like a sheet. you absentmindedly traced your fingers up and down his chest, admiring the swirl of purple hair tufting from his pecs.

“Shinsou,” you started, waiting for his drowsy hum before continuing, “if you could really change the world for the better, would you do it? no holds barred?”

he contemplated you for a moment before responding, “i don’t think i’m cut out to change the world, especially if it means hurting people in the process.”

you hummed in thought before softly whispering, “i think out of any of the heroes, you’d be the one to really change the world. i mean, you’re the one who’s sitting here, kicked out all because the people who you’re supposed to trust with your life can’t even look you in the eye. you’ve suffered so much, struggled so much and yet here you are fighting to catch this villain.”

you paused to collect your thoughts before starting again, “i mean, i don’t know if i could do the whole killing thing. it seems like killing just leads to more killing, and then when will it end? but i don’t think causing a little chaos to get someone’s attention is so bad. property damage to the capitalistic animals that run this country, to the politicians who can look a depressed person in the eye and tell them they should just die, to the people who turn blind eyes to the injustices of this world. i mean, would that be so bad? would that ever really solve anything?”

Shinsou blinked once, twice, three times before shrugging his shoulders.

“i don’t really know if i can disagree with you on that one. i don’t know if i’d ever be able to go against something like The Hero Commission but if i could, i probably would. it doesn’t really matter now though. I’ll probably get kicked out after i find her anyways.”

“her?”

“nightcrawler. the man said she was a woman. it’s not much but it’s a start.”

you hummed in agreement, snuggling up into his side as you began to drift off into sleep, feeling safer than ever in his arms.

the next morning, Shinsou woke up to find out that the man he talked to the night before was dead. you were nowhere to be found and he began panicking before he heard the shower running and you humming to yourself, clearly happy and satisfied with the previous night's actions.

“hey, princess?” he questioned, knocking on the door and opening it to peek inside, watching the steam billow out.

“what’s up?” you asked, peering from around the curtain.

“i’ve got to check something out. i’ll swing by later, yeah?”

you pouted but nodded, blowing him a kiss before closing the curtain to continue your routine.

the walk to the underground club was much shorter than the night before now that his head was clear. there were police swarming the scene but one flash of his hero license and he was let on premises.

a few questions later and he was able to get all the information he needed. nightcrawler apparently found out the man slipped up and sent a lackey to dispose of him. turns out he was also in the sex trafficking business and used the shady underground fight club to hide the even shadier business of women and children. it turned his stomach to hear what was going on but couldn’t help but feel satisfied a sick man like him was no longer around to live.

he spent the rest of the day combing over clues as to who she may be. according to the police, she was there the night he was murdered. rumors spread that she had been planning her next attack as was using the man for intel. how they managed to get that much information but still didn’t know anything about her threw him off more than he could imagine.

before he had a chance to swing back to your apartment, he got a call from the head of his agency asking for a meeting. he swallowed thickly, wondering if they knew what he was doing behind the scenes. a quick ride and he was standing in front of the agencies shiny glass building trying not to throw up.

“Shinsou, good to see you! please, have a seat,” the corporate man stated, motioning for him to sit down across the desk.

he took two large strides and firmly planted himself down, staring the man in the eyes before nodding.

“now, Shinsou, we really appreciate everything you’ve done for this organization, but with the recent rampant villain attacks, we feel it best to place you on temporary leave until things blow over. that may be a few weeks or a few months but we can’t have our agency tarnished by representing someone who is so…”

“villainous?”

“sure, that word could work. i was going to say odd, but nonetheless. all we need you to do is sign right here saying you understand and we’ll make sure to get the checks sent out to you to cover your pay while you’re away.”

he stared at the paper for a few moments before delicately picking it up with his hands and proceeding to rip it in half. he wasn’t sure what caused him to do that but he didn’t care. at that point, he was done being treated like some villain when he was only trying to be the best hero he could be. with a small chuckle at the man’s stunned face, he muttered an “i quit” before walking out of the office with his head held high.

by the time he arrived at your apartment door late that night, he was absolutely panicking. how could he just quit his job as a hero so easily? he fought tooth and nail to be the best version of himself and it seemed to never be enough. he was in near tears when you opened the door, a confused look on your face before you motioned for him to come in and sit down on your couch, offering him a glass of water as you sat waiting for him to speak.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” you finally asked with a sigh, placing your hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing up and down.

“i-i quit my job, i just did it. i don’t know what came over me but they wanted to put me on leave and sign some dumb non-disclosure agreement and i just couldn’t do it. they fucked me over so bad and i just didn’t want to be their lackey anymore.”

you signed once more, flopping back into the couch before abruptly sitting up straight, looking him dead in the eye.

“Shinsou, i need to tell you something, okay? and i need you to listen to the whole story before you freak out on me.”

he nodded and that was the only confirmation you needed to continue.

“i’m nightcrawler. before, i was a hero and a damn good one at that. i was trained by The Hero Commission personally to be a faceless assassin. i did their bidding for the greater good, or so i told myself, but the killing became too much for me when they ordered me to kill children. i just couldn’t do it. and so they began framing me, creating me to be the bad guy that they always wanted. they’ve attempted to kill me before but they created a monster instead, someone who can fight and survive even when the odds are stacked against her. that attack that’s being blamed on me? it was them who attempted to frame me. they killed innocent people all to bring me down. the man at the nightclub? i didn’t kill him. i’ve stayed silent for awhile but i’ve been slowly building up my own army, trying to get people to join my side and my cause to fight against the injustices that are being forced upon us. Shinsou, i understand if you hate me for the rest of your life, but i also know you better than i think i should, and i know that you deep down would want to fight with me and for my cause, for the fall of The Hero Commission and the rise of something that would actually put everyone and their quirks first.”

Shinsou stared at you with a blank look in his eyes. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what was going on but you waited for him to respond. you would understand if he turned you in, understand if he killed you on the spot, but you secretly hoped that somewhere, deep down, he felt the same way that you did, fed up with being treated like a criminal, thrown to the streets like wild dogs, hunted and chased for sport.

after a few moments, you put your hands out, wrists up and pushed together as you waited for him to restrain you and take you away. he looked at you once again, this time eyes squinted together as if he was trying to figure out what you were doing.

“you can take me in. i wouldn’t be mad.”

“i’m not turning you in.”

you blinked owlishly at him, unsure of where this was going, but before you were able to speak again, he put one finger up to hush you.

“i get where you’re coming from and honestly, your ideas, your plans, they all make sense, but i don’t think i could ever be a part of that. i don’t think i’m the person that ever gets to make change. i’ll always be some outcast, and that’s okay with me.”

“Shinsou,” you started, not sure how to broach the topic, “you’re exactly what we need. a hero who fought so hard to be the best only to get shunned only when you were trying to help. i left the clue about the bar hoping someone would take notice, someone like you, that wanted to fight for a cause that meant something and now here you are. broken, confused, scarred but still strong enough to fight. we need you Shinsou. i need you.”

you held your hand out for him, waiting. you truly didn’t know if he was going to join, if he wanted to become something that he swore he never was, but they pushed him, treated him like scum and it was time for him to fight back. if he joined you, you would make sure he would never be treated that way again. instead, you would make sure he was someone who would always be included, someone who’s opinions and thoughts matter, someone who mattered.

he took a deep breath, fear and determination etched in his face before he clasped your hand in his own, squeezing firmly and looking you in the eye.

“if they want to paint us as villains, let's give them the best damn show we can.”

[starryasmo]

Cottagecore MC x Demon Brothers

this has a bonus chapter with the undateables in the making!! cross posted on my ao3, which can be found in my bio ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ☆☆

——— 

Sometimes, Lucifer wondered truly how innocent you could be.

You were simply the purest. You were like a little woodland fairy, flitting about and bouncing upon mushrooms and through the foliage of the Devildom as you skittered about, doing your tasks diligently and with a warm smile all the while. Your delight at seeing a tree in your room was like that of the warm sun of the human world, the sun that Lucifer remembered as golden rays and a warm embrace. You would hum as you completed your tasks and when you finished, you would beam proudly at your handiwork, and Lucifer would swear on his life that he could see the pale white sparkles surrounding your face as you preened at your hard work, bringing an innocuous light to the usually dark and enigmatic Devildom.

You were as cute as a human could be, with doll lashes framing sweet gentle eyes and fluttering against cherubic cheeks that flushed with pink. Mammon had even tried to market you as a doll to sell at one point, and Leviathan liked to have you standing next to his Ruri-chan life-sized cardboard cutout or figurines to make it feel like his collection was complete. You smelled of tea leaves and spring petals and warm sugar cookies and soft cream puffs, and the scents brought a small dosage of serotonin to Lucifer’s heart whenever you passed by. When you weren’t in your RAD uniform, you liked to dress up in pale peasant blouses, flouncy pinafore dresses, and cozy knits that Satan would gift you. You were like a forest wanderer, skipping along the trails of the Devildom as if it were a leisure stroll through the woods, wicker basket hanging off your arm as you hummed, carefree and bright. Had you been anyone else, Lucifer would have scolded you for your naivety as to walking carelessly in a world of ravenous demons, but one look in your pure, sweet eyes, and the words died on his tongue like melted snow.

You had even managed to attain the favor of the other six brothers, albeit you had no clue that you had six of the seven overlords of Hell vying for your attention and your gentle smile as you invited the Little D’s to have tea with you in your room.

Mammon would accompany you to the human world market on Wednesdays when you went to go shop for groceries and to buy little trinkets. He’d trail after your happy figure, your linen apron fluttering in the early spring breezes as you filled your basket with vegetables and meat, as well as sweet bread, milk, and sugar. At first, he’d been reluctant, trudging after you boredly because it had been his obligation to accompany you to the human world and bring you back. However, after he’d noticed you always tucking the afternoon tea menus into the pockets of your dress and buying hand painted teacups from the shop with the elderly owner more often than not, he’d questioned your motives, and you introduced him to starting collections of things that you found pleasing. Now, whenever Wednesday struck, he was pulling you along excitedly to the human realm, eager to add on to his collections of cute rings, little trinkets such as lockets and charms, and other treasures that caught his eye. You had even bought him a comical-like treasure chest for him to store his newest finds in. Every time he finished a collection, something new would catch his eye, and he’d be rushing to buy it. It was one of the perfect ways to spend leisure time with the second born. He especially loved it when you invited him to bake with you, surprisingly. He passed it off with the excuse that he could sell some of the pastries and make good money, but he found himself eagerly looking forward to you waking him up gently in the wee hours of the morning on the weekends so you two could sneak into the kitchen and bake something. Those hours were usually spent baking batches upon batches of treats, enough to satiate Beelzebub’s ravenous urges and still have enough left over for everyone else. You two would dust powdered sugar on each other’s cheeks, sharing laughs and jokes as you cleaned each other up. The treat that Mammon liked to bake with you the most was your infamous honey tarts. They tasted delicious, and they reminded him of gold, therefore combining his two favorite things — gold, and you. He loved spending time with you that way, and when you’d offered to feed him a honey tart once, he was sure that something in him short circuited.

Leviathan wasn’t as easily convinced as Mammon had been. Being someone who preferred to stay in his room, he was a lot more hesitant to allow you to visit his room, especially considering your fondness with nature and his aversion to it, as cute as you were. However, you had noticed the plants that he’d gotten just to give his limited edition porcelain Ruri-chan flower pots a purpose, and your sweet and gentle smile had twisted into a slight frown, which had caused his heart to shrink and tighten up in slight fear upon seeing your calm and loving demeanor fade, although he would deny it to this day. When you lifted the pots from their shelves, he’d tutted anxiously, warning you with rushed words to be careful. You had sighed and carefully emptied out the pots, filling them with richer soil from the farms of the human world. You had brought some flower seeds with you, and you had pulled Leviathan over from his game to help you. He couldn’t deny that the way that your soft and gentle hands guided his to tend to the flowers was something that pleased him greatly, and when the first blooms had sprouted from the soil, you had smiled before giving each bloom a small kiss on the bud, and while the sight was totally moe, it sparked up that familiar twinge of envy in Leviathan’s heart, which he shoved down quickly in favor of seeing your beautiful smile as you kissed the blossoms. Your hands were gentle in handling both the flower pots and in squeezing his and untangling his fingers from his hair during anxiety attacks or episodes, and they were probably his favorite thing about you. They were incredibly soft, and your fingers were delicate and smelled like the light lemon pies you would bring in during gaming sessions to feed him while he played. You loved baking for him, and he loved it when you baked for him, especially when you would decorate the desserts to make them seem like they were straight out of a fantasy anime. He honestly liked sneaking peeks into the kitchen to see you baking more than he liked the desserts themselves, but he’d be damned if he ever told you that. After all, he needed the perfect dating sim route to go slow and steady, right?

Getting along with Satan was something that had come surprisingly easy to you once you got past his distrusting facade, because nobody, especially not a human, could possibly be this gentle and sweet . When you had earned his trust, however, you two would pass the wee hours after studying by curling up before the ornate fireplace and reading together, cups of enchanted cocoa steaming next to you. You enjoyed reading with him — his presence was comfortable and warm, and more often than not, he would read to you in a silky smooth voice that you absolutely adored. When Diavolo had sent you to the human world to retrieve some of your belongings in order to make you feel more at home, one of the things you had brought back was a thick book full of fairytales and worn pages. That was the thing that had caught his eye the most, and when you’d noticed him reading not-so-subtly over your shoulder, you had shot him a gentle smile and began to read the story of Hansel and Gretel aloud to him. Of course, he didn’t understand the merit of the story, but hearing your voice reading all these fantastical stories of grandiose warriors and heartwarming romances was enough to make his heart melt. Your voice was probably his favorite thing about you — it was soothing and sweet, like a sip of his favorite tea. Earl grey, which you somehow knew already because you were a clever little pixie of a human who could read him like an open book, no pun intended. You even made it the way he liked it. He especially loved hearing you talk to his cats about mindless little things, even if he thought that they couldn’t understand you and you couldn’t understand them. Truth be told, he liked hearing you chatter to any woodland creature; when you two went to the human realm together, he noticed that you would always stop to tell the birds about your day, or strike up a friendly conversation with the bunnies who lived in the rosebushes, or tell the deer that seemed to draw towards you about Satan himself and how kind he was. You always seemed so happy to talk to them, even if they couldn’t understand you. He was becoming unsure of that, however, but he ignored it. Why dwell on that when he could watch you chatter with the frogs and ducks by the pond instead?

Asmodeus was quick to smother you with affection. How could he not? You were as cute as a button and twice as precious, and you smelled like honey and wild berries! You were simply too cute for him to resist. Almost immediately after your transfer to the House of Lamentation, he’d whisked you into his room and sat you down for an impromptu makeup session. You’d been a bit overwhelmed at the fast pace, but eventually just let it happen as you let him do your makeup. He couldn’t stop crooning at how cute you looked, both naturally and with touches of subtle but elegant makeup here and there. He had definitely taken you out to find clothes that you liked at Majolish, and he’d entertained your hobbies of collecting little trinkets by taking you to shops that sold items that you liked. In return, you gifted him little homemade pieces of jewelry you made, such as the gold necklace with flower charms and little baby buds on it that you’d given him for his birthday, or the honey earrings and bee pendant you’d made him as a thank you gift for taking you to a farmer’s market when everyone else had been busy. Picnics in the human realm were also a common occurrence with you two, and they usually ended in you two weaving flowers into each other’s hair and telling each other stories as you snacked on blueberry cheesecake and passionfruit tarts. You would bring two portable cups for the two of you, and the drink would be different every time — some days, it would be raspberry cordial for him and a berry mix for you, and other days he would get a sweet latte while you sipped on honey tea. There was never a dull moment with you two, and you loved running through grassy lavender fields with him, especially when he would catch up with you and lift you by your waist, the breeze filtering through your hair and ruffling the skirt of your dress as you let out giddy giggles that brought a blossom of warmth to his chest, right under his heart. The sun would beam down upon you two and kiss your scalps gently, and you would lean on Asmodeus’ shoulder with a contented smile, never really noticing the faint twinges of pink on his cheeks or the way he subtly pulled you closer to him.

Beelzebub, truth be told, didn’t really like you at first, although he never expressed it. You reminded him too much of Lilith, too much of her breezy laugh and gentle smile and pure demeanor, and even though he knew that you weren’t trying to replace her and that you didn’t know what had happened, it still hurt to look at you and see Lilith’s face flicker behind his eyelids. However, when the events of freeing Belphegor and you dying had occurred, Beelzebub had felt a primal desire to protect you, defend you, save you , rip through his body like a papercut. He wanted to protect you. You , not Lilith. So he embraced that change and tried to be a bit more friendly with you, which he found surprisingly easy. No doubt had you noticed the shift in his demeanor around you, and while it miffed you slightly that it took you dying and freeing his twin brother for it to happen, you were still happy that he didn’t seem to hate you anymore. You weren’t Lilith, he knew. And he didn’t see her when he looked at you anymore. What sealed the deal for him, however, was when you were put on cooking duty. He’d tried Solomon’s cooking before and left his plate untouched for the rest of the night, but when he came downstairs on your first night to see what you had prepared for them, he was met with a pleasant smell that had his mouth filling with drool as he trailed after the scent, right into the kitchen, like a moth drawn to a flame. Luckily, you were plating the food by the time he made it into the kitchen, and his eyes roved over a main course of sweet chickpea potato curry with halloumi and roasted cherry tomatoes, accompanied with mushrooms and sauced lamb chops. Next to the bowl of curry was a plate of strawberry beignets dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with maple syrup. You had ever so kindly offered him one — one , mind you — and he’d been stunned at how incredible your cooking was. Needless to say, with your constant gifts to Beelzebub in the form of steamy homemade soup with toasted croutons or treacle tarts with dollops of cream, it wasn’t a surprise that he found himself adoring you and showing you more affection than any of the other brothers.

Belphegor, of course, hadn’t met you until a bit later after your transfer. Despite your frankly adorable features and demeanor, he wasn’t below deceiving you and killing you. Although he acted like he adored you and was smitten with your gentle and sweet personality, his hands still gripped your throat until what was supposed to be your final breath. However, unlike all of his other victims, something in him had shriveled up in horror upon seeing your delicate eyes wide with fear and pain. Something in him had eaten at his stomach uncomfortably when he saw the blood from your neck dripping down his nails and staining the pure white of your linen apron. His mind had been flooded with a split second tidal wave of pure shock and horror at what he had done when your fragile body ceased to move. When you came back due to Barbatos’ power, he couldn’t help but throw his arms around you desperately after he got over the tiny spark of anger in his mind. You, being the sweet and forgiving angel that you were (not literally), dismissed it, and although you were weary around him, you soon learned to lighten up and trust him again. You did slip a few times around him due to reflex, like when you’d accidentally burned your hand against the tray of pastry croissants and golden twist rolls that you’d pulled out of the oven when you turned around and he was suddenly there, sitting on the counter, towering over you. However, you found yourself warming up to him in time, and when you’d invited him to come up to your own little leafy treehouse in the mossy forest, he’d felt a bit honored that you had invited him out of all the brothers. There, you two had shared snacks and pressed your hands against the lilypads in the pond. You two had sat at the edge of the lake, looking around at the variety of mushrooms surrounding you two while your feet dipped in the water, talking about everything and nothing at all. It was just the two of you enjoying a quiet moment together, and when you two had climbed the tall tree back to the treehouse, you fell asleep with your legs loosely tangled together, listening to the sound of rain pattering the windows.

With how quickly you charmed his brothers and were able to get them to be at your every beck and call, even without the pact, Lucifer would have thought that you were an angel in disguise, or perhaps a magical being. Perhaps a pixie, or a woodland fairy, or maybe a little doll come to life.

But he was soon to find out that your charm was all natural, no magic.

It had started when you’d knocked gently on the door to his study, carrying a tray in your slightly shaking hands. Perhaps you were intimidated by him — the thought of your sweet and cheerful nature being withered by fear of him was a thought that made his chest swell with pride. Either way, you had let yourself in upon his approval, setting the tray down on the part of his desk that wasn’t swamped in paperwork.

With a small voice, you explained to him that you’d learned a bit of magic due to your time in the woods, and you had charmed the treats that you brought him — soft tea cakes with sweet glaze and your signature ‘lucky tea’; a brew of dried gold clover, lotus petals, and enchanted honey. The tea cakes were supposed to relieve pains in your muscles and bones, and the glaze was steeped in mountain snow, so it was supposed to relieve Lucifer of the burn in his body due to stress. The tea had calming properties, as well as being charmed to grant the consumer good luck for a short amount of time. You said that you hoped it would help Lucifer breeze through the paperwork stacked on his desk. He hadn’t reacted much other than a slow eyebrow raise, a nod of thanks, and a dismissal. You bowed at the waist and scampered off, clutching the hem of your apron anxiously.

Most of your other interactions had been more lighthearted, like when he’d swiped a small dollop of ganache from where you were baking molten lava cakes. He’d used his finger to smudge the chocolate across your nose, and you blinked, snapping out of your baking trance, before giggling slightly and wiping it off with your thumb, sucking the sweet concoction off of your finger. Lucifer had followed the motion with his eyes and briefly wondered what else he could get away with, if only to elicit those soft little reactions from you.

He also noticed that you never reacted the way anyone else would have when Asmodeus made a dirty joke, or when Mammon nudged you into the more scandalous clothing sections of Majolish. When you heard those comments from Asmodeus, you simply blinked and voiced your confusion. When mammon tried to get you to dress in skimpy leather or latex, you frowned slightly and said that the clothing wasn’t really your type before opting to go over to the sections you usually shopped in.

Later, he learned that you had grown up alone, with only the woods and your otherworldly connection with nature keeping you alive. You had only started interacting with others at the ripe age of eight years old — before that, you lived amongst the small creatures of the forest, feeding off of the foods they brought you, as if they were your family. Perhaps they were. You spent most of your life building shelters for yourself, until you were old enough and experienced enough to begin building your own cottage. It was a quaint little stone cottage, nothing fancy, and it was humble and hidden away, and you absolutely loved it. You had spent most of your life in it, baking tarts and pastries with the ingredients you bought from the merchants in your village in exchange for rare mushrooms, seeds, and plants with healing properties that you seemed to have a sixth sense for finding. Most of your life had been spent frolicking in the woods, swimming in the lake and snacking on pastries of your own creation and chatting with the woodland creatures you encountered. You were a creature of the forest, a creature of flower scented skin and a honey voice.

What an innocent being you were, Lucifer mused over a cup of your lucky tea. The teacup, he noticed, was one of your favorites, the porcelain one with the gold rim and the hand painted floral design. Briefly, he wondered how you found the time to collect all of these things, all while pulling together so many gifts for him and his brothers and still miraculously completing each of your tasks with perfect marks.

His eyes flickered to the plate on the same tray — hand carved and painted by you yourself, and he was the only one who got this privilege; honestly, it was going to make his heart combust — that the tea had come on, the circular dish scattered in crumbs and smears of cream and jam from your latest impulse baking session; heart shaped waffles with cream and raspberry puree. Of course, Beelzebub had immediately poked his head into the kitchen at the smell of fresh fruit and waffles, but you had managed to hide some from his hungry eye — just enough to give to the rest of the brothers. Of course, you had taken the liberty of drawing a little panda bear on one of the two waffles you’d given him, using chocolate and cream, because he was special to you, he knew he was, and because he was special, you gave him special treatment. Just the thought of it brought a prideful smile to his face, lips twisted somewhat informally.

Perhaps he’d made the right choice in sneakily slipping your folder away for future reference during the selection process of the exchange students.

But nobody needed to know that but him.

[hanii-rose]

•Hello again, I��m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤

And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:

The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.

The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.

Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.

And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.

Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•

I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho

_________________________________________

Reunited Part 2

Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader

You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.

"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.

You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.

You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.

“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”

He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.

“Another rough day, huh?”

Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.

“You have no idea…”

Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.

Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.

After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.

“Ya finally done…?”

Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.

“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.

“Yeah.”

The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.

Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.

“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”

Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.

“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”

“Too much work these days…”

You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”

Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.

Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.

It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…

In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.

It was like he turned everything around for you….

Oh, shit.

He did, didn’t he? Fuck!

You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.

Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…

Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?

Oh, that’s right! You get a job.

He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!

Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?

>>

You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.

Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.

And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.

Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.

You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.

Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your

DING!

Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…

Subject: Executive meeting

Dear D-Wing Employee,

Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.

It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.

The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.

Best Regards,

Senior Director, Akari Hina

Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.

Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.

>>

Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.

“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”

Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.

“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”

The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I left after my third year…”

Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.

“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”

Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.

“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”

He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.

“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”

Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?

After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.

“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”

Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.

“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”

The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.

Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.

“Thanks.”

Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.

“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”

Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.

>>

You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.

After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.

Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.

Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?

Wait were you home…?

He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.

Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.

You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.

“W-where did you come from?!”

Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”

Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.

“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”

Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.

“Never.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.

“So, where were you this fine morning?”

Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.

“Garou, where did you go?”

You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.

“Out.”

You quirked a brow, expression unamused.

“I know that!”

He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.

“With a friend.”

Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.

“Oh really? You have friends?”

He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.

>>

HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!

How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.

That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…

You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?

The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.

Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…

You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.

“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”

Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.

“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”

Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.

“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”

Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!

And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.

>>

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.

Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?

He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”

Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.

“A surprise for you, duh…”

He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.

“No, really? What’s the occasion?”

You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’

“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”

Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.

“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”

Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.

“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”

Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.

“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”

Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.

“I’m really proud of you though…”

Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.

“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”

You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.

“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”

You blushed and pulled his cheeks.

“Hey, this doesn’t count!”

He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.

“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”

>>

The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.

“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”

You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.

“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”

He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.

“Too bad I’m not available, right?”

You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.

“Yes, too bad indeed…”

Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.

Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.

“I love you…”

Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.

You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.

“I love you too. So much…”

And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.

It really couldn’t get better than this…

_________________________________________

[bthump]

I saw in the tag of your last reblog that you have « a whole missing scene where Griffith teach Guts how to dance » and this is such a cute idea ! How do you think this would happen ? You often talk about how they have difficulties in the acceptation of their feelings for each other so this type of scene would be so full of mutual pinning and unspoken feelings, it could have so much potential ! I really want to hear your take on this

tyvm for your interest!

lol okay so like, I have this written down actually as a memory in a half-baked fic idea I had ages ago where they all stay in Elfhelm a little while longer, which is probably not going to fit into canon anymore lol. I’ll post the scene because I really have no idea what I was doing with the fic and I’m never going to finish it properly anyway, but I re-read it after getting your ask and I do still kinda like this bit.

Griffith’s palm felt warm against his. It wasn’t the first time Griffith had taken his hand, but those were brief moments, like helping him to his feet after a battle, not… this.

“Ready to try again?”

Guts scowled. Should his hand be firmer against Griffith’s back? He was supposed to be pushing him around, right? But he kept to his tentative brush of fingers and nodded. Griffith began counting a very slow rhythm. 

One, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three.

He took two steps and Griffith started laughing.

“What?”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he accused with a grin once he’d caught hold of himself. “You can’t be this hopeless - I’ve seen how graceful you are with a sword in your hand.”

“Then I’ll put my sword in a dress and practice with that instead.”

With a smirk Griffith said, “Would it help if I put on a dress?” and all Guts did was laugh.

“Maybe. We could head into the city, spend the day tryin’ on clothes instead.”

“Never thought you of all people would be so reluctant to learn a new skill.” Griffith stuck his tongue out like a kid, pouting exaggeratedly. “There’s more to life than war, you know.”

“All right, all right, let’s try it again. Which foot do I start with?”

Neither of them had moved their hands in that time. Three little points of contact, like the beats Griffith was counting again, like the years he’d spent with him, like the days until the ball Griffith was trying in vain to convince him to attend.

Griffith’s hair had shone like gold in the sun.

The elves were having another party. Something seasonal, something to do with being in the middle of summer. They celebrated nothing so often that it was like being back in Midland during wartime. He smiled wistfully at the thought. Nothing would ever really feel like that again. 

Roderick, Magnifico, and the children were most likely down in the thick of it and Casca was with Farnese, nowhere near ready to brave a crowd, or so he’d heard, so Serpico probably wasn’t far from them. That left Guts with only his sword for company. He was sitting on a hill away from the crowds and watching the sunset, close enough to hear the music, far enough to avoid polite hellos.

The song lilted in a slow one-two-three rhythm, and Guts couldn’t seem to refocus his mind elsewhere. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon dancing and stumbling and teasing each other. Guts had picked it up fairly easily after all, though he’d exaggerated his clumsiness to draw out the learning process. To make Griffith laugh.

Once he’d managed to smoothly twirl Griffith two different ways, flinging his hair around his head like a halo, the sun was nearly below the horizon and they’d called it a day. 

He hadn’t bothered to show up to that ball anyway. He wondered, now, if Griffith had missed him. But then, two weeks after that, nothing and everything changed, and he’d been well on his way to making the biggest mistake of his life. One night in a thousand didn’t really matter.

Looking back, there was something about that period of only a little over a month, after they’d met Zodd for the first time and before Guts had overheard those world-changing words, that felt unreal. Dream-like. Surely he hadn’t been as happy as he remembered. Surely it wasn’t possible for him to feel as… at home as he thought he’d felt then. 

After all, if he had felt so damn cozy with the Hawks why had nothing more than a few words made him feel so lost and out of place? But then - hadn’t it been only a few words that had planted that contentment in his chest? 

For your sake.

After their final attempt Guts had suddenly dipped Griffith as deeply as he could, just to get a reaction - a gasp, wide eyes, a mock glare - and instead Griffith had closed his eyes and gone where Guts’ hands took him easily, kicking up a foot for added flair and trusting Guts to take all of his weight.

His rose-coloured lips were parted slightly and bent in a tiny smile.

And Guts hadn’t even considered kissing them, back then.

It seemed absurd in hindsight. He’d spent hours dancing with the most beautiful man he or anyone else had ever known, and never once had the thought crossed his mind. And now, four years later, he couldn’t drive the thought away.

What would it have felt like, to close those last few inches of distance? Griffith’s lips had always looked so soft. Guts had noticed that, even though he’d never connected it to the possibility of kissing them. He’d noticed his lips, his eyes the colour of a winter sky, his gently curling hair that fell over his shoulders like the foam of a waterfall, his lithe body, his long legs, his wiry arms and the diamond muscle under his shoulder blades.

Would it have changed anything?

If he'd done it, if he’d kissed Griffith, maybe that day when he’d learned how to dance, or maybe after an early morning sparring session, as they sat together, leaning against each other and catching their breaths, or maybe during a celebratory night of drinks, one of those times when the stars shone bright above them and they found themselves wandering away from the rest, to a quiet corner or empty tent, just to relax and talk and enjoy each others’ company - if Guts had kissed him, and if Griffith had kissed him back, wouldn't he have stayed?

Guts slammed his fist against the tree at his back.

What the hell did any of it matter? Griffith was gone. All that was left was an empty shell. Maybe, maybe - maybe it would’ve changed everything, or maybe it would’ve changed nothing. Maybe he was deluding himself, working his brain into pointless tangles and it didn’t matter because Casca was wrong and Griffith never wanted him like that. Maybe he would’ve been the one to change his mind and push Griffith away. Maybe they would’ve started fucking and Guts still would’ve overheard that damn conversation with Charlotte and decided to leave.

Maybe he’d be right here, right now anyway, and the only difference would be a memory to go with his insistent imagination.

[carmenlire]

Become Your Flower

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Jimin sits down behind the register with a sigh. Working as a dining hall card swiper has one perk and one perk only-- it pays for the part of tuition not covered by loans and scholarships.

Thankfully today is only a two hour shift, not his usual four, and so as he reaches out to start swiping about a hundred campus I.D. cards, Jimin tells himself that it could be worse.

That’s never been truer towards the end of his shift, when his ass is mostly numb and he’s starting to look for his replacement to show up at any minute. On Thursday mornings, his replacement is always an extremely dour sophomore who spends more time on her shift looking at her phone than actually swiping meal plans.

Jimin’s seen regulars during her shifts swipe their own cards without hesitation as Jessica obliviously continues to stare at her phone.

Still. There’s about eight minutes left until shift change when Jimin sees him.

Jimin doesn’t know much about the guy that comes to the Dining Hall every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning. He knows that his fashion runs towards black oversized clothing and that he has eclectic taste in music, thanks to wildly varying noise that can be heard from his headphones that the student always, without fail, pulls down to around his neck when checking out.

It’s a small gesture, but Jimin appreciates the hint of politeness. They never talk more than the guy murmuring a small thanks as Jimin accepts his card and runs it, before he’s walking away.

On Tuesdays, the kid likes to sit for awhile at one of the small tables along the edge of the floor to ceiling windows in the dining area. Sometimes he's reading but more often than not, he has a sketchbook out or his laptop open and seems to be completely focused on its contents. On Mondays and Thursdays, he’s usually running around picking up his usual bottle of banana milk and a breakfast burrito or protein bar before barreling out and ostensibly off to class.

Maybe Jimin pays a bit more attention to him than he does to the other students he sees with unerring frequency but he just can’t help it. Jimin doesn’t know his name but he’s pieced together a dozen tidbits of information that all add up to making the guy someone he would love to get to know better.

At the top of that list? This guy somehow manages to be both a cutie and mouthwatering, dangerously hot. It’s a level of attractiveness that sometimes makes Jimin shy away in the face of such sheer beauty. For all his oversized clothing, the guy is built-- witnessed by the one time Jimin saw him out of the dining hall one evening when he spotted the guy walking back to his dorm from the gym.

In a sleeveless tank that showed off the tattoos winding their way up his arm, with his hair damp and falling into his eyes, Jimin was done for. The next time he’d seen his favorite customer, Jimin had fumbled with his card and it had fallen to the floor.

As he’d felt his face start to burn with embarrassment at his clumsiness, the cute guy had dropped and picked up his I.D., handing it over to Jimin again with a small smile before leaving promptly like always.

Inside, Jimin had been dying but he’d managed to give a curt nod of thanks and acknowledgement back-- mostly after the guy had left but still. He’d tried.

All of which, brings Jimin to now where cute student walks into the cafeteria looking like death warmed over. His hoodie swallows him up and his hair is a mess-- looks like a combination of having left his place without running a brush through it, like he’s been running a hand through it in frustration instead. He’s single minded as he walks to the cooler where flavored milks are kept and Jimin thanks the little lull just after breakfast time for being able to, unobtrusively of course, watch the kid pick up a protein bar before he’s starting towards the register where Jimin sits.

Eyes flying down to the screen that he stares at with a laser focus, Jimin sees the guy reach for the pocket of his jeans for his wallet absently. However, he looks up when the guy starts patting his back pocket with a sort of furious panic that can only mean one thing.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, though, as he lets the guy rummage around in his bookbag looking for his student I.D. From his periphery, he sees his replacement walking towards him.

Sparing a moment to marvel at how she never trips or runs into anything with her eyes glued to her phone, Jimin reaches out to get the guys attention.

“Misplaced your meal card?”

The guy looks up with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He stammers a little, voice gruff like he hasn’t used it in a few days. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I got all the way here just to realize I left it at home.” Shoulders falling with a dejected sigh, he takes a step back. “I’ll just go put everything back, sorry again--”

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, trying to gently stop the waterfall of words coming out in an embarrassed hush. “Don’t worry about it.”

Without letting himself think too much about it, Jimin swipes his own meal plan before looking up at cute guy with a soft grin. “You’re good to go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

The guy glances between the register and Jimin’s face, which isn’t red at all thank you very much. “You shouldn’t have done that; what if you get into trouble? I should have doublechecked to make sure I had my card before making you do this--”

Laughing a little at the guy's face, which is painted in equal shades of relief and guilt, Jimin just waves his concern away. “I promise no one cares that much and no offense, but you look like you could use a good deed. I’m fine, you’re fine, no one’s getting in trouble. Looks like a win-win-win to me, doesn’t it?”

Jimin doesn’t let the smile leave his face as the guy narrows his eyes at him for a minute, looking like he’s trying to see into Jimin’s soul to make sure he hasn’t inconvenienced him. Finally, he sighs and Jimin relaxes too at his acceptance.

“Okay then,” the guy offers with his own smile curving his mouth. “Thank you,” he says with an earnest sort of sincerity that makes Jimin want to reach out and pinch his cheek. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been up for 36 hours finishing a midterm and I think I walked here in a fugue state.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Midterms are hell, second only to finals. I hope you ace your class and that your victory breakfast is a nice enough reward for surviving a couple of all-nighters.”

With a sheepish laugh, the guy resettles his bookbag on his shoulder and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sure it will. Thanks again.” Then he’s gone with an awkward wave.

Jimin doesn’t watch him leave, immediately startled by the curt clearing of a throat behind him. Spinning around in his chair, he barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes at his replacement looking annoyed as she types furiously on her phone.

“You were done two minutes ago. Get out of my chair and get to class, Park.”

Going ahead and rolling his eyes, Jimin doesn’t say anything as he logs out of his employee account and leaves the Dining Hall.

Most of the day goes by quickly. He has a couple of classes into the early afternoon followed by his dance elective. Hoseok, his favorite person in the group, is in a chatty mood when practice ends as he dramatically explains how a couple of his other friends need to get over themselves and just start to date already. Jimin laughs along as he hears about how much of an idiot these guys are being.

Apparently, the latest fiasco involves Yoongi making weekly playlists for a Joon and Joon recommending books to Yoongi, which they discuss every week at their favorite coffeeshop. Hoseok takes great pains to explain that he’d joined them the first time thinking nothing of their passing invitation only to see them cozied up together in an oversized chair in the corner, sipping their coffee and holding hands as they took turns arguing their stances on the book's subliminal messages.

“It’s maddening, Jiminie. Honestly, those two are so gone for each other and they don’t seem to realize that it’s not a bro thing to create a playlist titled Songs Almost as Comforting as One of Hyung’s Hugs and that friends don’t just discuss how romantic it would be if they had a partner who was as loving as the hero in whatever damn novel they’re were reading last month. The hinting is so obvious that it’s giving me headaches, I swear.”

“Ah Hoseokie-Hyung, maybe they’re enjoying this in between time, you know? I’m sure they’re both aware of where it’s heading but they want to enjoy the journey. Did you ever think about that?”

Hoseok snorts, leaning down to grab his water bottle before continuing. “No,” he says shortly. “Yoongi-hyung and Joon are just deeply oblivious of the other’s feelings and at this rate, they won’t have their first date until they’re old and gray.” Pausing to take a deep drink of water, Hoseok sighs. “I guess I’ll admit that neither of them seem miserable in their pining. They’ve been best friends since before I joined the-- ah, since before I started school here. It’s always been the two of them, you know?”

Humming a little in thought, Jimin wonders what it would be like to fall so naturally from friends to something more. He has Taehyung and they’re both very vocal on being platonic soulmates, but he can’t help but think that finding someone who has the warmth of a best friend and the devotion of a lover sounds like something else altogether.

With a little pang of his heart-- Jimin’s been tragically single since the end of his freshman year over a year ago-- he squashes down on the mild envy he has for people he’s never even met.

His thoughts break off as he realizes that he still hasn’t answered Hoseok and his friend is looking at him with the shrewd look he usually only reserves for reviewing dance videos.

Clearing his throat, Jimin just manages to offer, “It must be nice,” and thankfully Hoseok changes the subject with a deftness that doesn’t make Jimin feel put on the spot as they start talking about how difficult this new choreo is becoming.

Groaning, Jimin starts to stretch as Hoseok joins him on the floor. “I thought I was in shape but this song makes me feel like an old man. I’m going to start having to up my cardio so I can keep up.”

They commiserate for a few more minutes before Hoseok pulls himself to his feet and starts packing up, citing his evening class across campus. Waving him on, Jimin stretches a few more minutes while replying to the few dozen texts Tae had sent him during the day about new drama he had decided to start watching and was now nine episodes into.

He takes his time back to his apartment off campus and when he opens the front door, he’s immediately assaulted with the view of Taehyung in the living room, raptly watching his show while absently tossing goldfish crackers into his mouth. Watching him for a moment, Jimin doesn’t even bother to sigh as over half the fish miss his mouth entirely to land somewhere on-- or in-- their couch.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung greets him distractedly.

“Hey, Taetae. Show still good?” Jimin ruffles his best friend’s hair on his way to his bedroom.

Leaning into the touch, Tae hums in affirmative. “Have you gotten your crush’s number yet? Or even found out his name?”

Jimin huffs at the directness. He might’ve come home after his first shift of the semester only to regale Taehyung with the story of how a student at the dining hall had walked up to the end of the check-out line that morning-- radiating an intimidating aura, especially in his all black get-up-- before he’d watched the guy help the person behind him in line collect all their loose change that had fallen out of their purse and all over the floor.

It was like night and day between the guy’s abashed smile as he waved off the thanks as he picked up pennies and when he’d first walked in, expression neutral and looking like he’d flay anyone alive who dared to talk to him.

Sighing as he thinks about what had happened this latest morning, Jimin pouts. “No but I paid for his breakfast and he was all adorable and flustered about it so we’ll count today as a win.”

“You know,” Taehyung starts, eyes not leaving the television screen where it looks like someone is either about to get murdered or railed to within an inch of their life, “The way you describe him, he seems like a bit of a lone wolf type. Reserved but with a warm, gooey center. Maybe you just need to, like, befriend him. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to make the first move.”

“It’s not as easy as you think to make a move, Tae,” Jimin gripes. “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me.”

Sighing like the weight of the world’s on his shoulders, Taehyung finally looks up at Jimin. “That’s why I’m telling you to become his friend, dummy. You like him, he doesn’t sound completely off-put by you, it’s time to progress to the next level. Friendship. Maybe once you two know each other a little more, he’ll get more comfortable around you and then bam! You’re married with three dogs and a pink picket fence.”

“White picket fence, Taetae. Not pink.”

Taehyung just waves that away. “Pink is more homey. Anyway. We're two months into the semester and you still don't even know his name. Time to face your crush and actually do something about it before you end up living in the apartment over my garage and crashing into my main house every evening bemoaning how your life turned out like this.”

“You don’t have a garage. Or a house. You don’t even have a complete set of towels.”

“Then it will be all the more impressive when I move into McMansion and graciously allow you to live with me rent-free.”

Jimin snorts, feeling lighter with his best friend’s antics. At least his love life isn’t as dire as it could be, he guesses.

Still, he doesn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of knowing he’s given him food for thought so Jimin just ruffles his friend’s hair again and hauls himself and his bookbag to his bedroom without another word.

Taehyung is immediately engrossed back into his show, muttering something about the betrayal of the sister-in-law.

Closing the door behind him, Jimin empties his bookbag. He finishes the readings for a couple of classes tomorrow and resolutely does not think about how he could woo-- befriend-- the extremely cute student he only sees three minutes a week.

There’s only a couple of hours of daylight left when Jimin surfaces, stretching his arms over his head and straightening from his desk, highlighter still in hand.

Tossing the highlighter onto his desk and shutting his anatomy textbook firmly closed, he stands and grumbles to himself for a few minutes before he figures that he should probably go for a run before it gets dark.

He really wasn’t exaggerating earlier with Hoseok. He’s only halfway through his first semester of junior year and it seems like everything’s been kicked up a notch, including his dance group. Hoseok is the new leader since it’s his senior year with Jimin as a sort of second-in-command and as the two of them had planned out the upcoming year over the summer, they’d agreed that they wanted to try something new and challenge themselves.

They’ve certainly succeeded, Jimin thinks wryly as he walks to the front door and laces up his running shoes. The two of them were having a blast experimenting with different styles and genres and putting together choreography with it all. Thankfully, the other dozen people in the group seemed to be enjoying the new creative lead from Hoseok’s predecessor and while it’s challenging, it’s also fun and stress-relieving in a way Jimin craves.

That doesn’t mean the newest song they’re putting together isn’t a lot to handle, though. Jimin can barely make it to the second verse of the song before he feels winded and Hoseok is noticeably pushing himself by the bridge.

Warming up with a light jog as he gets out of the congested student apartments and starts towards the park trail on the edge of campus, Jimin plans the rest of his evening. He still has a paper to write for tomorrow’s gen literature class and he has a case study for his political science class due in the morning along with a discussion post.

Could be worse, Jimin thinks with a huff as he kicks it up a notch to a steady pace along the trail blacktop. While running isn’t Jimin’s favorite way to pass the time, he knows that he needs to do something to increase his endurance and it’s almost relaxing-- enjoying the fresh autumn air all alone with his thoughts.

One of his favorite things about this university is that it’s bordered by a nature reservation on one side. Although he doesn’t take advantage of it as often as he’d like, it’s nice to get away from a bustling campus and busy college town. There are only a few other runners out this late and he’s in a good mood as he lets whatever stress had built up over the day flow out of him.

Jimin decides to veer off onto a gravel path when the trail splits. It’s a little overgrown but as he climbs up an incline, settling into each stride and definitely feeling the strain in his thighs, he decides this might just be his favorite stretch so far.

It’s like there’s no one else but him and nature and while Jimin knows he’s a city boy through and through, there’s a calmness in being so isolated that puts him at ease.

He’s almost to the top of the hill and his breath is definitely labored as he watches the ground right in front of him, steering clear of any roots or particularly jagged rocks when something falls into his periphery.

Flicking his eyes up, Jimin comes crashing to a stop, almost falling on his face as he slips over a rough patch of gravel.

Suddenly, his breathing sounds cacophonous in the quiet of the woods, under the piercing stare of a pitch black wolf.

Jimin stares at the creature. The creature stares back calmly although it’s preternaturally still.

He’d always thought wolves were just a little bit bigger than dogs and now he feels like an idiot because the wolf standing alert a dozen yards from him is definitely bigger than a dog.

Jimin swallows harshly and thinks that it would almost come up to his chest if they were side by side.

So very slowly, Jimin tugs his headphones out and lets them fall around his neck. He doesn’t take the attention away from the wolf to turn his music off and it’s another tinny noise that buzzes around him like a pile of bees.

They’re still staring at each other.

Jimin doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He doesn’t want to run away because what if the wolf attacks? There’s no question the wolf is terrifying, large and intimidating and so clearly a predator, completely at ease in the woods. At the same time, he feels like a dolt just standing here and waiting to be eaten.

There’s a dignified elegance to the wolf as he watches Jimin with gold eyes that seem to soak up the starting sunset. If Jimin didn’t know better, he’d almost think the wolf had been caught off guard at first before he’d stilled at seeing Jimin on the trail.

Calling himself a dumbass even as he opens his mouth, Jimin tries to put on his best soothing voice. “I’m not here to hurt you and I hope you’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, so Jimin continues, “I’m just out for a run and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t eat me. My roommate, Taehyungie, would be very displeased if there was no one to brainstorm his podcast episodes with.”

The wolf huffs out a breath, tilts his head to regard Jimin with a faint hint of-- is that amusement? Deciding that the terror trickling down his spine and through his toes is probably driving him insane, Jimin holds up his arms in an appeasing gesture as he takes a single step back.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says in a voice higher than his usual register. “I’m just going to leave you to do whatever wolf activities you were up to before I interrupted-- catching butterflies? Rolling around in the grass?-- and we’ll forget this ever happened. I’m so sorry I disturbed you and I’ll just be on my way.”

Jimin waits for a long beat or two to make sure the wolf won’t suddenly lunge for him but to his surprise, the black wolf doesn’t move a muscle besides the slow sway of its tail.

In the heart pounding moments between Jimin’s little speech and him turning around to back down the hill, he studies the wolf with an intensity that surprises him. He catalogs the gold eyes that seem to know more than they should and the thick obsidian fur that he has an inexplicable urge to bury his hands in to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

For a moment, Jimin is too mesmerized to be scared and it’s only when the wolf abruptly turns his head to the left, towards the deepest part of the woods, that Jimin startles and realizes that he needs to go and he needs to go now.

He doesn’t know why but he dips a little in a bow before muttering, “Thanks for not making me puppy chow,” and then he turns around and carefully leaves, heart thundering with the fear the the wolf could decide to attack at any moment, lunging for him without him knowing.

He can’t quite believe it but Jimin makes it back to the main path without incident. He bends over at the waist, lightheaded, and feels like he could almost collapse in relief at not having been torn to shreds.

Jimin picks up the pace as soon as it feels like he’s not going to keel over. All of a sudden the nature reservation that had felt relaxing in its isolation digs creepy tendrils of apprehension into him.

When he finally crosses over from the park into campus, he breathes a huge sigh of relief. He tells himself that he’ll just go to the rec from now on and climb on a treadmill if he wants to work on his cardio.

He tells himself that he won’t go back to the park or follow unbeaten paths again, not when the October breeze sends such a shiver down his spine.

He feels something watching him from the moment he turns his back from the wolf all the way to the edge of campus and tells himself he’s overreacting even as he can’t stop himself from searching the edge of the trail for gold eyes or a trailing shadow.

He doesn’t see anything amiss and he definitely doesn’t feel disappointed as he makes it back to his apartment without catching sight of the wolf again.

Stumbling through the door, Jimin toes off his shoes and heads directly to the bathroom, not even noticing Taehyung in the living room working on a painting by the last light of the day.

Jimin sums up his evening with an effusive thank God I wasn’t mauled to death and resolves to forget anything ever happened.

[amyscascadingtabs]

i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 6. i’ll be your arms, i’ll be your steady satellite

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read earlier chapters

The Santiago Siblings with families spend a weekend together, Amy’s feeling weird, and Jake’s getting suspicious.

september.

Amy throws out the ovulation tests first. Then, most of the pregnancy tests.

She keeps a few, in case of emergencies, but she hides them so far inside their bathroom cabinet, buried underneath boxes of band-aids and disinfectant wipes, she tells herself it’s the same thing.

 She also throws out the vitamin supplements and the gross herbal teas, and puts the cherished pages of the fertility binder through her paper shredder while Jake shakes his head at her.

“You’re being crazy,” he states when she empties the paper confetti in the trash, immediately tying the bag shut and placing it by the door.

“Nope,” she responds. “I’m finally being sane.”

She stops doing yoga, not that she got into a habit with it in the first place. She goes back to her usual diet and coffee habits. She deletes every fertility-related bookmark off of her computer and unfollows all the Instagram accounts she once tried to find support in. There’s a smidge of panic and hard-hitting grief the first few times she sees a pregnant person somewhere, a harsh pain that comes with knowing for certain she’ll never experience it again, but most of all, Amy feels free. As heartrending as the knowledge is, she’d take it over uncertainty any day of the week.

 Her days of the week are moving quickly, too. It's like the moment she stopped being consumed by this, the rest of her life caught up with her, and now it’s speeding past. Leah starts her first Tiny Tots preschool class, and her parents cry for a good ten minutes after dropping her off the first time because their baby is growing up and it’s all moving too fast. They start doing proper research on allergy-friendly cats and even schedule a visit at a cattery. Work speeds up and she has to work overtime for more days in a row than she's done since having a kid, making her fear their apartment will fall into pieces and her daughter forget who she is, but she comes home each night to dinner on the table and Leah in pajamas begging her to read a bedtime story. She makes sure to thoroughly thank her husband, especially the night when there’s a takeout box with potato pancakes waiting for her, and promises him a proper reward once the weekend rolls around.

“Cool, cool,” he mumbles half-asleep as he makes himself the little spoon in bed. “Also, while we’re on the topic, those potato pancakes definitely weren’t because Leah and I had ice cream for dinner. In case you were thinking that.”

“Jake.”

“Mm. Goodnight, babe.”

 Even without the fertility treatments, her free time between work and family life remains strictly limited, but she does manage to squeeze in something much needed. Every other Thursday night at eight o’clock sharp, Amy finds herself outside the door to Rosa’s apartment, and every night Rosa cuts right to the chase.

“You’re not pregnant?”

“Nope.”

“Not taking any fertility medication?”

“Stopped them all.”

“Take a shot, Santiago.”

She’s decided not to tell more people about her experiences, doesn’t see the point when all she wants is to forget, but every other Thursday night, she vents. Rosa lets her speak, sometimes offering commentary but mostly just nodding, and Amy’s pleasantly surprised to discover it helps.

She’s not alone, and most importantly, she’s going to be okay again.

 ~

 october.

As the end of October arrives, it becomes time for the weekend with all the Santiago siblings and their families renting a cabin upstate. Tony calls it a tradition even though it's the first time they're doing it, but when Amy points this out, he simply shrugs and says it's important to have goals in life.

At first, she's skeptical about it - spending four days in a cabin with fifteen adults, thirteen kids and one dog feels like a polar opposite to the relaxed family time she craves - but it's been forever since she saw them all and she supposes she could use some time away from Brooklyn’s buzzing city life, so they decide to go. She nearly regrets it after three hours in the car with the Frozen-soundtrack on repeat, but then they reach their destination, and all is forgiven when Leah runs to hug all her cousins.

 Friday morning, they arrange a big leaf fight in the yard. At first, it's kids against adults, but as more and more children drop out, it becomes Santiago siblings against partners, and as more and more adults drop out too, eventually it's just Amy and Julian against Jake. The fight lasts until Jake starts complaining about there being leaves in his ear. At that point, Amy's laughing so hard her stomach hurts.

“Loser does all the dishes after lunch,” Julian grins, and Jake looks like he's about to cry.

Amy checks in on him after ten minutes. His shirt is wet from the soapy water and she can see the terror in his eyes as he looks to the mountain of dirty plates, glasses, and cutlery, but he’s scrubbing hard at them one by one with furious determination.

“Need any help, babe?” She sneaks her arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his neck and pulling out a small twig that’s still stuck in the back of his hair.

“Desperately,” he groans, wiping his hands on his jeans and facing her. “But I have to prove my strength to your brothers.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Julian just wanted a reason to see you in a wet t-shirt.”

“He could have just asked.”

Amy laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll help you out.”

He squints. “Are you sure? You look kind of... tired.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not like that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But you look a little - I don’t know - pale? Did you not have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t finish it. Creamer tasted weird.” He opens his mouth to say something, but she shuts him up with a glare. “I’m fine. Come on, I’ll help you finish these.”

 -

 They manage to get done right on time for a family walk in the woods. Leah makes it about a quarter of a mile before she starts complaining, so Jake carries her on his shoulders, which results in immediate chaos and tears from David’s twins when they demand the same and David can’t carry them both. Amy helps her brother by carrying Samuel on her shoulders, but the kid must have dog hair on his clothes from playing with Julian's dog, because her nose gets stuffy after only a minute. If it weren’t for the animal being straight-up adorable, or for Leah's excitement when Julian asks her if she wants to hold Oscar’s leash for a minute, Amy swears she would be yelling at this dog, too.

 The stuffy nose lasts for the entire afternoon, and she curses the fact that she forgot her allergy nasal sprays at home. Luckily, she’s surrounded by plenty of good distractions, and the afternoon disappears in a jumble of trying to keep different children from hurting themselves or others while also trying to make sure they’re happy, and if she’s not watching any kids, she’s trying to keep up with what feels like a billion different conversations going on at the same time. It’s enough to make anyone exhausted. She tries to have another cup of coffee, black this time to avoid the probably-bad creamer, but she only gets down a few sips before her throat goes all dry and she has to breathe real hard for the nausea to pass. She pours out the rest in the kitchen sink.

 Despite her tiredness and stuffy nose and sudden coffee aversion, Amy has a lovely day. When afternoon becomes evening, everyone who isn’t cooking dinner makes their way down to the nearby lake to watch the sunset. Leah’s in Jake’s arms with her head on his shoulder, looking all cozy in her purple fluffy hoodie as she sings the lyrics to Moana in the wrong order, and Amy can’t fight the urge to kiss her sweet little face until Leah grimaces and says stop, mama, hiding her face in Jake’s shirt as he laughs.

They’re her favorite sight in the world - the love of her life, and the child who’s held Amy’s whole heart in her hands since the first time she waved to them on an ultrasound screen over three years ago. Jake whispers something to Leah that Amy can’t hear, the girl giggles, and her heart aches with how much she loves them. She may never get the kids-plural family she pictured in her younger days, but she gets this, and it’s better than anything she could have imagined.

 -

When all the kids have gone to bed - save for seven-month-old Charlie, who’s wide awake and happy to get passed around between different pairs of arms - the adults gather in the living room for a chance at uninterrupted conversation and a glass of wine. Amy finds space in the corner of a couch, with Jake on her left and Tony’s wife Clara in an armchair on her right, and gratefully accepts the glass of red wine Lucas gives her. She takes a sip, first enjoying the taste, but the second sip tastes off and the third is awful. She tries to hide her grimace as she puts it down on the side table and asks for a glass of water instead.

 She's not really listening to the conversation, zoning out and just enjoying the comfort of Jake's arm around her shoulders, but Clara nudging her arm gets her attention.

“Do you want to hold Charlie for a while, Amy?”

“I’d love to,” she says, and the next second there's a baby in her arms who's shooting her the brightest of toothless smiles and reaching for her necklace. Charlie’s chubby fingers try to grab the L and J-pendants, so she gently separates his hands from them and he starts playing with a sling of her hair instead.

“Oh, you're strong,” she laughs as he grips it. “Wow.”

“Tell me about it,” Clara laughs. “Sometimes he’s lucky he’s cute.”

Amy smiles. The baby is already snuggling his head into her chest, making himself comfortable. He's truly adorable with round cheeks and light-ginger hair, melting her heart as he grips onto her shirt.

She's missed this. Still, it’s less painful now that she knows - she might never have more babies of her own, but she’ll always have plenty of nephews and nieces to hold, cuddle and play with.

“You're adorable,” she whispers to Charlie with a kiss to his forehead. “Yes, you are.”

“Hey, Amy?” David catches her attention from the opposite couch. “Aren't you guys going to have more kids?”

She can feel Jake freeze next to her.

“We’ve thought of it,” she says calmly. “But we landed on one kid. We’re happy with that.”

Jake squeezes her shoulder.

“Really? Huh.” David nods in surprise. “Don’t you want more kids, Jake?”

“It's not my decision to make,” he shrugs, like it was an obvious fact. “I'm just hoping we can get a cat soon.”

 Charlie falls asleep in Amy's arms, staying there even as people begin to drop out and head to bed. She gives him back to Tony when it’s time for a diaper change, closing her eyes and leaning against Jake's chest once her arms are free again.

“You okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she promises. “Just sleepy.”

“You didn't drink anything,” he notes, nodding to her untouched glass.

“Did you try the wine?” He nods. “I hated it. I think Julian has crappy taste in alcohol.”

Jake shrugs. “It tasted fine to me. Maybe your taste buds are being weird.”

“Or I have better taste than you.” She kisses him on the cheek. “Let's go to bed, babe.”

 -

 She’s barely closed her eyes before Leah climbs into their bed, full of energy as she makes space between her parents.

“I wanna go outside and play,” she insists, and when this doesn’t garner enough of a response, she frowns. “It’s morning!”

Amy reluctantly opens her eyes to reach for her phone, reading the time. “Half-past seven.” Weird. They went to bed at one a.m. and Leah’s slept through the night, yet it feels like she was woken up after ten minutes.

“Hey, I have an idea,” says Jake, pulling his daughter close and tickling her neck. “How about we play in here for a while? I have a great idea for something.”

“What?”

“Well, you see, bumblebee, you’re a super brave space pirate. This bed is your spaceship, and mama and I are your innocent, weak humans that you’ve captured.” He yawns. “The rules are that we have to lay still. If we move, we’ll fall out into space and, uh, die.”

“Okay! Dada, still!”

“I love this game,” Amy mumbles, pulling the covers closer around herself.

 The spaceship game lasts a full ten minutes before Leah tires, deciding that her parents are too boring captives for her taste and starting a new game that circles around her trying to jump from the bed onto her mattress in increasingly creative and less-than-safe ways. Jake defuses the situation before she tries to do a backflip, suggesting that they get out of bed and see if any other cousins are up yet, and Amy tries to open her eyes again. It’s painful - her body screams for more sleep, and she channels this into the pleading look she gives Jake.

“Can I get another half hour? I feel like I’m going to collapse if I get up now.”

“Huh.” A line appears between his brows. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” she yawns. “I just need thirty minutes, like I said.”

“Okay, I’ll wake you up when there’s breakfast - Lee, wait!”

He disappears out the door chasing after their daughter, and Amy sighs in relief as she lets her eyes fall closed again.

It still feels like no time has passed before Jake comes to tell her the thirty minutes are up, but she forces herself to get out of bed anyway. They have a long day ahead of them, and Amy’s not risking getting teased by her brothers for wanting to sleep in. Instead, she throws on a hoodie to hide the fact that she’s freezing, and pours herself a big cup of coffee at the breakfast table. She manages four sips before it threatens to come back up again. Luckily, one-year-old Milo chooses that exact moment to almost choke on his piece of toast, and no one except for Jake seems to notice the gagging expression on her face as she tries to swallow everything back down.

 She must be getting the flu, or maybe she’s picked up some other bug from her daughter. She’s cold, a little dizzy, and the stuffy nose refuses to pass even though she keeps away from the dog. They go to play in the woods while the sun is still shining, and Amy’s enjoying herself as she watches Jake run with Leah in his arms towards a tree, touch her feet against the wood and yell Parkour! only to make the girl lose it with laughter every time, but she’s so tired when they get home, she’s barely sat down in an armchair before she’s nodded off again.

 “Hey, Ames.” Jake’s firm hand on her shoulder makes her return to consciousness. His mouth is set in a hard line, and there’s a seriousness to the way he watches her that reminds her of the way he gets whenever she’s really sick, all worried and overly protective like he thinks she’ll instantly drop to the floor if he’s not right there. “Can we talk in private?.”

She nods, following him back to their bedroom where he closes the door. He sits down cross-legged on Leah's mattress, and she takes her chance to lay down on the bed, propping her head up with two pillows. “Okay. What’s up?”

He gives her a scrutinizing look. “Are you sure you’re just tired?”

“I mean, I feel a little off, I’m sort of dizzy and my allergies are annoying.” She sniffles. “Probably coming down with some bug. Why?”

“Your immune system is way better than mine, though. I’m always the first one to get sick after Leah and I’m fine. I don’t even think she’s been ill in weeks. Isn’t it weird that you’re the only one feeling sick?”

Amy shrugs. “Exception that proves the rule?”

“Yeah, or you’re not sick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ames,” he says in a low voice, his tone slightly hesitant. “You don’t think there’s a chance you might be - I don’t know, pregnant?”

“Come on. How would that have happened?”

“Uh -”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, but I think we established my body didn’t want it to happen for us again.”

“Maybe, but face the facts. You’re exhausted, your taste buds are funny, and you were like, seconds away from throwing up your coffee this morning. You’re cold, you’re dizzy…” He counts on his fingers as he lists the symptoms. “It sounds a lot to me like before we found out you were pregnant with Leah?”

“Or it sounds like it's been a couple of intense months, my body's fighting an infection and I’m getting ill once I'm relaxing.”

“Have you gotten your period this month?”

She glares at him. “Stop.”

“Well, have you?”

She sighs and pulls out her phone from her pocket, opening it to her period tracker. Current Cycle - day 33. “It's a few days late.”

Jake’s eyes go wide.

“No.” She shakes her head before he can say anything. “Nope. That doesn't mean anything. My cycle got screwed up after the treatments and they said it could take months to return to normal.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No. Seriously. We both know I’m not pregnant.”

He squints. “We do?”

“Yes. And I can’t let myself think about it, Jake, because if I do…” She bites her lip at the crystal-clear memories of ovulation strips, shots and negative pregnancy tests, of feeling betrayed by her own body time and time again. “I’ll start to go crazy. I just got away from that obsessive headspace. I can’t go there again, I can’t have another negative staring me in the face, I just… can’t.”

He nods slowly, gaze still full of worry as he sits down next to her. “Okay. I just thought I’d ask.” His hands rub soft circles on her neck to ease the tension there, his lips brushing against hers for a few seconds. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She sighs. “God, I need another nap.”

“I’ll make an excuse for you,” he says, and she swears she’s never been more in love with him in her entire life.

 -

 Jake doesn’t bring it up again, and Amy’s grateful. It's not that she doesn't wish for his suspicions to be true - her falling pregnant naturally would be a miracle - but she can't let herself think about it, let alone hope. She spent a year hoping and it led nowhere. This isn't the first time she's imagined symptoms that turned out to be nothing. If she lets herself have hope another time, only to be faced by cruel disappointment, she's certain she's going to shatter.

The weather changes from gorgeous sunshine to heavy rainfall, effectively locking every present Santiago family member inside of the cabin and creating yet more chaos. Luis and Christian organize a game night for the kids, first consisting of child-friendly memory-games and puzzles, but as more and more kids go to bed, eventually the adults drag out Monopoly and get drunk. They also get insanely competitive. When Simon starts threatening Tony about having him do another challenge for his YouTube channel, and Tony threatens to wrestle Simon right there on the floor, the game is quickly changed to Cards Against Humanity which soon becomes a dangerous game of Never Have I Ever. Amy opts for alcohol-free wine, and it’s probably lucky, because her brothers are ruthless. Never have I ever had a catastrophic double date - drink. Never have I ever made out with someone at work - drink. Never have I ever accidentally startled a man with a genetic heart condition, resulting in his immediate death - drink, remind Julian he’s an asshole, and come up with a good revenge question. She’s relieved they go to bed before anyone can suggest a game of truth or dare.

 The next day, she's feeling much better, and manages almost half a cup of coffee without nausea. She must've been right about it being some kind of infection, she thinks, pleased that it seems to be passing.

The weather isn't improving, so she teams up with a few of her brothers and their families to go to a nearby, kid-friendly, museum while Jake, Julian, and Simon visit a sneaker outlet. Leah finds an activity station and plays there for nearly fifteen minutes with her cousins before breaking down in tears when someone takes a crayon from her, and after it’s been another ten minutes of crying, Amy eventually chalks the child’s sudden fury down to low blood sugar. She ruffles through her bag for a snack and finds an unopened bag of dried mango, and two slices later, Leah is back to normal. Amy also finds an unopened tampon package, giving her a nudging reminder that her period’s still nowhere to be seen, but she shakes away the thought. Had this been a couple of months ago, she would've been rushing to take a test, and she gives herself a mental pat on the back for acting so calm about it now. She knows this means nothing and she's not stressing out. There’s this tingling, cramping, feeling low in her stomach anyway, aching for a moment before immediately fading. Surely that must mean her period is coming.

 They go to bed early on their last night away, ready for the drive home the next day. Leah wakes up crying about a nightmare, so Amy ends up sleeping next to her in their bed with Leah's little legs curled against Amy's stomach and her hand gripping her wrist. As far as sleeping positions go, she could think of far more comfortable or ergonomic ones, but there's no denying the coziness of it. Leah snuggles her nose into the crook of Amy's neck, and Amy falls asleep just smelling her head, and if she’d ever been asked to describe the word peaceful with one situation, she would have chosen this.

 -

 At first, she thinks she's dreaming about a real past event. She's back in the bedroom of their apartment, with Jake sleeping on her right and Leah asleep in her room, but Amy's awake. She can't tell why, isn't fully aware of the narrative here, but she can tell that dream-Amy has an instinct. Something is causing her to get out of bed, walk towards their bathroom and grab a pregnancy test - one of the cheap paper strip ones - from a visible spot in the bathroom cabinet. Something is making her take it. Dream-Amy watches the test, sitting perched on the toilet and staring intently at the first line, and after what feels like the blink of an eye inside of her dream-reality, a second, faint but clear, line shows up.

Even though it's a dream, the explosive happiness is every bit as real as if she'd been awake. She takes the paper strip, wrapping it in a bit of toilet paper, and is about to go ask dream-Jake if he can see it too when she’s pulled out of the dream and back to reality.

“What the hell,” she mumbles as she opens her eyes. Jake and Leah are still sleeping, and it's every bit as dark outside as when they went to bed, but Amy's wide awake and officially weirded out. She's never been one for dream analysis or seeing them as omens of any kind, but something about the realistic feeling has caught her attention, leaving her confused and wondering if there’s any truth to it. She tries to repeat to herself that there isn’t, she isn’t pregnant and should go back to sleep, but her mind is reeling. She tries to do some breathing exercises to force her mind and body back to a relaxed state, but it’s out of reach. The what if-narrative plays on repeat in her head, and eventually, she accepts that she’s going to need to at least outrule the possibility. She’s pretty sure there’s a spare test left somewhere in her bag.

Carefully, she frees herself from the three-year-old’s grip and climbs over Jake instead. He grunts and opens his eyes for a second, but closes them again in the next.

 Amy uses her phone’s flashlight to dig through the contents of her bag, finding her calendar, pencil case, notebooks, and a crossword magazine. Headphones, painkillers, an extra phone charger. More snack bars and packets of dried fruit. Wet wipes, tissues, hair ties, and some makeup. She moves on to the inner pocket, finding allergy medication, tampons, even an expired condom that seems to have nestled its way into the bottom of the bag and stayed there for years, but no spare pregnancy tests. She almost thinks she’s found one, but a closer look tells her it’s an ovulation indicator, and she groans with disappointment. She could have sworn she left one for emergencies, but suddenly it’s gone, and she could wait until tomorrow and buy one, but she wants - scratch that, she needs - to know now.

 “Ames? Are you looking for something?” Jake’s voice is raspy, a mix of surprise and pure confusion in his tone, and she hums vaguely without looking back at him.

“I thought I had something in here,” she says in a whisper. “But I can’t find it. It’s nothing, you can go back to sleep.”

“What’re you tryna find?”

She sighs. “I had a weird dream, okay? So I want to take a pregnancy test, because I just need to know it wasn't real so I can go to sleep. I thought I had one in here, but I don’t, so…”

He yawns, and then, in a movement far swifter than she would expect from someone barely-awake, he gets out of bed and walks over to the plastic bag he brought home from the sneaker outlet.

“Jake, I’m sorry, but I don’t care about your sneakers right now,” she wheezes. He shakes his head and brings out another, smaller CVS plastic bag.

“I know,” he says, “but you might care about this.” He throws her a familiar, pink-and-white carton, and she’s not even caught it before she knows exactly what it is.

“You bought a pregnancy test.”

He nods.

“What - when - why?”

“There was a CVS close to the outlet, I told Julian and Simon I needed to buy some Aspirin, ran in and got this. They didn’t see it,” he assures her, noticing the worry on her face. “I was smooth. And as for why - I know you said you didn’t want to hope, but I thought in case you changed your mind and wanted to know, well... “ He shrugs. “It would suck if you were stuck here with no way of finding out, even if it was just another day. I know how much you hate not knowing.”

She twists the carton in her hands. “I really do hate it.”

“So, are you…”

“I’m going to take it. Now.”

“Now - now?”

“Now.”

 There’s a beat of silence, and then they’re silently racing each other out the door.

 Amy’s so used to the steps at this point, she doesn’t even feel the anxiety kick in until she places the test on the sink and nods at Jake to start the timer. There’s barely space for them both to sit on the floor of the tiny bathroom, so they’re squeezed together, him stroking her hair and holding her hand as she focuses on keeping her breathing steady.

It doesn't matter what it shows, she tries to tell herself without success. It’s just to check.

And yet, there's this odd sense of hope in her heart she doesn't recognize from the last months.

 “How did you guess?” She asks Jake, and he wrinkles his forehead, so she clarifies. “You remembered all the symptoms.”

“Oh.” He blushes. “This is going to sound bad, but… do you remember before we found out you were pregnant with Lee? There was like a week before you took a test, where you kept complaining about how it felt like you were getting the flu, or some kind of infection, because you were feeling off.” He draws quotation marks with his fingers. “You kept repeating that. And I was so proud of myself, because I'm always the first one of us two to get sick, but I was feeling fine. I thought I’d finally get to brag, and I was so excited, but then we found out you weren't sick.”

“Just pregnant.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Which, of course, was so much better. Except I never got to brag. It's haunted me since then. So this time, when you said you were feeling off and like you were getting sick… I remembered, and I made a guess. Also, I’ve read the list in your binder. But honestly, it was mostly the first thing.”

Amy laughs, genuine and hearty despite her nervosity. “You're ridiculous.”

He puts his arm around her shoulders. “And yet you keep wanting to have kids with me.”

“It’s like I must be in love with you or something.”

Her comment makes him snicker, and she thinks, not for the first time, that there could never be another person she'd want to do this with - no matter the results on that test.

 The timer rings. Jake turns it off.

“Do you want to check, or should I?”

“I don't think I can see another negative test,” she whispers, the fear making her heart beat out of her chest, and he nods and tells her to close her eyes. She hears him fumble for the test, and then he finds it, and there’s a moment’s silence that drives her crazy.

    “Ames?”

    “Yeah?”

    “What’d you say two lines meant, now again?”

    She opens her eyes, immediately snatching the test from his hands. “No way.”

    It’s faint, but there’s an obvious second line.

Amy just stares at it. She's worried it’ll disappear, like her mind’s playing tricks on her, but it stays.

“This is crazy.” Tears of happiness flood her eyes once she speaks. “This is - this is absolutely insane.”

“Told you so,” says Jake in an attempt of sounding smug, but she can tell he’s about to tear up, too.

“This is positive.”

“Sure is.”

“Oh my god.” She can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying, but she’s shaking, unable to believe her eyes as she looks from the test to Jake and back at the test. “Oh my god, you’re going to brag about this forever.”

He grins. “Consider the fact that I won’t to be a testament to how much I love you.”

She’s too overwhelmed to know what to say, so she just hugs him, smiling into his chest as he peppers kisses to the top of her head.

“Hey, Ames?”

“What?”

“We’re having another baby.”

She’s spent a year wishing for it, getting used to the thought in her desperation to get there, yet his words are impossible to take in. Another baby.

“Seems that way,” she whispers, and he laughs.

 There’s a second test in the carton, and Amy wants to take it right away, but Jake convinces her to save it for tomorrow so they can go back to bed before anyone notices they’ve been occupying this bathroom for a suspicious amount of time.

She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, not when a thousand thoughts are running laps in her head and she’s so in shock she thinks she might still be dreaming, but then Jake’s hand sneaks under the hem of her t-shirt and rests low on her stomach to make sure they're warm, he mumbles, and she places her own hand over his and relaxes.

 ~

  november.

Logically, Amy knows she’s pregnant.

All of the tests, a new one every day even though Jake tells her she’s being crazy again, are coming back two dark lines and plus signs and bolded words Pregnant, and the expensive test with the week indicator which shows how long it’s been since ovulation changes from 1-2 to 2-3 and 3+ Weeks. The fertility clinic gives her a blood test, confirms it’s a healthy pregnancy and schedules an early ultrasound two weeks later, which feels like an eternity. Time is moving excruciatingly slow, even slower when the nausea fully kicks in and she wants to spend as much of the day as possible laying down. She’s secretly happy she’s feeling terrible because that means the hormone levels are rising, and Jake insists on high-fiving her after the first time she throws up, but it does make the days feel even longer when all she wants is for them to pass.

Emotionally, the knowledge is much more difficult to wrap her head around. She’s terrified, analyzing every minuscule shift in her body in fear of there being something wrong and checking for blood in her underwear several times a day. She’s short on distractions, because she’s exhausted and moving too much makes her feel sick, so she’s mostly stuck on the couch after work watching movies and cuddling with Leah. They're not telling her yet - they're not telling anyone, except Rosa who figured it out soon as Amy declined a tequila shot - and Amy feels like a shitty parent who doesn't have the energy to run around and properly play with her kid right now, but Leah seems to get that her mom’s not feeling well, because she's more than happy to read books together and watch iPad until Jake comes home and takes her to the park for a bit.

 She wants to be happy, and every time she adds another positive test to the growing collection, she is, but she’s also dreaming nightmares and waking up in cold sweats in fear that this will be taken away from them. It’s too good to be true, the kind of happy ending you read about but never experience, and she can’t for the life of her try to fathom that it’s real. In short, she’s so hormonal she cries at stubbing her toe in the doorway, so nauseous she has to force down the few things she can consider eating, feeling guilty over how little energy she has to give Leah and how much responsibility this puts on Jake, and she can’t even allow herself to trust that they are having another baby.

 “This isn’t forever,” Jake tells her on a particularly exhausting evening after she's cried in his arms and eaten three lemon popsicles because they're the only thing that tastes remotely good. When she's cried a little more, about her fear and bad conscience and the deep shame in not being able to feel happy about something she's dreamt of for a year, he tells her, “just three more days until the scan,” and that does help.

-

 Amy doesn’t want to exaggerate, but she’s pretty sure the hours between six a.m., when Leah wakes up, and nine a.m., when the ultrasound appointment is, are the longest three hours of her life. Mornings are enough of a struggle to get through with a stubborn three-year-old who’ll put up a fight about anything from clothes to breakfast to brushing her teeth if she’s in the wrong mood, and they’re not made any easier when Amy’s feeling like this, but it’s moving particularly slow today when nearly all of her focus is divided between worrying about the scan and trying to keep her breakfast down. In the end, Leah doesn’t brush her teeth this morning and she has a yogurt smoothie in the car, but they manage to drop her off in time and she gives them a long hug each, so Amy considers it a success.

 Unfortunately, it’s a temporary one. She’s so nervous she can’t think straight, can’t focus on the Taylor Swift-tunes playing in the car or reply when Jake asks if she’s excited. Her head is playing possible nightmare scenarios on a loop, of there not being anything there, of them not seeing a heartbeat, or something else that will leave them no choice but to terminate the pregnancy. Taylor Swift sings something about cloaks and daggers and bright mornings, and Amy tries to see if she can memorize the lyrics for a distraction. She doesn’t get far before they get stuck in a traffic jam, though, giving them no option but to drive a few feet at a time, accelerating and braking on repeat.

 She knows that Jake tries to drive as smoothly as possible. He’s a good driver. She doesn’t have a problem with his driving, but the constant starting and stopping, the inevitable jerking movements, is absolute hell for her morning slash all-day sickness and suddenly all her focus has shifted to trying not to throw up in a moving car.

“I’m really sorry, Ames,” says Jake after casting one glance at her pale complexion, and she doesn’t dare to move her head but she mumbles a ‘not your fault’ before she goes back to taking deep breaths.

 She makes it through the congestion, and the nausea’s easing as they drive the last stretch to the clinic, but then there’s a slight bump as they drive into the parking lot and the fight is lost. She stumbles out of the car in search of a trash can, but it’s too far away. Instead, she has to publicly humiliate herself by throwing up right there on the curb just as another couple is walking out of the clinic and giving her what she assumes are grossed-out looks. She feels Jake’s hands on her shoulders as she coughs up the last bit, grimacing at the foul taste.

“Everyone’s going to think I’m hungover,” she mutters as he leads her to a spot further away, urging her to sit down.

“Oh yeah. That’s definitely what they think about all the women who puke outside of fertility clinics.”

His comment makes her laugh, but the laughter makes her feel sick again, so she stops.

“You okay?” He asks, carefully scratching her neck with one hand as he digs in his messenger bag with the other. “I have water if you want to rinse your mouth, and I’m pretty sure I have gum somewhere.”

“I’ll take water,” she says, accepting the green kid-size bottle that was definitely originally Leah’s and taking a cautious sip. “Sorry about this.”

“You’re sorry?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Damn, queen of unnecessary apologies. It’s okay.”

“I feel like crap,” she groans, ignoring him. “Sorry for whining.” “Okay there, ridiculous. Stop apologizing. It’s not something you can control.”

“But I don’t want to whine about this,” it comes out of her before she can stop it. “I don’t want to be sad, or scared. We fought so damn hard to get here! It fucking sucked! And now - I guess we’re having a baby, but I don’t know how to believe that, and I have to deal with the fact that pregnancy sucks, too!” She shakes her head, instantly regretting the quick movement but continuing to speak anyway. “I just want to be happy, and grateful, and I am. But I’m terrified. I can’t trust that it’s really happening, that it won’t be taken away from us again, and on top of that I feel awful all the time. I just… thought it’d be different.”

 Jake looks a little taken aback by her sudden outburst, opening his mouth before closing it and watching her with that same worried look she’s seen way too much during the last weeks.

“It will be,” he promises once she stops talking. “You’ve done this before. You know it gets better. You get a baby out of it, which - there are worse deals.”

“Yeah. But it feels so far away. It doesn’t feel remotely real. I wanted us to be happy now, to relax and enjoy this, but it feels like everything sucks.”

“Isn’t that just life sometimes, though? It sucks, and then there are awesome parts, and then it sucks again, and then there’s more awesome stuff.” He grimaces, looking down at the curb before meeting her eyes. “I know you feel like crap. I know you’re scared. Honestly, so am I. But we’re about to see our baby for the first time,” he smiles, “and that’s at least one of the crazy awesome parts.”

She nods. “It is.”

“Yeah.” He reaches for her hand, squeezing it. “I just think that… there’s always going to be shitty things, right? Sure, this year was rough, and I wouldn’t want to do it again, but we also had a million amazing moments with Leah, and together, in-between the bad parts. When this baby comes,” he nods to her still-flat stomach, “we probably won’t be sleeping and everything will be nuts for a while before we figure it out, but we’re going to have two kids and it’s going to be the best.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to tell you something I heard from a very smart person once,” he grins, looking proud of himself. “Life is unpredictable, but as long as you’re with the right people, you can handle anything.”

“That person sounds smart. Did they also make a butt joke after that?”

“Sure did. Made me cry, and everything. But what I was actually trying to say was…” Jake blushes, and she can tell there’s a moment of emotional sincerity coming. “I’m with you. I know that. I also know that as long as I’m with you, all the bad stuff is survivable, and all the good stuff is a million times better. And I’d rather have hard days with you, and Lee, and I guess soon whoever this is,” he holds his hand to her stomach through her sweater, “than good days with anyone else.”

“Me too,” she snivels, having to wipe the tears on her shirt sleeve because of course, this is making her cry. “How’d you get so wise all of a sudden?”

“Married you,” he shrugs. “And had kids. Also, I got hella old.”

“You’re forty-two.”

“Exactly. Shh.”

Amy laughs, with tears in her eyes because he’s hitting that perfect spot between wisdom and humor that’s one of the many reasons she loves him so much, and the smile on his lips grows wider once he sees that he’s made her laugh.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, cupping his face with her hands.

“I know. Love you, too.” She kisses him, and he kisses her back for a second before immediately pulling away and scrunching his nose. “Okay, ew, no. Vomity breath. Gross.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to apologize,” she teases. “But I’ll take that gum too.”

“Let’s just go inside and look at our baby,” he says as he hands her the packet, and she doesn’t protest.

 There are some routine questions and another blood test, and then they’re ushered into the ultrasound room. She’s nearly holding her breath as she lays down, eyes glued to the screen and Jake’s hand squeezing hers so tight she thinks he might stop the blood flow if he squeezed any harder.

At first, she’s scared she was right and there’s nothing in there, because everything is blurry and she’s not sure what’s what, but then it clears slightly and the ultrasound technician points out a white blob the shape of a lima bean, and there are tears of relief running down her cheeks.

 The technician says and here’s the heartbeat, and Amy has to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying harder than she already is when a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounds through the room in quick little beats.

She could listen to that sound forever.

 They get printed sonogram pictures of their fetus, which is slightly over an inch and just looks like a white blob but is well and truly perfect according to their doctor, and then they’re advised to go home and celebrate. They both have to stop crying first, though, so they stand outside the clinic for another while, just hugging without needing to say anything else.

 “So,” Jake says when Amy’s finally found space to breathe again. “How do you want to celebrate?”

“Do you want to go to Target and look for another shirt that says Big Sister and some stupid cute tiny clothes?”

“Oh, you know I do.”

 They get a long-sleeved pink shirt for Leah, six pairs of baby socks with animals on them and tiny pajamas with rainbow stripes, and then they buy alcohol-free champagne.

 ~

[jojoreadwhat]

i didn't get much sleep last night, but that's alright. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Warning: Drug use.

Lucy's POV.

The hem of my grey sweater roused above my skirt when I outstretched my arm. Placing a hardback onto the top shelf of the book case. The light dust dancing against the sun peering from the large windows.

It was a sunny Saturday morning at the library, restocking shelves and taking in the serenity of a now typical weekend for me. Watching a variation of students spending their time during my cover. I couldn't complain as the nostalgic thoughts of being back in New York came waltzing into my mind.

I had another thing invading my mind in the process. The recurrence of events from a few days ago.

When I kissed Matty.

I. With my own gut and feelings. Kissed Matty without him knowing it would happen. Took the plunge and not caring if would lead to good or bad. Believe it or not, it took a better turn than I had anticipated when his lips moved along with mine shortly after the big move. And I still seen him the next day. I've been containing the excitement and relief until now while I restocked books. Still feeling the lingering tingle that grazed my lips whenever I thought about it. Leaving a small smirk planted on my face.

"Someone is happy today." Matilda comment startling me from my thoughts. I nodded, "Yeah, I was just thinking about a joke told yesterday." Fibbing through my teeth, but she knew that it wasn't that in the slightest. "Mhmm," She replied, taking clipboard of the list of check outs placed back on the shelf. I realized her presence meant I'd be clocking soon.

Sooner than later, actually.

"Well I'm here and there's only a few students now studying." She announced, making a new pile of books. "You can head out earlier than scheduled."

I didn't waste time.Before leaving UNI I stopped by the school's cafe to see it had closed 20 minutes before. Defeated and feening for another coffee. I knew of nothing close, which gave me a good reason to head to the tube and into the city.

++

When I had stepped onto the platform and walked up the stairs from the underground. I was greeted with the sun and the rush of the weekenders. The same crazy amount of people that New York would've had on a day like this. Busy enjoying the day venturing the city but in different aspects architecturally and minus all the bright boards.

I pulled out my phone for a second to lead me to the nearest bookstore from where I stood. The first one listed was independently owned and had a small coffee shop inside. All traded and used books, I was completely floored and cozy here. I sat in one of the aisles, reading some Walt Whitman material, as recommended.

Spending majority of my afternoon in First Chapter Books. Weaving in and out of the other genres they offered. Soon my visit came to a close after two coffees and a mint edition purchase.

I took advantage of the time I had left, finding another coffee shop but for a bagel this time.. and another coffee of course. I then found myself in One World Thrift, trying on a few knit sweaters. Finding a cute backpack that had pretty embroidered florals all over it. The employee working there was so much help, bringing me more sweaters and wouldn't stop complimenting my scarf.

I was now heading back to the tube when I seen a sign above that read 'Rocket Records' shrugging to myself that one more store wouldn't hurt.

When I entered the place, it echoed sounds of earlier Death Cab For Cutie. It was dressed head to toe with records and posters along the walls. With a huge island of crates holding more records down the center of the room. Watching some people going through them. I was soon greeted from the counter before I moved further into the place and to the alternative section.

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

Matty's POV.

I hate getting stuck with backroom duties. Sorting out the new shipment we received earlier this morning. Watching all the cheesy new upcoming groups making their ways to our shelves. For all the hipster, Instagram obsessed teenagers could come in. Taking snap shots without buying and messing up our conversions. Sounds a bit narcissistic for being in a band that could hit shelves like these. I just always had my judgments of hitting it 'big' I guess.

Humming along to what the boss had playing and tagging everything. I was starting a new pile when Jimmy came in and asked if I could cover the front. I brought out what I had done so far, lots of restocks of yesterday's new releases. The place only had about four people nearby, two sets of couples.. until I spotted the one I couldn't stop thinking about.

Lucy was looking through the back. One hand occupied by a record she was reading, the other holding little bags. I smiled as I watched her cross her stocking covered ankles before she moved along.

"That's their best." I commented, watching her shoulders jolt from startling her. She looked over at me, before setting down the record. "A fan?" She replied, then. Turning to face me now, I shrugged at her question first, "Some what, but that's probably my favorite by far."

She nodded, taking into consideration the note. "What brings you here?" She asked, I chuckled. Waving the tag gun, watching her cheeks grow red. "I could ask the same." Smirking at her naivety.

We got to talking a little bit, she asked about how the day was going. Telling her how Jimmy was being a bloke and I couldn't help but smile as she chuckled at the nickname. She walked with me as I continued to tag a few more things, telling me about her findings and adventures. Soon it grew silent for a moment, but I could tell something was on her tip of her tongue.

"What are you doing later?" She asked, looking at the time on her watch before back at me. "I don't know," I replied, pausing from my work. "What did you have in mind?"

This was completely different coming from Lucy. I could tell she was a bit nervous about it, reading her face as she thought about it. It was adorable.

"Why don't you stop by? I could order a pizza, we could watch a movie?" She suggested, then. Searching my face for relief, I smiled. "Sounds perfect." I replied, "I'll see you around 7?" Making sure the timing was right.

Shortly then, Jimmy was asking for my assistance, but she nodded in time, "Okay." before I excused myself and I kissed her cheek.

++

Jimmy was trying to get me to stay late even with opening this morning. There was no way in hell. Luckily I fought that and was able to grab a pizza and wine before heading to Lucy's.

When I pulled up to her house, the windows were dark except for one upstairs.

Me: "Hey, still up for company and pizza?"

I texted Lucy, seeing that her phone must've went off when I seen a shadow pass the window.

Blue: "Of course, what's up?" She double texted, then.

Me: "Cool, cause the pizza is getting cold and so am I" I wrote back as I stood at her door. Hearing the commotion of her coming down the stairs and the locks clicking.

"Hey, I thought I was buying pizza?" She questioned, I shrugged. "I made a nice commission today. It's my treat" I explained, then. "I also brought wine." She just shook her head, "You and your wine." She stated, taking the bag off the box and moving to let me in.

I followed Lucy up the steps, Her long cardigan swaying with every bounce made onto the cricking wood. Little ways down the hall leading us to a door with a big Nirvana poster covering it.

"Sorry it's a bit messy." She announced before she opened and led me in.

Lucy had turned down the music from her turntable, placing the bag of wine on her nightstand before turning towards me. Her purple long cardigan hanging loosely against her small frame. Tightly bounded by her grey cami that exposed her new feather tattoo along her left collarbone.

I silently asked where to place the box before the curves of her black covered legs in tights began to fold under her on the bed. "Right here is fine." She smiled, taking the box from my hands as I followed suit. Kicking off my shoes and sitting pretzel legged across from her.

We ate a few slices among each other, taking subtle glances and smiling from time to time. I'd chuckle whenever she lost the running cheese that didn't want to stay on her slice. Watching her pick up with her fingers and savor it.

Afterwards, I stood up to open the bottle of wine. Taking a swig before I handed it to Lu. Fishing my pockets for my pack of fags with a few spliffs I saved.

Lucy was flipping the record, "Mind if I smoke?" Gesturing I'd open a window first. She shook her head before she took a double look at what I was going to smoke. "Is that a blunt?" She questioned, I nodded. "Is that okay?.." I spoke again.

"Yeah yeah, I was just wondering." She explained before going back to what she was doing. Leading me to believe, she's never smoked before. "Blue?" I said, "Hmm" She hummed.

"Have you ever?" I asked, she looked up at me again. She shook her head. "No, not for any reason. Just never got around to it."

I then brought the spliff to my lips, opening my zippo and lighting it before I took a drag.

"Here," I offered. She looked at me like I was crazy at first, but then took it between her fingers. "I'm not gonna like die or something, am I?" She joked, I just chuckled and shook my head. "It's great, I promise." I replied, watching her placing it on her lips and inhale. Like a natural.

++

I never thought I'd see Lucy intoxicated but it was the most cutest, most silliest thing (in a good way) I had ever witnessed. Filling the room with her sweet laugh against the smells of our own party. She was playing her favorite records, swaying around the little space she had in her room.

I sat on her bed, smoking a cigarette. Smiling, watching as she enjoyed herself. She caught me staring, smirking a bit before she moved closer till she stood in front of me. Her soft fingers placing themselves close to my lips. As she grabbed the cigarette hanging from them. Kissing them softly after.

I looked up at her and watched as she took a drag. Her lips puckered around the filter and her closed as she inhale. Admiring the smoke in eyes as she exhaled, my favorite thing of the night. Before she looked back down at me.

"Are you having a good time?" I asked, then. She nodded, placing the cigarette back on my lips. I took another drag before putting in the cup on the nightstand next to us.

When I brought my attention back, I noticed the pretty sparkle from the red ruby she wears everyday. Hanging against her pale complexion. I felt her watching me as my hand grazed her skin and I brought the pendant closer to see.

"This is beautiful." I commented, her reach over mine gently. "It was my mother's" She stated, the past pretense caught me off guard and I felt terrible. I looked back up at her, "I'm so sorry." I insisted, quietly. She just smiled, running her hand through my hair. "It's okay. It's kind of a long story, I'll explain it eventually." She went on, still smiling soft.

"Just first, dance with me." She said, then. The substances still inebriating her sense. I stood up towering over her as I moved her hands around my neck and mine met her waist.

Donna Lewis' "I Love You Always Forever" began playing throughout her room. We danced slow, my body molding into hers as she hugged me and brought her head to my chest. Continuing to sway and smell the lavender scent of her hair. It left us in a comfortable silence again, my mind wasn't so silent as we danced. I began to worry about where this would lead and how it would go. I wasn't scared but at the same time, I was. I had a reputation for ruining things, treating any opportunity of relationships like phases.

But as I thought about it, overthinking as any worrier does. I realized there wasn't anything to worry about. Specially when she looked at me the way she did.

"Matty?" She spoke up, softly. Bringing me back to the moment. We were still swaying, "hmm" I replied, then. Pausing as she adjusted herself to look up at me.

"Stay."

[bakugou-jpg]

Good morning /afternoon /evening! Can I get headcanons/scenario (however you feel like) for Todoroki's crush that actually likes Sero? How would he feel about it? I got the idea & just though "the most popular boy & not so popular boy. The one who get most attention & the one on background". Idk they are my faves including Aizawa & Kirishima:P

Sure thing, love! Hope you enjoy it and i’m so terribly sorry this took so long to make..I’m currently studying for final exams which is really important but so i wrote this to distract myself for a little while.

Todoroki Shouto & Sero Hanta

Words: 2482

Summary: Todoroki has a crush on someone who actually has a crush on Sero

Genre: Angst??

______________________________________________

Todoroki was not a man who expressed many emotions. Atleast, in the eyes of people that didn’t got to know him that well. Yes, there had been moments in his life where he showed a strong sense of anger such as in battle or against his father on multiple occasion but in class he was known to be rather quiet. He wasn’t known to be a guy who showed many emotions towards a different person. To have strong emotions towards someone else.

Todoroki was even sure himself he never really held strong emotions for someone else who wasn’t apart of his family. Sure, he deeply cared for his friends but he had never truly experienced what it meant to love someone that was beyond friendship or family love.

Once he joined UA, a lot of things had changed for him. His family drama started to cool down, his father finally realizing what his actions had caused in the past and trying to become better than that. Todoroki finally picked up the contact with his mother and everything at home looked as if it had a brighter future ahead.

He got friends, so many new and kind friends. Friends who were nice to him and didn’t look at him as ‘Endeavour’s son’ but as Shouto Todoroki. Friends who changed him and helped him find himself. Surely, he didn’t get along with everyone as well in his class, but there definitely was a group that he liked to hang out with and talk to.

There was someone in his class which he also took a liking towards, as friends at first of course. They weren’t exactly apart from his friend group which contained people such as Midoriya, Iida etc. but they hung out with Bakugou and his friends. Unlike the rest of the people in their friend group they were more..calm and reserved most of the time. (Y/n) was a listener, someone who found the wellbeing of others much more important than their own and was good at reading others they were friends with so were able to help them if they struggled with something and was always the one to notice quickly when something was wrong with them.

But that didn’t stop them from joining Kaminari and Sero with teasing the ash blonde from time to time.

Todoroki got paired up with them for a school project once for Modern Literature. Normally, in class, they were always outgoing like Kaminari and Sero. Well, not as much but they were different then than they were face to face, alone. They were calm and really nice and after that he and (Y/n) started talking more often.

Around the time that they found out about his past and home situation, their bond became stronger. They let him talk, not once daring to interrupt him when he was sharing his story and after that they didn’t even seem slightly furious or shocked which was something Todoroki had expected. They comforted him, praised him even for being such a good person.

After the two of them started hanging out more and talking more Todoroki found some sort of peace every time they were around him. They helped him look at things on the bright side rather than feeling like there was no escape from certain things, they helped him vent whenever he felt like it without feeling uncomfortable doing so.

Everytime they laughed at his blunt and surprisingly ill-mannered mouth on some moments, he’d notice how their eyes crinkled, how a very light dimple on their left cheek would appear, how they’d hold their stomach and how they’d throw their head back.

How their eyes held peace and worry everytime he was venting, how soft their hands were everytime they’d place them on top of his shoulder when he wasn’t feeling too well and how soft and comforting their voice was everytime they talked to him.

Todorki fell hard.

As if he tripped over his own feet, fell down a mountain and hit the hard surface of the ground only to get run over by a schoolbus and get launched into a wall afterwards. And as the cherry on top of the cake, a piece of rubble would break off the wall and fall on top of him. That’s how hard he had fallen for them.

At first he hadn’t quite figured out his feelings for them so he decided this had to be something he had to figure out on his own and after a weeks weeks he came to the conclusion that he really did like them. More than friends.

He wanted them to be the first thing to wake up to, them to be one he’d hold until late at night, to be the one who he’d propose to and who he’d grow old with and have kids with.

But they weren’t his.

Todoroki saw the way Sero looked at them, because he looked at them the exact same way when they were alone. He saw the way Sero’s face flushed whenever they’d put their head on his shoulder on Friday’s annual movie night. Todoroki knew the two of them were close and clicked well. Todoroki saw how Sero would take glances towards (Y/n) whenever he did something new and cool at training. He heard the constant teasing of his friends about them whenever they weren’t around.

And he saw the way (Y/n) looked at Sero.

Todoroki wasn’t exactly sure what Sero had that he didn’t, but he didn’t mind as much. He wanted them to be happy, sure, but it ate him from the inside out. Maybe he wasn’t good enough and that Sero had something he didn’t but he couldn’t figure out what. Were the two of them even as close as Todoroki and them were? It was something that kept him awake at night sometimes, maybe even to the point it slightly bothered him.

But Todoroki made mistakes too. He also didn’t see everything that happened behind closed doors. Which is something he realized when his classmate knocked on his dorm at 3 am with bags under his eyes.

“Eh, Hi? Can i ask you something or are you busy?”

The bi-coloured man blinked a few times and looked his classmate up and down. He seemed rather fidgety with his hand and nervous, which was unusual for Sero. Todorki rubbed his eye and sighed. “Well i was actually sleeping since it is 3 in the morning so you could say it is kind of inconvenient..” He said with a raspy morning voice, something which made Sero flinch slightly.

Todoroki stepped aside and held his door open. He yawned and nodded towards his room. “Come in” He said as Sero entered his room while silently thanking him and closed the door behind him.

Todoroki made his way to the dividers and carefully moved them to the side, letting the light that reflected from the moon into his room so he could look at Sero who was currently awkwardly standing in the middle of his room and wasn’t sure where to sit down.

“There’s a chair in front of the desk if you want to sit down” Todoroki said while sitting down on the ground in front of the glass doors. He let his eyes get used to the dim light and blinked a few times before settling his onto the stars in the sky.

Sero quickly looked to the desk chair before looking back to Todoroki and shaking his head. “Oh, no thanks i’m fine with sitting down on the ground too. You can use it yourself if you want to” He said while walking towards the window and sitting next to Todoroki, not too far away.

Todoroki nodded and looked at Sero from the corner of his eye who was now also looking at the nightsky. He looked back up at the sky and cleared his throat. “What did you wanna talk about?” He asked, something which startled the black haired male and immediately made his face flush a deep dark red colour.

Sero sat up straight and cleared his throat, turning his body so he was facing Todoroki, and swallowed. “W-well! You see, i uh, there’s this thing..And i hoped you could help me with that..Well, atleast if you want to of course, it’s not exactly a thing more like someone..I uh-”

“(Y/n)” Todoroki said in a questioning way, raising his eyebrow and leaning back with his arms supporting him. He tore his eyes away from the sky and settled them upon Sero who was frozen in his spot.

“I, uh..” Sero sighed, his eyes falling on the floor and nodded. He turned his body back towards the window and let himself fall back, his resting on his stomach. “Yea..” He muttered. Sero sucked in his lips and rubbed his face. “I’m lost, dude.. This is the first time i fell for someone this hard and that i came so close to where i currently am and now i don’t know what to do” He said while frowning a little.

Todoroki scrunched his eyebrows together and looked up at the sky again, not wanting to make Sero feel uncomfortable by looking at him too long. “Why did you fall for them? Was it a specific thing they did, or is it because you think they’re pretty ‘nice’?” He questioned.

Sero scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t just think they’re pretty 'nice’. I’m not that low, 'roki. They’re just..amazing, you know? In class and everytime we hang out we always laugh together, they have the same humor as me and they’re funny as hell. We always talk for hours about everything, sometimes till like 3 am about the most dumbest stuff and i never get bored with them. I can listen to them talk for hours without getting bored, their voice is so calm like how it is outside right before a thunderstorm, cozy and warm” He said with a soft smile, a soft faint pink hue spreading over his cheeks.

He chuckled and shook his head, arms resting over his eyes. “I love their face, their smile. They’re really cute. I don’t care that they might not think of themselves like instagram models etc, i’d pick them over any of those people and they’re so kind.. (Y/n) is the person who talks to me and stays up with me when i feel like shit. I’ve got those moments you know? When i don’t think i’m good enough to be a hero because of my quirk compared to other such as yours..And then they’re there for me. To comfort me, praise me and hold me- Dude, when i say i fell hard i mean i fell out of a plane and smashed into a spiky mountain and got hit by a race car afterwards kinda hard..You know what i mean?” Sero questioned, while looking at Todoroki for a moment before looking back to the ceiling.

Todoroki took a deep breath and sighed, his eyebrows relaxing again as he pressed his lips together. “I do” He said, his eyes falling down to his feet. He knew exactly what Sero meant, he knew exactly how he felt and how amazing they were.

Sero’s face fell and he sighed. “I get if you don’t want to, i really do man..just please, don’t tell them. I don’t want the bond that we currently have get destroyed because it gets awkward because of the fact i like them..” He muttered.

Todoroki felt conflicted at first. Sure, he could give Sero the worst advice so he’d screw it up and he’d have a chance himself but that wasn’t something for Todoroki to do and he was way better than that. Then there was the fact he liked the same person and now was supposed to give advice to him while he wanted the same thing as Sero wanted. But now he knew that there was a reason why Sero felt the way he did and that it was the exact same reason as his own.

“I’ll help you”

A small smile made its way onto Sero’s face and he sighed with relief. “Thank you, really..” He said under his breath. He folded his hands over chest and looked up the sky. “What now..? What do i do?”

Todoroki pushed himself off of the ground and stretched his arms. “Just be yourself and do it on your own way. If they like you, they like you for the person who you are and the decisions you make so i’m sure that it’ll work out. Just have a little more trust in yourself” He held out his hand to Sero and looked at his alarm clock. “C'mon, it’s getting late and i’m sure they won’t like someone who has bags under their eyes that are bigger than Bakugou’s outbursts” He said with a small grin.

Sero took Todoroki’s hand and got up, adjusting his shirt while chuckling a little at Todoroki’s reponse. “Yea, you’re right.. Once again, thank you and i’m sorry for waking you up so late at night..” Sero said while rubbing his neck while smiling awkwardly. He nodded to himself for a moment before he walked back towards the door to let himself out.

Todoroki sat down on the ground again and looked at his feet. He heard the door open and sighed, swallowing once before turning his head slightly. “I can see the way they look at you..Hurt them and i’ll freeze you like i did at the sports festival, without getting you out this time.”

Sero’s eyes widened and he froze on his spot for a few seconds. He gripped the door knob and his eyes softened, a small smile making his way onto his face as he nodded. “Thank you, Todoroki and i won’t don’t worry..'Night, roki”

And with that Sero left, leaving Todoroki by himself.

He put the dividers in front of the windows again and climbed back into his bed for the second time that night, his eyes settled onto the light of his alarm clock.

Todoroki wanted the same as Sero, he felt exactly the same, but they weren’t his. He was wrong when he thought Sero and them didn’t share such a deep as him and them..Because they did. Maybe he could hope that it wouldn’t work out between the two of them so he could maybe get a chance, but he pushed those selfish thoughts out of the way and closed his eyes.

And with that, Sero and (Y/n) grew closer. Todoroki’s dorm was right next to Sero’s and it wasn’t uncommon to hear laughter coming from the dorm next to him at night or to still hear some faint voices around 2 am. Todoroki saw how Sero would sit next to (Y/n) more often during dinner and heard the two of them do competitions with who had the lamest pick up lines. He saw how Sero would now, whenever (Y/n) laid their head on his shoulder, rest his own head on top of theirs, hold their hand and/or wrap his arm around them. How the two of them would 'coincidentally’ leave together somewhere during the movie.

Pressing the first button on the elevator, Todoroki leaned his head against the wall. It was around 2 am on a Saturday night and his throat felt dry and since they weren’t allowed sinks in their own dorm he had to go downstairs to get something to drink. He just woke up and he closed his eyes, waiting for the elevator doors to close when he heard a soft yelp.

“No, No, Wait- Fuck!”

Todoroki’s eyes snapped open and he saw a hand in between the elevator doors, stopping them from closing. The elevator doors opened again and he locked eyes with no one other than (Y/n). The moment the two of them locked eyes, (Y/n)’s eyes had widened as they quickly entered the elevator before it closed again. “Shouto..? Why are you awake, is something wrong?” They asked, putting their hand on his shoulder while examining his face.

Todoroki smiled a little and cleared his throat, his eyes travelling down to their neck and shoulders where there were a few small red and purple spots. They weren’t too dark or too much but they definitely were visible. He saw one sticking out of the collar of their shirt and assumed that there probably were quite a few more hiding under their clothes.

“I woke up thirsy, don’t worry..” He said as they sighed a bit relieved and removed their hands from his shoulder. They stepped back again and folded their hands together, looking at the elevator doors while pursing their lips.

There was a somewhat awkward silence for a moment before Todoroki cleared his throat, a small smirk dancing on his face. “Sero, huh?” He asked, (Y/n)’s face immediately heating up. Todoroki adverted his eyes from her and looked up at the screen that showed at which level they were.

They covered their face with their hand and sighed. “Yea..”

Todoroki nodded for a moment and sighed. “Does he treat you well?” He asked, looking at them and turning his body towards them. (Y/n) quickly nodded their head and smiled softly.

“Mhm..Hanta’s a really good guy, Shouto. He makes me really happy” They said, their (E/c) softening. The way their eyes softened was the exact same way Sero’s eyes softened when he looked at them. The exact same way how his eyes softened when he looked at them.

It hurt, knowing he couldn’t have them. He really didn’t like how much his chest ached because of it. The feeling as new and unfamiliar just like his feelings for them were. But those feelings were something he enjoyed, these new feelings were not something he enjoyed and wanted to hold onto.

Todoroki nodded once more and sighed. “Then i am happy for the two of you..” He said with a small smile, making (Y/n)’s face light up. They wrapped their arms around him and nuzzled their face into his shoulder, startling Todoroki slightly at first but it didn’t take long before the heterochromatic eyed male returned the favor.

He rubbed their back with his hand and smiled softly.

“Thank you, Sho” They muttered into his shirt.

Todoroki looked down at them and smiled, patting their back and tightening his arms around them. “No problem”

They weren’t his, they never were. But in the end all that mattered to Todoroki was that they were happy even if that was not with him but with someone else. For now, he’d have to slowly let go of the feelings he held for them but if they ever needed a shoulder to cry he’d be there.

He’d always be there.

[o-holynight]

Charismatic As Hell And Cute To Boot | All You Have To Do Is Fall In Love AU

Other Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 Author: Michaela - @o-holynight​ Pairing: Joe Mazzello / OFC Rating: T Word Count: 2.9k POV: Michaela Warnings: swearing Summary: After a full day of spending time with each other, neither Joe nor Michaela wants the date to end; So it doesn’t.

Masterlist found here! Series Summary: Best friends and college roommates Ben, Joe, and Gwil, find themselves tangled up with a group of girls who bring out the best (and worst) in them. Series Warnings: drinking, swearing Authors’ Note: Stories can stand alone, but it’s much better when read all together! Not everything is always in the same tense, or same point of view/perspective.

After hours of gushing to Sarah and working up the courage to ask her to ask Ben to ask Joe if he would even be interesting in having my number—I finally opened his contact. Having only a low quality Facebook tagged photo as the sole image to be his contact picture, it would have to do. Though he did look absolutely adorable in it; it was borderline attacking.

I stared at his name for a while longer, debating on whether or not I should even contact him. He was flirting, wasn’t he? Ben did say he liked me a whole lot...for being willing to shit his brains out later...but that’s besides the point. I thought of texting him and asking how he was doing, but maybe that was just adding salt to the wound? Ah, fuck it.

I triple checked my finger placement to make sure that I clicked “Message” and not, god forbid, call or FaceTime him, and started typing.

Hey Joe! How are you feeling? It’s Michaela, by the way.

Send. I really should have found something to preoccupy my mind while waiting for his response, But I didn’t think that far in advance. It seemed that Joe made me act without overthinking first. Oh boy this could be dangerous. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably in reality only 15 long agonizing minutes, I saw the three dots typing.

I clutched my phone to my chest, covering my mouth in fear of making an embarrassing middle schooler squeal. I made myself wait at least a full minute before looking back at my screen, not wanting to seem too eager.

I’m better, now that I’m talking to you. (: God, sorry, was that too cliche? I meant to say, still pretty terrible I feel like shit. And thanks for spelling your name out, I was wondering about that one. (:

He uses so many smiley faces, I can’t help but smile myself. I really think I must be in a dream sequence. And if my alarm goes off any second I will never forgive it.

Oh my god I’m SO SORRY!! Again, I really didn’t know and I would’ve totally made you something else. I really, really wish you didn’t have to suffer on my behalf. Haha yeah, it’s not too hard. Michael with an A.

I flipped around on my stomach, wedging my pillow under my chest, trying to find a comfortable position for a hopefully lengthy conversation.

Alrighty Michael A, that’s officially gonna be what you are in my contacts. And no, I’m not suffering...anymore.

We continued talking for hours on end. Lots of get-to-know-you questions ripped straight from questionnaires off the first three or so pages of Google. I’m not sure how we agreed upon this but the two of us were officially going on a date the very next day. Joe brought up this really good smoothie place in the middle of central campus, and I would have happily watched paint dry with the guy. So of course I agreed. We settled on lunchtime, which means there were only about 8 hours left until I could see him again. Which was one of the only reasons I was okay when he didn’t respond to my final text message, signaling that he had probably fallen asleep, like any self respecting human would have done at 4:00am.

The next morning I was flitting around the apartment like a madman at 10:00 am. “Guys what do I wear!! I want to be cute, but I can’t wear a dress we’ll be walking all around campus and my thighs will chafe and that’s not cute for anyone—“

Sarah grabs me by the shoulders. “Listen, just wear leggings and a t-shirt. It’s what you wore last time! It’s what he fell for you in.”

I blushed when she mentioned him falling for me. “Yeah but if I wear leggings and a t-shirt again, he will think all I wear is leggings and a t-shirt.”

“That is all you wear…” Ella piped up from the hallway, as she appeared in my room. “Besides your gay as hell Hawaiian shirt collection. But maybe save that for the second date, eh?”

“Okay FINE, but I’m going long sleeved this time. It’s a little breezy out there.” I said, checking my weather app for the third time this morning. I figured I’d be cold walking around, as well as drinking a smoothie.

At exactly one minute past twelve, I got a text saying that Joe was outside. My heart began its palpitations and I didn’t know if it would ever stop.

“Wish me luck!” I whispered as I passed my roommates, on my way to answer the door.

“Good luck! Get fucked!” they said in response, and I shot them a dagger-like glare before opening the door to greet Joe.

He was wearing jeans and also sporting a long sleeved t-shirt. It made him look so cozy that I could snuggle right up to him, but that would be a bit much. Or so I thought. He pulled me into a hug in the doorway, and I could have melted. His arms were so strong as they wrapped around my torso, and my face nestled tightly against his broad chest. “Hey! Long time no see, Michael A.” he said as he pulled away from the hug. I barely wanted to release my arms from around him, but I did.

“Back atcha...Joey.” I said, trying to come up with a similar nickname on the spot.

He cringed. “Oof, no one’s called me that in years.” he said with a fond smile.

We left the apartment after a couple of whoops and whistles of encouragement from Sarah. “Sorry about her. I think she’s just really excited.”

“Oh I don’t mind. Sarah’s great.” Joe chuckled. “Are you really excited?”

“I am.” I said, looking up at him, to find him staring up at me, smiling sweetly. It made me blush and return my gaze to the ground.

The two of us walked around in a comfortable silence for a while until we reached the smoothie shop. Joe opened the door for me, and followed behind. As we were standing in line, we poked fun at the silly words that they tried to pass off as smoothie names. I ordered a Kowabunga, some tropical coconut mango thing, and Joe snickered as he ordered the SOB, strawberry, orange, banana smoothie. “Man they just keep getting weirder huh.” He insisted on paying for both of our smoothies, though I tried to hand him a $5 bill, he snuck it back into my waistband where I kept my phone. “That...wasn’t supposed to be indicative of anything, that’s just...it’s where you had your money—“

“Hey, it’s fine Joey, don’t worry about it.” I said laughing at his flusteredness, grabbing his arm and walking out of the smoothie shop.

Once out through the doors, I dropped my hold on his arm, but he quickly slinked his hand down to grab ahold of mine, lacing our fingers together.

“This okay?” he asked, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. It sent tingles up my arm and directly to my heart. But all I could do was nod my head rapidly and smile.

We walked and talked for a while, sipping on our smoothies. “Joe,” I said draining the last of my smoothie before tossing it into a nearby trash can. “I have a confession.”

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding a bit nervous. “Confess away.”

“I’m allergic to fruit.” I said, looking up at him and pursing my lips.

“What!? And you let me bring you to a smoothie shop. You’re worse than me with the cheese! Why are you just telling me this now?” He asked, hitting me in the side with both of our hands clasped together.

“Because I wanted to finish my smoothie before you made me get rid of it. It’s nothing too bad. It’s just like when you eat too much pineapple and your mouth gets really sore, except it’s all fruit all the time.” I said, used to my spiel.

“I can’t say that’s ever happened to me, guess I gotta eat more pineapple and feel the burn.” he said, sipping on his last bit of smoothie, and reaching awkwardly towards a trash can, unwilling to let go of my hand.

We talked for a bit more, walking past buildings that we both had classes in, telling class horror stories, making sure to let each other know which professors to never sign up for a class with. I learned that Joe is a film major, and hopes to be a director one day.

“I think you’re quite suited to being in front of the camera too.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re charismatic as hell, and cute to boot.” I said knocking my hip into his.

He smiled at the ground, rubbing at his neck nervously. “Aw shucks, you’re makin’ me blush now.”

“Good.” I said, trying to be a little more forward than I usually am. I really liked this guy, and I desperately needed not to blow it this time.

“I like film though. I really do. Learning how to make a scene come out just right. Seeing it go from a small viewfinder to the big screen. The editing process. It’s all great. But I’m really into all the old cameras and shit. My dad got me this camcorder with a whole bunch of tapes for by birthday last year and I’ve just been fuckin around with that lately. Something about the old method just really adds something special. Oh...sorry—I uh, swear a lot.” He said, going on and on about his passions, as I studied his face. When he talked about what made him happy, I could see a sparkle in his eye that made him ten times more attractive than he already was.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I love a good potty mouth.” I smirked. “So what do you do in your free time then?”

He shoved his free hand in his jeans pocket before speaking. “Well, like I said I’m into all that old film, so I really enjoy photography too. Digital and film. There’s a great dark room on campus that you can sign up for time in, it’s really cool. The process smells like rotting asshole but the results are worth it I like to think.”

“Oh I’m familiar. I took a photography class in high school. I have a film camera lying around my house somewhere back home. I should bring it back with me next time I go.” I said heart soaring that we had something in common. “Do you work?”

“Oh yeah. I work at Dick’s. Sporting Goods. Not a strip club or anything.” he joked.

“I know what Dick’s is.” I whispered, before giggling. “Yeah Sarah goes there all the time.”

“Really? Don’t think I’ve ever seen her in before.”

“Well, she says apparently they have the best sports bras in town? Maybe you need to spend a little more time in the lingerie section of your sporting goods store and you’ll find her.”

We walked aimlessly for a little while longer. Once we had lapped the entire campus twice without realizing, we decided maybe we should be heading back. But we both knew that neither of us wanted to leave.

As we were driving back to my place in his truck, he had his hand resting on my knee, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

We walked extremely slowly up to my residence, and lingered in the hallway outside my door. I was holding loosely onto his thumb as I leaned back against the doorframe, just wanting some form of contact, as we had barely let go of each other the whole day.

“Um, so they just released a new show on Netflix…” Joe started.

“Wanna come in and watch it?” I asked immediately, knowing nothing about the show, the genre, the storyline, the cast. But again, I’d watch paint dry just to spend more time with him.

“Well sheesh, buy me a drink first why don’t ya, I’m not that easy.” he snickered. “Yeah sure great let’s do it.” Joe said, smiling that I had gone for his bait.

I unlocked the door and he walked in, looking around for a second, taking in all the attempts at home decor that the three of us could muster. He nodded in approval.

“Well since you’re in already guess you won’t be needing that drink after all.”

“Hey, it’s 5:00 somewhere, and that somewhere is here!” he said, glancing down at his watch, noticing it was almost half past 5.

“Any drink in particular you fancy? Preferably something I could make with a limited stock of ingredients.”

“Rum and coke is fine.” Joe smiled, taking a tentative seat on the big comfy chair that faced the TV.

I whipped it up quickly, making one for myself as well. More coke than rum though, for me. “Sorry we don’t have any limes left. Ben used them all last week. It’s a simple drink, cause I’m a simple girl. It’s not the Four Seasons or anything.”

“Hey, Ben works there, you know. He should know a thing or two about the importance of proper garnishes. I’m only kidding. It’s great, thank you.”

I paused for a half a second wondering if there was room for two on the seat he was sitting on. He must’ve picked up on this, because he wiggled over slightly and patted the cushion beside him. I smiled and sat down eagerly. The cushion was very soft and worn, and it dipped down in the center, making both of us slide towards each other, thighs touching. It was nice.

I leaned forward to grab the remote off of the coffee table, and when I leaned back into the chair, Joe’s arm was situated around the back. He placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently, and I leaned into his chest, practically laying on top of him.

At that moment, Sarah and Ella heard the familiar tone of Netflix being turned on, and emerged from their rooms.

“Michaela!! Why didn’t you tell us you were back, tell us all about your day with—Joe!!” Sarah started, pausing when she saw Joe’s head poke up from the back of the chair, my head peeking out shortly after.

“Nice place you got, McDonald. Where’d you get all this top notch decor, Target?” Joe teased, his hand moving down from my shoulder to resting right above my waist. I bit my lip to try and prevent any further reaction, though I wanted to scream giddily.

“As a matter of fact yes, what the fuck is wrong with that.” Sarah said crossing her arms in front of her.

“Seems a little cliche for a place full of white girls.”

“Okay, mister liquor bottle, you’ve got a lotta balls coming in here like that.” Sarah chuckled as she sat on the arm of the adjacent sofa. That’s when she noticed that his arm was wrapped tightly around my waist.

“I see you two are getting comfortable with each other, I’ll leave you to it… Ella let's go watch something in here.” Sarah said, pulling Ella away from the two of us so we could enjoy the rest of our date.

The night went on, and the conversation never dulled. Whatever series was rolling on Netflix was more of a background noise for the ramblings between the two of us sitting on the big comfy chair. Over the hours, Joe had gradually slid down in his seat, head resting on the back cushion. I had my legs draped over his, and his fingers were tracing mindlessly over the sliver of skin exposed at the ankle of my leggings. It all felt so natural, like we had known each other for years. Except everything was new. Every fact I learned about the man made me fall a little deeper for him. We had so much in common despite living such different childhoods.

We lost all track of time, and didn’t even notice when Netflix timed out on the ‘Are you still watching?’ screen. I don’t even know who fell asleep first, but I woke up in the middle of the night to a room barely illuminated by the dark light of the TV’s screensaver. The blanket that usually laid across the back of the chair was wrapped around Joe and I, and his arm was slung over my middle, gripping me tightly, holding me close. I rubbed my eyes and adjusted my position, pulling the blanket further up on my body. Joe stirred at my movements and gave a little stretch.

“Don’t worry about moving, ‘wanna stay like this.” I whispered softly, moving in even closer, laying my head onto his chest and wrapping my arms around his torso.

His hand came to rest in my hair, stroking it softly before falling back asleep. The sound of his breath evening out and the slowing of his heart beat lulled me back to sleep as well. I could definitely get used to this.

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

@a-night-at-the-0pera @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @lelifesaver @redspecialty @rrrogahtaylahhhh

[vampiresmiled]

✩ kaidette

i haven’t even started it yet and i know this is gonna physically pain me … let’s go ! leggo, my eggo. update : i finished it and now i’m depresso. 

DISAGREEMENTS

who is more likely to raise their voice? odette. she is a very loud human being.who threatens to leave but never actually does? typical kai antics.who actually keeps their word and leaves? if odette says she’ll leave, then she’ll leave. sorry bout it. who trashes the house? odette’s the type to throw some glasses on the floor to make a point. loud and clear !do either of them get physical? despite his history, i don’t think kai would. but odette would definitely poke at that shit to try and get a reaction from him. he’d leave. she’d be pissed. life is hard. how often do they argue/disagree? like every day, she’s her. it’s never that serious, though.who is the first to apologize? kai. she never apologizes, not even once.

SEX

who is on top? i want to preface this by saying they’ve never had sex, they never will have sex and all that is being spoken now is totally not an accurate portrayal of the future. anyways, odette rides him like a mechanical bull.who is on the bottom? kai. she pegs him, too.who has the strangest desires? probably kai. she’s not that … adventurous. for obvious reasons. any kinks? kai shutting the fuck up.who’s dominant in bed? listen. normal circumstances, not to speak ill of the dead, but – with n*c she was the more dominant party ‘cos she got them issues, we been knew. with kai, however, the trust this girl has … he can put her in a chokehold and she’d be like, haha cute. is head ever in the equation? if it wasn’t she’d leave. if so, who is better at performing it? kai. ever had sex in public? no and they never will.who moans the most? you really gonna make me out my girl like this.who leaves the most marks? odette. if she’s gonna rid herself of her morals and smash this giant man, she’s gonna make it clear he’s OFF-LIMITS. who screams the loudest? eye-who is the more experienced of the two? kai. obviously. one hundred percent. do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? no matter what she says, no matter the circumstance, it’ll always be the latter. rough or soft? depends on how pissy she is.how long do they usually last? like, way too long. send ava away to camp long. is protection used? yes, she doesn’t want another one of THOSE. does it ever get boring? probably not. they’ve known each other since they were YOUTHS, if they aren’t bored by now they never will be. where is the strangest place they’d have sex? reality. 

FAMILY

do your muses plan on having children/or have children? i know kai does but with odette i am unsure ™ ! i think she’d want a kid if the opportunity presented itself, but she’d never actively plan for one.if so, how many children do your muses want/have? fucking no more than two. counting ava. who is the favorite parent? kai. like he already is.who is the authoritative parent? odette. like she already is.who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? kai. he’s the cool dad. the funky dad. who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? you think i’m gonna say kai ‘cos he’s more lax ? no. odette can’t cook, you think she’s gonna deprive these kids of poptarts if they so desire it ? fuck no. who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? kai. honestly, odette can’t really be bothered ‘cos kids doing shit is … BORING. but kai would drag her along. who goes to parent teacher interviews? kai. odette threatened to beat up ava’s math teacher once and the rest is history.who changes the diapers? kai. who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? kai. truly, he’s giving his all here folks.who spends the most time with the children? also kai. maybe odette is just a deadbeat. stay tuned for more at six.who packs their lunch boxes? please don’t make me say kai again.who gives their children ‘the talk’? definitely fucking kai. odette never got the talk herself, she just caught her mom smashing some drunk once and that’s how she was introduced to the world of sex. who cleans up after the kids? also kai.who worries the most? like about trivial shit ? kai. homework, soccer practice and what not, that’s his territory. odette worries about the social stuff. like first boyfriend, meeting new people, sending ava off to college. that’s scary. a shitty grade is not. who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? odette, big oof. 

AFFECTION

who likes to cuddle? both. but odette has a tendency to initiate it, ‘cos he’s a big ass pussy.who is the little spoon? most of the time, odette. ‘cos she’s wittle. but bad mood kai is definitely getting spooned the fuck out of.who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? * insert the lap hc i sent you many moons ago * “ what if he gets a hard-on ? ” “ she’d leave. ”who struggles to keep their hands to themself? odette. how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? like a good while. she’s not that affectionate in general but kai’s more like an extension of her. odette’s emotional support teddy bear, you know. who gives the most kisses? kai. what is their favourite non-sexual activity? reluctantly watching star trek and cuddling on the sofa. fuck off. if beer is involved all the better. hanging out with ava is just like a good time, too, for whatever reason. where is their favourite place to cuddle? bed. couch is very chillaxed and they hang there most often. but bed … when she sneaks into his room ‘cos hers is cold and its his fault and she puts her cold ass feet on him and wraps herself up next to him in his blanket like a wittle burrito – that’s soft antics. who is more likely to playfully grope the other? odette. how often do they get time to themselves? not that often now that ava is grounded, but otherwise, pretty often. 

SLEEPING

who snores? no one, but sometimes odette.if both do, who snores the loudest? who ya think.do they share a bed or sleep separately? depends on the day.if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? i mean, when she does sleep in his bed it is to cuddle and ‘cos they’re in a good place. but sometimes, she’s there even when she’s mad at him. so, really, it’s fifty/fifty. okay, more like eighty/twenty. who talks in their sleep? neither.what do they wear to bed? she snags his shirts, might as well be nightgowns the length of them. when he knows she’ll be in there he is clothed, and by clothed i mean pjs and a tee. when he doesn’t, he’s just all about freeing the nipple. she prefers the latter but you didn’t hear it from me. are either of your muses insomniacs? i feel like kai has some issues sleeping. and odette, to a degree. she will wake him up for late night convos which mostly are just whining and her poking fun at him. sometimes it gets deep and borderline ‘ what if ’ … she pretends it never happened in the morn. can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? they’re kais, odette likes them with her wine.do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? side by side. who wakes up with bed hair? both.who wakes up first? kai, no doubt.who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? also kai.what is their favourite sleeping position? she likes being the little spoon. she also likes having her head on his chest with him holding her like the small baby she is. who hogs the sheets? odette.do they set an alarm each night? kai does. can a television be found in their bedroom? nope. it’s they-time. i say as if it isn’t his bedroom. truth is, they’re too poor for it.who has nightmares? not so much anymore but odette. who has ridiculous dreams? i feel like kai doesn’t dream. he’s too grounded for it.who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? odette. which is impossible ‘cos she’s a baby.who makes the bed? kai, ‘cos it’s his.what time is bed time? whenever odette crawls in there.any routines/rituals before bed? not that i can think of. check back again in 3-4 business days.who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? odette, no doubt in my mind. she’s always pissy. more so in the morning, though.

WORK

who is the busiest? kai, probably. but his schedule is also more predictable than hers, so.who rakes in the highest income? odette. breadwinner right there.are any of your muses unemployed? nope.who takes the most sick days? no one. odette’s got a tendency to skip shit ‘cos she’s lazy but when she’s sick she powers through ‘cos she’s not WEAK.who is more likely to turn up late to work? odette.who sucks up to their boss? kai.what are their jobs? he’s a nurse bitch and she’s a bounty-hunter. in connecticut. yeah, that pays … who stresses the most? kai, probably.do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? i think they both enjoy them.are your muses financially stable? hell no.

HOME

who does the washing? kai, he’s so powerful.who takes out the trash? kai.who does the ironing? kai.who does the cooking? kai.who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? odette ! it’s a wonder she hasn’t already in my opinion.who is messier? odette. literally … without him and ava she’d be lost. who leaves the toilet roll empty? odette. she’s just a fantastic roommate, isn’t she.who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? also odette.who forgets to flush the toilet? ava.who is the prankster around the house? kai’s more fun but odette likes to mess with him. pranks are a-okay if she started them, but don’t you dare put flour in her blowdryer unprompted. who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? odette, every single time. kai has an extra set of keys for literally everything.who mows the lawn? apartment people.who answers the telephone? kai. odette pretends she doesn’t hear it ringing.who does the vacuuming? kai.who does the groceries? also kai.who takes the longest to shower? still kai, m’dude. who spends the most time in the bathroom? the answer might surprise you … it’s kai. odette takes ten minute showers and blowdries her hair and then she’s out the door. kai takes styling his hair very seriously. it’s an art form ! and also he shaves and gets hair everywhere which adds like 15 minutes. 

MISCELLANEOUS

is money a problem? more like is money ever NOT a problem. they figure it out, though, but shit’s tight. so no skateboards for the kids.how many cars do they own? used to be one before they got to town. now they got two. good for them.do they own their home or do they rent? rent.do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? literally i don’t know where sheffield is stop asking me this.do they live in the city or in the country? downtown apartment.do they enjoy their surroundings? no, they miss california and they really have got no reason to stay except ava’s inevitable bitching if they move again. what’s their song? rocket man by elton john. no one but luna gets to know the story.what do they do when they’re away from each other? odette got no hobbies and honestly, does kai ? so nothing. they do too much together. odette hangs out with jack and emma but that’s literally it. where did they first meet? the streets ™ honestly, i dunno. probably some youthful hangout underneath a bridge in chino. there was a burn barrel, kids were doing coke and they bonded. how did they first meet? is that not the same as the first question. they met being homeless and annoying. odette thought he was too tall and he thought she was too bitchy. the rest is history.who spends the most money when out shopping? odette. she’s cheap, but she also has no concept of money. she throws dollar bills at walmart like it was a strip club. who’s more likely to flash their assets? neither. they were homeless and in the foster care, they don’t like braggarts and the rich. who finds it amusing when the other trips over? odette laughs every single time. sometimes she trips him, she’s mature like that.any mental issues? too many to count.who’s terrified of bugs? i feel like odette has a distaste for them but she doesn’t really give an f. kai doesn’t like spiders, though. she likes getting those toy ones on halloween and put them in his bed. who kills the spiders around the house? odette because : see above. their favourite place? his shitty car. sometimes they ride around and do fuck-all, like they’re back to their youth. sometimes they sit in the front-seat, parked on some remote spot in the woods and they smoke. cool, thanks. who pays the bills? both.do they have any fears for their future? not really. they’re pretty solid, honestly. not really worrisome people at their cores. who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? kai, honestly. just ‘cos he can cook and she fucking can’t.who uses up all of the hot water? odette. her showers might be short but the water’s scorching. if it doesn’t burn the skin off her body, she doesn’t want it.who’s the tallest? you come into my home … who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? we have never encountered this scenario before and we absolutely will not, ever, ever, ever. but odette 110%. who wanders around in their underwear? odette. and i’m not sorry about it.who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? kai * cue the scene in the last song w miley & liam *what do they tease each other about? everything. nothing’s off limits which is absolutely stupid as hell. i mean, obviously they don’t mention ~ the things ~ but, a lot of it has to do with parenting techniques and their past as street rats. odette likes to mock his height, he tries to do the same but she smacks him when he does. who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? odette. she wears like neutrals and blacks, there’s nothing to make fun of. kai on the other hand …do they have mutual friends? do emma and jack really count ?who crushed first? you want me to say kai but odette is the truth, so back the fuck off.any alcohol or substance related problems? i mean … they both got their respective histories and that’s messy and odette really can’t handle her liquor sometimes but they got it under control, thanks.who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? odette, duh.who swears the most? this is not a question i will validate with a response.

[juicehoee]

All Along the Watchtower {Chapter 4: Ghosts and Demons} (Juice Ortiz)

One/Two/Three/Four/Five

This chapter is almost 5,500 words so enjoy!

Chapter 4: Ghosts and Demons

“Have you ever seen the Conjuring?” Lana waved the DVD in front of Juice’s face. He sat idly, looking dreamily into the distance.

The clubhouse was bathed in a soothing yellow-orange light that danced across the walls and the floor. Amber rays accented the wood of the bar, covering the place with a cozy aura that made Juice want to place his head in the crook of his arm and just drift to sleep right there. It was quiet, save for the occasional car zipping down the street, but it was a faraway sound like part of a movie on the television with the volume turned down real low. He was practically dreaming now; his eyes were open, but his mind wasn’t there. It whizzed across the plane between wakefulness and sleepiness; an unconscious purgatory that felt like a brand new home in the dim, amber light of the bar.

Juice perched on the bar with a short glass of whiskey clenched in his fist, deep in thought about some very important things in his life. Was it worth driving down to Nevada tonight? Priscilla had invited him up for the weekend, but he was covering Sack’s Sunday afternoon shift at the garage which meant he had to drive three hours there on a Friday night and drive another three on a Sunday morning. He was having second thoughts about this girl; her and her Uncle Lenny seemed a little too friendly picking up a guy with head tats and an MC kutte without too many questions. It was weird for country folk to be so open about a grown man letting a guy like Juice into his vehicle with his pretty niece in the backseat. Most horror movies started out that way.

Juice, you’re just being paranoid, he told himself. Don’t screw up a good thing with a nice girl gettin’ caught up with all the little details.

He and Priscilla weren’t anything particularly official yet (a few texts back and forth do not a relationship make), but he wanted to talk to her again. He wanted to know about Boston, about her parents, about her life out there in the middle of nowhere, about her high school hockey career. She was so interesting and there was so much information he wanted to learn.

“Hello?” Lana smacked Juice on the nose with the DVD. “Earth to Juice!”

He jumped in alarm a mile in the air, his ass crashing back down onto the barstool. “Holy hell, you scared the shit out of me. Are you trying to give me a damn heart attack?”

“Sorry.” Lana shrugged. Juice decided she definitely didn’t mean it. “You were pretty zoned for five minutes and I kept calling your name, but you didn’t answer.”

Juice looked around the bar to see if Clay or Tig were around. It was silly, considering Clay went home about two hours ago and Tig had been missing in action for most of the day. In fact, you could hear crickets creaking with how quiet the bar was, highly unusual for a Friday night. Juice just figured most of the guys had gone to drink wherever Bobby was performing tonight. As per usual, he either forgot about his invite or didn’t get one at all. Juice and Lana were alone in the bar and it was the first time they’d spoken since the incident at dinner almost a week ago.

“Clay’s not here to beat your ass if that’s what you’re worried about.” Lana chuckled, propping herself on the barstool next to him. “Although, I’m pretty sure you could take him in a fight.”

She poked at his biceps, feeling the taut muscles of his arms that just oozed a sense of strength and masculinity. Sure, he might be able to take Clay in a purely physical head to head match, but Clay had powers he and Lana could only dream of. Still, he didn’t mind her admiring how strong he was and how high her opinion of him seemed to be in hand-to-hand combat. It was nice to be considered strong for once.

“Yeah, I could punch Clay a few times but he could have me buried off the highway and no one would ever find my body.” Juice said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “So, if I turn up dead, check the highway.”

“Easier said than done.” Lana rolled her eyes at him, but turned to face him and got quite serious all of a sudden. “I just wanted to apologize for getting you in trouble. I didn’t mean to cause anything between you and Clay. I know it’s hard being one of the new guys anyway and the guys still treat you like a prospect even though they’ve already got a new prospect.”

“It’s alright, you didn’t get me in trouble. Clay’s just a crazy old man and he’s gotta keep you safe for your dad while he’s not around.” Juice said. “I can understand that. You should, too.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Lana was quiet after that.

A few minutes passed by with neither of them moving. The tension was palpable, a thick smog of unspoken words suspended themselves in the air between the two, focusing on the space between their bodies on the barstool. She was desperate to be his friend and he was desperate for a friend; he was just afraid that they looked for the wrong kinds of satisfaction in each other.

Lana reached across the bar, sick of the silence. She picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels from under the counter and poured the delicious stuff into a glass, knowing anyone who checked the contents of the bar would never dream of suspecting her. Genius.

“When did you even get here?” Juice asked, finishing his own glass in a few more careful sips. He enjoyed the slow burn of his throat as it went down to his gullet, settling comfortably in the warmth of his belly. His eyes closed a bit; he felt so sleepy. “Thought you’d be at Bobby’s gig. You’re an Elvis fan, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. Just didn’t feel like facing everybody today, but I didn’t want to go back home either.” Lana avoided his eyes, swirling a drink with a little red mixer. “Came in through the back a few minutes ago while you were in the Dreamland.”

“The Dreamland?”

“You looked like you were asleep but with your eyes open. Dead to the world. I called your name over and over, but you didn’t even blink. I thought you had overdosed or something and I got worried.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Juice said, reach over the bar to put his empty glass in the sink. Someone would get it in the morning. Probably.

“If you say so.” Lana didn’t sound convinced, but she was preoccupied with the Jack Daniels.

As she was about to take her first sip, Juice jumped into action. He hopped up and knocked the drink out of her hand. The glass flew a few feet and crashed onto the hard floor, shattering into a thousand pieces and spilling Jack all over the floor. Lana stared at the mess in horror as Juice looked at her in horror.

“Are you trying to get me killed, girl?” he yelled, shaking her by the shoulders.

“You’re the one trying to get me killed!” Lana yelled back, shoving him off of her. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’re nineteen! You can’t be in here underage drinking on my watch!” Juice threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

“Then don’t watch.” Lana shot back. “You’re not my keeper. You’re my friend.”

“Yeah, well Clay would kill me if he knew I was in the clubhouse alone with you,” Juice paced back and forth. “Just imagine what he’d do if he knew I let you get sloshed on Jack Daniels.”

“He’s not here,” Lana pointed out. “It’s not like he’d ever find out.”

“Yeah, well,” Juice started, staring at the open bottle and wanting to smash it to the ground (but he didn’t have the patience to clean up two huge messes tonight). “You just shouldn’t be drinking anyway. You’re young and it’s bad for your liver.”

Lana was quiet, staring at the shattered glass on the floor. Her body turned away from him, particularly, her face, though he could see the red of her cheeks in the outline of her profile. He didn’t mean to embarrass her, but he was already treading on thin ice and he wasn’t a great role model to begin with. What if one of the guys walked in? He’d be toast. Still, it wasn’t his intention to humiliate her.

Juice closed the distance between them and held her face in his hands. “Look at me.” he pleaded tenderly. “Please.”

She turned her face toward him, but refused to meet his eyes. Half a win was better than nothing, he figured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“What are we gonna do about the broken glass?” Lana ignored his apology and just kept eyeing the mess.

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry about it.” Juice’s voice lowered into a soothing whisper. “It’s my fault. We’ll call it a. . . muscle spasm.”

“Are you sure?” Lana asked. Her face was still tomato red and she avoided him like the plague. In his head, he gave her the benefit of the doubt that the yellow light making it that much worse. It was kind of cute in a way, but he shook that thought from his brain real quick. It was stupid to think like that right now.

Juice went to a cupboard behind the bar to get the broom and a little barrel to put the glass in. Lana sat at the bar and watched him as he cleaned up the glass. Cleaning was a talent of his, something he did regularly to keep him occupied. Boredom plagued Juice often and cleaning straightened his head out when he had nothing to do or things got a little fuzzy. His head always ran a little ragged and the serenity of cleaning the broken glass cooled him off a little bit thinking about Lana.

Dammit, he wasn’t even acting that drunk and everything was acting up already. Not a good look, Ortiz. He needed to straighten himself out.

Lana got up and got a Pepsi from the fridge, sipping on that while staring hard into the bar counter. She knew her crush on Juice was hopeless and reeked of high school girl fantasy, but it still hurt when she took a running leap trying to get to know him and landing on her face at his feet while Clay stood over like them like a watchful overlord. She felt like she always fucked up when there were people watching and the club had been keeper a closer eye on her lately.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What was your question?” Juice emptied the last of the glass into the trash barrel.

“Have you ever seen the Conjuring?” Lana asked, showing him the DVD cover. “You know the one with the haunted Annabelle doll that takes over that family’s farmhouse? It’s based on a true story.”

“No, but I remember it coming out in theaters.” Juice recalled, taking the DVD from her. “Didn’t make it to the theater in time to see it. You like scary movies?”

“Yeah, I guess this stuff is kind of a guilty pleasure for me.” Lana laughed to herself under her breath. “You want to watch it? I was just gonna hang out in the back room tonight. I think my mother has been circling my apartment building all week.”

The DVD had the blurry image of a tree with a noose hanging down from it with The Conjuring displayed across the top. The whole thing was creepy looking, but didn’t stick out from any of the other bad horror movies he had seen in the theaters every once in awhile. The noose unsettled him a little bit, but not enough for him to decide either way on the quality of the movie. He guessed it peaked his interest enough even with the tugging feeling in his lungs that pushed him toward the door and home to his cats.

“Come on, watch it with me.” Lana urged. She got up and grabbed his hand, coaxing him toward the back room. “Don’t make me watch it alone! Creepy dolls are my weakness.”

Juice didn’t pull away. He followed her lead into the crash pad in the back room, separate from the dorm rooms. “You sound like Tig.”

“Yeah, well, where do you think I get my phobia from?” Lana smirked. “When I was six, he told me a story about a haunted doll that convinced a kid to kill his whole family in cold blood. Couldn’t sleep for weeks. The man has a knack for the gruesome little details.”

“He’s like an episode of Law and Order: SVU come to life.” Juice agreed, flipping on the light switch and bathing them in the same dim, yellow light of the bar.

“Gotta love him though.” Lana said. “He’s always been a sweetheart to me.”

“You just said he’s the source of your phobias.” Juice deadpanned.

“It’s not his fault. He didn’t do it on purpose.” Lana said. “I’ve always liked him.”

“If you say so.” Juice let it go.

Tig gave him the creeps and the clear blue sheen of his eyes reminded Juice of being stranded out at sea while being circled by sharks in a life raft with a hole in it. It was a smothering feeling of hostility, but then again, they really hadn’t gotten to know each other that well yet. He could be the sweetest guy with the biggest heart for all Juice knew. He had his doubts, but he had always been one for giving people the benefit of the doubt despite first impressions.

“Ready?” Juice asked.

“Ready.”

There was an old leather couch against the back wall and a small television next to the door. The television gave off 1970s vibes with two antennae sticking up from the back of the box. It didn’t look like the thing would even hold up for a two and a half hour flick, but they’d be damned if they didn’t try.

“Jesus Christ,” Lana looked shocked. “Is that a fucking toaster?”

Juice’s eyes widened at the profanity having never heard it from her mouth before. “Might as well be. Might make the whole experience a little creepier. It adds a certain horror atmosphere.”

Lana took his hand again. She had a slightly terrified look in her eyes and he was starting to suspect she was lying about being into horror movies. They hadn’t even put the disc in. He decided to test his little theory as he put the DVD into the player with one hand.

“We can pretend we’re in one of those old slasher flicks,” he suggested, furrowing his eyebrows and putting on a crazed grin he had learned from watching Stephen King’s It as a kid. “Like Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers is gonna come through the door and cut out throats before we can get out.”

Lana squeezed his hand hard, and he felt the softness of her palms. She inched closer to him and looked out the window, expecting a deranged killer to be standing there with a butcher knife. Juice knew the only way that would happen was if one of his brothers had returned to the clubhouse from Bobby’s gig early. That would be a real fucking horror movie then with real blood instead of the ketchup shit they use in film.

“Don’t be scared.” Juice told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a comforting squeeze. “You’ve got a big scary biker to ward off all the bad guys for you.”

“Thanks.” she gave him a weak smile. “But haunted dolls aren’t gonna see your kutte and run like everyone else does.”

“Jesus Christ, Lana,” he rolled his eyes and smiled wide at her. “Let me have my hero moment here, okay?”

“Okay,” she let up on him, weakened by his smile. Dammit, that fucking smile made her knees weak. How could he even be real? “You can be my hero for the night then.”

“Thank you.” he grabbed the remote and dragged them both to the lumpy old couch.

Halfway through the movie, he noticed Lana out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t cowering, but her eyes were wide, barely blinking. Juice decided to break the tension in hopes that lightening the mood would have her freaked out a little less, but he didn’t have much experience in comforting scared little girls. He wasn’t Superman, for Christ’s sake.

“Why don’t I go make us some microwave popcorn?” Juice stood up right as a woman onscreen screamed her bloody lungs out. “You want extra butter or-”

“No1” Lana hopped up next to him, latching onto his forearm with insistence. “Don’t leave me here by myself.”

“It’s just a movie-”

“Please.” Lana pleaded, digging her nails into his wrists. “Please, Juice. I’m humbly begging you. You hold my life in your hands.”

“Alright, alright.” Juice conceded, taking note of the real fear he saw in the downturned corners of her lips. “Let’s just sit back down and finish the movie alright.”

With no popcorn (he’d make some when he got home for the night, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without some of it now that he was craving it), they starting watching the movie in all of its glory: screaming children and a sense of instability that made Juice’s stomach churn.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a bad movie. It actually gave him the creeps and made him look at the dark hallway outside a few times, looking for something that shouldn’t be there. It was ridiculous, but he felt a little paranoid himself. Lana looked worse for the wear as time went on; slowly becoming more and more pale like she was turning into a ghost.

“Hey, you okay?” Juice asked, putting a hand on her forehead to check if she had a fever. He felt her warm skin against the back of his knuckles, but it wasn’t hot enough to be a concern.

“I’m fine. It’s just the movie.” she gave him a weak smile. “I’m okay. I’m a big girl, Juice.”

He didn’t believe her especially since her hands were practically shaking every time she glanced at the television. “Come here,” he uttered and she didn’t argue.

Juice adjusted himself so he was laying back on the arm of the couch. He leaned over and gathered her in his arms so the top half of her body was pressed against his chest. One of his hands rubbed her back slowly in soothing circles as he hugged her close to them. Her body relaxed against him, preoccupied with the thought of him so that she completely forgot about the movie. Juice’s chin rested on the top of Lana,s head and he breathed in the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo.

In an article he read, mice were conditioned to fear the scent of cherry blossoms by being shocked after being exposed. Their offspring also feared the scent of cherry blossoms even though they had never come into contact with it, and that’s how some scientists decided that fear and memories can be genetic. But he wasn’t a mouse, and he wasn’t scared. Still, it felt like he was being shocked with electricity and he didn’t know if it was a good thing or a terrible, terrible thing.

“Your hair smells nice.” he commented, burying his nose in her brunette hair.

“Thanks.” she whispered, in awe of him.

There was an unmistakable strength in his arms around her, like gates keeping the ghosts out protecting her from herself (because, of course, the ghosts were all inside her head). The way he ran his hands up and down her back felt like heaven and she could feel the roughness of his hands through her shirt, undoubtedly from his short time working as a mechanic.

She took his other hand in hers, playing with the three gold rings that adorned his fingers. Her pointer finger rubbed the designs on them, all different versions of scary skeletons and other things that added to the image of the big, bad biker he was trying to portray.

“You know, I got into a bar fight a few weeks ago.” Juice told her. “Punched a guy with the rings on and they left a pretty gnarly mark on the guy’s cheek.”

“I bet. I’m sure those rings are tougher than you,” she teased.

They stayed like that, comfortable and happy, while the movie went on, but neither had followed along with the story for a while. Juice could feel Lana’s back rise and fall against him as she breathed and his lungs kept eventually learned to keep in pace with hers.

“Are you still watching the movie?” Juice asked, brushing aside a piece of hair that had fallen into her face.

“I don’t know.” Lana answered, swirling the rings in circles around his fingers.

Juice pulled back his hand from hers and held her under her chin. As her head turned up toward him, he kissed her. He fucking kissed.

Fuck it, he was a dead man, but he was gonna live it up until Clay had Skeeter burn him alive in the incinerator.

Lana was surprised, but she kissed him back as the screaming on the television faded away into the background. She focused on how soft his lips were (they should be, he carried around Blistex 24/7) and how they moved with hers. She clutched him to her, afraid to let him go, and dug her nails into him desperately.

As abruptly as it started, it ended and they separated, but not fully. She still lay against him and he still wrapped an arm around her, holding her at the small of her back. They waited politely for the movie to end, wondering just how the night would end for both of them. Barriers had been broken and the concept of careful had flown out the window. Uncharted territory frightened the both of them.

The credits eventually rolled down the screen, but the tv chose that moment to die and left them complete darkness to contemplate the idea of the clubhouse being haunted. Neither of them wanted to move, but risking falling asleep and waking up to Tig or Chibs finding them was a stupid idea.

“I can give you a ride home, if you want.” Juice offered. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Lana didn’t answer; the darkness had jolted her into delving into an imagination wrought with demons and banshees willing to tear her apart while she couldn’t see them. Her breathing was slow, but her heartbeat was rapid, thumping against her chest uncontrollably. She prayed Juice couldn’t hear it.

“Do you think demons are real?” She asked, timid and quiet. “Like, they can just possess people whenever they want and stuff?”

And that was the very moment Juice decided he wasn’t going to leave her alone in her apartment or the clubhouse. He placed a kiss on her forehead, holding her close to him.

“Come on, you can stay at my house tonight. I’m not leaving you alone for the demons to snatch you up.” Juice smirked. “Anyway, you haven’t met my cats yet, right?”

{***}

“Here are the keys to the black Sedan you needed, Gem.” Juice dropped the keys on the desk in front of her and turned to go straight back into the garage.

“Juice, wait a second.” Gemma said, stopping him before he could slip back into his work.

“Yeah?” Juice asked. “What can I do for you?”

It was hard not to be intimidated by the Queen of Charming when she wanted to have a word with you. Especially in the office where she had the entire club for backup, and that included her husband and son who would snap someone’s neck without a second thought for her. Please, God, he hoped she didn’t want his neck snapped. He was on too many people’s bad sides these days and he didn’t think he could afford to add another one to his list. Clay wanted him dead, Tig was with him, he couldn’t get a read on Jax, and Dolly (his precious cat) hadn’t been talking to him since he started going up to Nevada every couple of weeks to see Priscilla.

“Have a seat.” she told him.

Oh no, this could not be good.

Juice did as he was told, taking a seat in front of Gemma. She took her glasses off and folded them neatly, hanging them on the collar of her shirt. He felt like he was at the principal’s office in high school again, getting reamed for hacking through the school’s firewall so he and his friends could watch porn during study hall. Now, it was easy to admit he was a dumbass kid who didn’t know what to do with his talent, but Principal Wilkins was nowhere near as terrifying as Gemma Teller-Morrow in the same position. He would have given anything to go back to the principal’s office in high school to avoid her wrath.

“What are you doing, Juice?” Gemma asked, in a tone that made him positive that if she could reach across the desk and shake him by the shoulders, she would.

“I’m working?” he rose the pitch of his voice at the end. “I just got you the keys you needed for later on today and-”

She put a hand up to silence him. “No, Juice. I meant with Lana. What was with that shit at the family dinner? Clay blew a gasket and I thought she was going to give Jax a black eye in the middle of our living room!”

“Oh,” Juice realized, dejected. “That.”

“Yeah, that.” Gemma wasn’t happy. “What are you doing, Juice?”

He didn’t exactly know how to answer. Sure, he was friends with Lana before, even when he was a prospect. They were the closest in age (well, until Half-Sack came along, but Lana didn’t seem too keen on him. How could he blame her when Sack had a tendency to drop his pants at any mention of the word ‘balls’?). Ever since the disaster that was Gemma’s last family dinner, he had blown Lana off and avoided her like the plague, as per Clay’s threatening request.

“We’re just friends, Gem. Besides, I got a girl I’m seeing in Nevada and she might be coming to Charming if things work out well enough.” Juice explained. “She was just a little lost and I was trying to help her through it. I was lost before I found the club and she just needs some guidance.”

“Guidance into your pants?” Gemma raised an eyebrow. “Did you know she has a crush on you?”

“Kinda?” Again, he didn’t really know how to answer. “She’s always been a little bit nervous when I talk to her, but I didn’t think too much of it.”

“She’s practically in love with you, Ortiz. You should get glasses if you’re really that damn blind.” Gemma shook her head in disapproval.

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, but she’s not too subtle about it. Luann barely knows you and she could smell the whole thing as soon as she walked into the room and saw her hanging all over you.” Gemma’s voice started to soften. Clay had probably talked to her about the whole thing. “She’s just a kid, Juice.”

“She’s nineteen, Gem. She’s not a kid.” Juice argued. “That’s probably why she’s so lost. Everyone’s treating her like a kid and she’s stuck.”

“Well, maybe Lana’s not a kid, but she’s too young to be your old lady or your late night booty call, or whatever fantasy you got going on in that perverted little head of yours.” Gemma’s voice was stern. As a sidenote, she added, “I know about the panties.”

Juice blushed and wished he could hide in the turned up collars of his Teller-Morrow uniform. “I didn’t. . . I don’t-”

“Relax.” Gemma ordered. “I really don’t give a shit. I’m here to talk to you calmly about Lana on Clay’s behalf because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself from blowing a hole straight through those lightning bolts.”

Juice’s fingers instinctively reached toward the tattoos on his head, picturing Clay with a shotgun just tearing a bloody hole with a big bullet straight through the ink. It wasn’t a pretty picture but it surely wasn’t the worst thing Clay had ever done with a gun. They wouldn’t even find his body if Clay cared enough. That would send Lana a message.

“Clay’s been her dad since Otto went to prison. Luann hasn’t been much of a mom. Never wanted kids. A little too self-centered.” Gemma shrugged. “Love the woman, but when is it time to give up sequin handbags and blue eyeshadow?”

“I imagine the porn studio wasn’t much of a place for a kid.” Juice assumed, but he said it slowly and carefully as to not insult Gemma’s best friend.

“No, it wasn’t.” Gemma agreed. “The clubhouse wasn’t much better, but at least she had Clay or Chibs to watch after her.”

“I’ve been staying away from her. Like Clay asked.” Juice assured Gemma, knowing it was in his best interest to just go along with whatever they said. “I don’t see why I can’t be friends with her. She needs someone who-”

Gemma cut him off with a venom that made Juice lean hard into the back of the chair. “You’re fucking her up even worse, Juice. You said you got some girl in Nevada you’re seeing, yet you’re here in Charming getting Lana’s hopes up.”

“I’m not getting her hopes up, I’m just-”

“You are, Juice! You make her feel wanted. And that’s what women need: to be wanted.” Gemma stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of him with a sense of urgency in her eyes.

There was a  motherly quality in her features made him miss his own mother in Queens. How was she doing? Was she still sick? His sister would have called if there was something really wrong. Right? She wouldn’t leave him in the dark.

“Are you even listening to me?” Gemma said, annoyed.

“Yeah, shit. Sorry.” Juice apologized. “Where were we at again?”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but it needs to be done.” Gemma said. “You don’t have to let her down easy, but you gotta let her down and don’t leave her with any false hope.”

“What are you saying I should do?” Juice asked, afraid he knew what she was getting at. Gemma knew how to be cruel without the use of fists (though he was sure she could put up her dukes when it came down to the nitty gritty).

Gemma grabbed Juice’s cheeks between her strong fingers. Her long, dark-blue acrylics dug into the the soft flesh of his face, forcing him to look her directly in her beady little crow’s eyes. If there was anyone in this world who could give Cruella de Vil a run for her money, it was Gemma Teller-Morrow. The only thing missing was a coat of skinned puppies hanging off her shoulders. Her eyes were black with poison that he felt creeping into his, rising goosebumps on his forearms. It was spooky, Gemma squeezing his cheeks in her hands. There was nowhere to run to.

“You gotta break her pretty little heart, Juan Carlos. You gotta break it hard and you gotta break it good.”

Fuck.

[thewolfisawake]

Bittersweet Misfortune for the ship thing

Who is a night owl:

Veritas. Can’t even say why but she is one. Although either could be up later because of work but if no obligations, it’s probably her that’s up.

Who is a morning person:

Kesil. It’s just been trained into him to be up early and does find that he has more time to do stuff. But he’s learned not to bother Veritas when he does because being on the receiving end of her glares isn’t pleasant.

Are they cuddlers:

Not really? They like lay on each other but they’re not really getting snuggly on each other. Just like, enjoy the other’s presence.

Who is the big spoon:

Kesil usually. They just fit together like that. He also tends to do this because Veritas is warm and he is leeching warmth from her.

Who is the little spoon:

Veritas usually because of the above.

What is their favourite sleeping position:

That is dependent on what kind of night it is. On a normal basis, they aren’t sleep close together. They actually sleep with backs facing each other. They are comfortable enough with each other that they don’t have to be on a constant touching basis. That and well, if one is coming in later, getting cozy is the quickest way to get shanked. This all changed when either is having a bad night and dependent on who is having the bad night they switch things up. When Kesil has a bad night, he sleeps with an arm slung around Veritas’ waist. Just so he knows that she is there and usually she’s still facing away from him and sure there’s her hair but it also is an intoxicating scent of just her and it comforts him. When it is Veritas, she sleeps against Kesil’s chest. It lets her hear his heartbeat and whatever rhythm it settles into lulls her back to sleep. He lacks the natural warmth but Kesil makes up with physical presence and it brings her away from the fear of him just being gone.

Who steals all the blankets:

Veritas. Kesil takes all her heat, she has to retain what little she keeps somehow.

What they wear to bed:

Kesil I see wearing pajama pants and may or may not have some t shirt on dependent on what the weather is like. Veritas on the other hand would probably have some like pajamas set. Like with shorts and shirt of some kind. Both of their clothes are kind of generic. Like could easily find in any local clothing store because they’d find it easy or something.

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:

I don’t even think Kesil could wear Veritas’ shirt so I’ll assume that Kesil would like her wearing his shirt. Particularly ones that barely pass for a dress for her. It’s a great view of her legs without getting too close, y’know?

Who falls asleep mid-conversation:

Veritas. She works more often than Kesil does and thus she’s probably more tired than he is. Conversations are usually a good way to wind down so it’s not impossible for either to fall asleep while talking. But because of thee job, Veritas has this happen more often. 

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:

Both. Veritas’ nightmares usually centers on Letum’s death, her parents’ abandonment, her captivity, and, since dating Kesil, any of those things happening to him. Kesil’s nightmares usually are over his loss of control and the few deaths that meant something to him. They resort to the sleep positions as mentioned above when they get startled by these nightmares. Sometimes if sleep isn’t possible, it’s a change of scenery with the other trailing with them.

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:

Okay so it wasn’t punched so much as nearly stabbed. And it was Veritas. This was back when they first started their living together and were like…trying to get around to sleeping in the same bed. Kesil had returned from assignment when Veritas had already gone to bed. Surprised by a presence in her bed, she nearly stabbed him with the knife under her pillow. It was a lot of cranky snark before anything could be decided. Since they haven’t had as much of an issue. 

Who can’t keep their hands to themself:

Kesil. How can he when Veritas is just so much fun to tease? He likes to play with her hair and test the sensitivity of her ears. Amongst other things that Veritas probably is like ‘honestly, Kesil.’

Who said “I love you” first:

Kesil. In the worst possible way. Because of his way of dealing with being in love, he tests the waters of if someone likes him too. This usually comes about as something of a confession and gauging their reactions. If it doesn’t seem good–which is about 8/10 times in Kesil’s head–he treats it at a joke so that it prevents that weirdness. Although when Kesil did this with Veritas, he was setting up to start that when Veritas said at the same time that she felt the same way. WhichSstunned Kesil from being able to follow up. 

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background:

If either believed they were safe enough, which neither ever do believe, then I’d say Kesil because he’s just a sap like that. Sadly neither really keep pics on their phone. At least not a phone they work off of. 

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror:

Veritas for some reason? Like I see this being her way of like warning Kesil or telling something he needs to do. Especially if this isn’t her first time warning him. 

Who buys the other cheesy gifts:

Both. They’re both kinda crap gift givers. Although I think Kesil’s leans more towards a romantic cheesy, which can be lost on Veritas. They are both practical but have found that being so with gifts isn’t wise so they try…something else. And that something else is usually a cheesy gift. 

Who initiated the first kiss:

Oh jeez, based off Veritas’ thoughts of when they had the first kiss, it makes me think of her initiating it. Mainly because it was fitting in like the scenarios described when she looked into the subject and it was a do or die moment. 

Who kisses the other awake in the morning:

Kesil. Although he’s learned to be strategic about it because Veritas is most certainly not a morning person and she will get fussy about him getting her up.

Who starts tickle fights:

Kesil. Veritas is just so sensitive compared to him that Kesil just tends to do it. 

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower:

Kesil. And this was after a failed attempt. Like Veritas didn’t know that was a thing couples did and didn’t take it well. So after Kesil telling her, yes, that’s a couple thing but if she’s not fine with it, then it doesn’t have to be their couple thing. And boy it took a while before that actually because a thing with them. 

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch:

Neither. Because of the nature of their jobs, that’s a liability more so than a cute gesture. Also, Kesil nor Veritas are likely to know where specifically the other is because secrecy and need to keep chances of something getting out as small as they can manage.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date:

Neither. Kesil was teasing and joking as always and Veritas was questioning if this was a date. 

Who kills/takes out the spiders:

Either. I don’t see either being afraid of spiders. They’re just something to deal with occasionally. 

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk:

When would they ever get drunk is the real question. They both like to maintain a sense of control with themselves. Also because of their species, it is difficult to get an elf or vampire drunk. But, Kesil doesn’t need to be drunk to proclaim his love for Veritas. He’ll do it on occasion to play up being that boyfriend as well as to embarrass the hell out of his girlfriend. And he’ll always say just so she can hear that he means every word and will say as many times as she needs to hear from him. Oh boy her face after that. Worth it. 

[spectrumscribe]

Your Home. (Our Home.)

Based on @ramskulls‘s awesome Green-thumbs AU, in exchange for some excellent artwork. Featuring police officer Casey and flower shop owner Leo, and a lot of cute boyfriend fluff. (also minor background relationships even more rare than theirs.)

AO3 version if preferred.

Summary:

Casey and Leo move in together. Accidentally. And without noticing.

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

It starts, probably speaking, with a forgotten jacket.

It’s still casual at that point for them; coffee shop dates, movie nights, the occasional bar trip with Leo’s siblings. They’re testing the waters still, Casey and Leo, to see where they really click, and where they might need to work on things. So they’ve been sticking to light stuff; things straight out of fourth grade. Hand-holding, knees touching, and rare and momentary kisses- things that are so sickeningly sweet, its tooth rotting. It took them months to reach this point, but each slow step of the way has been wonderful to experience.

Of course, there’s always a point that a relationship moves a level upwards. Neither of them noticed reaching that point, or going above it. Not until much later.

Leo’s hours in the shop are steady, regular. He knows his schedule and work hours like the back of his hand because he’s the one who made them. Owning a flower shop can be tiring at times, especially when customers get overly picky, or cause a fuss because their rose order wasn’t just right, but it’s worth it. Mostly because he loves his work, and partially because he just likes being in charge of his own job hours.

Casey on the other hand, his hours can go all over the place depending on what tough case is on his desk that week. He’s not exactly high up in the system yet, but he’s up there enough that he’s called into all sorts of messy situations. When it’s not stressful, his work is just plain tiring, and sometimes he wonders why on earth his younger self wanted to be a police officer so much. Most nights, or days, depending on the shift, he’s pretty tuckered out from either paperwork or dealing with plain old stupid people for too many hours.

Leo’s apartment is a nice place to retreat after the worst days or nights; the plants scattered throughout the apartment, combined with Leo’s preference for calming colors and soft fabrics, makes the whole of the home one big comfy space to crash. Which Casey definitely ends up doing fairly often now, since they’ve decided to make things a little more official between them.

Casey comes over, stays the night or day, and then heads out again afterwards; taking himself and his possessions with him out into the world until he returns. The cycle goes on like that uninterrupted for a good while, without much change beyond the days of the week.

Except eventually, after a long twelve hour daylight shift at work, and Casey had been too tired to wake back up after a movie night on the couch, he spends the night in Leo’s home… and forgets his jacket when he leaves for work the next day.

Leo doesn’t notice that the coat has been left behind until he’s making breakfast for himself, and finds an article of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong to him; draped over a chair in his small kitchen eat-in.

“Huh,” He mumbles, picking up the worn but loved jacket. “He must’ve forgotten it.”

Leo runs his thumbs along the collar of the jacket, feeling the softened threads from years of use. He briefly wonders if it smells like Casey.

Then, face heating, he sets it back onto the chair. He’ll give it back to his boyfriend later, whenever they have time for another date.

Casey doesn’t notice he’s forgotten his jacket either, until a stiff breeze blows by and he finds himself shivering for a moment.

--/--

“Did you steal my socks?”

Leo has to actually pause what he’s doing for a moment- searching for clean pants in his closet- to give Casey an incredulous look.

Casey gestures at his feet, which remain bare, despite his best attempts to locate his socks.

Leo continues giving Casey an incredulous look.

Casey stares back, then glances at Leo’s much larger feet, and makes an ‘ah’ face. “Oh. Wait.”

“…Casey.”

“It slipped my mind.”

“My feet… are at least three times the size of yours.”

“I’m half awake, give me a break.”

“Three times. The size.”

“Look, when I’m spending time with you, I’m not exactly giving your feet a ton of attention. That’s not my sort of thing.”

“Oh my god.”

Casey tosses a pillow from Leo’s bed at him. Leo keeps laughing regardless of the assault.

Casey, in the end, cannot locate his socks at all, and goes to work with his feet bare inside his shoes. There are spares to be found in his locker, but still. It’s the principal of the thing, being unable to find his own god damn socks.

He blames the fact that Leo looks unfairly cute when he’s either falling asleep or just waking up, so much so Casey couldn’t keep track of where his socks went. It’s a reasonable enough excuse for their disappearance, in his opinion.

Leo rediscovers the wayward socks later that week, when he’s doing his laundry and finds clothing that is most definitely not his own in the pile of whites.

He snorts, smiling to himself, and puts them through the wash. When they’re done and dried, he folds them up into a little ball, and sticks them inside the pocket of the jacket in his kitchen. The one Casey still hasn’t remembered to take home.

--/--

“I can’t go out tonight,” Casey sighs into his phone, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“What? How come?”

The sucking, gurgling sound comes from somewhere in his bathroom again, and Casey can’t even bring himself to look. “The pipes are going bezerk in my bathroom. I had the whole tub backed up with… you don’t even want to know.”

“Oh no, that’s- that really sucks, Casey. Can I do anything to help?”

Casey, for a moment, counts himself lucky for the hundredth time his boyfriend is so sweet. “Not really, but thanks. I’ve got a plumber on the way and… I think it’s draining. Kind of. Mostly I’m just hopin’ here I don’t have to replace the floor as well as clean my pipes.”

“Are you sure I can’t help? Do you need a place to stay for tonight, or however long it takes to get the repairs started? You know I’d be more than happy to host.”

Casey gets another whiff of the smell coming from his washroom, which has unfortunately gotten into the rest of his apartment as well, and wrinkles his nose. Yeah, he won’t be able to sleep with that in the air. He’ll need to find somewhere else to go for however long it takes to get things cleaned up. And as much as he doesn’t want to impose on Leo… spending the night with his boyfriend would be much better than spending it alone in a motel.

“You know, that sounds really nice. Want me to pick up dinner?”

He ends up packing an overnight bag and his uniform for the next day, and driving over to Leo’s apartment. The smell of flowers and hints of incense greet him as Leo opens the door, and after spending extended time in sewage hell, it’s a literal breath of fresh air.

Plus, Leo’s smile is always a sight for sore eyes, and Casey probably will never get tired of having it aimed his way.

They end up sprawled on Leo’s second-hand couch, eating pizza and garden salad. It’s a million times better than a lonely motel room would have been, and they talk late into the evening as they swap dinner for ice-cream desert.

Casey wakes up with a hard edge being pressed into his arm, and he finds that the tip of Leo’s shell is pressing on him, along with Leo’s skull. The turtle mutant had apparently fallen asleep pillowing his head on Casey’s arm, like Casey had fallen asleep with his legs tangled around Leo’s.

It sucks to move out of the cozy position, pins and needles in his fingers be damned, but Casey’s phone is chiming an alarm and work is just a short while from now.

He sighs long-sufferingly, and extracts himself from the warm covers of Leo’s bed gentle as he can. Leo makes a complaining noise at the loss of heat, but mumbles sleepily a “g’morning” anyways.

Casey brushes his teeth, gives himself a quick shave, combs his hair and gets into his uniform fast as possible. Early shift plus late night equals him having slept in a little and needing to rush to work. He throws what clothes he can see from yesterday into his bag, kisses a still sleep bleary Leo on the cheek, and blows out the door.

Leo rubs his eyes and yawns wide enough his jaw clicks. Sometimes, Casey is high energy in the oddest moments. Like the morning after a late night, despite that the effect is supposed to be contrary.

Ah well, he got a cheek kiss and a good night’s sleep with a warm person he enjoys being around. An early morning is an easy price to pay.

Leo gets up slowly, swinging his feet onto the cool floor of his room, and set to starting his own potentially hectic day.

As he’s leaving, he notices that Casey forgot his civilian shoes in the entryway.

Leo shakes his head, pushes the two shoes gently together and out of the way, and goes to work. His work in the shop begins sooner than usual, but he uses the extra time before opening to double check orders in the back room.

He sends Casey a reminder that he’s now forgotten jacket, his socks, and his shoes in Leo’s home. The reply doesn’t come until during lunch hour, when Casey replies with a text of oh shit I KNEW I forgot something!!

Leo rolls his eyes, tells Casey at least you’re cute enough to make up for the forgetfulness, and laughs when Casey shoots back okay how dare you say that to me, I’m Hot not cute.

A hot Mess more like.

Ah ha ha, funny. Hilarious.

:D

God dammnit you and your outdated emojis

;D

Stoppit that’s unfairly adorable.

;3c

You put that paw away right now

3’:

….i take it back, bring back the paw

:Dc

Omg

Casey ends up staying in Leo's apartment another two days afterwards, while his pipes are fixed and the vents air themselves out of sewage stink. It's definitely not an arrangement Casey complains about, or Leo, though Casey does end up forgetting his razor and toothbrush in Leo's bathroom when he goes back home.

--/--

After the fifth time Casey falls asleep in Leo’s apartment, too content and comfy to rouse himself, Leo suggests Casey just start keeping a spare uniform in his closet; to avoid the early morning rushes back to Casey’s own home to retrieve his work things.

“You sure?” Casey asks, glancing at Leo’s closet from their position on the bed. “I don’t wanna take up space you need.”

“My closet is plenty big enough,” Leo insists, paging through his latest thrift store book find. He’s partway through, and the plot line has just introduced a possible love interest. He’s not so sure how he feels about the lizard alien just yet, but she is described to have a large sword, and swords are always excellent. “Plus, that jacket will finally have company if you do.”

Casey mumbles, “oh yeah, that darn thing,” and goes back to crushing candy on his phone. They remain in their reclined spots against the headboard for a few more hours, reading or gaming, until it’s time to go meet Leo’s three siblings and April for a late evening Denny’s supper.

Casey does in fact bring a uniform with him next time he’s spending the night; hanging it neatly on the far end of the pole in Leo’s closet. The jacket is hung next to it, because no matter how many times Leo has reminded him, Casey still can’t remember to take it home, and at this point it seems like a lost cause. Better to just give it a new home.

Joining it soon enough is a spare pair of running shoes, for the nicer days when Leo likes to jog in the nearby park, a nice dress shirt, for when they’re invited to a spontaneous dinner party at Mikey’s place, and an assortment of forgotten CD’s, hairbands, socks, and toiletries.

Neither of them really notice it, beyond finding it suddenly easier to make plans or get out the door in the morning.

--/--

The person who brings the state of Leo’s apartment to his attention, is none other than their resident genius. Which isn’t that surprising, in all honesty.

It happens because, during one of Donnie’s breaks from his free-lance coding commissions, he trips over a pair of Casey’s shoes in Leo’s entryway.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me Casey was here,” Donnie says, stepping over the black work shoes. “I would’ve prepared myself if you had.”

Leo rolls his eyes and smiles, because Donnie has a vague hopefulness in his voice about a Jones appearance. Few people can bicker as passionately as Donnie can, and Casey happens to be one of those people. Leaving the two of them together for long periods of time tends to generate rants and good-natured arguments the stuff of legends.

“He’s out with his little sister today, Donnie. He’s not even available for a date until later this week. Hasn’t been at all lately, actually, since he got assigned to a stakeout case.”

“So why’re his work shoes in your apartment, then?”

“Because he sometimes leaves them here, when he falls asleep too late to go home.”

“…his running shoes, too?”

“That’s because we go running on the weekends, sometimes.”

Donnie glances away from the shoes, and focuses on the coatrack. “Leo, is that his favorite hat? I saw him wearing that just last week.”

Leo shrugs. “He probably forgot that, too.”

Donnie puts his hand under his chin, and hums. Leo watches Donnie’s perplexed expression for another moment, before turning away and going to find his wallet before they head to the movies.

When he finally finds it, buried under his couch cushions, he finds also that Donnie has disappeared into the washroom while he was waiting. Leo opts to use the extra moments wisely and go find candy to sneak into the theater.

When Donnie comes out, he’s giving Leo a Look.

“What,” Leo asks, tucking his Snickers bar into his satchel. “something on my face?”

“Hm, no,” Donnie says in a casual tone. “I was just wondering why there’s a pile of Casey’s clothes in there.”

Leo opens his mouth, and then closes it as his cheeks get hot. “Those could be anyone’s.”

“Unlikely,” Donnie replies, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “The only person any of us know who wears that sort of punk band shirts is Casey.”

“We know Irma,” Leo points out, because Langstein is more punk than even his boyfriend.

“Yes, but I’m sure you’d be much more fearful for your life if April’s girlfriend’s clothes were on the floor of your apartment.”

Good point. April wouldn’t show him mercy at all if Leo did something like that.

“Also,” Donnie continues, smirking. “last I checked, you were homoromantic, not hetero.”

Leo’s cheeks get hotter. “We had a shower, okay? Last time he was here. I guess I forgot to pick them up again. And before you make any jokes-”

“Sensual not sexual, yes, yes I know,” Donnie waves him off. “We’ve been over how your relationship works plenty of times while you were drunk. I don’t need another lecture.”

Were he not green and scaly, Leo would’ve been red. “Shut up, like you don’t enjoy talking in-depth about relationship dynamics.”

“My status as a secret romantic will remain a secret, and thus you speak of lies.”

“Donnie, that’s about as much of a secret as Mikey’s pansexuality was.”

“Shush. Let’s just go watch people fall in love or blow each other up, shall we? Great. Off we go.”

Donnie kicks Leo out of his own apartment, and Leo forgets the comments about Casey’s multitude of things in his home until later. Which is the point when Mikey drops his elbows onto the counter of Leo’s cash desk in his store, and asks brightly, “So, you two officially moving in together? Took you long enough.”

Leo stares at his brother for a moment, and then tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Casey? Moving in with you? It’s been like, half a year or something. Get on that shit, brother.”

It’s only ten in the morning, and Leo is fairly certain Mikey shouldn’t be making this little sense so soon in the day. “Again, huh??”

Mikey rolls his eyes. “Donnie told me Casey’s stuff is all over your house, I called Casey to ask about that, he says he keeps forgetting things but also that he’s got a ton of spare clothing stuffs hanging in your apartment, and then I called April to ask if that’s how it went for her and Irma and sort of Donnie-”

It’s too early in the day for this, and that’s something Leo thinks loudly as he looks at the ceiling despairingly.

“-and she agreed it sounded a lot like you two were moving in together, fi-nal-ly, which Donnie and Irma also agreed with, and then ta-da here I am taking a break from work to ask if it’s true or not,” Mikey finishes, all without taking a breath.  “So? You moving in together or what? Casey just made a lot of noises when I asked and hung up.”

After trying and failing to figure out what all those words together were meant to mean, Leo slowly puts his hands together in front of him, and says, “Mikey, shouldn’t you be at work helping Raph tattoo people?”

“No, I should be here asking about your love life,” Mikey replies straight faced.

“…I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Leo says helplessly. Mikey’s train of thought is very often too chaotic and confusing for him to follow, and this seems like one of those times. “We haven’t moved in together, at all.”

Mikey stares at him for a long, long moment, and then slowly smiles. “Ooooooh… so that’s how it is?”

Leo feels even more confused now. “How what is?”

Mikey winks at him. “Nothin’, bro. You’ll get it soon enough.”

“Mikey??”

His brother just laughs, reaches across the counter to pat Leo’s cheek, and then exits the shop in a swirl of energy and brightly colored tattoos. Leo is left standing at his shop counter, head whirling and confusion tangible.

His phone vibrates in his pants pocket right then, and he automatically takes it out, for lack of other reactions. The screen shows a series of typo ridden messages from Casey, all seeming to be him trying to phrase ‘hey did we accidentally move in together??’ without stating it obviously.

Leo puts a hand against his temple, and feels too tired for just a few hours of being awake.

--/--

“So like, should we… make it a real thing?” Casey asks later, hands curled around the tea Leo had made them both. They’re sitting in Leo’s small kitchen, feet touching under the table as they sort out their accidental semi-move in.

Leo curls his own hands tighter around his cup, feeling awkward. “I… don’t know? I mean, you spend a lot of time here already, and I have accumulated a fair amount of your possessions… do you want to? It’s a big step.”

Casey tilts his head one way, then the other, and finally makes a frustrated noise and runs his hands through his shaggy hair; mussing it all the way through. “God, I don’t know?? I love spending time with you, and your place is really nice- but jeeze, that’s a huge thing!”

Leo hums, nodding. He takes a slow sip of his tea, trying to calm his nerves. “Well… it worked out well enough for April, Irma, and Donnie. Maybe we should… try?”

Casey lets out a harsh breath, leaning away from the table and tapping his fingers on its surface. His expression looks the way Leo’s stomach feels. Finally, after what feels too long, he eventually says, “Okay, okay. Look, I love you, Leo, I really do, but I also like having my own space sometimes. Sharing a home all the time might make me kind of squirrely.”

Leo relaxes a fraction, smiling wryly. “No, I agree. I love you, too, but I do need some time alone now and again. I waited enough years to get out of my brothers’ space, after all.”

Casey relaxes in his chair at Leo’s words, smiling lopsidedly with clear relief. “Dunno how you did that, Leo. Your bros are great, but wow can they get rowdy.”

Leo laughs. “You know, I’m not entirely sure how I did it either.”

A beat of silence, filled with good warmth, and Casey asks, “So we keep doing what we’re doing, just for now?”

Leo thinks about it briefly, and smiles. It sounds about right for where they’re at, and he’s more than happy that they’re on the same page. “Yeah, I think that would be good. If and when we feel ready, maybe then?”

Casey grins back, and reaches across the table for Leo’s hand. “Sure, if and when we’re ready sounds good to me.”

Leo takes Casey’s hand, closing his three fingers around Casey’s five. Casey’s hands are always warm in his, like Leo’s are always gently cool in Casey’s. The opposition feels right, in a sense.

--/--

Casey keeps his separate apartment, for whenever they need a little space to themselves, and they continue on as they had been. Items he owns make their way into Leo’s home, and sometimes they don’t leave when Casey does. When Leo discovers the forgotten items, whether left on purpose or not, he simply smiles, and finds a new home for them in his.

The apartment is still largely Leo’s, but a good chunk of it does belong to Casey. Which is perfectly fine by Leo, since it sort of shows how they’re slowly meshing their lives together. Not completely yet, but one day.

Mikey clicks his tongue and says they move too slowly in his opinion. Leo reminds him that not everyone goes through partners and relationships as quick as his brother does, and receives, “Well yeah, but still. Slugs move faster than you guys,” in response. Raph just huffs and comments that he didn’t think they’d do it any other way. Leo nor Casey can figure out if he means that positively or negatively, and Raph supplies no further explanation than what he’s already given.

Donnie, April, and Irma exchange glances with each other, seem to shrug without actually doing so, and let the subject drop without ever saying aloud that they will. As they tend to do. Leo and Casey, privately of course, still think it’s them who have the confusing relationship here, not the two of them.

Casey’s jacket, the thing that likely started the accidental move in in the first place, has a proper home on a hook now; right in the entryway, along with some of Casey’s shoes. In Leo’s bedroom, a drawer of his dresser has spares of Casey’s shirts and pants. The bathroom has two cups with different toothbrushes and paste, and a razor kit tucked neatly in the corner of the counter.

More often than not, after a hard day or night, Casey will end up on Leo’s couch or bed. And more often than not, that’s where he’ll stay for the remainder of time before his next shift. When he does this, Leo never turns him away, and rarely suggests Casey go back to his own home.

It’s comfortable, living together and yet not. It’s not official, even though they themselves are official, but it’s more than enough for where they’re at.

[thearchdemongreatlydisapproves]

How to Introduce your best friend to your boyfriend for dummies

Your comments and likes gave me life, thank you so much! Your interest literally kickstarted me into a 5-days long writing haze, from which this fluff was born. This is the fastest I've ever came up with a story and then WROTE IT! The usual warnings. Un-betaed, all mistakes are still mine, do not own Marvel, etc. I was trying to post it as quickly as possible, so there might be some mistakes I've missed. I hope you enjoy it!

This is a sequel to this

Bucky just wanted for Tony and Steve to meet. He imagined numerous times how this could go, the two of the most important people in his live chatting a little, getting to know each other, preferably in a cozy hipster coffee that Tony would hate on a principle and Steve would love for the same reasons.

You have to be careful what you wish for, because it might just happen. Just not the way you imagined.

“Damn, Barnes, you went all out for lil’ ol’ me today. Is it a special occasion?” Clint gasped mockingly. “Did I miss our anniversary?”

Bucky didn’t grace him with a verbal answer and just flipped him off. He looked damn good so fuck ‘em. He closed the door in the Birdbrains face, but he could still hear his cackling outside. Why were his friends such assholes? OK, he WAS one of the asshole friends, but still.

“Don’t pay attention to Clint. I accidentally let him drink too much wine. It’ll wear off,” Steve called out from the kitchen. A few moments later, he appeared at the door separating their living room from the kitchen. His cheeks an the tips of his ear were a rosy red colour, which could only mean that he had been drinking the cooking wine along with Clint. Steve was nearly impossible to outdrink and Bucky could count on the fingers on one hand the times Steve had actually gotten drunk. Nevertheless, his pale Irish skin was always sure way to know if he was “cooking” with wine. The blond stared at him and he could see the moment the switch flipped in Steve’s mind.

“Wow, Bucky, how did you do that?”

He hadn’t actually done anything, truly, it was all Tony’s handwork. Bucky usually didn’t have the patience to do anything with his hair, except tying it out of his face, when he was working. But, apparently, Tony could braid. Like, he could braid really good. He had told him, while putting up and away the top section of his hair for later, about the wife of his butler and the main cook for the family, Anna, who had started all of this by showing little restless Tony how to make a classic braid. And Tony had took up on it like fish to water.

Now, Bucky was spotting a big, weird and tangly braid, that somehow looked awesome, on the top his head, with a few smaller- Dutch braids, was it?- on his temples and hanging behind his ears. Both Tony and Natasha had been calling him Lagertha the whole time after that, while Tony was braiding the Russian’s long, red hair in a “Cersei” look. In the end, both he and Natasha were both rocking the hairstyles, thank you very much.

Knowing that your current date was bros with your ex was a little awkward. Receiving your ex’s blessing to date their “cinnamon roll” was even more so (a little sweet too, but no one needed to know he thought that.)

“Tony did it. Do you like it?” the bait was on and he could see some brain activity flashing through the blond’s eyes. It was time for him to tell Steve about his amazing boyfriend of almost three and a half months.

“Who’s Tony?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed.

Deep breaths, Barnes. He really hoped this could work.

“Alright, punk, sit your ass down. I’m gonna tell you a story.” Bucky waited until Steve joined him on the couch and started, “Remember that time I made pancakes at 3 in the morning and I had to run to the store? Well, I didn’t tell you the whole thing.”

“So... let me get this straight. You, in all your sleep – deprived glory, hooked up with a fella who fell down with a shelf, using only cheesy pick up lines, which let me say, we’re atrocious. Am I right?”

“In a nutshell? Yeah.”

“Oh my God, jerk, how do you always get in situations like this?” Steve groaned out, falling backwards on the couch cushion in a dramatic manner.

“In my defence, I didn’t realize that woman was hitting on me,” he really didn’t think Steve needed to know about what happened after he left them to get to know each other. The lady had a quite a few reactions when she saw his arm. He might personally hunt her down and Bucky did not want the drama. “Do you feel like going down memory lane too? The old lady at Walmart?”

He saw the pillow coming and he totally deserved it, but everything was fair in love and war. Even handsy old bats.

“Goddammit Buck, that was not funny at all! It was scarring for life! I can’t look at Mrs. Butterworth anymore!”

“Aww, don’t worry, Peggy will kiss it better.”

Like on command, Steve’s face went a beautiful tomato shade. The blond shoved him lightly, which made Bucky shove back, which led to them tackling each other with muffled laughter. After a few moment they sat back down on their respective seats, breathless and reminding themselves that they were grown–ass adults and not childish 5-year-olds.

And then, the awkward silence settled.

“...Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

And there it was, the hundred buck question. Bucky knew it was coming, but it still made him feel so unsure.

“Because I was afraid... It just felt too good to be true,” Bucky breathed in deeply and looked back at Steve. “I’m… not the same since the accident. You know it, I know it, Hell, even Clint knows it, because he's a snooping asshole. I can’t do this whole love ‘em and leave ‘em anymore. Fuck, I can’t even speak to other human beings most of the days. And I know sometimes you wish I hadn’t changed so much since the accident,” Steve looked like a kicked puppy at this part and he was physically holding back from saying something. Nevertheless, he kept quiet, which was good enough.

“I understand, sometimes I want it just as much as you, but it can’t happen. I see how you perk up every time I seem even mildly interested in someone. But nothing good ever comes out of it and I’m never ready enough.” Bucky smiled lightly when he thought about the bright beautiful man he was dating, “With Tony it’s easy. It feels right.”

Suddenly, the heavy silence that followed his words felt tense, oppressive. Steve was staring at him with an unreadable expression and furrowed brows. Just when Bucky had started twitching with discomfort Steve asked, “How does he make you feel?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate, “Alive.” The blond nodded for him to keep going. “Tony’s so bright, Stevie, like the sun and there’s so much life in him. He will cross the street to pet a stray dog or cat. And Tony is brilliant, like Einstein level of brilliant, I think he graduated MIT with honours.”

He was getting off – track and Steve was already smirking knowingly. “You’re so whipped, Buck.”

Ok.

That he did not expect. In fact, he could feel his cheeks warming up and Steve’s smiled even harder.

“Fuck off, punk!” he exclaimed.

“No, it’s cute. I’ve never seen you so heart-eyed. I bet if Tony flutters his eyelashes at you he can make you do anything.”

“I mean, he does have pretty eyelashes, but not as pretty as his ass-”

Steve threw another pillow at him. What was he, a friggin’ child?

“You’re ruining the moment, jerk!”

“What moment? There was no moment!”

“Yes, there was,” Steve singsonged. Bucky flipped him off.

“So... When do I get to meet Tony?” the blond asked. Yep, it was time for Steve to meet his boyfriend.

It was definitely not the time for Steve to meet Tony.

Steve shouldn’t have been back so soon and yet here he was. With a fucking frozen pack of beans pressed to his face on top of it all.

And Tony? Tony was making breakfast which was kind of hilarious, because he was in the home of the biggest and tallest troll of them all. Currently, he was trying to reach for the sugar and it really wasn’t working.

Bucky let himself admire Tony in all of his sleep – soft glory and unruly thick hair.

His boyfriend could buy any fashion store he wanted, but if there was one thing Bucky learned about him, it was that he was the biggest clothes stealer out there. It was his way of claiming his humans, he was sure. And Bucky gladly let him get away with it, because the sight of Tony in his over-sized hoodies did funny things to him. In fact, right now he was wearing one of the aforementioned hoodies and a pair of rolled up sweatpants, his feet bare against the floor. Steve, the asshole, wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement behind the frozen pack.

“The Hell?” he asked eloquently.

“’Morning, sweet cheeks, I’m making you food so you better appreciate it. It must be illegal for someone to be awake that early,” Tony turned around to mock – glare at him before blowing him a kiss and reaching for the eggs, which were conveniently put on the highest shelf. “I think it was mentioned in the Declaration of Independency or something.”

This was Tony for you, before noon.

Bucky lifted his eyebrows, “You should ask Steve about that, doll. He memorised it word by word.”

The blond turned to glare back at him and gracefully saluted him with a certain finger. He quietly sat at the table, staring at his best friend and boyfriend quietly talking. Talking! What the fuck?

“So... what’s up with the shiner? And why are you back so early?” he finally asked Steve and grinned. “I thought you were going to stay at Peggy’s for a little longer, you know.”

“Fuck off, jerk, I was actually helping her with the repairs!” It never got old how Steve’s whole face will go red at even the mention of the amazing (and terrifyingly competent) British woman.

“Do you actually believe she would need help for that? She’s probably ten times better at fixing her sink than you, punk.”

Bucky laughed when his best friend glared at him, before promptly turning red as well, because Tony had pecked him on the check, while shoving a mug of fresh coffee in his hands. “Cut him some slack, babe, he’s one of the slow – blooming,” the shorter brunet smiled devilishly before chugging back his own cup of scalding coffee, goddamnit Tony!

“Your boyfriend has a mean swing too,” Steve mumbled still hiding his red face.

“What?”

“In my defence, he snuck up on me!”

“I didn’t! I was loud enough, you were just half - asleep!”

Wait, what?

“Tony, did you hit Steve?” he finally asked.

“Yes, yes he did.” There were no bad feelings in Steve’s tone and his eyes twinkled with humour. “He was drowsily trudging around the kitchen in your clothes with a pan in hand and I tapped him on the shoulder to ask him if he was Tony. Apparently, he hadn’t heard me coming in so he just jumped and fuckin’ yowled before hitting me square in the face with a pan.”

“Fuck off, Rogers, I thought you were a thief or- or an axe murderer, you just appeared from thin air!”

“You fuckin’ yowled-”

“Language!”

“How the fuck did you even yowl? I’ve never though I will hear such a noise comin’ from a human!”

“Shove it, Rogers!”

Bucky burst out laughing, because this? This was unbelievable. He had called Tony yesterday because he was feeling like shit and his boyfriend had appeared in his apartment, chattering about how shitty the door locks were and how the three boxes of pizza he was carrying were melting the skin on his hands. They put on LOTR trilogy and spent the night cuddling. He never thought this would lead here.

Bucky looped an arm around his boyfriend and drew him in for a deep kiss. But, of course, give Tony an inch and he’ll take a mile, quickly turning the mostly chaste kiss into a filthy one that definitely wasn’t for Steve’s eyes. Who was still there, coughing away to remind them of his presence.

Spoilsport.

Tony stepped, looking dishevelled. “Spoilsport,” he pouted, repeating Bucky’s thought.

“It is my pleasure,” the blond looked at Bucky.

“Just so you know, I’m not kissing you too.”

God, he loved those assholes.

[fallen029]

Chill

The house was still and silent, other for the soft, hushed strums of an acoustic and random subdued half-truths of a man who'd been gone for far too long from a woman who was far too good for that sorta treatment. She was no fool and knew that the tales he were spinning, of his massive adventure across Fiore for an SS-Class job weren't without their fallacies, but had few problems with this. He'd been gone for more than half a year and short of him bringing home a bastard, there was little that would have elicited an opposite reaction than the one she was having.

They'd missed one another.

He'd dressed, after their reunion, but only to slip on a pair of boxers once more while she sat nude, other than his purple shirt, draped over her shoulders, and he wondered a few times if the cool surface of the guitar bothered her thigh. Winter was upon them, but neither felt the need to get under the blankets, too comfortable how they were lying currently.

Occasionally, their eyes would meet and she'd laugh slightly while he'd smirk, but other than that, his eyes drifted from the ceiling to shut as hers fell to the bed lazily. It was enough, then, to be near one another, in that moment. He'd tell her in the course of days, honestly, all that he needed to about his journey and eventually she'd share with him all she'd done. Truthfully.

"Need a new house," he muttered eventually too her as Mira took more to plucking. "One with a fireplace. In our bedroom. Keep cozy."

"Sounds nice."

"You wan' it? Dragon can get it for you."

"Mmmm."

"Go on some more jobs. Earn us some more jewels." His head lulled to the side then, away from her, as he stared in the dim light of the candles she had on the dresser and bedside tables over at the window, watching the snow drift down in the soft light of the moon. "In the spring. No time soon. Too cold. I got frozen up in a cave, while I was gone. Nearly died."

"Mmmm."

"Missed my baby. Thought about my baby." One of his hands came to fall over his left pec, still watching the snow outside. Grinning to himself, he whispered, "Can't die before we make a baby. A real one."

"You're the one always gone."

"I'm saving up before I make my baby. Not no deadbeat. My baby? Gonna have the world. My woman too." He was still smiling, his teeth showing through a bit then. "That's what you'll be then. Once I have a real baby, you'll become my woman. Full time."

"When am I your woman and when am I your baby now?" She just kept strumming. "I never learned the difference."

Instead of answering (as there was no answer), Laxus only whispered, "Mirajane?"

"Hmmm?"

"I miss your music. When I'm gone. Recording it on my headphones isn't ever enough."

"Maybe I could come with you."

"Don't tease me."

"Bring my guitar. Be your cheerleader."

"I'm about to need a new pair of boxers."

"Not sure the implication-"

"I'm gonna jizz in them."

"Go back to being quiet. Please."

But it was said with a giggle and he only turned his head once more, so he could stare at the ceiling. "Just miss you."

"I know."

"Loyal. Eight months is a long time. I fuck around on my baby?" Snort. "Nah. Never. Not my demon."

"Not your demon."

"Not my demon." Laxus grinned then, but it was sleepily and as if in a haze. Softly, he told the woman, "You and I work so well together, you know."

"I know."

"I would never do this with another woman. Never," he sighed. "Lay around. Talk. When you finish with your guitar, snuggle you up real tight."

"And what will I have done to deserve such an honor?'

"Been mine. The only. Only one that matters. Fuck."

"Hmmm?"

"I ain't snuggled with another woman the way I do you since...since my mother.'

Her strumming faltered a bit, but Laxus only hummed.

"She liked for me to sleep in bed with her, you know, when...when Ivan was gone."

"Oh." Mira's notes changed then, as she strummed two minors in a row. "We, you know, lived in a tiny little house. I shared with Elf and Lisanna. Sometimes if Elf was kicking too much in his sleep, I might go try to crawl into their bed, but it wasn't much more comfortable. My father wasn't exactly a tiny guy, you know."

"My mother liked for me to be close to her. I was always so...sick."

"I know. It's cute." Mirajane giggled. "I'd let my kids snuggle with me in bed."

"Mmmm." He was done then, it seemed, with that, and only said, "Play that song."

"What song?"

"That song."

"Which-"

"You know."

She knew.

He wanted the final song. The last song she always played. Not the one she'd close sets with, up at the bar. The one she'd play him before bed. The lyrics were soft and Laxus knew them by heart. It wasn't anything relevant to him. Just one of Mira's typical songs. Bubbly nonsense.

But he felt a connection to the song.

It had been the one that she was playing one night as he was up at the bar, getting drunk, that time when they wound up going home together. It was what he slurred to her, the words, on the walk to his place and Mira, ever sober, only giggled politely. Because she wasn't drunk. Nope. She was charged with getting Laxus, the only person left after closing, home.

Which she did. Walked him all the way to his apartment. Helped him in. And, when he rushed straight to the toilet, she sat with him the whole night.

Yep.

That first night they spent together wasn't sexual in any way. It was just Mirajane, with him, all night, caring for him through his dangerous closeness to alcohol poisoning.

It wasn't all pretty. And she surely had no reason to think she needed to aid him through this. The two were cordial in those days, at best, but certainly no more than guild mates. Distant guild mates. Not wipe your face with a cool towel when you vomit guild mates.

He didn't recall a lot of that night, honestly. But he did remember someone there with him. Someone nice. Who sang to him. Rubbed his stomach. Kept him hydrated with water, regardless of the fact he tried to refuse it at every turn.

In the morning, when he awoke, how shocking it was to him to realize it was Mirajane Strauss in his bathroom, showering.

She'd only apologized as he blinked dumbly at her after she got out, having transformed into a new dress. She claimed she had to get to work and needed a shower, after the night before. And Laxus, quite dumbly, asked if they'd slept together, to which Mira laughed, came closer to gently pat his stomach, before leaving him standing there, hungover, and confused.

Eventually, of course, she explained the night to him in full and, rather embarrassed over all this, Laxus mumbled out something that could be construed as an apology while the woman only giggled in her special way and told him if he took her out to dinner, they could call themselves even.

Which he did.

And enjoyed himself.

Of course, he couldn't admit this to himself immediately. No way. He went away on a job. Hummed the final song of hers that he couldn't get out of his head. Picked up a woman in some bar far away from Magnolia, trying to fuck and forget Mira. That was a thing, right? After being with someone, you need to be with someone else to truly get over them. But hell, he hadn't even fucked with Mira yet.

Not to mention it didn't work.

He just… He wanted to hang out with her again.

So he went back to town and offered to take her out again. Which Mirajane found extremely odd. She'd enjoyed herself as well, of course, but she enjoyed herself in most situations. Still, there was no way that she was going to turn the man down (it was always a miracle to see him interact with those outside the Thunder Legion, so no way was she going to diminish the obvious steps at socialization she assumed he was taking) and boy, was Mira in for a shock when after a very nice dinner where he listened to her gab on about the hall (pretended to, actually, but rather well for a man who hardly ever faked something such as that) which he paid for, the man tried to shove his tongue down her throat on the walk home.

She shoved him off, of course, surprised for a moment, but Laxus seemed even more so, having assumed Mirajane knew what they were doing. That it was a date. That the first was kind of a date too. And they didn't need a third because they'd known one another for years and, therefore, could just go ahead and fuck already.

He assumed Mira ascribed to the three date thing purely because she seemed like the type. Typically, he was a one and done kinda guy, but he could put on airs. Pretend.

Anything to get the woman out of his mind.

Until...until that moment, when she wouldn't cooperate. And he had to kinda mutter under his breath about how he though they were on a date and, you know, he was just testing the waters is all. Mira still only stared.

It was summertime and nice out though so when Mira eventually spoke, it was an offer for him to take her to the park, for them to walk around for a bit, if he'd like.

Which wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it wasn't like he could say no and risk her rushing off to Fairy Tail to tell them all what a perv he was, so of course Laxus agreed.

She told him about how she didn't date often and that she wasn't really sure what his intention was. If it was as some sort of payback for her caring for him, there was no need to worry about that; she'd have done it for anyone. And if it was for some sort of silly hooking up reason, don't waste his time; she didn't enjoy those sorts of games either. Lastly, as they continued their slow trek down the paved path in the park, she informed him that if he honestly wished to go on a date, then he could ask her in the near future and they could go from there. But only if he were truly interested. If not, she was just as content to pretend that the evenings events had not occurred.

Which wasn't getting turned down really, but also wasn't being received either. He walked her back to her house, at least, because he felt as if it were the right thing to do.

Another three weeks would pass, in which Mirajane would assume he decided against asking her out and Laxus tried actually to forget.

But it was impossible.

So, after lot of heavy consideration, Laxus took Mirajane out on what she called their first date.

Which he considered their third.

But...he could pretend for her sake.

He would get pretty good at it as their relationship deepened.

The first time he actually slept with Mirajane was about a month following that. They'd gone on one other date, which him taking a job in between, and then, when he was back, she wanted to hang out and one thing led to another and…

Elfman and Lisanna were out. On a job. Together. Mira had the night off, as Kinana could handle the place when it was slow (and boy, was it that night) and invited the newly returned Laxus over to her house, where she'd make him dinner, she claimed, which she did. A nice one. But then, most everything the woman made was nice.

Eventually, of course, they wound up in her room, but once all that was over and Laxus found himself, while sated, not the least bit over his demonic sickness, he muttered out a request while lounging on her bed, nude, one leg hanging off the edge.

He wanted her to play him a song. On her guitar. And Mira, breath just as gone and just as wine infused, only giggled softly. She called him drunk, but he only muttered that it had been stuck in his head, one specific song, for far too long, and he couldn't wait another year or so for her finally have a long enough break up at the hall to actually get on stage.

Compliance was in Mirajane's nature and it was through laughter that she watched him drift off before the final chords were strummed.

It wasn't hard for that to become the norm.

"I know?" she repeated then, as they laid in bed with one another, on the eve of another one of his returns, but in a far more stable relationship with one another. "Dragon?"

"You know," he sighed. "Demon."

He didn't fall asleep during it this time, but it took a bit of effort on his part, as he honestly had to fight it. Laxus wanted to hear it, but he also wanted to lie with one another for a bit, following it. The reward was sweet for his consciousness upon her completion as the she-devil only laid her guitar beside the bed, not leaving it herself, before falling more into it, to lie correctly with the slayer.

Neither whispered words of admiration or love, but the need wasn't felt anyhow. That wasn't this thing, really. In fact, in the morning, when she'd get up for work and he'd stay in bed for most the day before heading out to locate the Thunder Legion, the two wouldn't even speak with one another. Nor up at the hall, as he had no reason to place an order, for Mirajane knew it by heart and would bring him exactly what he wished for upon his entrance, and he'd never dream of bothering her with petty things while she was working.

She would never do it to him either, should he be out on a job, and he held the same respect for her during her shifts.

To someone that didn't know the two and their relationship, they might even assume there wasn't one, just observing them up the guild hall. Mira had even giggled to him, sometimes, at home about how someone up at the hall attempted to ask her out, only for her to snicker and inform them that she was very much so taken.

Which never served to not stroke the slayer's ego.

As they lay next to one another, however, Laxus did tug her close to him. She didn't sleep on his chest (that was too uncomfortable for the both of them), but he didn't mind the feeling of her breath and hair tickling his side while she always loved being as close as possible.

He watched out the window for a bit, entranced wind whipping flakes of snow all around.

Man, he was glad to be back home.

She had a big fluffy blanket for them to snuggle up under and Mira's head disappeared under it, though that was only because she was resting so low on the bed. His hand rested above her head, toying with her hair as he tried to drift off.

"Next time," he yawned softly, still carefully watching the gathering snow, "I won't be gone for so long."

"It's alright, dragon."

"No, it's not. Miss you. When I'm gone."

"I miss you too." She pressed her cool lips to his side beneath the blanket, causing his fingers to still from their toying for a moment. "But you miss going on adventures when you're here with me. And I think I'm getting a bit spoiled off your S-Class jewels."

"You do know how to spend."

"You can't take it with you to the other side, you know."

"Not with your filthy demon claws in it, I can't. And gods never die."

"Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Neither do demons." She let out a low moan. "From what I hear."

His fingers went back to tangling themselves up in her white locks. "Guess we're pretty great together, huh?"

"The greatest."

"Mmmm," he sighed. "Demon?"

"Wha'?"

"I'mma take you to dinner. Tomorrow. Tonight. Whatever. If you can get off."

"Think I have enough pull up at the bar to swing that."

"Nice dinner. Promise."

"'kay."

"Mmmm. You sleep yet?"

"Jus' 'bout."

"Wanna hear my story again? Till you drift off?"

Giggling softly, she whispered, "Please."

His own eyes shutting then, he took a deep breath before whispering, "I's in a cave and the blizzard had hit it's highest point..."