#tried to run yesterday and my leggings kept falling down. so much that i rage quit. i think i ran 5 minutes in total

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[theoriginaltortuga]

Responsibility, Rage, and Recent Resurrection (Part 3)

A/N: I am working my hardest to have this complete before the semester starts, if there are more typos or some parts are wonky, please allow

Pairing: Connor x ilitw MC (Devon Hernandez)

Tagging (by request): @gutsfics

Wordcount: 2,045

Connor winced as Devon fell back onto the mattress. For the fifth time. By now, he could stand on his own, it was taking a step that wasn’t going well.

Devon’s face was blotchy and his hair was drenched with sweat as he turned into the mattress to screech. “I hate this so fucking much!”

“I know, sweetheart.” Connor sat on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on his back. Devon shouldn’t be this exhausted from standing and trying to move. Probably. Connor wasn’t entirely sure. He was drawing on that time he had broken his leg as a kid and everything Andy had said on the rare occasions Connor drove him to and from physiotherapy. 

Andy or Jocelyn would know better. Then again, they’d both call him a moron for sticking Devon in a car and driving him seven hours away from anyone else who might be able to help. When he thought about it like that it sounded bad. 

“Hey.” Devon’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He had sat up and was smiling softly. “Don’t be all frowny. I’ve only been awake for a day. It’ll take a while for everything to go back to normal.” He didn’t seem to believe his own words.

Connor scrubbed at his face. Devon needed him to be strong and steady, not having his mind yo-yoing on his decisions every five seconds. “Yeah, you’re right.”

They’d only left Westchester yesterday and he already felt like things were falling apart. Devon couldn’t walk, only ate because Connor made him, and was legally dead. They needed help, but the only people who could, were more likely to take Devon away from him and right back into danger and the Power.

The only reason he’d done all of this was to protect Devon, but what if Devon didn’t want to be protected? What if they did go back and Devon chose to stay? Not just in Westchester but with the Power. Connor was done with that life, so if Devon wasn’t, what did that mean for them?

“Ready to watch me fall on my ass again?” Devon said cheerfully as he tried to push himself to his feet. 

Connor stood front of him to let Devon balance himself on Connor’s shoulders. Devon beamed down at him even with exhaustion in his eyes. That smile still made Connor feel off balance. Holding Devon in his arms was something he’d dreamed about for years only to be left heartbroken when the sun came up. He wondered if Devon would always feel like a dream.

“Connor? If I take a step I’m gonna walk into you.”

He smiled up at him. “Maybe you should. I think it’s a good time for a break anyway.”

Devon raised an eyebrow. “It’s been less than an hour.”

“Exactly.”

He laughed and leaned into Connor, letting them sway for a moment before Devon pulled back. He kept his eyes on Connor’s chest, something he’d been doing a lot, looking and touching over Connor’s heart. Maybe it was comforting? “There was something I wanted to ask you.” He took a deep breath. “You mentioned a ritual–”

Connor stepped back and Devon windmilled, trying to keep his balance. Connor should care about that, should try and help, but instead he moved until his back was pressed against the door.

“What the hell?” Devon had balanced, but his legs were trembling. He’d fall if he didn’t sit, but by the scowl on his face it didn’t seem like he was going to.

“You don’t need to know.” 

“The fuck I don’t! Especially if it makes you act like this.”

“Why do you want to know? You want to leave me and run back to what I’m trying to protect us from?” Connor couldn’t believe Devon would turn his back on him like this. Right when they finally had a shot at a future together. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“What?” The scowl melted away in favor of confusion. “Of course I’m not going to leave you! Connor, I love you. I want to be with you no matter what, but you can’t kidnap me to San Francisco and expect me not to ask questions.”

Connor ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it. It was good to hear how Devon felt, but he’d only gotten involved the first–second?--time because of his friends. If he knew exactly what they were facing, they would take priority. He loved Devon’s loyalty and desire to help his friends but it was very counterproductive at the moment.

“Connor, please. Don’t you trust me?”

He knew when he was being played, but there was an inkling of real doubt in Devon’s voice. “Fine.” Connor sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Devon to do the same. “The guy that killed my mom, Adrian Kim, did it because of a ritual for power…” Connor explained the whole story slowly, examining Devon’s expression for any reason to stop, but there was none. Devon’s face was perfectly blank right through the end.

They sat in silence. The wall clock ticked and the sounds of other motel guests starting their days filtered into the room. 

“Do you get it? Leaving was the only way I could protect you.”

Devon didn’t meet his eyes. His head was bowed, his hair a curtain between them. Blood rushed behind Connor’s ears. Devon had to understand. They needed to be on the same page.

“I’ve never really been the one protected before.” He looked up with a watery smile. “I mean, it’s not like anyone asked me to, but I’ve always been the protector. It’s nice to be on the other side of it. Thank you.”

Connor didn’t know if he believed him. It seemed too easy.  “I’m happy to protect you for the rest of our lives. Nothing in Westchester is our problem anymore.”

“Except the funerals.”

Connor froze. “What?”

“Only if they die.” Devon sat closer and leaned against him. “Our friends are strong and there’s even better odds with everyone you mentioned, but you know, if. Then that would be our problem.”

“If. That won't happen. Everyone will be fine.”

"That's what I thought before I died." Connor caught Devon as he slumped against him, unconscious again. Why did it feel like that had been on purpose?

---

Devon waited until they heard Connor’s boots hitting the motel stairs and then dove for the duffle bag. Connor had kept looking at it every few minutes, so the phone had to be there. Unless it wasn’t and they had to move to plan D.

Early that morning, he had listened with panic growing in his chest as Connor told him about the evil ritual that was happening at a fucking carnival because their lives weren’t enough of a horror movie, apparently. It was beyond tempting to just roll with what Connor said about running and protecting and forgetting that Westchester even existed, but Devon was self-aware enough to know that the right thing to do, usually wasn’t what he wanted to do, which was why he had to do it anyway.

Also, Connor acting like a jackass and nearly letting them eat shit because Devon asked a question he didn't like was probably a bad sign.

They found the phone shut down at the bottom of the bag and turned it on. Way too many missed call notifications and–a passcode. Of course there was a passcode. Could nothing in their life be easy? 

It was fine. Just a slight complication. IPhones gave you six chances before you were shut out. So six digits and six tries. It was fine.

091298, Connor’s birthday. Incorrect. 

020500, Stacy’s birthday. Incorrect. 

123456. Incorrect and honestly they weren’t sure why they’d even tried it. 

266667, Connor in digit form. Incorrect. 

Two more tries. It was hopeless. He didn’t know enough about Connor or his life to guess at his password. Devon was going to try the next two, fail horribly, Connor would notice and freak out, and they would end up even further from Westchester—Wait. 

Further from Westchester. In the car. Connor’s car. The car that was specifically a C-A-M-A-R-O. 

There was no way. 

226276, Camaro in digit form. Correct. 

He was in. 

Devon laughed helplessly. He was maybe-dating a fucking dork. 

All of Devon’s friends were in the contacts and recent missed calls, along with names that were familiar but unrecognizable. Really though, there was only one person they could call.

The phone didn’t even get a chance to ring before– “Connor Benjamin Green, if you’re not dead, I’m gonna make you wish you were!” Stacy shrieked down the line.

Devon yanked the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. “His middle name is Benjamin?”

Stacy went quiet. The clock ticked on and Devon watched the door, trying to hold back a smile. 

“...Devon?”

“Speaking,” He said with a wide grin.

“Oh my god. I-It’s been–” She laughed and it sounded teary. “Wait, where’s Connor?”

“At the store. Hotel shampoo wasn’t really cutting it. Mostly I just needed time to call you.”

He could hear her take a deep breath, all business once more. “Right. Is he okay?”

“For a given definition. Nothing bleeding or broken, but he is acting seriously strange. Aggressive and pushy about little things."

“Yeah, we have might have an idea about that. Before you guys disappeared, he was acting the same. I just thought it was…other stuff. What about you? Are you okay?”

“For a given definition.”

“Devon.”

“Traumatized as fuck, I can barely walk, chewing is a task made in hell, and I keep fainting every few minutes, but that’s kind of on purpose.”

“What?”

“So! If it’s not ‘other stuff’ then why did Connor kidnap me in the dead of night?”

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that. The people Connor’s been working with have been dealing with these things called Horrors. People who have been infected by corrupted Power through water and are turning into hulking rage monsters with gray skin and glowing blue eyes.”

“Don’t forget claws, fangs, and a taste for human flesh.” Ava cut in. “Good to hear your voice, Devon.” 

“Better to hear yours.” He wished he could sit and talk to them forever. It was weird to think that he actually could when this was all over. “Is it like when Jane possessed people?”

“Not exactly. I wasn’t kidding about the taste for human flesh, but the bigger worry is the homicidal tendencies, a non-negotiable symptom as far as we know.”

“Is there a cure?” Despite his efforts, the roots of the weeds didn’t seem to be going anywhere. The best they’d done was cut them down to half of their original size, but who knew how long that would last.

“Lucas and my coven are working on it. Nothing final yet, but soon. For Connor, we might not need it.” Ava sounded distant as she called out, “Power kid!”

The voices went too quiet and then–”Hello?” A deep, raspy, monotone voice that was vaguely familiar.

“Power kid, I presume.”

“Vesper, actually. I cleansed the spots that had the worst of the corruption and it worked. I haven’t tried to cleanse a person, but it shouldn't be that different. I just need to get close enough without dying, only thing, I’m not sure how well my Power will work outside of Westchester.”

“Our best bet,” Stacy said, “is to get Connor back to Westchester and heal him here. It’d be easier if he’d just come back himself, but we’re running out of time. How far are you guys?”

Right. Time to get back to reality. San Francisco. That was all he had to say and they could figure out the rest from there. “Actually, I’ve been healing him, or trying to.” Why did he say that?

“Is it working?” Vesper asked.

No, not really. “Yes, definitely. I can probably get him back to Westchester by tomorrow.” Why did he say that?

Ava sounded unsure. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a good way to tell when someone’s about to snap. It might already be too late.”

Devon was a lying liar who lied and had also been on the phone for a good 40 minutes. “It’s not too late. I need to put the phone back, but I promise I’ll see you guys tomorrow by 11:59.”

Stacy tried to say something else, but Devon hung up and replaced the phone without a trace of evidence. They climbed back into bed just as Connor’s boots hit the stairs again. 

What the hell had they just done?

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

-------

"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

[sparkledfirecracker]

Deeds For The Big Screen

I see writing as a form of creative artwork with everyone having its own liking or preference to it.

Do not interact if you are uncomfortable with any of the given warnings or if you are a minor. 

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, proceed to read with care. Warnings have been up and mentioned, if I missed any please feel free to let me know. 

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, explicit language, sexwork, porn industry, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, oral receiving (f), swearing

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You’re taking power into your hands when your actors don’t seem to do their job and are wasting expensive production time.

Word count: 3006

 A/N: This might be a little rusty, I haven’t done this in a while, but some creators have inspired me to pick up writing again! Fairly new to Tumblr, despite having an account for years and having done zero with it. Apparently me dreaming about different story ideas has become a thing now. So bear with me here. As said; if I missed any warnings please feel free to let me know.

@punani​ ’s ‘The Fluffer’ was inspiration for the chosen work field. So thank you for writing that magnificent piece.

English is not my native language; my grammar mistakes are purely my own. Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated, I won’t bite unless you’re being rude.

I do not consent to have my work copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been reposted without my permission or consent. By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old!!!

Please do feel free to comment, like or reblog.

ENJOY!!!

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

Deeds For The Big Screen

Irritation bubbling underneath your annoyed expression, your lips tightly pressed together. Fingernails tapping aggressively on the armrests of your director’s chair. Your legs crossed, bouncing with frustration at the sight in front of you. It seemed liked the actors onsite were on a mission to make everyone’s life on set hell. Your hands grabbing the armrests your knuckles white from the intense grip of the edges of your chair.

You were a visionaire, adultery was your passion, you had been in the business for year before starting your own company. Focusing on the female friendlier porn demand had paid of well for you, your company was your pride and you thrived on the success. You ran a tight ship, time was money and currently both actors were wasting every second of it. The current creative project was not being envisioned at all. It had been meticulously drawn out on a storyboard, it seemed like everything that had been discussed and rehearsed was thrown out the window.

You let out an annoyed huff, it had been hours on end anything between action and cut. Your million-dollar superstar was propped on his elbows towering over the fragile body underneath him. His hips franticly pumping in and out of the actress underneath him, who was clawing her nails into his skin desperately. Was he really the problem or was it the useless woman caged underneath him. Her super loud moans that probably could be heard at the other side of the world and the quantity of clawing at his skin.

 “CUT!!!” you yelled and everyone in the production stopped, heavy sighs heard across the studio. Your hands rubbed your face slightly not wanting to yell or lose control of the raging thoughts running through your mind.

“What’s wrong this time?” your most prized possession asked, the annoyance clearly dripping of his tone. He stood up facing you, his hands falling to his hips, sticking out his chest while his thick muscle stood proud against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but take in the sight, his cock was red and he was painfully hard. You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, trying to refocus on your thoughts.

“Alright let me make myself very clear here. The crew is TIRED and I am tired of fucking repeating myself” you took another deep breath as you felt anger rising “was I not clear enough when we had a table read yesterday and when we rehearsed this morning?” your eyes switching between the actors. No response “An answer would be nice, because that storyboard on the wall contains every movement of where body parts go during every fucking scene”

“Get the fuck out Y/N, you know storyboards only contains the major outlines of a grand story being told, it is different when you are pumping in and out of a body you know. You don’t always get to choose where a hand, leg or cock lands”

“Ari, we are in the god forsaken porn industry, that thick throbbing dick better end up in the fucking dripping vagina, between her lips or even in that nice and tight puckered hole” you could hear a few supressed snickers from the crew. Ari just kept staring you down “Right now all I see is stiffness, no passion, no fire and absolutely nothing that was on the fucking board or script”

“Whatever Y/N” Ari huffed, you rolled your eyes breaking the tension that was clearly building between you and Ari. You turned your gaze to Edie, who just sat there uncomfortably.

“Edie, can you just tone down on the moans, I know this is your first gig and a step up from the amateur adultery films you have done, but we are not in the cheap kind of porn. This is exclusive, sensual and soft sex. We make porn for the ladies and if it happens that men love it too so be it-” you clapped your hands together trying to get through to the actors in front of you “Also ease up on your facial expressions too they are just too much and stop clawing at Ari, we are not feral wolves in the outskirts of woodsy valley…” you pointed at her, the hostility evident in your voice, she just nodded your way she almost looked too scared to speak. Your attention turned to Ari, just by looking at him you knew he wouldn’t be able to take a lot more of your antics “-And for you mister, I need more open posture. We want to see those muscles work underneath that toned skin of yours. Flex them a little, you want the person watching this to drool from their mouths while their vaginas or arseholes are begging for your majestic cock. Yes, we can do this all rough and tough, but with this project we want fire, passion and mind-blowing sex. Understood?”

Both pornstars nodded your way and you sat back down in your chair. The actors taking their spots again, you raised your hand, cues being called across the room.

“ACTION!” Edie tried her utter best to contain her excessive sounds, but she looked like she was about to take a dump “CUT!”

“Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ari yelled, jumping of the small platform, grabbing his robe from the floor, storming your way while putting on his robe, you got off your chair.

“Is it really that hard to do what I am asking? Edie you look like you are about to take a dump right in front of the camera” you lost control of the anger that had been boiling inside of you. Ari bumped into you, almost knocking you down, it must have been on purpose as you could sense his anger “where the fuck do you think you are going?” he spun on his heels

“I have been edged for hours on end, I need some form of release and it looks like our director is not going to let us get any release for a few more hours” Ari spat your way

“GET BACK HERE!!” you definitely lost control, watching Ari on a mission to march out of the studio “ARI I SAID GET BACK HERE”

“I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING A DOG!!!”

“YOU ARE MY FUCKING TOP DOLLAR DOG, SO YOU BETTER GET THE FUCK BACK BEFORE I FIRE YOU MYSELF” it was true, Ari was your million-dollar star, your company couldn’t have grown without him. He had been there from the beginning, you had him to thank for the success of your company and in return he had you to thank for his stardom.

Your words had made Ari stop in his tracks and turn around, the temperature in the room increasing quickly. You had started to doubt if the room had been that hot the entire time or if it was the arousal creeping through your veins caused by Ari’s deep angered gaze.

He charged your way his finger pointing at you and his mouth was moving, but your hearing seemed to have vanished. You contemplated if you should just show them what you meant or just call it a day. Things were getting heated and the crew was already exhausted enough. Your thoughts interrupted as your mouth started to speak.

“Do I really have to do everything around here?” you muttered under your breath “Edie get off the sunbed and put your robe on” she complied to your order, getting of the stage and putting on her silk robe. You took a moment to analyse your thought, to see if the voice inside your head would protest of what you were contemplating. Nothing came to mind, so instead you unbuttoned your sundress quickly before regretting your decision “Last attempt to film this guys, start rolling. Ari off with the robe, we start from the beginning. Edie take notes” you ordered around the room. Your sundress and underwear falling off your frame piling up next to your director’s chair.

“What are you doing baby girl?” Ari whispered in your ear as you walked backwards his hands holding your hips guiding you towards the double sunbed. His anger seemed to have disappeared and replaced with intrigue.

“Showing you what I want, but mostly taking what I need right now” you replied, he quirked an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his face in approval “Let’s give them the show they want”

“The show you want” Ari chuckled as he corrected you, before narrowing his eyes a little “The big boss in action, I like it…” Ari whispered as he took in your naked body “I like it a lit” His confident spoken words made you a little insecure, but you hid it well trying to hold your nerves together.

You climbed on the sunbed laying back, your eyes wandered over Ari’s toned chest, his cock aching, your pussy throbbing. You licked your lips and the muscles in your core tightened with the exciting thought of him filling you up to the brim in a matter of minutes, you being at his complete mercy.

“ACTION!” you yelled

Ari crawled on top of you, your hands roamed freely over his arms and chest, his lips crashing on yours briefly before moving on to your neck and your upper torso. Your hands finding their way onto his shoulders, caressing the bare skin. You arched your back at the delight feeling when he sucked on your nipples, a low moan left your lips. Ari’s hands cradling your frame as he peppered kisses further south.

Your eyes following him, he looked back at you through his long lashes as two of his fingers tease your entrance, running gently through your folds. One thing was for sure, you were hot and bothered, all because of the eye candy encaging you in his porn play. He dipped two fingers in your aching core and pumped three times before they stilled inside you. His face coming up to meet yours, his eyes darkened and stole another passionate driven kiss.

His fingers starting pumping you faster earning a few unexpected deep moans. Your lips parting, your lust blown eyes were completely taken by the current moment. Your mind completely forgetting everything was being recorded. Ari’s fingers left your soaking cunt as he lowered his head and settled himself between your legs.

His mouth sucked your clit, you took in a sharp breath. His tongue firmly stroked downward on your slit, enough pressure for a controlled yet obscene moan to escape you. His tongue entered your dripping hole before returning his attention back to your clit. Ari’s fingers rejected as your vaginal muscle had tightened from the attention your clit was receiving. His mouth eased off and he pushed his fingers inside you, your cunt accepting, sucking them in.

The pleasure was almost too much, your hands caressing your upper body finding your breasts. With a feathered touch you rubbed your index fingers over your nipples, biting your bottom lip at the pleasure. Your touch made your nipples erect, the sensation spreading like wildfire through your entire body. Ari increased his pace and your moans and whimpers became more frequent, but in a more wanting and loving way.

Your back started to arch up and you were about to cum, when Ari stopped all his actions. Your eyes shot fully open to protest, but he shushed you by placing two of his fingers in your mouth allowing you a moment to taste yourself before retracting them. You watched him pump his hard cock with his hand, before he gripped your hips as his member slowly pushes down in your sopping cunt.

“Big enough for you princess” Ari grunted as he pushed fully into you.

“Y-Yes” the response was short and simple, your brain not functioning anymore when the pleasure had taken over from the thoughts. His tempo made your eyes roll backwards, your hips meeting his rhythm as he held a firm grasp on your hips helping and guiding you up and down on him. Without warning Ari stopped and flipped you over. A fistful of hair grabbed pulling you back, his grasp wasn’t harsh and only intensified your lustful awakening.

His left arm snaking around your waist finding your right boob, giving it a sinful squeeze, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He held your back close to his chest while his lips sucked pleasure marks on your neck and breathing heavily into your ear, whispering nothing but obscenities to you. Your arms lifted up and your hands fisted his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp a little. He growled in your ear, you repeated your actions and he gave your hip a single firm squeeze.

His cock slowly being dragged in and out of you, your walls coating his thick veined cock. The squelching noises pulled from the juices being pulled from between your legs. Ari’s hands running freely over your skin setting it on fire. You felt fucked out and your orgasm was building rapidly. 

Ari must have felt it as his hips started bucking up into you even faster, making is his mission to finish you. Your moans of sin becoming frequent again, Ari’s wandering hand slid in between your folds, rubbing your clit gently, pushing you even closer to the edge. One of your hands held onto his wrist holding it in the pleasurable place whilst the other placed on the nape of his neck, fingers gripping the hairs at the bottom.

Your orgasm washed over you as Ari let you ride out your high before pulling you off, laying you flat on the double sunbed. As you tried to calm your breathing he straddled you underneath him, pumping his member faster. The white strings of sin faltering out of his cock, you leaned up on your elbows and opened your mouth while he decorated your face and chest. 

Licking your lips with his salty cum, you swallowed and stared back at Ari who seemed to enjoy the fucked out sight in front of him. When he had finished squirting his load on you, he cradled your head in his large hands, his thumbs running over your lips before leaning in to steal one last fiery kiss. You separated from the kiss and kept staring each other in the eyes for what felt like hours.

“Happy boss?” Ari questioned still holding your head gently as you nodded your head

“CUT!” you yelled, Ari climbed off of you and helped you up.

“WOW, that was amazing” Edie clapped being stunned by the scene that just had taken place.

“Thanks, hopefully a great lesson for you on what to do next time” you spoke, she smiled widely back at you when you walked towards your chair, picking up your clothes from the floor “Well done everyone, I think we all need a break and we’ll continue with fresh eyes tomorrow” a relieved cheer was heard “I’m off to have a shower, since I have become a Picasso art piece” you started walking towards the dressing room

“Worth millions” Ari spoke after you, you raised your middle finger at him without looking back at him. His loud laughter filled the room.

 -----------------------------

You walked out of the building, rolling your eyes at Ari as he leaned against your car, one leg propped up on the tire, his arms folded and a cocky grin beaming back at you.

“There she is, my million dollar star” Ari clapped his hands before raising up his arms slightly and bowing down “I bless the ground you walk on peaches”

“Oh shut it Ari” you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassment bubbling underneath your skin. It was ridiculous, but you felt a little insecure “Hopefully good enough for what I want to get done” you continued walking towards the car, halting in front of Ari. 

“Hopefully?” Ari raised an eyebrow “Peaches you were wonderful, you are in my top 3 ‘the best fucking sex I ever had’ so I guess for a retired pornstar you still possess your magic” you shoved him a little and his head fell back letting out a laugh “Don’t be embarrassed, I liked it a lot” his hands found their way on your waist pulling you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you Ari, but can you move out of the way, I want to go home, I am little worn out” “Must be because of my majestic cock” he laughed

“Don’t flatter yourself, it doesn’t suit you” you giggled “Why are you still here, I thought you left a while ago”

“Couldn’t stay away from you peaches, since you performed so well today” Ari wiggled his eyebrows

“Had to show you guys somehow, you were costing me a fortune” you pointed out, opening the car door, tossing your bag on the backseat.

“Would it make a difference if it was done on purpose?” Ari questioned, climbing into the driver’s seat. Your mouth had fallen open from the shock and your brain scrambled for words and phrases to throw Ari’s way. You opened the door on the passenger’s side and got into the seat.

“Are you telling me you put on an entire show so you could get your dick wet on the clock?”

“Had to fuck the brat right out of you somehow” his cocky grin beamed back at you. You knew he was taunting you if it wasn’t for his sunglasses shielding his eyes “You have always been such a perfectionist, so I knew you would fall for my well thought out trap”

“Well next time ask me to eat a snickers instead” you rolled your eyes as Ari started the car.

“Might need another round of fucking the brat out of you peaches” Ari grabbed your hand, pulling the intertwined hold to his lips and placing a kiss on top. Your cheeks flushed with heat at the thought of how intense your fuck session had been and what kind of ways you both would fuck one another later.

YIKES, that was a true adventure!!!

[bakugohoex]

I'm so happy for you! Congrats for 1k! 🥳🥳🥳 I saw there was one fluff prompt left, number 10 I believe. If it's still available could you do it with Porco?

“we were never just friends”

pairing: porco galliard x female reader

cw: fluff, language, a lot on intimate moments that make me sad that I’m alone

word count: 2700+

a/n: please im sorry that im still working on my 1k event when i have a 2k event going on at the same time, but i wrote this fic in a sprint thing on discord and surprisingly I think i did okay with it.

summary: in which Porco relives moments of his love for you until he finally gets what he had always wanted

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Porco didn’t understand the first time he met you would be as children; he saw those tender eyes and that soft sunflower dress, and he couldn’t help but fall in love. Maybe it was a childish dream or some misconception that this was the love that he had so often seen between his parents. But he knew from that very moment seeing you with your hair up in pigtails playing in the sand he had fallen in love.

His eyes stayed focused on you, his shorts showing the grazed knees he had had from sliding along the grass against his mothers will. But the sound of his screams as he ran towards the sandcastle you had made, and the crying as a consequence of the fallen castle made him realise this wasn’t a real way to introduce himself. He looked between those damp tears and the sand that speckled across your chest and knees and he knew this moment would be ingrained into both of your minds for the rest of your life.

He knelt in front of your timid body, eyes tearing up as you looked like you wanted to chuck sand at him. Your mother hadn’t noticed the tears as they were silent, but as Porco brought his hand out, moving his small fingers to touch your cheek he felt the cold tears stream down your face. It wasn’t his fault, or maybe it was, but at the time he felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

You looked up to meet the blonde, his dinosaur t shirt and beige coloured shorts made him look like any other child. You don’t know what got into you too stare at his childish figure. Maybe it was because you were a child yourself but seeing this random child apologise for kicking down your hard work and effort. It brought some relief, “it’s okay.”

He wiped away the tears as he spoke once more, “I’ll help you build another one.”

You nodded in an instant as he grabbed the plastic mould and started digging for sand. Maybe it was the start of a new friendship he didn’t know at the time but here he was lying on his bed reliving those childish memories that he had had with his only love.

It had been years since that incident, a decade even but you still remained close to him, still had him at arm’s length. He was the boy who had spent years pining over you whilst you always just seemed out of his grasp. He stared once more at your text message, once again speaking about your date with Reiner.

All he could do was send good luck for it, what else could he do? You were his best friend, key word being friend and nothing else, nothing more. He could only just wish to see you happy and if it meant with Reiner who was he to suppress your happiness.

He couldn’t help but admire his lock screen, the love and admiration he had for you, maybe it was because of the many years he had spent following you around like a lost puppy, but the way his eyes would almost widen each time you spoke. He looked down through his camera roll, he couldn’t help but relive all these memories he had had with you.

The first time you both went into high school together, the first day that you both had found other friends. Met new people and happened to form your own group, Porco knew everybody knew of his little crush on you. Who wouldn’t, the way you’d both walk to and from school or the way he’d always be on call with you to just talk about anything.

Maybe this was the sign, the push to admit his feelings but he never did. It had been a stupid party; his camera being filled with that night months ago. The night were you both went to Eren’s stupid party, the night where he had found you in the arms of another.

“I hate Eren.” You had muttered to the boy.

He scoffed as his arm rested loosely against your shoulder, “who doesn’t, he put me in a headlock in PE once.”

“And you didn’t fight back, aww I’m proud of you Poc.” He rolled his eyes at the nickname, he hated it, but he knew that from your lips any name of his would sound so pretty. “I heard Reiner’s going though.”

Ever since that stupid Maths class with Reiner you almost seemed infatuated with the boy. Porco hated it and knew he’d have to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night. As you both walked through the doors, already seeing drunk teenagers and couples making out. Porco became jealous, he might have hated the idea of ever having his first kiss with you in a rowdy party. But the way he wasn’t even able to keep you by his side, to show you off to Reiner and the others because you really meant more than the world to him.

Your eyes scoured around the room and in a matter of seconds you faced the brute of a blond, he hated how you left his side. Hated how Reiner beckoned you forward as if you were his, you weren’t you were Porco’s. Porco shook his head as he stared at the two of you before going off to find anybody except the two of you.

He didn’t know what went into his head to drink as much as he had that night. He stared at the photos on his phones, many drunk ones of him falling about but he might not have remembered the night that well. But a memory would forever remain ingrained in his head.

The shift of his weight from the alcohol and the way his eyes landed on you. His sweet childhood friend on Reiner’s lap, his Y/n, the girl with the sundress now draped across Reiner’s lap, hands around his neck as your lips had been attached to his own. The couples Porco had seen, had envied for not being the two of you had all divulged into you and Reiner.

His arms against your waist, your hands tugging at his blond hair, Porco eyes flashed red. He wanted to run up and take you away, grab your arm and leave but he didn’t. He looked at the two of you and left. Walked out of the house, telling Mikasa to let you stay the night and then left, he couldn’t face you, couldn’t walk home with you and see your smudged lipstick, see your dishevelled hair.

Porco’s eyes stayed firm at the multitude of texts that came through, you had sent him voice notes after voice notes about what you were wearing and the plan for the night. Now here he was listening to them and replying half an hour later, you were probably out there, probably with him, kissing him, holding him, loving him.

He chucked his phone to the ground as he stared at the many photos of the two of you and your other friends. Every moment with you always felt like a whole other world, maybe you felt the same way or maybe you didn’t. But he would always keep it hidden, he knew better than to let his emotions fuel his rage. Because in the end all he wanted was for you to be happy and if it meant giving up his own, who cared.

The sound of his doorbell going off made him sign it was probably his mothers friend. He stayed staring at the memories, he could have been out right now. Could be with Zeke or Pieck or anybody but no he was in his bed mopping per usual, his mothers voice boomed through the house as she shouted his name.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” He groaned as he swung his legs off the bed, his eyes straight down the stairs. He didn’t know who it could be, possibly Bertholdt wanting to borrow his switch again or Colt asking for Marcel as well.

He rubbed at his eyes as he was finally met with you. In that pretty dress you only wore for special occasions, those bright eyes that brimmed with tears and that soft smile you tried to put on. His mother left as you moved towards the stairs, both unable to speak as you walked up to his room, the room you had spent countless nights sleeping at. The room where you both spoke of your dreams and aspirations, the room where he had fallen even more in love with you.

You sat on his bed refusing to meet his eye as he leant against his door, “what happened?” His phone remained chucked to the ground, the lock screen of the both of you flashed as the group chat seemed to be buzzing about something. He was about to walk over and check it but your croaky voice stopped him.

“Don’t…please.” He looked at your figure, the way you look vulnerable and almost nimble, he moved to your body, hands against your shoulder as you leant into his own. Tears finally falling freely onto his shirt, “I…I thought he liked me Porco.”

“What did Reiner do?”

The whisper and tension around the room was low but he kept you close by his arms, “we…we were supposed to hang out and when I met up with him he was all over Historia.”

Porco’s eyes flashed in rage, Reiner had no right to do that to you. To his girl and at that moment all he could think about was the hurting you must feel, he may have hated Reiner from the beginning but seeing you with tears from an undeserving man broke him the most. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You both stayed in each other’s arms, his lingering touches and eyes that filled with so much love as he kept a hold of you. His perfect girl that would never be his, “don’t leave me Poc.” It had been a whisper but the way his hand caressed your hair, the illuminating moon cascading through the background as it lit up the room. Every memory and past version of yourself, you looked out seeing the picture of the two of you from years ago, “that was the day I fell in love with you.”

Porco stayed silent, he didn’t think you understood what you had said, pointing at the two of you at the treehouse his father had made for you at 13, but he remembered that day as if it was yesterday.

“I can't believe he actually made it for you both,” you got all giddy as you climbed the ladder, Marcel already up there, you helped Porco up as you looked inside the treehouse.

Porco shrugged as you both looked around the place, the disposable camera your mother had given you around your neck as you stayed firm in your want to take pictures of the world. He watched you take pictures of the different parts of the treehouse, one of Marcel sleeping as he finally showed you what he had brought.

“We can put our names in the tree, make the world know we were here.” Your eyes widened as Porco wrote his initials with a plus underneath and you wrote your own. The way he told you to keep your eyes closed as he engrained around your names a heart, you had always thought it was a friendship heard but wanted it to be a heart of love. A sign of new beginnings of a relationship that could possibly occur. “Now we’re together forever.”

You hugged the boy as the two of you spent the rest of the day in the treehouse, his mother coming and taking the exact picture of the two of you that was now plastered against Porco’s wall.

It was beautiful and you didn’t mean to confess your own truths, Porco stared back at you, his eyes widening as he grabbed your wrist. “Y/n…”

“Forget what I said.” You muttered as you looked back out of the window, more and more memories each one holding moments of how deep your love ran for one another. The first time you both went swimming and Porco helped you into the deep end or the many trips out to the beach where you and Porco would run into the sea.

Childhood friends meant nothing when all you both really wanted to be was lovers. And as his firm grip stayed on you, his eyes filled with wonder and desire looked back at you with lust and love. All he could see was love, a type of love that had only ever been shown for you because he knew there would never be anybody else.

“It’s you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I hope what I heard was true, I pray it was because Reiner doesn’t deserve you Y/n, I…I need you.” The last part was nothing more than a murmur but as you finally looked into his eyes, his pretty smile and pretty face. He knew you knew; he knew that there was something more than that, “we were never just friends.”

With those final words, reality hit the two of you both were never just friends. He gave you a look, his eyes filled with lust as he looked down at your lips, hands moving to hold onto your waist. His love, his girl in his arms for the first time, “I love…”

You trailed off as his lips met your own, the tears having stopped and your hands cupping his cheeks. His soft full of life cheeks filled with admiration and adoration at the girl that had finally become his, he loved you, he did and now he knew that you loved him.

The kiss was soft, you both stayed in one another’s arms as his soft lips kept at a boundary but as soon as a moan slipped from your mouth his tongue had divulged inside. The heat from the past decade all coming to this one kiss, one look at you and he finally saw his love, the truth behind his sadness.

He had hated seeing you kiss Reiner, he had and now he would put that hatred and replace it with the love he had for you. He put you down onto his bed, his hands around your waist as he kept his mouth on your own. Kissing you with such passion and drive that his parents could probably hear the squeak of the bed.

He looked down at you, having finally let you go, arms to your side as he looked at his love. “I love you.” He knew he was repeating his love, but he wanted you to know, wanted you to never forget that his love knew no bounds that he would forever be yours and hopefully you’d forever be his.

He was about to kiss you once more, but you spoke just as his lips gilded against one another, the hush of it all, the way his breath fanned against your lips. You licked your lips and Porco could almost taste your saliva as he waited to hear your words. Waited to see the woman he loved speak truths about their future with one another, your hands wrapped around his neck making sure to not bring him to another kiss.

Instead to see his eyes widen at the proximity of another, the way he kneeled between your legs, spreading your dress apart, the way his hands stayed firm against your head. An intimate moment for the two souls who had finally become one, “I want you, you…you deserve to know the truth.”

He hesitated but nodded waiting for a reply, he didn’t care if whatever your next words ruined any moment the two of you were about to have. He just wanted to hear you say your wants and needs for him one last time.

“Reiner…he was a distraction…I thought you liked Pieck so…so I let you pursue that.” You whispered, he hated thinking that you thought he liked Pieck, the way you went to Reiner as an alternative when the two of you could have just spoken about your feelings.

But at this moment he didn’t care, he had you in his bed, in his arms and the past meant nothing to him when he knew there was a future for you both. “I’ve loved you since I kicked your sandcastle Y/n and I’ll love you for the years to come”

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[starks-hero]

His Last Vow

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Request: Hey! I just adore your writings, thank you for existing. ❤ I watched Sherlock 4x01 yesterday, and I just can't get over what happened there. I'm truly afraid what will happen next... So I thought if you could write a fic about this episode. I mean something like this: after all what happened in the Aquarium, S. goes home to Y/N, his girlfriend, totally fallen apart, trembling, then he starts like... and destroying everything at home, and Y/N tries to soothe him, crying, fluff etc. THANK YOUUU <3 - anonymous

Summary: You can't stop Sherlock from falling apart, but you can certainly help pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 1,725

Warnings: lots of angst with some compensating fluff, a very brief mention of Sherlock's drug use, Spoilers for 4x01

“Come on, pick up!” You yelled as Sherlock's phone once again went straight to voicemail. You'd been trying to get through to him for over an hour and your worry was slowly melting into frustration.

It had been a few hours since he'd left the flat to ‘think without any distractions’, but you didn't take into account that he'd be gone this long. You knew this case meant more to him than most, especially considering it concerned Mary, which made you all the more worried.

You tried calling him once more, but when you were greeted with the same blunt voicemail, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Grabbing your coat, you pulled Mary's number up on your phone. You attempted to calm your anxious mind by telling yourself that Sherlock had probably just dragged John off on some side case. And if anyone was going to know where the boys were, it was Mary.

Just as you pressed ‘call’ and opened the door to leave, you were greeted by the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs. You sighed in relief.

“Where have you been? I was starting to get-,” Your voice died down in your throat when Sherlock entered the flat.

His chest was heaving and his body trembled, his cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes resembled those of a scared child. He looked completely distraught.

“Sherlock?” Your voice was timid as he entered the flat. You studied him carefully before reaching out for his hand. You stopped a few inches short. Sherlock's gloved hand, along with the once white sleeve of his shirt was now stained in a dark crimson red. Your heart fell out of your chest when you realised what it was. Blood.

“Sherlock,” your voice wavered. “What happened?”

You didn't receive a reply. Sherlock's back was to you, but you could still clearly see his struggle to breathe as his shoulders tensed. He pulled off his gloves slowly, hands shaking.

The room was deathly quiet. And then it wasn't. Whatever had happened, whatever Sherlock was feeling, whatever he had pent up inside came out all at once in a blind rage.

One sweep of his arm sent several books and heaps of paper flying from the desk, he brought his fist down on the tables top so hard you swore you heard the wood splinter. Several more books were pulled from the bookcase and not even the sentiment Sherlock held for his skull was enough to stop the youngest Holmes from picking up the human remain and chucking it across the room. His rage continued to the kitchen as the table was completely overturned, any unfortunate glass or cutlery that had been left on its surface shattering into ceramic shards as they met the cold floor. One of the cupboards was almost completely taken off its hinges. And through all of this, Sherlock cried.

You watched on in shock, frozen to the spot as you watched Sherlock destroy anything he came in contact with. No matter how much your mind yelled at you to do something, to move and comfort the man you loved, the horror kept you glued to the spot. Whatever had happened, had destroyed Sherlock entirely. You weren't entirely sure you'd be capable of dealing with it.

You were pulled from your frozen state as Sherlock turned his anger to the flat door. His fist connected with the wood. Once, twice, over and over. The timber was splintering and Sherlock's knuckles were bloodied, but he didn't stop. He just kept going, his strangled shouts tearing at your heart.

“Sherlock,” You approached him slowly but with unfaltering trust. Despite the violence you'd just witnessed unfold in the flat, you weren't afraid of Sherlock, not for a second.

“Hey, hey-,” Your hand brushed his shoulder but it didn't lessen his assault on the door. “Sherlock, stop it.”

Blood was flowing freely from his knuckles down his fingers in bright crimson lines.

“Stop it!”

Grabbing hold of his shoulder and forcibly pulling him away from the abused piece of wood. He struggled against you, attempting to push you away, but despite being taller and stronger than you, you managed to hold your ground against him. (The bloodied hand, sprained wrist and potentially broken fingers weren't playing in his favour.)

“Let me go!” Sherlock's tone was heart-wrenching, his voice hoarse from the shouting he'd done moments before. His vocal cords were spent. “Let me go!” He continued to struggle against you. His voice no longer resembled that of the stoic, detective you'd fallen for, but of a terrified child that had witnessed something they shouldn't have. “Let me-”

Sherlock's harrowing shouts broke into distressed sobs. He stopped fighting and allowed himself to collapse against you. The tears dampened your skin as Sherlock buried himself into the crook of your neck.

Sherlock's legs gave way and he was sent to the ground, you went with him. He clutched onto you for dear life, fingers clutching at your shoulders so tightly you could feel his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you so closely against him it was beginning to constrict your ability to breathe. But you didn't complain. You just kept running your hand through his hair and doing your best to soothe him.

You had never seen him in such a state. In fact, you'd never seen anyone in such a state. Everything you'd been through with Sherlock, the cases, the drugs, all of it and you'd never seen an outburst that could even begin to compare to the magnitude of the one you'd just witnessed.

“Sherlock,” you managed after a while, your own voice trembling slightly. “What happened?”

His voice wavered, sobs wracking his body. You ran your hand through his hair again.

“Hey, look at me,” your hand gently caressed his cheek and wiped away stray tears, your thumb catching them as they continued to fall. “It's okay, whatever happened, it's okay. Just talk to me, Sherlock.” You masterfully hid your worry beneath a gentle tone as you urged him to continue.

Sherlock swallowed down a rising sob and managed to choke out a somewhat coherent answer.

“Mary,” he cried. “She's dead.”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as the world shattered around you at the revelation. When you finally exhaled, reality hit.

Sherlock broke again and this time, you broke with him.

You cried into Sherlock's shoulder. You cried for Mary, your best friend. You cried for John, who'd lost his wife and for little Rosie, who'd lost her mother. You weren't quite sure just how long you spent weeping, all you could hear was the same two words playing on repeat in your mind. ‘She’s dead’.

You were only pulled back to what was left of your reality by the sound of Sherlock's distraught voice.

“It's-It's my fault!” Sherlock cried and you swore you'd never heard anyone sound so broken. “I killed her.”

“Sherlock,” you tried, expression falling when he flinched away from your touch. “Sherlock, please.” You carefully slipped your hand into his and he grasped onto it like a lifeline. “Listen to me. You didn't kill her. Mary, she-” you couldn't find the words to finish.

You knew Sherlock was lying, you may not have known the whole story yet but you knew Sherlock hadn't killed Mary. But he was blaming himself, and you couldn't allow him carry that kind of weight.

“It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll- we'll figure it out.”

You knew your words were empty. Mary was dead. The life you'd known yesterday was gone. It wasn't going to be okay, not for a long time if ever. But you needed to say something, anything, to help ease the heartache you were both feeling. You had to be strong, for him.

“I promised,” Sherlock's voice had been reduced to a whimper. “I- I promised I'd keep her safe.”

Having no other empty promises to offer, you did the only thing your distressed mind would allow. You pulled Sherlock against you and held him close. He sobbed into your shoulder, completely inconsolable.

“It's okay,” you comforted, holding the pieces together as Sherlock broke in your arms. “It's okay, I'm here.”

You glanced around the wreckage of the flat. Both your belongings were strewn along the floor, mostly in pieces. But none of that mattered, not now. At the moment there was only one broken thing you were focused on fixing.

Wordlessly, you stood. Sherlock's hold on you tightened, almost as if he feared you were leaving him. But a comforting hand grasping his own eased his worries. You pulled him to his feet and together, navigated across the treacherous kitchen floor that was covered in broken glass.

You pulled the first aid kit from the cupboard and Sherlock caught on, obediently seating himself in one of the chairs that had remained standing during his outburst.

Your fingers gently caught Sherlock's wrist and drew his hand close to you. First, you washed away the blood and then pressed the disinfectant wipe to his knuckles. Sherlock didn't react.

You sniffled as you worked, wiping at your eyes. Sherlock made no comment, his own tears were yet to stop. Focusing on Sherlock's injury and the task at hand was currently the only thing stopping you from breaking again.

You dried the wound and bandaged it up, not that it was necessarily needed, but it was something to focus on.

When you finished tending to the injury, you didn't let go of Sherlock's hand. You sat together for a moment, the silence deafening.

You glanced at him through blurred vision. His eyes reflected what you were both feeling. You were both broken. Mary, your best friend, was gone and the family you'd both found had been torn apart.

Sherlock pulled you into him, his strong hold suggesting that he didn't plan on letting go anytime soon. You held him just as tightly.

You sat together amidst the wreckage, mourning both Mary and the life you'd both had just hours earlier. You'd both lost your best friend and you knew the fallout would be unimaginable. But for now, you had each other, and you hoped that would be enough to make it through what was to come.

~~~~~~

Forever tag list: @miraclesoflove​ @bakerstreethound​ @kealohilani-tepise

Sherlock tag list: @fanfictionsilove​ @quentawewe​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @starrykitn​  @doozywoozy​ @xxinvisiblexx​ @the-worst-critic​ @Jellyfishbeansontoast @Xhz17x

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 2

a/n: lmao this is kinda weird for me but i think this was an interesting request so lets try it!

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

lowkey kyotani kentaro typa beat but you gotta squint (??)

also warning! angst!

anon request: Hii! I just read the seijoh manager headcannon you wrote, it made me cry so much, i love those seijoh boys so much, and you are such an amazing writer! I dont know if requests are open or not but i was wondering what would happen if the boys ever find out what happened to reader cha? If requests aren’t open or if you just don’t want to write about it, I completely understand! Thank you for your wonderful writing again! Stay safe!

the stageplay was *chefs kiss* like MY MANS IWA WAS SERVING LOOKSSSS

soooooo

this might get really angsty idk so just a warning in advance

anyways

i mentioned in the earlier part that no one really knew what happened to you

so this one is when they DO find out what happened and what theyre gonna do about it

so first off, kyoken was basically the only one who saw you that day and saw how badly you looked

the thing is, at that current moment, he didnt really know the reason why and what happened

he had theories that you got jumped or you just got into an accident 

but he was prettttttyyyy sure you got beat up

so you went home and rushed to yanno, take a shower and get your wound treated and cleaned so that it would heal bc you really cannot afford to let the boys see that

they would think of the worst at the smallest sight of blood on you and you really didnt want to deal w that chaos at the moment

you cant let them get suspended from school since they were going to interhigh soon and you cant let oikawa and the boys ruin their reputations just for you

a first year girl theyve just met

it was kinda hard to rinse all of the milk from your hair but you were able to at least get the smell out and clean up your mess

then you looked in the mirror and saw faint handprints around your throat from that girl miyo and you cringed as you touched it

‘jesus christ, seriously what does she eat? bricks?’

after your clothes were in the wash, you went to bed to get homework done and also looking up how to use the concealer to hide your bruises 

you didnt really own any makeup but your mom has some so you could just use that

during dinner, you wore a turtleneck to prevent any suspicion from happening but you couldnt really hide the big gash on your face

‘y/n, what happened!’

‘i was dumb and accidentally fell up the stairs’

your parents shared a chuckle bc theyve actually seen you do this before so it was easy to believe the lie

‘darling, do we need to get you glasses? it seems your sight has worsened’

‘haha’

you went along with the joke but you weren’t eating and just pushed your food around

‘y/n? is the food not good?’

your mother asked but you shook your head with a convincing smile

‘its good! i just had some meat buns with the team earlier and i ate a lot so im still full’

you cursed at yourself for making it sound so rehearsed but you were relieved when your mother nodded

the next morning, you were satisfied with the reduced puffing of your face and you snuck into your parents bathroom where her makeup bag would be

as you held up the concealer, you started getting anxious because this was not the same shade as your skin and it would definitely raise suspicion if you had a different color on your neck than the rest of your body

you already planned to blame your wound as acne that you accidentally scratched but what were you going to do with the handprints?

the website you read said that it would take at least a day for them to fade

so you decided youd just wear a scarf and pretend you were cold

kunimi was confused as to why you had a scarf bundled around your neck and his eyes even widened at the sight of the bandaid on your face

‘y/n! what-!’

he shot up from his seat and your eyes widened before hissing at him to sit down

‘what happened to you?!’

he worriedly asked but you waved him off with a small smile

‘acne. this was the only available bandaid in my house so i had to work with this’

kunimi might be a lazy little shit but he was observant

and he noticed the way you said that sentence

it was like a robot

like a robot programmed to say what was written on its script

but before he could press on further, you already pointed out that the teacher was coming in and to hush so you could listen

the entire time, kunimi was awake alright, but he was too busy looking at you and a bright red thing that poked from the edge of your bandaid

kindaichi went to your classroom for lunch and you had to repeat your excuse for him but he pointed at another thing

‘why are you wearing a scarf? its like burning in here’

you didnt look at him as you just opened your bento

‘being in your period causes your temperature to fluctuate and cause unexplainable chill at even the hottest places’

okay what

they both shared a look and just shrugged, blaming it on your time of the month for the way you spoke with no emotion in your tone

this had to be the longest school day of your life

the whole time the scarf remained on and kunimi cant help but notice your flinches at the smallest of sounds

finally practice arrived and you really thought you could pull this off until oikawa barreled straight towards you and hugged you tightly

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’ 

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

‘y/n, what’s the-’

‘acne. only bandaid available in my house’

eventually, everything was fine

you were still cracking jokes w the others and you were still laughing w them so kunimi and kindaichi were at ease

but that shattered when oikawa was being oikawa and was being all touchy and bothering you about the scarf around your neck that he ended up pulling it off and he saw the marks

he was silent, just staring at them

ofc you were freaking out and you started breathing heavily

oh god he found out and he was going to hurt them

‘o-oikawa-senpai, listen, it’s not what it-’

‘y/n’

his voice made your eyes shut in fear and the others crowded around you and they all had scandalized looks on their faces

‘is this why you werent in practice yesterday?’

his voice was sharp, a complete opposite to his normally cheerful tone

you shivered and sighed

‘senpai, please dont-’

‘who is it?’

the other third years shared a look bc they were truly shook at oiks voice

‘w-why should i tell you?! its none-’

‘i am your captain and i deserve to know who is pulling you away from your managerial duties so he could just give you these damn hickeys!’

the gym turned silent

you stopped then furrowed your eyebrows

‘hickey? what-’

‘dont act like you dont know, y/n. so just be honest and tell me who’s your boyfriend’

lmao i shouldnt laugh bc this was supposed to be sad but im cackling at how dumb oikawa really is sometimes

‘i-i,,,,’

you stuttered but you knew this was the perfect opportunity

you could just blame it on this ridiculous misunderstanding 

its a difficult hole to get out of but it would be easier than the other

so you pretended to be flustered and turned around to hide your face

‘it was a one-time thing, oikawa-san. i promise it wont happen again’

HELLO WHAT

the team was leaking the feeling of RAGE

how dare someone take their manager!

she was theirs!

and it doesnt help that every player might have a little thing for you

is this really turning into a harem

oikawa kept demanding answers but iwa hit him enough to quit and they finally went back to practicing but they were still distracted

every time they looked at you, they would grow flustered and red and end up missing a block or a serve

they just cant see their baby manager like that

you noticed it quickly and irritably got on them

‘stop staring at my neck and get back to practice!’

they flinched and saluted at you

lmao this little first year girl is able to control nearly a dozen <5′10 men who are all older than her

but you were glad that they finally stopped asking about it

this was going to go by smoothly and you were going to be okay

however,,,

several days later,,,

this is an angst fanfiction so i will bring thy angst

you were taking out your class garbage since it was your group’s turn in cleaning the classroom when you were grabbed by the arm on your way back

it was still outside and after school so it wouldve been an unlikely situation that someone would help you

it was that biatch miyo again and her 2 minions behind her

then you recognized one girl from the track team who was actually a year older than you but you saw her dropping off some files in the office

if you tried to run, she could easily grab you w her fast legs

great

you were stuck

you let out a tired sigh and crossed your arms on your chest

‘what is it you want from me, again?’

she smirked

‘you really dont know how to listen, do you? i told you to stay away from oikawa but youre still flaunting around with him!’

is she serious?

this girl was borderline stalker/yandere type of girl

you gave her an incredulous look and frowned

‘girl, do you hear yourself? you damn crazy and im leaving’

but she grabbed you back and shoved you against the wall

but this time, you kicked her on the chest to make her fall on her flat booty

surprise was written on their faces and you stretched your arms in front of you to symbolize distance

‘one more step and ill beat tf out of you. i just got my nails off so id watch it if i were you’

miyo huffed and stood up, brushing herself, glaring at one of the girls who tried to help her

then she remembered what you told her

‘hmm? if you hit me, you could be kicked off of the team since you hurt another student. so, go ahead, little kouhai’

she was right

even if it was self-defense, the school’s disciplinary section sucked and just suspended or kicked off people left and right even though they didnt do anything wrong

you were stumped

you were here on a scholarship, not on tuition

your mom would KILL you if she found out you got into a fight and got a record

but you didnt show that and kept your tough facade

‘dont challenge me. i could be a crazy bitch and i dont think youd like your little face being all messed up. so watch your mouth and leave me alone’

you turned to leave but she grabbed your hair and tugged it back

lmao flashbacks to the other part

she twisted your hair into a ponytail and had a firm grip while a girl kicked you behind your knees so you would fall to the ground

oh no you were done w this

you elbowed miyo on the stomach the hardest you could and she groaned which loosened her hold and you kicked her again to the ground

some other girl hit your side and you winced before slapping her straight across the face bc you didnt want to punch her and hurt your knuckles

but they were really testing you

the last girl still had your hair but you twisted around to face her and just did the last you could think of that would hurt

hit her right between her legs

you finally escaped their hold and miyo lunged after you

‘oh my god leave me alone!’

you yelled before holding up your arms to protect your face but she scratched your arms 

obviously you were losing this bc it was just you but you were going to fight as much as you can

‘bad kouhais need to be punished! your senpais need to teach you a lesson!’

miyo screeched and you grabbed her arm before punching her straight at the boob

sorry rebecca

however, one girl was smart and did the same thing you did to her knees and made you fall to a kneeling position and eventually made you curl into a fetal position

gurl we actually fighting so hard considering we’ve never been in a fight

they continuously kicked you before miyo pulled up your head so you could sit up and kneel in front of her

ofc you tried to grab at her and punch at her

but these other girls were able to catch you and trap your arms in their hold and had their feet on your legs so you couldnt kick

great, another bathroom scene

your arms were bleeding from miyo’s scratches and your sides were hurting after their kicks

you lost and you were already bleeding in places you didnt think you would

this would be the last attempt and if he doesnt come, you’re done for

‘IIIIIIWWWWWAAAAAAAA-SAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!’

your scream echoed throughout the entire are

possibly could be heard in new york

and your voice became hoarse

ofc the girls were surprised and caught off guard but when there was silence and clear that no one was coming, they started laughing

‘oh, so cute! iwa-san? is that supposed to be iwaizumi-san? heh, you whoring around w him too? thats so cute-’

‘LET. GO. OF. HER. NOW.’

I GOT CHILLS

the girls holding you shrieked and dropped their hold on you before scrambling back causing you to drop to the ground

miyo’s eyes were wide and there was horror all over her face at the voice of that infamous boy

kyotani kentarou

‘WHAT THE FK ARE YOU DOING?!’

he yelled and miyo turned around to be met with his piercing eyes before screaming and running away with her minions in tow

‘YEA RUN AWAY! FKING COWARDS!’

ltr the cursing is so awkward for me to do but this is his character and im just so awkward so sorry!!

you coughed and winced at the pain on your side which caught his attention

again, he noticed you as the manager of their team and you’ve been hanging out w him, well, just him staring at you, at the alley while you feed the animals

you were actually nice and caring and definitely didnt deserve this

‘oi, y-you okay?’

you didnt look up, just closing your eyes in pain and biting your lips to not let out the crying

his eyes softened at you and he noticed you were trying to act tough and brave even though you just got beat up

normally, he wouldnt even help anyone but it seems you just did something to him

he sighed before gently picking you up, you not even bothering to stop him, and he held you tightlyin his arms as he carried you to the nurses office

he had a feeling you didnt want to be seen like this and hes been in the nurse enough to know she actually leaves the moment school ends

you let out a shaky breath as he set you down on the cot and you opened your eyes to reach your hold for him when he went away

‘n-no, don’t leave-’

but he grunted softly before holding your wrist

‘im just getting your damn medicine. chill out’

lowkey getting bakugou vibes

you nodded and went to close your eyes again

kyo returned w some pain relief medicine from his bag that he carries 

babie actually gets into fights often and he needs it sometimes

and he had alcohol medicine kind istg and bandaids for your arms

it was silent as you drank the pills and he sat down next to you so he could treat the wounds

but he let his curiosity take over him

‘why the fk did you let them do this to you’

he grunted and you scoffed with a smile

‘let? more like overpower me and grip me as they just hit me’

‘cant you fight them back?’

you glared at him

‘bruh i literally kneed some girl in their cooch but they just some superhuman typa girls that cant be hurt’

he sighed

‘maybe you just werent strong enough’

okay listen here you lil shit

you didnt want to listen to him scold you anymore so you just went back to closing your eyes

but kyo is actually lowkey nosy so he kept asking questions

‘the first time we met. was it her too?’

you flinched in surprise

‘you remembered that?’

‘ofc i did. you looked like shit. not as bad as this but still like shit’

‘gee thanks, stranger-kun’

‘kyotani,,, kentarou’

you smiled

‘nice to meet you, kyotani kentarou. im l/n y/n’

‘i know’

he mumbled but you didnt catch it

‘thanks for hearing me and coming to help’

he hummed

he wasnt going to tell you that he actually heard the scream for his idol and thought hed be there so he ran to go see him but instead saw you

kyo just respects and looks up to iwa-chan so much it warms my heart uwu-

once you were all patched up, you were finally able to stand but you still staggered

he grabbed your arm softly and sat you back down

‘what the hell are you going to tell the team?’

you paused then sighed

‘i dont know. ill figure something out’

but he knew how observant the players would be and they would catch on

after all, he was there watching at the top bleachers as oikawa yelled at you for the ‘hickey’

‘if they didnt hit your face, you could get away with it. but you have wounds all over you and theyd find out. im guessing youre doing this bc you dont want to trouble them or burden them? bc they would do something about it?’

you just stared at this guy

‘how-’

‘just a guess’

he also wasnt going to tell you that he was actually part of the team but the constant fighting got him in suspension

and the fact that his parents were donors for the school, he only got a tap on the wrist

‘so what do i do, then?’

‘tell them-’

‘no i cant do that! another plan, kyo-kun!’

‘oi, im a second year, idiot. treat me with respect’

the irony bc he totally treats oikawa like trash

‘i just,,,, oikawa-san is seen as this prince/gentleman type and i know how protective he is towards me so the slightest problem could cause him to be ballistic. miyo is popular enough to circulate rumors about him and hes already in his third year and she is too so i just have to endure one year until theyre gone’

kyo was disgusted

all this for that stupid idiot captain?

‘youre dumber than i thought’

you weakly hit him at the arm

‘so mean, kyo-san’

‘i dont think its right youre suffering for someone who isnt even worth it’

you glared and linked your fingers together

‘im the manager. i knew this would happen the moment i signed up but i didnt care. as manager, i have to keep up the team’s image and their popularity for support so i cant let all that be ruined just bc a little first year girl couldnt fight for herself’

‘just tell them, kid. less problems’

then he stood up to leave

‘kid?! im only a year younger than you! what you mean!’

but you were panicking

someone knew about you being hurt and they could easily tell the team

and it only increased when he entered the gym and later introduced himself as a player

you were so surprised that you stopped breathing

‘kyo-san,,,’ 

you muttered and he glared at you

well, more like look at you but i have a theory that kyo actually has problems w his sight so it looks like he’s glaring at you constantly but hes just actually trying to see clearly

‘yo’

oikawa was surprised at this interaction

‘eh? you know kyoken-chan?’

you nodded, still looking at the blonde

‘i-uh’

‘its none of your business’

kyotani grunted and you sighed in relief

maybe your secret would be safe

you were still uneasy about him accidentally revealing it, especially since he practically worships iwaizumi-san, but he kept his mouth shut

your caring personality at first was overbearing on him but he appreciated your efforts like volunteering on helping him with his eyeliner or asking him if he needed help with his medical tape

ngl, he also thought you were there just bc it was a team full of guys and you thought you could have that weird girl fantasy of having a harem

but you cared for them like practically a mother and continuously made it clear to oikawa that you were NOT interested in going on a date with him

you werent annoying, you were nice, and you weren’t pushy so he actually showed you respect and took a liking to you

this created a soft of protectiveness around you

sometimes, he would see you around school and he would practically glare at the girls he knew hated you

and when he wasnt there to protect you, you would call him to the nurses office where he would mumble apologies of not being there while patching you up before he would go over and threaten them to touch you again and he would bite their fingers off

aww hes so cute

ofc he still kept your secret bc it wasnt his business to tell 

until that one day

it was normal practice with you helping the boys toss the balls so they could spike it

iwaizumi spiked it really hard making you flinch and he apologized profusely after you almost fell off the chair you were standing on in surprise

‘im just angry that that damn shittykawa is the captain and is late to his own damn practice’

oikawa? late?

that was unheard of

you were about to get off the chair and look for him when the devil himself entered the gym with the devil’s mistress on his arm

miyo was holding on to his arm as he laughed at something she said and ruffled her hair

you dropped the ball and kyotani quickly moved to you so he could stand in front of you protectively

‘oi! shittykawa! youre late!’

oikawa just smiled and pointed at the girl

‘miyo-chan made us cookies, iwa-chan!’

at the mention of food, the boys ran forward but you and kyotani remained at the side at the infamous name

you got off the chair and hurriedly placed an arm in front of him

‘don’t, kyo-san’

‘the bitch-’

‘i know. but please, dont’

you begged and he huffed before aggresively wrapping an arm around your shoulder

aggressively cares for you

‘if she does something or even talks shit, i will-’

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan! come here!’

oikawa called but kyotani snarled at him

you smile wobbled when miyo’s eyes narrowed at you and she smirked

‘oh? your manager is so cute, oikawa-kun!’

the rest of the team was just blinking at this weird tension

kyo had his arm tightly around you and hatingly glaring at this girl, who was icily smirking at you, and you tightly holding kyo’s shirt with a worried glint in your eyes

‘you were late to your own damn practice, oikawa. stop wasting time eating this shit and go back to playing’

tbh it still shocks you at how rudely kyo talks to oikawa but you were too pre-occupied on making sure this kid wasnt going to lunge at this girl

‘a-ah, right. oikawa-san, we have to return to practice. if you excuse us, miyo-san-’

you were about to gently grab oikawa’s arm to bring him back when she grabbed your wrist and secretly gripped it

‘oh, dont be so uptight, y/n-chan! i worked so hard-’

but kyo immediately snatched her hand away from you and squeezed it as tight as he could, making her wince

oikawa noticed the pain in miyo’s face and he was angry that kyotani was hurting a girl

‘oi! kyotani!’

he shouted and pushed him away, making the team, even iwa, worriedly look at kyo and brace themselves for the beating

iwa jumped into action and held the second year back while you jumped in front of oikawa

‘kyo-san, calm-’

‘you! be quiet’

he shouted, finger pointing at you

‘and you!’

before pointing to oikawa

‘you are a shitty captain’

‘kyotani!’

iwa was just straight out confused and hes really questioning life decisions right now

mom is stressed and confused, i repeat, MOM IS STRESSED AND CONFUSED

oikawa’s eyes narrowed but he just calmly talked

‘we’ll talk about this later’

‘miyo-san, we really need to practice so if you could see yourself out’

iwa gently smiled to the girl, who was about to protest, but makki and mattsun has already pointed to the door

she huffed then turned to leave and once she was gone, iwa let go of kyotani

‘kyotani, what the hell was that’

oikawa lowly asked and you were about to put your arms out to separate them but yahaba and watari grabbed you so you wouldnt be caught in the middle

then kyo turned to you, fire in his eyes

‘either you tell him or i will’

can we just talk about how protective kyo is?

you trembled and you roughly left yahaba and watari’s grip so you could gently place your hands on his chest

‘please, kyo. just leave it, okay? remember, it’s my busi-’

‘if i see that bitch enter this gym again, i dont give a flying fuck if shes a girl. ill beat the living daylights out of her’

‘kyotani kentarou, what-!’

oikawa shouted but your glare shut him up

‘y/n-chan, what is going on’

‘n-nothing. kyo-san is just, yknow, being him. you know? okay. now lets get back to practice, everyone!’

coach irihata and the other guy sharing that look

to say the least, miyo was pissed

and when she was pissed at you, she always did what she normally does

she corners you wherever its deserted and beat you with the help of her minions who holds you down while she slaps, hits, or kicks you

girlie you needs to tell the boys youre literally getting hit and abused and im just-!!!!!!!!!

and thats exactly what she did

only this time, she wore hard-tipped shoes

‘see, y/n-chan? i saved up and got these shoes just for you!’

the minions were just sharing looks of fear and genuine sympathy for you

they were only there bc she blackmailed them with pictures doing questionable things and if they dont help, they would be released

as usual, you didnt cry, biting your lip as you winced from the pain of her kick at your side

‘youre so pathetic. how could you do this to a person? and all this for your oikawa-san? for a boy?’

you wheezed at her causing her eyes to flare

‘HAH?! SAY THAT AGAIN!’

‘i said-’

but you were cut off when she slapped the soul out of you

her ring cut you at the lip and you cringed at the taste of blood from your lip

‘what else? we gotta hurry this up, miyo, because practice started like 5 minutes ago and im going to get yel-’

‘SHUT UP!’

kyotani entered the gym after his talk with his teacher and immediately looked around for you

his honey brown eyes scanned the area and they widened as your figure wasn’t in sight

‘oi, yahaba, wheres the manager’

the boy shrugged from the side 

‘i dont know. shes late though’

oh god

‘kindaichi! kunimi! youre in the same grade right? did you see where she went after class?’

kunimi paused to remember before answering

‘she stayed after to talk to obe-sensei for the homework, that’s all i know’

that meant she stayed behind and was probably somewhere

‘SHIT!’

he shouted before bolting out the door

ofc the boys were all worried of his outburst and started yelling after him

‘kyotani!’

‘kyoken-chan?!’

they followed him, who was running as fast as he can

the girls would probably do it outside to avoid having to clean up their mess and he almost wrenched the door open in a hurry to take a lap around the school building

it was certainly a sight to see: a boy with dyed blonde hair and two brown lines followed after an entire volleyball team who were screaming after him

‘YOU-!’

he heard that bitch voice and bolted towards the back, where the dumpster was, and found you at the same position like the first time he saw you

blood was dripping on the floor from your busted lip and a cut on your cheek while your eyes were wide at the sight of kyotani’s panting form

‘kyo-!’

‘kyotani!’

your eyes watered at the sight of the entire volleyball team behind him, also eviqualiently surprised yet fuming angry

the girls who held you dropped your arms and ran for the hills so they wouldnt get caught

kyo pushed miyo aside as he grabbed you from the floor and held you

oikawa gave miyo a look that cannot even be described in words

all it was: incredibly, super, ridiculously, heatedly, furiously, angry

now multiply that by the entire team

‘hm, my father, who is the chieftain of the police, mentioned about there being jail time for even minors who commit serious acts like assault or bullying’

mattsun seethed

‘really? i think he’d like the video as evidence against kenta miyo for assault and battery, including bullying, so how many years would that add up to? nearly a decade?’

the girl miyo squeaked as oikawa and iwaizumi roughly grabbed each wrist

‘how long’

miyo trembled at the increased pressure on her wrist

‘IM ASKING YOU A FUCKING QUESTION! HOW LONG!’

iwaizumi has never shouted at a girl before and hopefully, it would be the last

‘s-s-since l-last month’

you burrowed your head in kyotani’s shirt

‘please dont’

‘shut the fk up, y/n-chan, we’re not talking to you right now’

oikawa coldly reprimanded

‘everyone, take y/n away. iwaizumi and i can take care of this. but mattsun, makki, track down those 3 girls and find others who have even touched our manager’

‘got it, boss’

if it was in a different situation, you wouldve applauded oikawa at his ability to be a leader but you were currently in pain from the bruises and the cuts all over you

your fellow first-years were angrily punching things in the nurse’s office

rip nurse in the morning when she finds holes all over her walls

the irony is, the most agressive one, kyotani kentarou, was the calmest as he quietly cleaned your wounds and placed ointment on the bruises

‘i told you so’

he mumbled and you scoffed

‘howd you find me anyways?’

‘dumb bitch yaps really loud’

he answered

no one was yelling at you and no one was saying a word

eventually, oikawa and iwaizumi entered followed by the rest of the third years

‘why. why didnt you tell us, y/n?’

oikawa asked as he sat down on the chair beside the bed

you looked down and fiddled with your fingers

‘if i did, you wouldve hurt her. and she wouldve spread rumors about you and ruin the image and reputation of the grand king and the volleyball team. i didnt want to do that to you and thought i could just endure it one year since youre graduating anyways’

iwaizumi sucked in a harsh breath

‘you wouldn’t have known what we were going to do. you are no oracle and you dont know how we are going to handle this situation. so you were really stupid for keeping these things to yourself, y/n. you may be our manager and our caretaker but let us take care of you too’

you nodded but your tears fell

‘sorry. im really sorry. i didnt meant to trouble you’

‘stop apologizing, y/n’

‘sorry’

‘y/n!’

you bowed your head low and bit your lip in guilt

‘i shouldve told you but i didnt and now everyone is troubled-’

‘we’re a team, y/n. youre not a lone wolf anymore. you have a pack standing right beside you’

watari mumbled and he sat down to give you his favorite hug: the one arm hug

‘im super angry right now and it might seem like im snappy but i really want you to know, y/n, that i really love you and i am just hurt that you didnt trust us enough to tell us you were suffering when i trust you with my entire being. so next time youre hurting or in pain, dont you dare keep it to yourself. tell us, okay? tell your senpais and friends about it so we can share that burden’

oikawa babie you are so mature like what-

what started out as a hug from watari turned into a team hug around the tiny bed, even kyo joined, and you were so happy you found a good team that appreciated you and everything youve done and accepted you as one of their own

‘oikawa-san, what did you do to miyo?’

‘again, im mad y/n-chan, so please dont talk about her right now’

‘iwa-san?’

‘dont use those puppy eyes on me! dont you dare-- okay, we’re pressing charges’

silence

‘WHAT?!’

‘and iwa-chan slapped her!’

‘WHAT?!’

‘shut up shittykawa you did too!’

‘WHAT?!’

a/n: this hurted a bit and im sorry if this was lowkey awkward and all over the place but i didnt exactly know how to portray this situation since ive never experienced this, just bullying in general, before but for those who have, please tell someone so that you dont have to carry that burden by yourself. it doesnt have to be a your parents, but talk to a trusted adult so that this type of stuff doesnt happen to you bc you truly dont deserve that type of treatment and deserve to be happy and feel safe in an environment like school or anywhere in general

[readerinsertz]

can you write alpha kagami taiga x omega fem reader? reader went in heat? thanks!

Rating: Explicit, MDNI

Genre: Omegaverse AU (Alpha!Kagami, Omega!Reader)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+ Content, afab!reader, omega!reader, smut, heat sex, soft sex, knotting, minor manhandling, slight thigh riding, nipple play, praise, slight possessiveness, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, spanking, some dirty talk.

You woke to a soft fire burning through your body. It took a few kicks to throw off the blanket but eventually you managed to sit up and free yourself from the fabric. Sluggishly, you rolled to the edge of the mattress to pick up a water bottle and greedily drank down the cool water. As you gulped down the liquid, your other hand fished out your phone. The blue flashing light alerted you to the fact that you had a new message.

To: (Nickname)

From: Kagami

Time: 12:36

About to start next period xx Sorry if this wakes ypu

To: (Nickname)

From: Kagami

Time: 12:36

*you

To: (Nickname)

From: Kagami

Time: 12:36

How are you feeling?

To: (Nickname)

From: Kagami

Time: 12:37

Has your heat started? Tell me the moment it happens so I can come home to you!!

To: Kagami (｡>﹏<｡)

From: (Nickname)

Time: 12:37

I just woke up. Feeling a bit hot rn

To: Kagami (｡>﹏<｡)

From: (Nickname)

Time: 12:38

I'm fine though Alpha. heat's not starting just yet dw

To: Kagami (｡>﹏<｡)

From: (Nickname)

Time: 12:38

You focus on your classes, I'll be fine for the next few hours (=^-ω-^=)

You stared at your phone for a few more moments in case Kagami texted you back. When there was no new message, you looked up and surveyed the room. Your first heat with Kagami had been in the comfort of your house but interacting with your family after a few days of being Mated had been so embarrassing that you had spent the subsequent heats at Kagami's since he lived alone. His single bed had been an issue at first until Kagami had the idea of removing the mattress from the bed frame and placing it on the floor so neither of you would accidentally fall off the bed during Mating.

Your Alpha had woken up at 6:30 to get ready for school. As you were about to go into heat, you had decided against going to school today or yesterday. The tall Alpha had carried you from the bed to the sofa, cooked breakfast for you whilst you had snoozed on the couch and had placed the mattress onto his bedroom's floor for you to make a Nest on after he had left for school. Your inner Omega had made her distress over the separation of her Mate abundantly known but it was for the best that Kagami went to school. He could get the notes from the classes you would miss. Riko would also have both of your necks if Kagami's grades slipped any further.

Stepping out of your Nest, you paused long enough to pull your shorts off in an effort to cool down. You made your way to the kitchen, tugging the neckline of the shirt you were wearing up to your nose to inhale the scent of your Mate. Kagami's old jersey was so big it hung loosely on your frame. The cool gust of air from the fridge was a welcomed relief and you stood for a few seconds in front of the open fridge just letting it cool down your flushed body. Opening your eyes, you scanned the food on the shelves. A bento was placed on one of the lower shelves, your Alpha making sure it wasn't too high that you wouldn't be able to grab it. You smiled at his consideration and took the food out. Impatiently, you plucked out a tomato as you crossed the kitchen to grab chopsticks.

The food didn't take long to be consumed, your body gradually moving out of Preheat and into Heat. A Preheat was a period of time that lasted anywhere between five and fourteen days and allowed an Omega's body to prepare for their Heat. In that time, the Omega tended to build their Nests and eat more to stock up their energy reserves for the upcoming calorie-demanding Heat. It almost felt like Kagami had been in the kitchen for the seven days of your Preheat, cooking whatever food you had mentioned, even in passing. You placed the container and chopsticks into the sink, turning on the tap to wash them. Once they are placed on the side to dry, you turned the cold tap on and let the water run down your forearms to cool down a bit more. This was probably the worst part of a Heat, the transition into one was marked with feelings of being impossibly hot and clammy yet still being coherent and not aroused enough to only think about Mating. Knowing that there was little to do to combat the internal heat, you turned the tap off and moved to where Kagami kept his snacks and pulled out a bag of crisps. Knowing that your Alpha wanted you to eat as healthily as possible you stopped on your way out of the kitchen to grab a banana.

You glanced at the black TV screen, contemplating about sitting on the sofa and watching some old replays to pass the time until your Alpha came home. A glance at the furniture reminded you that you had grabbed the cushions earlier when you had built your Nest and had put them around the edge of the mattress to make your Nest a bit larger; something necessary when your Alpha was as large as Kagami. You contemplated whether it would still be comfortable to sit on the covered springs or on the armrests but eventually decided against it- whilst your scent wasn't rolling off of you just yet, it would still cling to the fabric for weeks and drive Kagami crazy.

Back in your Nest, you chirped in happiness when you saw your phone had a new message. Your Alpha had sent you a message informing you of the bento you had already eaten as well as advising you to stay hydrated and nourished. Purring at how attentive and caring your Alpha was, you sent a quick reply that you had eaten the bento and was drinking healthily. Tossing your phone to the edge of your Nest, you snuggled down in the fabrics, planning to take a nap. Preheat often made you feel sleepy and saving your energy for your actual Heat was always a good idea. When you pulled a blanket to cover just your legs, Kagami's scent wafted over to your keen nose. You smiled at the relaxing smell and closed your eyes.

When you awoke for the second time, you realised two things. One, you felt like there was an inferno raging in your body. And two, your Alpha was gently shaking you awake.

"Wake up, 'Mega, I think your Heat's started," Kagami spoke softly, his hand tracing down your cheek. A purr vibrated through your chest at the sight of him leaning over you. Without thinking, you reached your hand out to grasp the chain hanging from your mate's neck and used it to tug his face down to yours.

The first kiss was gentle, a light pressure on your lips as Kagami tried to convey the love he felt for you. The two of you separated for a few seconds before surging back, this time with greater intensity. Kagami's tongue swiped over your lips and you parted them, letting his tongue in. Kagami's tongue danced with yours before retreating back, his teeth softly grazing your lips as he pulled back.

"Alpha," you weakly moaned, thrusting your hips up. The male understood your non-verbal plea, moving quickly to grab your hips and pull them so your wet pussy was resting on his thick thigh. The small burst of pleasure from being both manhandled and having your clothed covered clit brushed against had keens and whines falling out of your swollen lips.

"Fuck, you look so good in my jersey," Kagami muttered, large hands roaming up your stomach and moving the shirt up to rest above your breasts. A throaty groan left him when he saw your braless chest. His thumb skimmed against one nipple, the stimulation enough to pebble it. Long fingers pinched your brown nipple before squeezing the flesh of your boob. Kagami leant down and kissed you, the need to be within you causing his kiss to become sloppy. Your head fell back from the simple pleasure from Kagami squeezing your left boob plus the tingles of heat that were firing from your core. In your desperation, you had begun to grind your soaked vagina against the meat of your Alpha's thigh. With your head titled back, Kagami took the opportunity to trail open-mouthed kiss from your lips to your neck, sucking on the skin long enough to cause purple flowers to bloom on your tanned skin. Wanting to really hear you, the Alpha scrapped his teeth over your Scent Gland where most Mating Marks were placed. The feeling had you moaning loudly.

"Off," you weakly tugged on the shirt that was hanging on his chest. Kagami scrambled to tear it off his frame, fingers fighting the buttons on his shirt. Once it was off, Kagami bent his arm to throw it somewhere else but aborted the action halfway. Instead, the Alpha offered the material to you. With a chirp, you took the material and buried your face into it, moaning as you were suddenly surrounded by his scent. Subdued for a few moments, Kagami took that time to rip off his white undershirt and pull his belt off.

"Alpha," you moaned, hips bucking up to rub your core against his thigh. The pleasure that coursed through you from the action had your eyes rolling back and thighs shaking.

"That's right, 'Mega, use me," Kagami muttered, large hands wrapping around your hips to pull you further down onto his thigh. The increase in friction against your clit had slick gushing out of your hole, your underwear completely destroyed. With Kagami's encouragement, you began to ride his thigh. Your low moans were the only things louder than the wet noises coming from where the two of you met. When Kagami squeezed your hips hard you had to stop your movements, your arousal so great you felt it would burn you.

"Such a pretty Omega," Kagami praised, looking down at you. You were such a beautiful sight, your hair a dark halo around your head. As much as Kagami loved seeing you in his clothes, his inner Alpha growling in pleasure at the blatant display of ownership- who owned who, Kagami couldn't even answer- the Alpha grabbed the edges of his jersey and pulled it over your neck. Knowing you would probably want it once Knotted, Kagami placed it to one side.

"I'm here, don't worry, I'm here," Kagami whispered, leaning over you. His hands roamed up your skin, spending a few minutes squeezing your breasts as he moved his thigh in time with your hips, and grabbed your hands that had twisted into his hair. With a growl, he pinned them to the mattress above your head.

"Keep them there, 'Mega," Kagami growled, your thighs clamping hard around his own at the sound. You let out a purr of obedience but Kagami squeezed your wrists one last time to make sure you got the message. Hands now free, Kagami ran them down the sides of your body before grabbing your pants and ripping them off. Your yip went unanswered as Kagami's hands grabbed your butt and pulled you up so he could feast on your pussy.

"Alphaaa," you moaned, grabbing the sheet to stop your hands from moving to your mate's head. Kagami licked one broad stripe up your vagina. He pressed a kiss against your clit hood, tongue dipping down to draw figures of eight on your clit. You couldn't help but press your hips further into his face, Kagami's hands squeezing your cheeks in encouragement. Moans poured out of the male's mouth as he sloppily ate you out. Your Alpha had made it clear early on that going down on you was almost as pleasurable to him as it was to you and would take an opportunity to pleasure you orally. Once the Alpha was sure that there would be a handprint on your left buttcheek, he moved his hand closer to your core. A finger slid through your folds, testing how wet you were. Even if you weren't in heat, under his tongue you would have still been soaked.

The pleasure that came from one of Kagami's fingers was enough for you to reach down and clench your fist into his hair. The Alpha chuckled at your impatience but didn't reprimand you for not listening to him. A second finger slipped in with the first one, curling in a come hither motion to rub against your g-spot. The added stimulation paired with the constant circling of his tongue on your clit was enough to send you over the edge. Your thighs clamped around his head, your legs trembling as your finish coursed through your entire body.

"Come back to me yet?" Kagami asked, popping his head up from where your thighs met. You could only hum in lieu of a reply; whilst it had taken the edge off of your heat, it had also taken some of your energy away. Your Alpha didn't wait for a reply, pressing kisses along your neck and clavicle, sucking areas of skin to add to the marks he had already created. When you felt ready you raked your fingernails down his broad back, the male bucking into your body at the pleasurable pain. Placing one last bite at the swell of your breast, Kagami pushed himself onto his hands and knees, freeing up one of his hands to gently guide you to Present. Your purr was loud once you were on your hands and knees under him, the Alpha behind you letting out his own chuff at how protected you felt under his large frame.

Feeling your heat's pull once more, you wiggled your butt at your Alpha to get him to move along. You were met with a spank that had your back arching.

"Patience," Kagami growled, eying how your cheek jiggled from the action. A part of him wanted to continue hitting you just to see the delectable sight but he could sense how your heat was beginning to become unbearable again. Grabbing the base of his dick, Kagami hissed at how sensitive he was. Unable to resist, the male pumped his shaft a few times but had to stop in fear of coming and knotting his hand. Shuffling closer to you so the backs of your thighs brushed against the front of his, he slowly pushed into your heat. Once fully in, Kagami had to stop and grab a hold of your hips, squeezing the flesh to prevent himself from coming. The feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock was overwhelming.

"Alphaaaa," you whined, deepening the arch of your back. The Omega deep within you wanted to be knotted and bad. Kagami got the message though, pulling his hips back until only the tip was in and thrusting back in. The Alpha immediately set a brutal pace, hips slapping against yours as he drilled into you. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you drowned in feeling so full. Kagami's cock was thick enough to give you a slight burn whenever he was fucking you, yet was still long enough to reach the deepest parts of your body.

Unable to keep you up, your arms collapsed and brought your chest to lie on the sheets of your nest. The new angle had Kagami's dick rubbing your g-spot, sending you even higher.

"Alphaaa... please, give it to mee... give me your knot," you begged under your breath, not even coherent enough to understand what you were babbling about.

"Don't worry, 'Mega, your Alpha's here. I'll give you what you want." Kagami pressed his chest to your back, circling one arm around your waist to rub your clit. Even though you had already orgasmed a few minutes beforehand, your heat had burnt its way through you again that you were teetering over the edge of the precipe; the stimulation just aided in bringing you closer to another climax. Kagami continued circling your nub, shudders raging through your entire body.

"Gonna... cum- fuck. You feel so so good. Good little 'Mega. Gonna f-fill you up and knot you. Want that, don't you? 'Mega wants my knot," Kagami panted into your ear, your pheromones intoxicating him to the point he didn't know what he was saying or what language he was speaking in. The feeling of his knot expanding and catching on your rim every time Kagami pulled back had your eyes squeezing shut. What pushed you over the edge was the sensation of Kagami biting at the junction of your neck. The tiny pricks of pain mixed with the immense pleasure Kagami was giving you had you throwing your head back and screaming as you came around his dick. The Alpha grunted as your walls squeezed around him, thrusting twice more before his hips stuttered to a stop and he released inside you, his knot tying you two together.

"Fuuuuuck," you moaned, stretching out to get more comfortable since Kagami's knot lasted at least thirty minutes. A hiss left your lips as the movement caused Kagami's dick to brush against your oversensitive walls. Kagami followed your body down, littering kisses along your shoulder blade.

"Feeling better?" Kagami asked, tracing circles into the skin of your stomach.

"Yeah, for now anyway," you replied, one arm reaching out to grab the undershirt that he hadn't thrown too far away from your nest. Too tired to shuffle into a position where you could get the shirt on, you buried your face into the material, a chirp rolling out of your lips as your inner Omega let her delight at being so close to her mate's scent known. Kagami pressed his chest to your back as you pillowed his shirt under your head and closed your eyes for a well deserved short nap with your mate.

[kuroosmikasavolleyball]

Her Game

Abendrot

(n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.

____________________________________________

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

previous | next | masterlist |

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a/n: I’m so sorry this is late! I got really busy with school work and other stuff and Part 4 wasn’t ready to post on Sunday. Here it is though, I hope you enjoy. This is the second to last part of the series(I think). I hope you understand the connection to the series title now a little bit but it gets better😏 I don’t know if this counts as slow-burn but…yeah. Anyways, feel free to like, republish, and message me. Requests and taglists are open! This is a safe and loving place for everyone and any hate will be shut down. Enjoy reading<3

Part 4 summary: Ravenclaw and Slytherin verse in the second and last quidditch game of the season. New strategies, doubt, nervousness from what happened earlier is bundled up for (Y/N), and all she needs to focus on is winning this game. Will Slytherin take the win and bragging rights, or will Ravenclaw emerge victorious?

pairing: cedric x fem!reader(in ravenclaw)

genre: fluff

warnings: uh nothing

word count: 1.6k(how did this happen-)

____________________________________________

“What’s got your mood down the drain?”

Kimball peers at (Y/N)’s woeful face, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous; this new plan has already got me shaky.”

She would’ve told Kimball what had happened last night if Roger wasn’t right next to her.

(Y/N) leans her head on the palm of her hand. “It’s nothing. Can we just continue planning, please?” Roger looks at her, a bit worried as well.

“Maybe..this plan should stay a draft. I’ll go tell the team.” Roger almost gets up but (Y/N) stops him. “No, wait. I’m ok; I promise. Let’s do this.”

Fred and George walk in and (Y/N) speaks, “Just gimme a sec.” and goes towards them.

“Hey hey! How’s my favorite Ravenclaw?” Fred ruffles her hair and she swats the hand away.

“She’s..ok I guess. Kimball and Roger came up with a plan yesterday and somehow the whole team liked it. We’re gonna test it out during the pre-game practice but I’m a little terrified.”

“You smarties always come up with something, huh? Don’t worry about it; you’ll be great. I even got my special edition Ravenclaw hat!” George playfully lifts a blue and bronze homemade hat made by Mrs. Weasley. (Y/N) has the same kind for Gryffindor, but she’s smart enough not to wear it in public.

“You don’t have to cheer me up; I’m fine. By the way, have you seen Ced? He hasn’t come down for breakfast yet.”

“Nope, we haven’t; he must be off on his ~prefect duties~.”

George scrunches up his face in disgust.

They say their goodbyes and head to the Gryffindor table. Just as (Y/N) is about to go looking for Cedric, he walks in with a painful expression.

“God, I should’ve listened to you, these hangovers are not worth it.”

Huh? How is that his first sentence? Doesn’t he rememb-

“You ok? You know you have nothing to be nervous about today, right? Ravenclaw will definitely win.”

“Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just..do you remember last night at all?”

Cedric cocks his head to the side. “Uh.. a bit. I remember coming into the Ravenclaw common room, we played a drinking game..then it gets fuzzy. But I remember you walking me to my common room; thanks for that.”

Oh? He..doesn’t remember.

“Ah ok..that was most of the night so you didn’t miss too much. Go eat and drink water; you’ll feel better.”

The warmth in her ears and cheeks felt a bit too overwhelming once in the Ravenclaw locker room. Normally, a quidditch game wouldn’t have struck up such nervousness in (Y/N), or just the Ravenclaw team in general. They knew how to calm down in time for the game and bring all their assets to the table. Except now, there was only one match that determined everything.

Roger was almost roaring. “Alright guys! I know we’re all a little on edge right now, but let’s get to the point. We know Slytherin plays a dirty game but we’re staying fair. Don’t let rage take you over, think and focus, we got this. Let’s go out there and win this!”

He continued to give separate instructions to the beaters, the keeper, and the seeker. He turned to (Y/N) and Kimball, firing up to go.

“Before you say anything, Davies. We know what to do, we’ll try the plan out right now during the practice, ok? Now calm down.”

Kimball was surprisingly stable today and it was no doubt she was going to have a good match. Roger visibly deflated but kept a smug look in his face.

Hooch told them Ravenclaw was going first for practice so the team kicked off into the air.

(Y/N)’s hair was tied back and the breeze tickled her face. She missed this feeling; so freeing and beautiful.

Before long, Kimball nodded towards (Y/N) and took off. She stayed higher up and Roger acted as an opponent chaser. They released the Snitch, the Bludgers, and the Quaffle, and started a mock game. Roger zoomed past (Y/N) and she went behind him. Kimball followed (Y/N) but from above. (Y/N) stole the Quaffle and headed to the three goals, where their Keeper stayed, and scored.

(Y/N) kept the Quaffle and tried to score again, but Roger stole the ball and that’s when Kimball came into the playing area. She quickly picked the ball from Roger and scored while (Y/N) flew up. This was their plan; have one chaser on the pitch and the other two above, following the movements. As soon as the ball was stolen or the chaser runs out of stamina, another substitutes in. If all three chasers from the other team started tagging the one chaser, the other two will come down to help. Roger had checked with Hooch to see if the tactic broke any rules and she allowed the Ravenclaw team to use it.

The Slytherin team practiced regularly and it was a relief to not see any crazy strategies.

We can win this.

The houses filed in, chattering their heads off as the teams got ready to enter the field. The Ravenclaw team was introduced and they flew up, similar to the Slytherin team except for Lee’s backhanded comments.

“The game is the last one of the season! But don’t worry, I’m sure the Triwizard Tournament will be entertaining! Let’s get on now; today’s match is Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin. I hope you all cheer for the right team!”

He got a slight warning from Mcgonagall and that was it. Marcus Flint and the other players were all mounted on their fancy brooms; (Y/N) was a tad jealous, but her Comet 290 did the job. Hooch gave warnings and blew the whistle, and before (Y/N) knew it, the game began.

The strategy had worked so far except for a short period where Draco Malfoy was chasing the Snitch and almost crashed into (Y/N) and Kimball, who were waiting above and had to move away really quickly.

Roger was running out of breath and (Y/N) noticed, so she flew down after telling Kimball and took his spot. A red-haired Slytherin chaser had the Quaffle, so (Y/N) speeded towards them. One of the beaters hit a Bludger towards the chaser and (Y/N) swooped in to take the Quaffle when they were distracted.

“Nice hit, Jason!” She yelled as she went past him, dodging Marcus Flint.

“and…(Y/L/N) scores! The score is now 50-35 with Ravenclaw in the lead.”

Cheers grew even louder and (Y/N) swore she locked eyes with Cedric as she flew past the Hufflepuff tower.

Ravenclaw’s seeker, Cho Chang was a little quiet and the year below (Y/N), but she was amazing on the field. There was a point in time last year where Cedric took an interest to her, but it faded..(Y/N) hopes.

The game was similar to the last, taking a long time and the players started to lose energy. As the year had just started, it was fall and the sun set earlier. The breeze up above was chilly and the chasers of Ravenclaw went back to the regular strategy, even though the one they were using didn’t require a lot of stamina, they were getting tired of having to fly up and down. The score was 140-145 with Slytherin in the lead.

It was a little early for the sun to have set completely but the horizon line was blending. (Y/N) remembered a time where Cedric told her a word for this scenery...abendrot. The violent tango of the blue and orange hues made for a majestic view.

She was temporarily distracted since Roger had the Quaffle when she heard Lee’s voice booming, “Just as Davies scores..Chang is closing in on the snitch..SHE’S CAUGHT IT! RAVENCLAW WINS!”

The team quickly flew down and cheered for Cho, but it felt like a mutual celebration since everyone did so well. Kimball hugged (Y/N) tight and whispered about how her legs are going to be so sore.

They giggled amongst themselves until George’s voice ripped through the crowd and screamed (Y/N)’s name. The other houses were rushing up too, congratulating their friends and other players. (Y/N) was lifted and hugged by the twins and she spotted Cedric running up.

“Hell, if you think our game was good, this was amazing!” Fred laughed and set her down.

“I feel like most people weren’t watching towards the end since it was so long.”

Cedric finally caught up and spoke, “Nonsense, (Y/N). You did so well today, especially when you swooped in near the goal when Warrington had the Quaffle; you just stole it and dropped it in. He didn’t even realize.” A smile graced his face.

He noticed details..

“(Y/N)? You okay?”

“..Thanks! Yeah..um, sorry that was a really long game so I’m just tired.”

The twins and Cedric went back to their common room as Ravenclaw celebrated in a more calm way than Hufflepuff did.

A few students sat around the fireplace, but most of the players went to bed early.

“Did you see Malfoy’s face? He looked like he was about to kill someone with that grimace.” Inglebee chattered.

Kimball and (Y/N) went back to the dorms after signaling to their friends that they’re going because they couldn’t keep their eyes open.

(Y/N) thought back to how the sky looked when the sun kissed the mountains in the distance and fell asleep thinking about the fond memory of today and of when she learned from a certain someone about what that sunset is called. Abendrot.

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[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Six

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, fluff, implied smut, angst, mentions of war, military technicalities

A/N: We are back to Captain Sy and Sgt Liv and they are adorable together. But! It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, right? A big thank you to @thelastsock​ for being the best beta ever!

<Chapter Five

Title: Captain Six

“We have support from the locals. Not all of them. But plenty.”

Sy nodded in understanding as Liv informed him about their recent advancements with the villagers. She was dressed in her fatigues, her hair neatly tied in a bun and standing with her hands behind her back. She stood confidently beside Sy’s Lieutenant, the soft city girl disappearing under the strong demeanor of a soldier.

“They want to stay hidden for the time being. But they trust us.” Pepps added, his gloved hands holding the straps of his vest.

“It won’t turn out like the teacher from last year?” Sy asked, glancing from Pepps to Olivia. He remembered the horrible incident where the one person who had decided to help them had been charred to death. He had reached the school to witness a wailing woman and spectators watching as the burnt corpse was being taken to shelter by his brother. The deceased’s wife was shouting curses at them which still to this day kept ringing in Sy’s ears.

“Not currently.” The confidence in Liv’s voice had faltered, her tone dropping an octave. She looked at Pepps nervously with pursed lips.

The Captain let out a sigh. He rubbed his beard and brought his arms up to cross them over his chest. Glancing at the soldiers standing in front of him, he leaned back on his chair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Pepps picked up his gun from the chair and left the office, throwing a nod towards the Captain. Sy watched his Lieutenant walk out the door, leaving only him and Liv in the office. Away from prying eyes, Liv relaxed her shoulders and stood at ease. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she yawned while looking at Sy from the corner of her eyes.

An amused smile crept up on Sy’s bearded face. “Tired?”

Dragging another yawn out of her mouth, Liv smiled lazily at him. “I have been up since…I don’t know… Yesterday? Noon?”

“You had the night shift.” Sy remarked. He had noticed her posted at the barracks with Sloan as he was returning back to his room. She had been animatedly describing something to her comrade, laughing as Sloan had snorted in return.

“I could really take a nice massage.” She rubbed her neck while rolling her shoulders.

Sy smiled at his girl. He was absolutely enamored with the red-haired, gun wielding beauty. A week ago, he had finally kissed her tantalizing lips after agonizing over the thought for so long. He had felt his heart swell, hypothetical butterflies fluttering in his belly. She had tasted sweet; her soft supple lips had glided perfectly against his. The dipping sun had casted a soft glow on her face, making her hair shine like tendrils of lustrous copper.

“Come here.” He commanded with a flick of his hand. Liv raised an eyebrow at him with her hand resting on her neck. Sy tilted his head with a smile as he waited for Liv to move. With a moment of hesitation, she took slow steps towards him. In the week that had followed after their first kiss, they had stolen some more chaste kisses around the camp. Both of them, without voicing their choices, had resorted to keep their budding relationship on the down low. Even if two of their own Sergeants were parading around, openly declaring their love for each other, Sy and Liv could not risk that kind of behavior. They were leaders of their units after all. As much as Sy would love to kiss Liv out in the open, there was a decorum to maintain and Liv agreed.

“Close the door first.” Sy nearly chuckled as Liv’s eyes widened and she hurried towards the worn-out wooden door to his office. Swiftly shutting it close, Liv walked back to him. Sy glanced at her expectant eyes looking down at him. He spread his legs out on the chair and opened his arms, inviting her to sit on his lap.

Liv shook her head at him, rolling her eyes and gracing him with her beautiful smile before climbing on his lap. She straddled him, her hands circling his neck as Sy looked into her golden orbs. He placed a peck on her lips and brought his hands up behind her to work on her tensed shoulders. He pressed down gently on her aching muscles, which elicited a low moan from her. The mellifluous undertone of her voice stirred an arousal in his loins, her thighs rubbing against his crotch not making it any better.

“Now where would you get your massage back home?” He asked, distracting himself with releasing the taut muscles of their tension.

“There’s this place in Tribeca that I frequent when I am on leave.”

Sy felt Liv’s body ease against his as he kneaded his way through her back. He watched as she closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of relaxation. Her warm breath washed over his face as Liv let out appreciative mewls as he rubbed the aching spot behind her neck. She clutched his t-shirt tightly in her hands as he increased the pressure on the sore spot. Her hips jerked forward, rubbing against his groin making Sy take in a sharp breath.

“Easy there, little birdie.” Sy breathed out. He brought one hand on her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone and making her open her eyes to look at him. A glint of mischief danced in her whiskey-colored eyes matched by the quirk of her lips. She rocked her hips lightly against his whilst bringing her hand to caress the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

A shuddering breath escaped Sy’s lips as Liv’s crotch rubbed against his waking arousal. He brought both of his hands down to her hips, grabbing them tightly and stilling her from performing her ministrations on him. Her lips drew out in a pout, her bottom lip sticking out in disapproval.

Sy would have wanted nothing but to take her in his office. Fleeting thoughts about her sensuous, naked body sprawled beneath him had made him jerk off in the privacy of his room. Imaginations had run particularly wild when two nights ago, Sy had pulled Liv into the empty gym hall in the dead of the night. He had pushed her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, capturing her in place. He was addicted to the feel of her hands on his chest, her lips on his and the breathy moans she elicited. Their chaste kisses had turned to a steamy make-out with tongue rolling against each other, hands grabbing at every inch of their bodies. He had kissed down her neck, pulling her shirt aside to run his warm tongue over her collarbone while Liv had palmed him over his shorts.

Sy knew they would have crossed the line if it wouldn’t have been for the night patrolling unit to come running down the stairs, just outside the gym.

“I think I should retire to my quarters.” Liv commented, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “I need a long night’s sleep.” She muttered against his skin, yawning again.

Sy ran his hand soothingly over her back. He held her close to his body, listening to her breathing as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was aware she was overworked. Besides running their main objective of fetching the food truck, she had also immersed herself in the work of the Special Forces. Liv made sure to go out to the village and speak to the inhabitants with Sy’s men, trying to understand their problems and sympathizing with them. To add to her schedule, Sy and Liv woke up early most mornings to catch the sunrise whilst drinking tea. It was like a routine for them and Sy wasn’t complaining. Although everything was sunshine and roses for them at the moment, he also wanted her to open up to him.

Sy had spilled about his entire life in front of her. He did not want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to know hers. His life was like an open book to her now but all he could do was read the title of hers. Liv was a closed off person, hiding behind snarky comebacks and friendly banter. Sy had tried asking about her life back home, but all he could gather was that she had a younger brother and her parents, all residing in New York.

He listened to her snore lightly as her arms fell down from around his neck. She felt feather light against his body, her lean thighs resting effortlessly over his thick ones. He couldn’t let her fall asleep on his lap for the night, but he decided to let her take a quick nap for a few minutes.

“You are so comfortable.” She mumbled after a few minutes. “Like a life-size teddy bear.”

Sy chuckled softly. Liv turned her face on his shoulder and started peppering kisses along Sy’s neck. He breathed in slowly, goosebumps rising on his arms. His shoulders were circled by Liv’s arms again, her hands resting lightly at the back of his neck. She left a wet trail of kisses from under his earlobe to the crook of his neck. Sy closed his eyes as desire stirred within him. He felt her breasts press against his chest as Liv arched her back while blowing her hot breath on his warm skin.

“Liv,” he drawled her name out. His hands rested on her waist pulling her closer to him.

Sy wanted to give his all to her. He wanted her to be his in ways more than one. But he knew so little about her. He wanted to connect to her, mind and body. Sy understood he was seen as someone who would sleep around, whoring his way around town. He was anything but.

“I don’t know anything about you.” He whispered out loud stilling Olivia in his arms.

She pushed herself away from him to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

Sy took a deep breath. He knew he would sound like an insistent, clingy boyfriend if he barraged her with questions about her life. Maybe it was too soon for them, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know her.

“I don’t know where you live and I’m not talking about the city.” He adds as her mouth opens to interject. “What about your family? Your friends? Your life outside the army?”

“Where is this coming from?” She tilted her head to the side and rested her hands on his chest.

“I told you about my first time in high school and so many embarrassing childhood memories. Things I haven’t told anyone before. Things people don’t expect me to remember.” He shook his head at himself, overwhelmed by his own vulnerability.

Olivia’s eyes softened as he blabbered about himself. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently rubbing his soft beard. “I feel honored to know such private details about your life. I’m not hiding anything.” He leaned against her hand, nodding in agreement. “Okay, so, I live in Brooklyn, not with my family. I have a whole of two friends outside the army and one distant cousin in Minneapolis. Schmidt is my best friend, as you must have noticed, and I didn’t go to college because I joined the army right after I graduated from high school.”

“You didn’t go to college?”

“Did you?” Her eyes widened at him.

Sy rubbed the back of his neck and adjusted in his seat. “I have a degree in political science.” He watched Liv’s mouth drop open and she blinked several times.

“Wow. You just got a whole lot sexier, Captain Syverson.” She leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips. “Lot more intelligent than silly me.”

Sy laughed at her silliness. He placed both of his hands on her cheeks and gazed at her, his eyes tracing every details of her face. His thumb grazed over her lips. He felt content with the new information about her life, but a particular question kept nagging him. “Were you with anyone before me?”

He watched as she shifted awkwardly on his lap. Her eyes dropped down to focus on his chest, her mouth pressing into a thin line. He looked at her with expectant eyes practically hearing the wheels turning in her mind.

“Everyone has a past.” She said, the mirth in her voice disappearing with her finger twisting in his t-shirt. “Let’s just say, for now, I shouldn’t have messed with someone’s feelings and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Sy could see she was uncomfortable talking about it. She refused to look him in the eye while she spoke, fixating on tracing circles on his chest instead. He brought his finger under her chin to make her look up. Her eyes held veiled emotions, silently pleading him to not coax her into talking about it any further. He smiled at her softly, nudging her nose with his.

“Okay.” He whispered, pecking her lips reassuringly. “Now you should go to bed. Food truck retrieval tomorrow.”

Sy let Liv climb off his lap, an emptiness filling his being at the loss of warmth from her body. He raked his gaze over the curve of her body as she stretched her arms above her head.

“See you in the morning?” She asked, walking towards the door. Her hand rested on the latch, waiting for his answer.

Sy nodded at her, watching as she opened the door and walked out into the corridor. The bustling sounds of the camp greeted his ears, bringing him back to the present, away from the cocoon he had with Liv.

That was twenty hours ago. The scorching desert heat beat down on him as they hurriedly drove to Camp Warhorse. Sy ached for those hours now. He wanted nothing more than to share more about her life. Engulf himself in her presence again. Comms blaring, commands coming from every direction. The SOS message from Echo team assigned to the food truck still rang in his ears.

"Chopper hit. We're under attack."

Sy’s heart was beating in his chest, thumping against his ribcage. Their engines roared as he pressed down on the accelerator, blowing sand as his tires skidded along the dirt road.

Blood chilled in his veins when the second message came through, clear in the chaos.

"Repeat, under attack. 3 wounded. 1 KIA."

Chapter Seven>

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

[mimik-u]

Flower Child, Chapter 19 (Blue IV)

AO3 Link

i.

Thursday, July 5th, 8:38AM:

Blue: Hello, Steven… how are you this morning?

Steven: tired.

Blue: I’m sorry.

Blue: Is there anything I can do?

Steven: no

Steven: I don’t think so

With one hand, Blue Diamond held her phone aloft and read Steven’s bare reply again and again. And with the other, she gently massaged her aching right hip, kneading her spiny knuckles gently over the bone beneath the thin layer of her nightgown. 

She’d slept on it the wrong way.

Had tossed and turned all night, nightmaring.

And she didn’t need a psychoanalyst to tell her what it meant that her dead daughter erupted from a wilting hibiscus flower before transforming into Steven Universe, who dissolved into petals as she tried to cling onto them both—her smile, his laugh, her freckles, his hair, all crumbling beneath her fingertips into pollen and pieces. Pearl’s words echoed in the dark chapel of her own head as she gathered the petals in her palms: “Start with a flower and a smile, perhaps.”

Help him, Blue.

Don’t look away.

(You’ve always been so good at looking away.)

In the end, she laid her phone facedown on the bed and rubbed her sore hip in the curtained darkness of her room for a few minutes longer. It was unclear to herself whether she was trying to soothe the pain or grate it in just a mica deeper, one sensitive knuckle movement at a time.

Either way, she was only giving herself what she deserved. 

Relief.

Injury.

And perhaps both at the exact same time.

A cocktail of them both—shaken, not stirred.

It was only when the alarm clock on the bedside table indicated that ten minutes had passed in silence and arthritic torture that she endeavored to apprehend her cane with both hands, violently wrenching herself into a standing position, briefly throwing her world into dizzying spirals. Blue closed her eyes against the initial nausea and told herself that she had to go on.

In so many more ways than just simply one.

She glanced fleetingly at the hibiscus that still remained on her nightstand, now withered around the edges, now graying, and thought to herself that perhaps she could save it if she acted fast, pressing it between the pages of a favorite book—an Austen, a Homer, a Kierkegaard.

Preserving it.

Start with a flower and a smile, perhaps.

Help him, Blue.

Don’t look away.

The sounds of her cane were muffled in the carpet as she made a detour to the bathroom to grab her robe, pulling on the worn garment like an old friend, the collar flush against her long neck. And then, her movements as stiff as they were laborious, she made her way from the bathroom back to the bedroom and then into the vast, empty hall—at the end of which the living room was framed in an arch of white, morning light. 

Clank, she barely glanced at the door leading into the study because she knew Yellow wouldn’t be in there.

The door was completely closed, which was a telltale sign in and of itself.

Clank.

Assorted images from the previous evening sifted through her head like grains of falling sand, salting her unsettled thoughts as she moved forward, her bare feet tracing the smooth wooden planks.

Clank.

They had sat in the backseat together on the car ride home from the hospital yesterday and dared to hold hands, fingers intertwining, palms touching.

Lifelines.

Yellow was as warm as Blue was cold, the gathering of their skin simply electric. 

Clank.

The sky outside the tinted glass windows had been the precise shade of a bruised peach—gold around the edges and a darker amber within. There were cream colored clouds that swirled and swirled through the ripening sky, becoming milky wisps in the places where they spread too thin.

Blue stared upwards into these vaulting heavens and thought fleetingly about beauty, how it could come from the most mundane of places.

In the continuous cycles of an ever-changing sky.

In children who gave flowers to random strangers at cemeteries.

In laughter.

In sadness.

Even in grief.

The fading light dusted the crown of her wife’s blonde head.

A slight frown pulled at her lips.

And there was great beauty and great sadness in this, too.

Paradoxes and contradictions.

“What are you thinking about?” Blue had asked, absently skimming her thumb along the side of Yellow’s hand, tracing every line, relearning every divot and groove.

“My luck,” Yellow returned in that familiar dry voice of hers. “That wreck could have been… disastrous.”

“Yes.” The word was hushed in her throat, cloistered, the possibilities that it engendered too much to bear: Yellow injured, Yellow dying, Yellow gone. The worst hypothetical had never felt more real to her than in the handful of hours that had elapsed between her doorbell ringing and rushing to the hospital in the dead of night.

With Pink, there had been no likewise chance.

No hospital to go to.

Only a morgue.

“Did… what’s her name… you know—the new valet—did she make it out alright? I forgot to ask.”

“She did,” Blue confirmed with a small nod. “Topaz—I mean. Only a few cuts on her face from what I understood. I gave her a temporary leave of absence.”

“Good,” Yellow sighed, relief palpable in her low voice. “Excellent.”

Her frown incrementally shifted, becoming the barest of smiles.

Subtle.

Almost easy to miss.

Clank.

They had ascended the elevator side by side, too, Yellow pulling her special keycard out from the pocket of her immaculately pressed shirt with fumbling fingers, and Blue could tell that she was tired by this uncharacteristic clumsiness alone.

“Let me,” she whispered before gently apprehending the card and slotting it into the reader that would grant them immediate access to their floor.

It was a tiny kindness.

Somehow, it was far more than that, too.

Yellow stared at her, eyes wide, and said, “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Blue murmured, a dull flush coloring her cheeks as she returned the card, slipping it back to where it belonged.

The doors opened slowly, welcoming the Diamonds home.

Clank.

Blue had insisted that Yellow sleep in the bed, that she needed a good night’s rest after all that she had been through, but Yellow was infuriatingly stubborn to the last—intransigent, inflexible, chivalrous—protesting that she didn’t want to aggravate Blue’s hip problem.

She’d be fine on the couch.

It only hit her later that night, as she laid in that bed that was much too big for her, that she could have invited her wife to come to bed with her.

But the thought scared her as much as it intrigued her.

She pushed it to the side, tabling it for a later date.

(Coward.)

Clank. 

The living room was dressed in a pale sunshine coat when Blue finally arrived at the very edge of it, her oceanic eyes washing over the scene until they lit upon Yellow Diamond, stretched beneath a thin blanket on the white couch, fast asleep, soft snores emitting from her half-open mouth.

In the hours that had elapsed, her wounds didn’t appear as angry as they had done yesterday, and there was already a little discoloration around the edges of her stitches that suggested that they were already beginning to do the complicated work of healing—as transitory wounds tended to do. 

Blue lifted the bottom of her cane now so it no longer thudded against the floor with each slow and deliberate footfall; she could retain her balance for that long, or, if she couldn’t, then she’d very well know it was likely time she had that hip replacement her physician kept threatening at each of her successive appointments.

But she didn’t waver.

Didn’t fall.

Miraculously refrained from breaking.

Long enough to reach the creamy ottoman in front of the couch, which Yellow had apparently used in lieu of a nightstand. Her reading glasses were folded neatly atop of yesterday’s copy of The Empire City Times, the crossword section right side up.

She’d almost finished it, lacking only two-across: ANTONYM OF CRUELTY.

And the answer, Blue Diamond could plainly see, was grace.

Fondness for her wife, exquisite and painful tenderness, unexpectedly erupted in the column of her throat—a rush of love, a flurrying sensation, spreading all over, both trickling water and raging fire, paradoxes and contradictions. And suddenly, all impulse, thought swept away by feeling, feeling unknotting her hesitant bones, Blue gingerly bent down and brushed the sharp line of Yellow’s jaw where sunlight had already scribbled itself in patches. She was a child running curious fingers along the edge of a forbidden shelf. She was a butterfly tentatively skimming a blade of grass. She was a broken mother trying to learn how to be unbroken again. She was a loving wife.

She hadn’t been intending to wake her—had only wanted to touch—but somewhere in the space of four awful years, Yellow had apparently learned to be a light sleeper. Her golden eyes flew open at the gesture, catching Blue in the act. 

“Blue,” she murmured, shocked, disbelieving, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced that she wasn’t dreaming. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Blue returned softly and at least had enough decency to look ashamed. (For what exactly? She wasn’t necessarily sure. Somehow, she just knew that it was a very shameful thing to touch her wife. To caress her gently after so many days and months and years of having not done it.) “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no,” Yellow protested, sitting up abruptly to make room for Blue on the half-rumpled couch. The movement must have been too sudden for her sore body because she briefly winced, glancing downwards at her leg. “I should be getting up anyway. What time is it anyway? Seven? Seven-thirty?”

Blue remembered the timestamp that had accompanied Steven’s last message, and a frown bruised her lips as she slowly lowered herself by her wife’s side, balancing herself on the head of her cane.

“Closer to nine, I believe.”

Yellow blinked once, disbelief turning to cross bemusement in the slightest shift of her brow as she searched for the truth in her wife’s long face.

“Seriously?”

“More or less.” Blue’s lips slightly rippled, and Yellow shook her head with disgust, the emotion snarling across her weathered face.

“I haven’t slept in past eight since I was in college,” she muttered, pushing a hand through her sleep-straggled hair. “Goodness, that’s unusual.”

“You were exhausted,” Blue proffered immediately, as though this was explanation and excuse enough, but Yellow only shook her head again, refusing her own defense just as quickly as Blue had risen to it.

“Not anymore than usual,” came the stubborn reply. There wasn’t argument in her voice, so much as there was an edge, inwardly pointed.

Because that was the thing about Yellow Diamond.

She saved her sharpest words for herself, lancing her own criticisms deep into her skin in order to forcibly teach herself how to do better the next day. Blue knew better than to challenge her when she did this, for Yellow did enough challenging to herself.

So she looked away and allowed Yellow to punish herself and lapsed into contemplative silence, thinking about Steven again, threading her fingers together on top of her robed lap: his sunken face, his lachrymose messages, his careworn caretakers, and all of their collectively haunted eyes. Even glancing out onto the sun-warmed balcony was enough to conjure the image of him sitting beside her in the chair that usually belonged to Yellow and eating one of Holly Agatha’s famous chocolate cakes.

The one he would later throw up.

Because he was sick.

Terribly so.

“Blue?” Yellow’s voice was soft, prodding, hesitant, awkward—full of all the dichotomies and contradictions that their relationship seemed to have been built on these last four years. They both loved each other.

Surely. 

Deeply. 

Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

They were equally afraid to say it aloud.

“Is something troubling you?”

Blue’s turned away from the balcony and faced her wife again—the stitches on her sharply hewn jaw, the complicated emotions in her golden eyes, the sharp set of her frown—and wondered what would happen if she simply told her the truth, if she laid it nakedly between them and simply waited for a response.

It was terrifying to be vulnerable with another.

Somehow, in the midst of everything, she remembered that it was necessary.

“Steven Universe,” she finally whispered, the name less like a name and more like a confession, gently handed over between the sliding partition in a wooden booth. “I’m worried about him. I talked to one of his guardians yesterday, and he isn’t… doing well.”

Yellow’s face grappled with the news, appearing far more stricken than Blue could have ever expected of her.

When she frowned, the lines beneath her eyes darkened and creased, making her appear ancient.

Haunted.

“I know,” she said unexpectedly.

“You do?” Blue couldn’t help herself—she arched an incredulous brow, and her wife’s cheeks promptly colored in response, the pink feathering the sickly purple of her bruises. It wasn’t a particularly handsome effect.

“I met him the other night,” she muttered, a little impish, a little stiff, glancing away. “I was curious. I wanted to know what he looked like.”

Blue didn’t know what was more astonishing—the fact that Yellow had visited Steven in the first place or the miraculousness of her actually admitting to it so plainly. Neither action seemed particularly characteristic to a woman who attempted to subjugate all of her emotions beneath the sleeves of her immaculately ironed shirt.

But she could see the truth of the words in the tense sobriety of her profile.

And she knew, from experience, that as astonishingly unlikely as it was for Yellow Diamond to visit a sickly child in the hospital, it was even less likely that she would lie about it in the first place.

And so Blue did what she could to collect her face, but she was fairly sure that trace remnants of her surprise still remained because her wife scoffed, the color of her cheekbones still a rosé red, sweet and mild.

“You don’t have to look so shocked.”

“I’m… I’m not shocked,” she protested immediately, her own features shading themselves in. “I’m just—”

But Blue Diamond, eloquent though she was, could not find another fitting word, and Yellow Diamond, seemingly despite her better judgment, laughed once, the sound harsh and warm in that airy, light-filled living room.

“Shocked,” she repeated emphatically, shaking her head.

“You’ve disarmed me before I’ve taken my morning tea,” Blue mumbled, a little petulance in her voice, a little play.

“Good,” Yellow sniffed, half-grimacing, half-smiling. “I’m glad to see I can still keep you on your toes.”

And then they both stared at each other—nakedly, unflinchingly—quite painfully aware that they were on the verge of making each other laugh for the first time in years, and the solemnity of the occasion brought them both back to themselves.

Blue frowned so easily that it was only muscle memory, primal reflex.

And Yellow followed suit, the sunlight raking itself across her wounded face.

“And what did you think of him?” Blue asked, both wanting the answer and dreading it. She slightly learned towards her wife; part of her wished to flee; and because she didn’t flee, because she stayed, the contradiction manifested as a twisting of her gut, a turning.

“A little impetuous…” Yellow said immediately, her voice low, distant with memory. “Annoyingly happy… but good, I think. Smart for his age. Kind. He almost reminded me of—”

But she caught herself just in time—stricken, terrified, revolted.

And Blue’s heart nearly failed with the simple proximity of her daughter’s ghost, of the closeness of her nearly evoked name.

But they danced through the horrible moment.

Silently. 

Together.

Yellow swallowed thickly, and Blue Diamond was merciful; she gently took her wife’s splinted hand.

“Pink,” she murmured softly, the word, the name, the ghost reverent on her tongue.

Holy.

“Those eyes,” Yellow croaked painfully, folding her fingers into the gaps between Blue’s own. “That wide smile.”

“I know,” Blue whispered. “I know.”

“I can see why you like him, Blue,” she said seriously. “He hooks you in.”

Blue’s mind worked far ahead of her. Even though she didn’t explicitly articulate it, even though she likely never would, it was clear that Yellow was amongst this number. 

She liked Steven Universe.

She cared.

“Before you even know it,” she agreed softly. “Before you’re even aware.”

“It’s all so very sudden,” Yellow muttered uncomfortably, frowning, a divot forming between her dark brow.

And Blue thought to herself, very quietly, that that was the nature of love, really. 

It was all so very sudden.

And beautiful and extraordinary and rare.

And sad and horrible and tragic.

And lasting.

Even when it happened suddenly.

(Even when it was suddenly taken away.)

“What isn’t in this world?” Blue murmured, and she gently skimmed the side of her wife’s hand with her thumb, watching as this simple revelation played out across her powerful features.

Smoothing them.

Sanding and softening all those rough edges.

“Frankly,” she finally said, smiling a little sadly, “I have no damn clue.”

ii.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a little elven girl, all tucked up in bed together, side by side by side. 

Blue ran her fingers through her daughter’s mass of curly hair as she snored lightly. Her tiny hand was curled into the front of Yellow’s pajama shirt, knobbly fingers twisted into the fabric, secure there. She’d fallen asleep protesting the need for sleep, trying to convince her mothers for one story more, and just as Blue had finally conceded—she rarely ever didn’t when it came to Pink—her hooded eyes drifted to a close beneath the gentle lamp-strewn haziness of the room, where she was warm.

Safe.

Loved.

For that was the crucial fact, the fundamental thing—Pink Diamond was loved most of all.

“We’re never going to have a sex life again, are we?” Yellow lamented, slanting a honey-eyed gaze at her wife over the top of Pink’s head.

Amusement in the expression.

Fondness.

Blue laughed lightly and could not help but play along, teasing her body upwards so that she was propped on her elbow, and she could look at her wife properly, drinking in the way she looked at ten o’clock at night, with her hair still a little wet from the shower. There was a certain gentleness in her hawklike face that she tended to eschew during the day around business colleagues, subordinates, and clients, but here, in the safety of their shared bedroom, it had always been implicitly understood that even birds of prey had to roost, too.

“It isn’t too late, you know,” Blue returned, her voice warm, low, suggestive . Yellow had started it after all; it was only fair that she finished. “We can simply move her to her own bed…”

“And chance waking her up again? Hell, no. It was an ordeal just getting her to sleep.”

“The couch is always an option.”

Yellow scoffed imperiously, poking her lips out in a magnificent imitation of her mother’s trademark pout.

“Every time we try that, one of us falls off the damn thing.”

“Hey,” Blue laughed again, causing a heavy strand of hair to fall from where it had been swept from behind her ear, “I wasn’t the one who vouched for hardwood floors.”

Yellow pulled on a faux-offended look like it was one of her favorite ties, dramatically starfishing one of her hands across her chest, exactly where her collared pajama shirt dipped into a vee.

“Well excuse me for thinking that carpet looks outdated.”

“You’re impossible,” Blue smiled gently, shaking her head.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is practical .”

And then, because it was late at night, and they were tired and being stupid, and there was a baby in the bed between them, the two of them caught each other’s eye and couldn’t help themselves, collapsing into laughter that was lovely and loud and ridiculous enough to make Pink briefly stir, her ears twitching irritably at the disturbance.

And then, because this was somehow incredibly funny even though it really, really wasn’t, they laughed some more—silently this time albeit—before eventually flicking off both of their lamps and wrapping their arms around their daughter in the cool darkness, fingers meeting precisely in the middle.

iii.

Friday, July 6th, 9:20AM:

Blue: Hello, Steven. Are you feeling better today?

Blue: If you are, I would love to come visit you again soon. 

Steven: not really

Steven: sorry, Blue

Saturday, July 7th, 9:51AM:

Blue: Just checking in, sweet boy. Respond only when you feel up to it.

Blue: And if that’s not at all… that is perfectly okay, too.

They took their tea and coffee out on the balcony, Blue assuming the right armchair and Yellow the left, and somehow, there was both a rightness and a wrongness to these simple actions.

Because this was new.

And yet, achingly familiar.

One week ago today, they danced this same vicious dance, drinking coffee, drinking tea, sitting in these chairs, appropriating a sense of normality that they did not feel. And the memory of their failed ruse swallowed a lot of the precious oxygen in the air, making it hard for either of them to speak. Blue spidered her hand across her sternum, the tips of her long fingers touching spiny collarbone, and tried to remind herself how to breathe.

Yellow was more finicky in her discomfort, her careworn face drawn as she bobbed her left leg up and down, the heel of her slipper flicking arrhythmically against the smooth floor. And the sun that she stared at was the precise color of a healing bruise, pale ochre against a silver sky. And the bruises on her angularly hewn face were mottled in the strange light, pulsing like miniature supernovas, burning, gradually dulling.

“I heard it was going to rain tomorrow,” the businesswoman eventually said, and it was clear from the way that her voice was clipped that she didn’t really want to talk about the weather.

“I saw that, too,” Blue Diamond replied in a low voice. “On the news, I believe.” She had seen no such thing, in fact, but they were talking again, she and Yellow, and that was something that would occasionally take baby steps.

Weather talk.

Mere pleasantries.

Scratching the deep, dark surfaces with fingernails.

But then, because the weather could only take them so far, they lapsed into a silence that was its own person, sitting indelicately in the space between them.

Pink hair.

Constellation freckles.

A black hoodie.

A mischievous smile.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a little elven girl, who hadn’t been so little anymore—not really. She’d been tall and willowy and full of passion for a life she had yet to live. She’d been twenty-one, but both of her mothers had treated her like she was twelve. 

And they loved her, but they suffocated her. 

And they loved her, but they ignored her. 

And they loved her, but the awful and unbearable truth of the matter was that love was not enough. 

Love was the foundation, but it had to be built upon with care and attentiveness—with perceptive eyes and willing ears and flexible hearts. It required sacrifice. It demanded compromise. Mutability. Vulnerability. Change.

And so Blue and Yellow loved Pink Diamond, down to their marrow, down to all the atoms in their four hundred and twelve collective bones, but they failed her in so many of those other important respects. 

And they paid the steep price.

Because once upon a time, the little elven girl who wasn’t so little anymore had had enough of her own fairytale and dreamed of carving out another.

She sought freedom and adventure.

She was daring; she wished to rebel.

But when she did for the first time (and the last), when she snuck out of her palace of a room, there were monsters out there, and nothing in the world had ever prepared her for monsters—not even her parents, who had slain their fair share of monsters: dragons and greedy businessmen and hardhearted mothers.

And so she died, and the princess and the knight were left alone in their high tower to lose their goddamn minds.

In separate rooms.

Away from each other.

They mourned and mourned and mourned.

And on that sun-paled balcony, before she knew it, before she could stop herself, Blue Diamond’s eyes were pooling with hot tears. She tried to swipe them away, so Yellow wouldn’t see, wouldn’t chide her, wouldn’t scold, but Yellow had already seen—of course she had already seen—and her golden eyes were wide.

Lined.

Horror-struck.

“I’m sorry,” Blue pleaded reflexively, covering her face with her tall hands. She was always so very sorry. “I was just... I was thinking of her and I couldn’t help it... and I’m—“

“Don’t apologize, Blue,” Yellow cut across her hoarsely, her voice a sharp knife on the edge of breaking. “Don’t ever feel like you have to apologize to me.”

But Blue didn’t think that this was a particularly healthy way of looking at things either. There were so many things she felt the need to apologize for.

(All of them had to do with looking away.)

“But—“

“Because I was thinking about her, too.” 

The sentence was an admission, rushed, expulsive, thrown to the floor like it was a bomb ready to ignite.

Yellow abruptly flinched, and Blue did, too, waiting for the aftermath of the blow that didn’t quite come. 

So now there was an invisible body in the space between them and a ticking time bomb on the floor. 

Company was always diverse in the Diamonds’ penthouse suite.

Perpetually attuned to their self-made demons.

“You were?” Blue’s voice verged on the edge of offensively wondrous. She dared to look at her wife in the gaps between her fingers, slicing her statuesque profile into vees. Her stern jaw. Her world-weary eyes. The lines crisscrossing her face. The defeated hunch of her Atlantean shoulders.

Blue pulled her fingers downwards until they were tightly clenching the lapels of her robe, fingers sinking into the thin fabric, knuckles turning white at the grip.

“How could I not be?” Each word was acerbic, gritted through the teeth, self-loathing. “Just last week, we did this, too, and I hurt you then… I’ve hurt you so many times over Pink. I should be the one who is saying sorry.”

Yellow looked over then, her face desperately open, as though she was trying to convey the force of her raw penance by expression alone.

How tortured she was.

How craven.

Feral.

Agonized.

Undone.

“And I am sorry, Blue,” she continued, the lines beneath her eyes contracting harshly. “I am so sorry—for every wrong I’ve ever done to you. For every time I’ve made you feel wrong for grieving Pink. I… I have no excuse, no semblance of a justification… I just…” But she violently interrupted herself, her ferociousness seemingly drained from her body as she jerked forward, elbows on her knees, dragging a hand across the whole of her face, uncaring of her stitches.

And she remained like that for what felt like an eternity, a statue ruined, palm covering her mouth

Staring wide-eyed into space.

Into an awfully bruised sky.

Blue Diamond’s entire nervous system was in total disrepair as she looked at her wife.

And tried to comprehend the words she had just said, the very ones she had resigned herself to never hearing. 

Because for all the four years that she had grieved and grieved, Yellow had been right there beside her, insisting that she should get a grip on herself, should get better, should move on.

And here was the apology for all those awful words.

Here was the proof that they had existed, and that they had injured, and that they had hurt.

The creased skin around Yellow’s eyes was damp.

Her robed shoulders trembled.

“Yellow Clytemnestra Diamond,” Blue finally whispered, the name less invocation than it was admonition, less admonition than it was cruelty, less cruelty than it was love, “you cannot honestly believe that it is that simple.”

That caught her attention.

Yellow jerked her head in Blue’s direction so quickly that it looked painful.

“What?”

“Can’t you see?” She asked, a pleading note in her voice as she leaned a little across the gap between their chairs, her silvery hair falling in loose gossamer curtains around her face. “It isn’t all just you, and it isn’t all just me either. It’s both of us. Together. My God and my goodness, it always has been.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Yellow snapped, her face leached of its color as she scrabbled for purchase, for a reasonable ledge upon which to mount her own cross. “You were grieving, and I kept pushing you. I couldn’t stand watching you fall apart.”

“But you were grieving, too, Yellow!” Blue all but shrieked, desperate to impress upon her wife how important it was to acknowledge the unplumbed depths of her pain.

To own it, by God.

To share it.

Because she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

She couldn’t bear to be.

“You were hurting, and you were sad,” she continued unrestrainedly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes again. She made no attempt to brush them away this time. “And I was so cruel, Yellow. I wanted you to acknowledge it for my own selfish reasons, and then, at the very same time, I was desperate to push you away. You hurt me, but fundamentally, I hurt you, too, and you can’t just… you can’t take away our history like that. You can’t shoulder all these four years on your own. It doesn’t work like that. Love doesn’t! Marriage doesn’t! We don’t!”

Blue Diamond’s chest heaved painfully at the end of all this, as though she had just run a marathon. She rubbed her sternum again, trying to excise the damage, but there was so much of it there—so many hundreds of days worth—and she was so tired.

Exhausted.

But still, there was more to be said; there were mountains between hers and Yellow Diamond’s chairs.

Insurmountable oceans.

And Yellow was frozen, a monument to her own colossal grief.

Stone.

Leaking stone.

She had fountains for eyes; they dripped and dripped.

“And we hurt Pink,” Blue whispered, closing her eyes against this final, horrible truth as the tears continued to lance down her long face, salting her cracked lips. “Oh, my God, how we hurt that poor child. She wanted so badly to grow up, and we wouldn’t let her. We looked away. And that’s what I think about every time I close my eyes, Yellow. Her last words to me echo perpetually in the dark of my head.”

You’ll never let me grow up, will you?

She couldn’t help herself then; she let out a bitter sob, wrenched to her very core.

Because their daughter was dead and never coming back, and the pain of that simple fact would haunt her until the day she died, the memories of her so many thousands of scattered ghosts.

Eternal.

Omnipresent.

Her own constructed gods to worship and to fear.

“I was grieving,” Yellow confessed hoarsely, and the naked baldness of it forced Blue to open her eyes again to take a look. Her wife was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, fingers dug into the thighs of her pajama pants. Without her trademark three piece suit, without her makeup, without her man-killing heels, she seemed so much smaller than usual—less adamantine, more human. “And I hurt you.”

“Yes,” Blue said simply.

It was a mere syllable; it cost everything in her to utter it.

“And you were grieving… and you didn’t mean to… but you… you hurt me, too.”

“But sometimes,” Blue reminded her gently, the words awful on her lilting tongue, “I absolutely did mean to. I wanted to hurt you, Yellow… I wanted you to feel the barest inch of pain that I felt and suffer with me. Us. Together.”

Yellow looked like she didn’t know what to say to that, so she ignored it, striking the heel of one of her hands across her running face, sniffing harshly.

“And we hurt Pink,” she carried on, this unforgivable truth the salt in the exposed wound. Yellow’s voice broke at the end as the pain of it simply burned. “We hurt her so many times over.”

There was only one possible answer to this leveled charge, too.

“Yes.”

Yellow closed her eyes against this final condemnation, wincing harshly, as though skewered through with a sword. Her jaw was red in the place where she’d tried to wipe away the tears that still continued to flow down her angular face.

“So what do we do now?” She asked, and the question was almost childish in her stringent voice. The desperation in her golden eyes pleaded for an answer, a foundation upon which to stand. “Where the hell do we even go from here?”

It was a simple question at the same time that it was a loaded one.

It engendered the possibilities of more pain, dissolution, and grief.

The startling potentiality that neither Blue nor Yellow Diamond would ever recover from the loss of their only child.

Their shared tomb of a bleak and horrible future.

But there was hope there, too.

The startling possibility of it.

The barest potentiality.

Small.

Slight.

Goddamn miraculous even.

But there.

Taught first to Blue Diamond by a boy in a cemetery, so many days upon long, aching days ago.

Thinking clearly for the first time in four years or perhaps not thinking straight at all, the fifty-five year old woman tenderly reached her shaking hand across the gap between their chairs and held her palm upwards as though it had a flower in it, inviting her wife’s fingers to fill in the empty spaces, to imagine a conceivable future where they could one day hold hands and be content.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice also quite childish, the words so very small. “But wherever it is, Yellow, let’s go together.”

To heaven.

To hell.

To the grave.

To their golden years.

Yellow stared at her open hand for the longest fraction of an infinity, and there was exquisite agony in her eyes, painful tenderness, too.

Paradoxes and contradictions.

“Okay,” she finally whispered, taking Blue Diamond’s hand, interlinking their long fingers.

“Okay.”

iv.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a night that seemed to swallow them both entirely whole.

Because White Diamond wasn’t doing well. 

Her live-in nurse had called Yellow just today and told her that some days were worse than others, and worse days were become less exception than the rule; she was often agitated, frustrated, terrified, confused; she thought that Yellow was still at boarding school; she saw shadows of strange men on the alabaster walls; she missed her own mother, who had been dead for some forty-odd years; she wanted to send her dearest Starlight a postcard from Paris.

As they laid in bed together in the darkness, Blue wrapped her arms around her wife’s tense body, pressing soft lips against her pillow-rumpled hair.

“Mother always said that she wanted a grand funeral when her time came,” Yellow said stiffly, each word yanked from behind gritted teeth. “If her casket cost less than a hundred grand, she’d haunt me from the aether for the rest of my life.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Blue sighed, a little sad, a little amused, a little fond. Her mother-in-law had always been quite the character, larger than life, always meticulously dressed in Gucci jumpsuits that were more expensive than most people’s home mortgages. 

“She wants to be buried in the same crypt as my grandparents naturally,” Yellow continued in that same halting voice, “and I told her that she was being ridiculous. Someone would have to knock out a damn wall to fit another casket in there.”

But Blue knew her wife too well, perhaps better than she knew herself sometimes with her obstinate avoidance of all things introspective in nature.

“My colleague’s husband is a contractor,” she said gently, skimming her fingers up and down Yellow’s sleeved arm. “I can get a quote for you on Monday...?”

“Mm,” came a noncommittal grunt, which Blue correctly interpreted as reluctant assent.

The silence laid thickly upon the two women then.

Seconds passed.

Electric minutes.

Blue could almost feel the tension agitating Yellow’s bones.

And then—

“We should talk about our own burial plans one day in the near future,” she said brusquely. “At the very least, we need to have the Zircons codify our basic intentions into a will.”

Blue stared at the back of her wife’s head incredulously, eyes wide, her dark brow contracting somewhere in the middle. With some effort, she extricated her arms from around her, so that she could prop herself up on one elbow more easily.

“Yellow Clytemnestra Diamond,” she whispered, unable to quite keep the emotion from her voice, the rising pitch, “what on Earth do you mean? We’re not even fifty yet.”

Goodness, they were barely forty. 

“Accidents happen all the time,” Yellow reasoned sagely, rolling around to face Blue properly, “and I want to leave Pink with a clear blueprint. Otherwise, you and I might end up in neon pink caskets as Weezer plays over our grave.”

“How serious of you,” Blue quipped, lowering herself down to the pillow again so that they were at eye level. In the barest light that seeped through the curtains, she saw that there were tired lines scoring Yellow’s face, straining shadows. 

“I’m being completely serious,” she protested shortly. “Not about Weezer, perhaps, but the fact that we should have solidified plans.”

Abstractly, Blue knew she was correct—it was only common sense for them to put their affairs in order, even if they were young, and perhaps especially while they were. And yet, she had a feeling that this particular topic of conversation wasn’t strictly about the common sense of it, the practicality, the realism.

It was more so about the haunted look in Yellow’s eyes.

And the stiffness of her body.

And her sick mother.

Assuredly, it was about grief.

“Yellow,” Blue only whispered, reaching across the barest gap between them and placing the palm of her hand on the woman’s warm cheek. Her thumb cradled that imperial jaw, tracing its harsh geometry, loving it softly.

And Yellow Diamond immediately jerked, as though stung by such a gentle, careful touch, but ultimately, she didn’t move away from it.

She leaned into it, in fact.

And closed her dark-stricken eyes.

Sighing.

“Sorry,” she muttered thickly. “I was being morbid... I just... it’s all becoming real to me, I think...”

Blue remained silent in this awful darkness, simply listening, simply holding her wife’s face. 

“The inevitability that one day, my mother isn’t going to call me on the phone to chew my ass out about the company again... she’s just always been so stubborn, so implacable, that to imagine her as anything else is...”

But she trailed off, opening her eyes again. They were strangely filmy, bright but simultaneously dull.

“Well, you know what it is,” she finished awkwardly.

The words sprung immediately to Blue’s clever and elocutionary mind: unbearable, unfathomable, cruel.

She decided quickly, though, against saying any of them aloud; thinking them was punishment enough.

“I know,” she whispered, continuing to study the planes of her wife’s jaw by touch alone. She chose not to say anything when there was sudden dampness on the side of her hand.

“What do I do, Blue? The question was hushed, strangled, barely articulated into the night. “What happens next?”

Blue Diamond didn’t particularly know grief yet, the harrowing nature of it, its iron-sharp teeth.

And so that was the only answer she could give her wife in the end, as intelligent as she was, as intuitive, and as sensitive to the natures of others.

“I don’t know,” she admitted gently, “but I promise you, Yellow Diamond, I’ll be by your side through all of it.”

In sickness and in health.

’Til death did them part.

’Til Weezer apparently one day played over their grave.

“How sentimental of you,” Yellow laughed humorlessly in a failure of an attempt to hide that she was touched.

Blue leaned over then and pressed her lips against Yellow’s cool forehead, fingers still cupping her face. And when the stalwart general of a businesswoman’s entire body shuddered, she was merciful again; she pretended not to notice.

“Yes.”

v.

Tuesday, July 10th, 7:22PM:

Steven: i’m sorry for just getting back to you, Blue. It’s been a rough couple of days.

Blue: I know how that feels.

Steven: it’s just kinda hard to get outta my own head right now.

Blue typed and sent her reply just as the door leading into the penthouse suite abruptly swung open: I know how that feels, too.

When she glanced up from her phone from where she was sitting on the couch, Yellow Diamond was limping through the threshold in such a way that it was painfully obvious that she was trying to hide that she was limping—holding her shoulders ridiculously straight and grimacing as though to subjugate any pain she was feeling in the firm press of her mouth.

Though she was dressed in a button down with black slacks and a suit vest to match, she wasn’t quite coming home from work; rather—as she’d told Poppy to tell Blue earlier that morning—she had been at the hospital all day.

Doing some more tests.

Placing her phone facedown on the nearby end table, Blue narrowed her eyes in what she hoped was sympathy but probably more so resembled fear.

“Yellow?” She asked softly, her voice small and tremulous and terrified of its own aggrandized shadow. She loathed herself; she didn’t know how to be anyone other than herself. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” came the immediate and stubborn reply as the woman shuffled over to the couch, her face unbending in unsubtle relief when she finally collapsed into a sitting position. Her palm immediately went to her right thigh, which Blue knew had been the one heavily bruised in the accident.

Blue’s brow bent pointedly over her arctic eyes.

Coldly.

“No,” Yellow amended herself, abashed, embarrassed, sniffing haughtily. “It’s only my leg, though. I was on it too much today.”

“I told you you could borrow my cane.”

“And I told you that that was the last thing I wanted to do,” she muttered, flushing, continuing to rub the inflicted area. “Besides, you need it more.”

Because it was always a competition between them—who was suffering the most. And for some odd and likely unhealthy reason, it was one competition that the ambitious CEO didn’t like to win.

Blue sighed heavily at this silent observation, disturbing the heavy braid that was slung across her shoulder, before slowly pulling herself upwards from the couch, drawing her wife’s incredulous, harried gaze.

“Wait! I didn’t mean for you to leave—”

But Blue only shook her head, quelling Yellow’s protests with the gesture, before slowly hobbling over to the kitchen and slowly hobbling back, this time bearing the ice pack that she sometimes took to bed with her and a gray towel to wrap around it. Using the head of her cane cane as leverage, knuckling it tightly, she nudged the white ottoman towards Yellow with her good knee until it was right in front of her.

“Prop your bad leg up,” she commanded quietly, her voice taking on that same authoritative note that she had once used with her pupils. “Elevating your leg will help drain some of the tension from it.”

And like the best of the headmistress’s former pupils, Yellow knew it was best to swiftly comply.

Laboriously, with obvious discomfort, she used her hands to drag her right leg onto the ottoman, wincing a little with each microscopic adjustment of her thigh. Blue, careful to give the limb wide berth, lowered herself down to the ottoman, too, where she encased the ice pack in the towel, neatly tucking the ends in together so that the cloth wouldn’t unloose itself.

Yellow watched all of this with offensively wide eyes, staring at Blue as though she was turning water into wine or doing somersaults in the middle of the living room. Self-conscious, hyperconscious, anxious, painfully aware, she tucked a stray strand of silvery hair behind her ear and tried not to pay attention to her as she gently pressed the ice pack against her leg, meticulous to cover the entirety of the affected area.

“Cold helps,” she only proffered in explanation. “I can instruct one of the maids to change it out for a new one in a few hours or so.”

“Thank you, Blue.” Yellow’s voice was constricted, tender, raw.

Blue didn’t think she deserved such an outpouring of emotion for such a simple task, this tiny, most minuscule of kindnesses; she glanced away, feathers of color dusting her hollowed cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” she returned gently. “You would do the same for me…”

A slight pause.

Loaded.

Unbearable.

She felt the need to extinguish it at once.

“You have done the same for me,” she added with quiet forcefulness, still not quite looking in Yellow’s direction, drawing both of her hands into her lap. They were cold now from handling the ice pack, rigid and stiff. 

“So many times over.”

After all, how many times had Yellow Diamond sat vigil by her bedside in these past four years? Bathed her? Accompanied her to doctor’s appointments? Taken care of her the best way she knew how?

The number was unfathomable to Blue, innumerable even—both from a lack of attention and from the stunning knowledge that indeed, there were probably too many times to count.

There was a shifting noise then—Yellow adjusting herself on the couch, perhaps—and when Blue finally forced herself to glance up, she could see that there was a rumpled look in her wife’s eyes—the same messiness of an unironed collar, the stain of tea spilt on a tiled floor. She had jerked forward as though to reach out and touch Blue, but the position of her extended leg had made it difficult.

“But I could have done so much more, Blue,” she said softly, with quiet pain, the barren and fervent truth of it shining in those liquid gold eyes. “I watched you suffer more than I ever helped you… I’m so sorry.”

And when Blue immediately opened her mouth to protest, to rearticulate that it wasn’t as straightforward as that, that they had both done inconceivable wrongs to each other, that Yellow had done the best that she could, Yellow shook her head ferociously, her aspect taking on that same indefinable sense of authority which had so permeated her reign as the CEO of Diamond Electric.

And like the wisest of Yellow’s colleagues, Blue knew when it was best to simply stand down.

“No! I’ve been thinking about this,” she continued doggedly, “and I’ve come to the conclusion that just because we’ve both hurt each other doesn’t very well cancel out the fact that we did. That’s asinine, Blue—fallacious logic. I hurt you. I pushed you away. I didn’t want to acknowledge your grief for the inglorious reason that if I did, I would have to acknowledge my goddamn own.”

She raised her voice only at the end, flinching when she did, looking away.

The pale light flooding down from the strips in the ceiling cast strange shadows across her beaten face, and Blue Diamond’s heart bruised with the utter surreality of it all.

The confession.

The accountability.

The simple agony in Yellow’s voice, laid bare.

There were no barriers between them now, no walls, no facades, no meticulously constructed pretenses—only words.

Words and words and words.

Yellow Diamond had been there for Blue in so many different ways in four years… but she had hurt Blue so many times in so many different ways, too, and that was apparently something that neither of them were allowed to forget.

How many times had Blue laid in the horrible dark by herself, silent tears streaming down her face weathered? And how many times had Yellow insisted to her physician do up her meds, as though the underlying problem of grief could be treated first and foremost with a pill? How many times had her wife raised her voice at her—so devastatingly harsh, aloof, and cruel?

The number was unfathomable, innumerable.

Blue could not immediately swallow the lump in her throat.

“I… I remember thinking that if I could just keep myself together on the outside,” Yellow half-whispered, “I could be strong enough for both of us. I couldn’t bear being weak.”

And she flexed her fists on top of her powerful thighs, scraped knuckles trembling.

And she somehow found enough courage to look Blue in the eye.

And Blue stared at her right back, her eyes melting with awful tears.

“Grief isn’t weakness, Yellow,” she said ardently, with all the conviction she could muster, with all the atoms in her broken body.

Because she knew grief; she understood it; it was her closest companion, her very best and most horrible friend.

Yellow sniffed and swiped a hand across her face as though it would do anything, as though it would annihilate the over-brightness of her eyes.

“What is it then?” She asked, and from the quiet tone of her voice, Blue thought that she’d already guessed the answer.

But she said it aloud anyway, for both of them to hear and to know and to never forget again.

She reached over and gently took her lover’s hand and whispered, “Love.”

Tuesday, July 10, 9:02PM:

Blue: It’s such a hard feeling to contend with, sweet boy—the feeling of everything, the feeling of nothing, the feeling of drowning in the empty space of your own head.

Blue: I was there.

Blue: Some days, I still am.

Blue: But please know, Steven Universe, that I am here for you.

Blue: So many people are here for you.

Wednesday, July 11, 6:58AM:

Steven: thank you, Blue

vi.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a dead queen to mourn and to bury in a one-hundred thousand dollar casket.

On the day that White Diamond died, Blue washed her wife’s hair when they showered together that night, rubbing her fingers gingerly across her scalp as the steaming water broke across the crowns of both of their heads.

Yellow braced her shaking hands against the marbled walls and tried not to make so much as a sound.

Her shoulder blades were knife-sharp with the excruciating tension of holding herself together.

(Of not falling apart.)

Blue kissed the skin right between the middle of those tremulous mountains and scrubbed those places tenderly, too.

And when they dressed in their pajamas and went to bed together later on, loosely intertwining hands and painfully letting go, Pink Diamond came in, wearing one of Yellow’s old t-shirts as a gown, and wrapped her arms around Blue’s neck first, pressing a gentle kiss against her head. Her dark eyes were red from where she had been crying, for she had loved her Gran dearly, even if the eighty-five year old woman had taken habitual offense to the teenager’s choices of music. 

“Goodnight, Mom.”

Blue closed her eyes in her daughter’s warm embrace and inhaled the scent of her floral shampoo.

“Goodnight, Pink.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.

She used to say it so easily then, and she said it so often, too.

It was commonplace.

It was habit.

(What had ever happened in the intervening years? Blue Diamond, to her eternal condemnation, could not know.)

And then the sixteen-year old dutifully shuffled over to the other side of the bed, where Yellow was sitting on the edge, staring blankly into space, the lines beneath her eyes stark, as though dictated in black ink. And Pink wrapped her arms around her other mother, too, burying her nose against that tall column of a neck.

Tears flowing down her freckled face, she whispered, loud enough for Blue to hear, “I’m so sorry, Momma.”

Yellow Diamond didn’t seem capable of moving a muscle at that very moment, more statue than human, obelisk-like, calcified.

But Blue watched as their beautiful daughter squeezed all the tighter, uncaring that she was meeting stone, her slender shoulders wrenching with a sob.

“I’m going to miss her, too.”

Yellow hadn’t cried since she had first gotten the call earlier that morning, and she didn’t start then either; Blue knew her too well; she was desperately afraid to be vulnerable for anyone to see. 

And yet, with slow rigidity, with a tenderness that almost did not befit her, labored though it was, the businesswoman reached upwards and encircled her arms around her daughter, drawing the sixteen-year old girl into her lap as though she was that same child who had perpetually come into her mothers’ room after a bad nightmare.

“Shh,” she croaked, and there was pain in her fractured voice.

Pronounced agony.

Love.

Blue’s heart stuttered at the sight and at the sound.

“Shh, Pink,” she repeated, cradling her child, tangling her fingers in that wild, pink hair. “I’m here.”

vii.

Thursday, July 12, 7:12PM:

Steven: hey Blue?

Blue: Yes, Steven?

Steven: You can come visit me tomorrow if you want.

Steven: Would morning be okay? 9:00 maybe? I think they have some more tests to do on me in the afternoon

Blue: I’ll be there.

The summer evening was flush with soft colors—pink and indigo and aegean blue, all bleeding into each other, all melting, until the sky was falling with hazy radiance, white stars dotting the sky like angels in the night. Blue was on the balcony when Yellow arrived home, listening to a familiar piano arrangement that was playing on the classical radio station; the portable stereo was sitting on the table between the chairs.

“You’ve always liked this one,” Yellow said fondly, and when Blue turned around, she saw that her wife was leaning against the sliding glass doorway, dressed as impeccably as usual in a black button down and well-tailored khakis. The collar of her shirt was popped up around her sinewy neck, and there was a manila folder tucked neatly beneath her unhurt arm. She’d spent yet another day at the hospital, doing heavens only knew what. 

At least she wasn’t coming home with any new injuries, though. 

“Debussy?”

“Chopin,” Blue smiled faintly, and the gesture stretched a little stiffly across her unpracticed lips. “Nocturne in E Flat Major… I used to play it at my parents’ estate for our guests…”

“You used to get so frustrated when you pressed the wrong key,” Yellow teased as she pushed herself off of the door and ambled over. She didn’t quite sit down in her chair, but rather placed the manila folder down in front of the stereo before straightening up again, her silhouette tall in the burgeoning night. “Your brow would furrow just in the middle before you’d start all over again, intent on getting it right this time…”

Blue Diamond’s heart gently pulsed in her throat as she stared upwards at this figure she knew so well—so stern and so simultaneously magnanimous, so magnificent and so undeniably… broken, the lines beneath her eyes fixed scars, her face an angular canvas for cuts and oddly healing bruises.

“I’ve always been a perfectionist, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

Yellow drew a purposeful step closer, and Blue instinctively leaned back, her stomach clenching against wild and irrational and warranted fright.

“Yellow…”

Because then, with a little awkwardness in her eyes, with a hell of a lot of fear, Yellow Diamond slowly proffered her hand, the metal band of her watch catching in the golden light that illumined the balcony.

There was no mistaking the gesture.

It was an invitation.

“The song’s almost over,” Blue whispered, her throat savanna-dry.

“So?” Yellow meant it to be casual, Blue inferred, but the sound came out too agitated. Color leaked from the sky and seemed to scribble the hollows of her cheeks in. “That’s never stopped us before.”

She was embarrassed.

It was adorable.

And strange.

And oddly sad.

And so, Blue Diamond swallowed her fears.

She took her wife’s hand in the star-strewn darkness.

They could be embarrassed and strange and oddly sad together.

Relief shattering her face, Yellow leaned forward then and wrapped her arms around Blue to help her stand, going slowly, with all consummate gentleness. Their bodies were so close that they could hear the hummingbird beating of each other’s hearts—loud, quick, and desperately afraid.

Blue placed her chin on Yellow’s shoulder and allowed herself to be held by her wife for the first time in four years.

The thought and the sensation nearly made her want to cry.

Yellow Diamond led them slowly and carefully as the arrangement lolled through its sweeping notes. With Blue’s bad hip and Yellow’s sore leg, they couldn’t do much more than turn around in careful circles.

Once upon a time, they would have both sworn that they could out-waltz a king.

“I had an interesting day today,” Yellow said suddenly, as though this was explanation enough for why she was dancing with her wife. Her breath was warm against the tip of Blue’s right ear.

“Oh?”

“Indeed,” she nodded, her chin briefly pressing against Blue’s shoulder, “but I’ll have to tell you about it later, I’m afraid.”

“You’re such a tease,” Blue murmured, but the accusation didn’t come out quite as light as she wanted it to. Her voice shook, and her hands trembled where they were resting on the woman’s back.

Tears danced in her sea-dark eyes.

“Something of the sort, yes.”

The song continued on, but it was nearing its beautiful end—a series of high-lilting lifts and then a final, graceful fall.

Blue greeted every note like it was an old friend, long lost at sea, now come home.

“I’m going to see Steven tomorrow,” she whispered as they continued to draw their slow circle upon the floor. “Early. He asked me to come visit.”

A slight pause.

The piano tinkled a spray of final notes.

And then, there was silence.

“I don’t think his head is in a good place.”

The silence made the proclamation all the more wretched.

Yellow stopped them in their place but didn’t quite let go of Blue, her fingers curling into the thin fabric of her dress.

“I don’t find that hard to believe,” she murmured. “We wouldn’t be in a good place either if…”

But rightfully so, she let the end of that particular hypothetical trail off into the night, for Yellow and Blue Diamond both weren’t in a good place either yet. They were dancing, and they were tentatively smiling, and they were learning how to love each other all over again.

But that was only the beginning.

The start of another piano arrangement began to rise softly from the stereo.

“Bach,” Blue said automatically to smooth the rough moment over. “One of the Goldberg Variations, I believe.”

And so they began their gentle revolutions again, swaying, barely moving their feet to the solemn melody. The wind ran its fingers across them, stirring Blue’s heavy braid, ruffling the collar of Yellow’s shirt.

“Do you know what you're going to say to him?”

It was a remarkably intrusive question, or perhaps it very well wasn’t. Perhaps Blue was judging off the standard that four years of standoffishness from her wife had taught her so emphatically. The questions she most associated with Yellow now largely had to do with whether or not she’d taken all her pills.

She shivered a little, even though the air was mild.

“No,” she replied, closing her sunken eyes. “I haven’t the faintest idea…”

She hadn’t been able to rouse herself out of four years of grief; despite whatever Pearl seemed to believe, she wasn’t entirely sure that she possessed the words that would be enough to help Steven Universe. For even he hadn’t given her words that fateful day in the cemetery.

He’d given her kindness.

He’d given her a flower.

“You’ll figure it out,” Yellow said with an assuredness that made Blue’s heart flutter again. It was a wonder that she could even breathe.

“You say that with such confidence on my behalf.”

And as Bach’s mournful contemplation scored that profound night, Yellow Diamond drew back, so that Blue could see her face, every sharply drawn facet of it, illuminated in that softly scattered lamplight—fifty-six years of life, pressed into the layers of her skin, lines and shadows and lines. These were the lines that had formed beneath her eyes when their daughter first died. And there was the cut that raced across the bridge of her nose from the car accident. And here were the stitches that currently served as a memento of that scary night, too. And there were the slight parentheses formed around her mouth whenever she frowned, relics of time and age and grief.

Her golden eyes were bright with emotion and ancient with the weight of so many passed years.

“Because I know you,” she returned simply, “and I love you.”

They were merely three words, but Blue’s heart nearly failed to hear them.

Spoken to her.

Meant for her.

By the person whom she loved.

Oh, dear God, when was the last time anyone had ever told her that they loved her?

She could not say; she strained to remember.

“I love you, too,” she whispered it back, even though it was only four words, and they were all so very semantically simple. 

But the expression on Yellow Diamond’s face was anything but as she, too, registered what it was to be loved by another, her mouth agape, pleasure and pain and ecstasy and terror warring across her face in dizzying swirls.

Oh, dear God, when was the last time she had told Yellow that she loved her?

She could not say; she strained to remember.

And there was hesitancy then.

And vast, godawful fear.

And there was longing then.

And tender, unquestioning desire.

And they both leaned forward then…

And tilted their heads in just the right way…

And they…

viii.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a master bedroom that smelled like a fresh coat of paint. 

It was empty as of yet, hollow and silver-walled and woefully unadorned—the movers had just placed the bed and mattress down. They’d be coming back later on that day with the nightstands, armoires, and dressers—all custom-made for the Diamonds’ penthouse suite. 

For their first home.

“Wait,” Yellow said, and there was mischief in her twenty-eight year old voice that took Blue by pleasant and tender surprise. “Let’s finalize this bridal style.”

“Yellow,” she laughed, her face coloring pink, “don’t be ridiculous.”

But the heiress only shook her head, grinning with all the self-assuredness of her love and general air of arrogance, as she bent down and scooped her wife into her well-toned arms. Instinctively, Blue wrapped her own arms around that corded neck to help support her weight and found herself so close to Yellow’s face that she could not help but be enchanted.

By her.

Because of her.

This golden-eyed knight.

“I’m not being ridiculous,” Yellow scoffed, pressing a quick kiss against her head. “I’m being romantic. Haven’t you heard of the concept before?”

“Abstractly,” she teased. “In novels and fairytales and the like.”

“You read too many books.” “And you read too little.”

“Nerd.”

“Neolith.”

And they grinned at each other with unbearable affection as Yellow Diamond walked them over the threshold of the room, careful to maneuver her body in such a way that Blue’s feet didn’t hit the doorframe. 

When they were on the other side, though, she gently placed her down, so that they were directly in front of the bed that would soon be their own. Blue would assume the right side and Yellow the left, and on some nights, they would meet directly in the middle.

“Soon,” Blue murmured, softly interlinking her fingers with Yellow’s. The bands of their wedding rings clinked delicately at the touch.

“No more bumming out in my mother’s mansion,” Yellow smiled, playing a little with Blue’s hand, swinging it.

“And hearing her daily tirades about being late to breakfast…”

“Oh, yes,” came that harsh, lovely laugh that Blue so loved. “I certainly won’t miss those.”

And they turned to face each other then, light playing in their youthful eyes. 

And Yellow reached up and tentatively brushed back a strand of loose hair behind Blue’s ear.

And Blue leaned into the touch because she could not imagine ever doing anything else in this world.

And their futures stretched before them, ribbon-like, graceful, spiraling into each other’s lifelines with an inextricability that they simultaneously believed in and found hard to fathom. They were each other’s beginnings and their ends. They were partners, soulmates, wives. They dreamed, in that very moment, tiny though it was, of all the things that they would do together over the course of an interconnected lifetime. They would chase their ambitions with wild abandon and climb to the very height of them side by side. They would take long walks in the park near their high rise. They would go see musicals on the date nights that Blue chose and drink the most expensive bottles of champagne over steak and lobster on the ones that Yellow preferred. They would fall into the same bed every night, the very bed in front of them now. They would fall asleep in each other’s arms—warm, loved, secure. Maybe they would get a cat at some point, even though Yellow swore up and down that she was allergic to them. And maybe they would travel the world, seeing all the sights and wonders and ultimately concluding that somehow, even the Eiffel Tower paled in comparison to the view that they had of each other.

And maybe, one day, they would even adopt a child to love, to raise, and to cherish.

For Blue had always wanted a little girl.

The possibilities were endless.

And so, they leaned forward then…

There was nothing else left to do.

And they tilted their heads in just the right way…

And they…

ix.

Thursday, July 12, 7:45PM:

Steven: I’m scared, Blue.

They danced in the incomplete darkness for as long as they could both bear it, but eventually, their bodies caught up to them—Blue’s aching hip and Yellow’s sore leg and the overwhelming awkwardness of it all that arrested their limbs, too, as they slowly remembered what it was to touch each other.

They hadn’t touched each other in so many years.

Holding on to the head of her cane for support, Blue leaned down and turned off the stereo, while Yellow collected that curious manila envelope from the table and tucked it beneath her arm again.

When they both straightened up again, their noses were inches away from each other.

Blue could see every microfilament in her wife’s expression, softly realized by the amber light above. She was a beautiful creature, down to every last line that had struck itself across her face. Those dark lashes and golden eyes. The way her teeth gently pressed into her lower lip in tender and shy hesitancy.

With this sort of notable self-consciousness, though, she stepped backwards and away, giving them both space to breathe.

Blue’s heart felt as though it was going to beat right out of her chest.

“You can shower first,” Yellow said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I have some paperwork to attend to anyway.”

Oh.

She’d forgotten, for however long that they had been on the balcony together, that it was commonplace for them to part at night.

That they weren’t together.

How awful and how unbearable.

How completely and utterly cruel.

Yellow’s gaze flicked down to the manila envelope, but Blue’s remained centered on her wife’s face as she struggled to articulate the words she desperately wanted to say and ardently dreaded to, her lips partially cracked open, her entire body electric with nerves.

“Blue?” Concern bent Yellow’s brow. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.” Are you—”

“Come with me, Yellow.”

Oh, the awful and beautiful and terrible words—how they fell so clumsily and stupidly off her laden tongue.

“What?” The businesswoman’s eyes flew wide open, stretching the lines beneath them into almost comedic proportions.

Blue tried again, slowly extending her hand, palm up, her oversized sleeve dangling from her wrist.

Her skeletal fingers were trembling, but there was no mistaking the gesture.

It was an invitation.

“Come to bed with me, Yellow,” she whispered as tears reflexively blurred her eyes. It was no small wonder that she still had the capacity to cry after so many days and nights of weeping herself undone.

“Please.”

What complicated emotions were going through Yellow Diamond’s mind then, Blue could not entirely say. Sundry emotions seized across her eyes; her mouth wrenched itself open; and for what felt like an eternity, an infinity wrapped into excruciating seconds, she was simply and utterly speechless, staring at that outstretched hand as though she was seeing God for the first time.

How many nights had this woman dreamed of this moment? Blue wondered to herself, pain and love and fear commingling in the column of her throat.

And how many nights have I half-wanted it?

Half-dreaded it?

Craved it.

Pushed it away.

She did not have time to answer these profound questions, though, for with astonishing tenderness, with paramount and equivalent fear, Yellow took her hand, palms against palms, the striations of their fingers aligning themselves perfectly.

“Are you sure?” She asked quietly.

She was thorough as ever; she was giving Blue a readymade out.

Blue Diamond had never been more unsure about anything in her life.

“Yes,” she whispered anyway.

And so they…

Thursday, July 12, 8:15PM:

Blue: It’s okay to be scared, Steven.

x.

Once upon a time, there was a princess, a knight, and a king-sized bed that had always been meant for two.

Theirs was a sad tale.

A tragedy.

Their daughter died, and that was something that neither of them would ever entirely recover from.

But, and all the same, they could love each other nonetheless.

They could be there for each other for the rest of their dwindling days.

Holding hands.

Learning the shapes of each other’s collected and accumulated scars.

Braving the night together, one second, one minute, one fraction of a vast and incomprehensible infinity at a time.

In that dark bedroom, silent tears streamed down Blue Diamond’s face as her wife tentatively held her, her face against her shoulder, her arms encircling the softness of her gowned belly. She rested her slender hands on top of those of tall, leathery ones and didn’t know whether to be devastated that this was the first time they had shared a bed together in four years or so utterly relieved.

Yellow kissed her head.

And the back of her neck.

And her cheek.

And kept asking if she was okay? Was her hip doing fine? Did she need more space?

And Blue replied, every time, in the strongest voice she could muster, “No.”

No, she was not okay.

No, her hip was not fine.

No, she didn’t need more space.

It was all paradoxes and contradictions: grief and love and so many wasted years. The potential for a better future. The awful fear that things could eventually become worse. Blue’s softness and Yellow’s sternness. Blue’s selfishness and Yellow’s tender care.

But they went to bed together, and that was what mattered.

And when Blue Diamond finally fell asleep, for the first time in a very long time, she did not nightmare.

She did not dream.

xi.

Friday, July 13, 7:22AM:

Steven: you think so?

Blue: I know so.

Blue: Being scared is how we know that we are alive.

By the time Blue had woken up and gotten dressed and made it to the kitchen the next morning, Yellow was already gone to work according to Livia, who was fixing Blue’s choice of tea. The slightly bitter aroma sharpened the air.

“She left something for you, though, Mrs. Diamond.” The slight maid used a spoon to point towards the counter. “She asked me to tell you…”

“Thank you, Livia,” she returned gently as she proceeded to the directed area, one doleful cane clink at a time.

Laying on top of the cool marble was the manila envelope Yellow had brought out onto the balcony last night. It was clasp-side down, and the businesswoman’s squared, utilitarian penmanship had dictated a short note to Blue in black ink.

Before she had the chance to read it, though, Livia was sliding the steaming cup of earl gray across the counter, the dark liquid gently sloshing against the rim.

“Do you need anything else, ma’am?”

Blue glanced up and studied the maid’s face, which was tentative with kindness and shy with awe. It suddenly struck her then, with all the precision of a lanced sword, how hard these past four years must have been for her, too.

“No,” she murmured softly. “Thank you, Livia… I think I’m…”

But then, she remembered.

Yes, there was in fact something she required before she went to the hospital today.

“My checkbook if you would, please, Livia… I haven’t the slightest clue where I’ve last placed it.”

If Livia seemed surprised by this odd request, she didn’t betray it in her features, simply nodding with all the delicacy that her natural constitution seemed to entail.

“Yes, Mrs. Diamond.”

“Thank you again.”

And the girl fluttered off, wisp-like in her movements, towards the dark corridor, leaving Blue alone with her thoughts and her tea and the manila envelope beneath her. She looked down again, running her fingers across that familiar scrawl.

Test results. The doctors rushed to get them done. I love you. - Yellow

Blue’s harrowed heart lurched against her ribcage as she comprehended these words, as they seemingly fell to the pit of her stomach.

Sickening her.

Immediately goring her.

She flipped the envelope over and unclasped it with almost indecent haste.

There were about twenty papers in all, neatly stacked; the first sheet was the same shade of light pink that had once been their daughter’s favorite color, and the reminder nearly ruined her where she stood.

But eventually, with trembling fingers, she negotiated the papers out of their sheath, her dark eyes scanning the neatly printed words.

And when she comprehended them, when realization swept down across her body with glorious, sweeping force, Blue Diamond did something she had not an occasion to do for years upon years now.

Strangely enough, though, in these past few weeks alone, it was becoming something of a commonality.

Her lips tilted upward in the barest, most gentle of curves.

And she...

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 12

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kax/female!Reader

Summary: a prison heist

Note: so 2 things, 1 - the song is this chapter is ‘Bulletproof Heart’ by My Chemical Romance and 2 - finally a kiss!  maybe not exactly the kiss thats expected but its where they’re at for now

Taglist: @mcntsee​ @amwitherspoon​

              Kaz was able to catch sight of the carriage as it was pulling out of the gate.  He and Mal took off running after it, Kaz screaming Y/N’s name.  He dropped the cane, running as fast as he could, desperate to catch her.  Mal dropped back before Kaz did, bending over panting.  Kaz kept running, ignoring the hellacious pain in his bad leg.  He ran until his leg gave out on him and he landed face first in the frosted grass.  He screamed out his rage, punching the hard ground as he sat up.  Mal came over and tried to help him stand but Kaz pulled away, collapsing to his hands and knees, retching on the grass.  He wasn’t sure if it was because he was disgusted at the touch of another or if he was disgusted at himself for doing this to her.  When they got to the prison if someone recognized her and sent word to the Darkling he would come for her.  He would try to use her and if he couldn’t, he would kill her. Kaz finally got to his feet and accepted his cane from Mal.  

              “I’m going after her,” he said, starting to limp back to camp.  

              “I know, we can’t send a squad, we’d never get in, but, maybe a few thieves could get in,” Mal responded.  “I’ll gather some supplies and go track the carriage, make sure of their destination.  If it is Sarkoff’s prison we have a few people in there, we can send 3 more at the guard changing at the end of the month but not before then.  Get planning.”  

              “The end of the month?  She could be dead by then!” Kaz said.  Mal stopped.

              “You need to calm down and think with your head Brekker, you know that she wouldn’t want you running in there half-assed and getting yourself killed.  Come up with 2 other team members and a plan and we will get you in there and you will get her back here safe.  I know you will,” he said.  Mal walked off then towards his own tent while Kaz went to find the Dregs.  

              He found his crew around a table eating and he fell to sit on a bench.  They all looked at him and paled.  They had probably never seen him like this.  He was wet from the frost, bloody from his fall, and looked murderous.  

              “What happened?” Jesper asked.  

              “The fucking Dime Lions took her, prison in the south…” he started.

              “Sarkoff’s?” Inej asked.  Kaz nodded.  

              “I need a team, I need to get her back.  If the Darkling finds out she’s there he will kill her, I cannot lose someone else I love, I can’t lose her like I lost…my brother…I can’t” Kaz said, eyes glazing over, memories washing over him.  He knew he must terrifying them.  He was Kaz Brekker, he kept his calm no matter what, if he lost his head that meant the end of the world and for Kaz this very much felt like the end of the world.  

              “I’ve been there as a guard to keep an eye on things,” Inej said.  “I can help with the plan, we will get papers for the guard transfer at the end of the month. We need one more person to go with us.” Jesper stepped forward.

              “Y/N is my best friend now, sorry everyone else here, so like hell I’m not going to break her out of prison,” he said.  Inej nodded.

              “Kaz, can you keep your head to do this?  Get it together,” Inej said.  Kaz took a breath and closed his eyes.  When they opened he was alright again, the old Kaz was back and he was ready to formulate their plan.

              Y/N sure how long she had actually been in this prison, every day was exactly the same.  They days were spent with her hands cuffed to the ceiling and beatings were given when she wouldn’t reveal anything about the resistance.  If she did say anything she sent them on wild goose chases and those beatings were especially savage.  In the evening they paraded her out on a stage, cuffed at the hands and feet, pelting her with fruit and trying to get her to sing.  Someone had revealed she liked to write songs and it became a daily occurrence to mock her into singing.  

              She saw the full moon one night through the small cell window and knew it must be the beginning of the month.  New guards, lovely, more people to torment her and mock her.  She sighed as the evening drew near, straining to breath after the strangling someone had give her earlier.  She missed Kaz, every night she dreamed about him, just holding his hand or being in the stream again, in the day she went over every interaction they had had since they met nearly six months ago.  How did she go from being alone and feeling trapped to being in love and free in six months?  She marveled at what Kaz had done for her and she hoped one day she would see him again.

              The evening guard entered her cell, laughing about the upcoming ‘performance’ she was going to give.  They uncuffed her from the ceiling and led her out to the rec hall.  They entered and tossed her on the set of boxes they made as a ‘stage’ and started hooting and hollering at her.  She was looking towards the guards’ room where the keys were hanging desperately trying to think of a way to get to them.  There was always a guard in there on duty and one standing by the door as watch.  With the cuffs she couldn’t hope to get past them both and she sighed.  She was knocked over suddenly by a metal cup thrown at her shoulder.  She pushed herself up on her knees and looked towards the door that led to the cells and there he was.  Kaz.  Their eyes met and she nearly cried in relief.  Jesper and Inej flanked him, all three dressed like guards, Inej whispering to him and motioning towards the guards’ room.  He looked intently at her and she realized they needed a distraction to lure the guard at the door away, just for a minute.  She nodded and slowly stood.  

              “You want a song you fuckers?” she yelled out at the guards.  They all stopped, now waiting for what she would do next, thinking they had finally wore her down into performing something.  This would be good, if she was willing to embarrass herself like this maybe she would start giving them information.

              “Sing bitch!” one guard yelled and they laughed.  She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.

“Gravity don't mean too much to me I'm who I've got to be These pigs are after me, after you

Run away like it was yesterday And we could run away If we could run away Run away from here”

           The guard by the door laughed as she started singing and called into the room, probably telling the other guard he was leaving to join the others.  He stepped forward into the fray of people who were yelling at her, calling out the most heinous things they could think of.  But she wasn’t listening.  This was the song she wrote for Kaz and right now she was singing for him and no one else.  

“I gotta bulletproof heart You gotta hollow point smile”

           Inej had been meant to stand guard at the door but as soon as Kaz heard that line he stopped and stared at Y/N.  This was the song she was working on, for him.  He looked to Inej who seemed to understand that something was going on right now.

           “Stand guard, I’ll be able to search for her keys faster,” she said, leaving him at the door.  Kaz stood and listened at the song continued, waiting impatiently as Jesper dispatched the guard and Inej found what she needed.  After about a minute they both reappeared and started working back to the door to the cells. Y/N really turned up the energy to keep the guards distracted.  Jepser and Inej slipped out first and Kaz took one more Y/N before they disappeared into the hall.  

           “You two find the laundry room and make sure we can get out that way as planned,” Kaz said.  “I’ll wait by her cell until after the lights out bed check and then get her.”  They all nodded and went their separate ways.

           Kaz settled himself in an alcove by her cell, just big enough for a couple people to fit in, and waited.  After about an hour she was brought back to the cell and chained again to the ceiling. Kaz felt his blood raging in his veins. She looked thinner, dirty, she had been beaten and he wanted to kill everyone who had hurt her in the last month. The guards left and he still had to wait.  Finally, the guards called lights out down the corridor and checked her cell before walking by.  After they disappeared through the door Kaz slipped out and opened her cell.  She looked up at and he could tell she was relieved to see him but still terrified.  He hurried over and undid her cuffs.  She collapsed to the ground and he offered her his hand.  Once she was up they headed out of the cell and he locked it again.  They were shooting down hallways towards the laundry room when he heard guards coming.  They were still in the cells and there was alcoves like the one by hers around so he gently pushed her to the wall of one and stood silently in front of her, facing the wall.  In the dark hopefully the black guards’ uniform would keep them shadowed there.  He noticed then that she was completely flat against the wall, hands pressed to it hard, holding her breath so that he body didn’t touch his.  He looked down at her, marveling at how she was bruised, bloody, and scared, but she still was conscious of him and his needs.  He could see that she was shaking a little, scared of being caught and he knew he needed calm her down somehow, any noise she made may draw attention to them.  He looked at her and did the only thing he could think of, something he had wanted to do for a long time actually.  He leaned forward silently and pressed his lips to her forehead.   Y/N instantly stilled.

             Kas Brekker was kissing her.   Y/N felt his lips on her forehead, only for a few moments, but it was enough to draw her focus to just that feeling.  His lips had been soft and warm, something she didn’t expect from him, but she shouldn’t be surprised, he wasn’t as hard and cold as he seemed to everyone else. She froze in place, reminiscing and storing the memory of his kiss inside her heart.  It was just enough time for the guards to leave the corridor and for them to move again.  They arrived at the laundry room where Jesper was waiting.  

           “Where’s Inej?” Kaz asked while Y/N hugged Jesper.  She was so happy to see her friend again, and so grateful they had come for her.

           “She went through the vent to open the guards’ door on the other side,” he said.

           “People tried to sneak out of the laundry room all the time, they added a second room to check for escapees,” Y/N explained, voice hoarse.  She looked at Kaz and saw that he was upset by her appearance.  She smiled at him, completely forgetting how much her face hurt from the bruising.  He was with her again and that was all she needed right now.  

           Inej soon opened the door to the laundry room and then to the outside. They were able to slide through a gate that had been opened for them, closing and locking it again as they jumped into a waiting carriage that Mal was driving.  He took off into the night back to the encampment.   Y/N didn’t mean to but she was so tired from her experience that she instantly fell asleep the moment she was safe, head falling to Kaz’s shoulder.

           Kaz felt her head on his shoulder and was shocked to find that he didn’t feel much.  The feeling of something being off was less this time, he barely noticed it.  What he felt was relief, and complete.  For the whole month she had been gone he had spent every moment feeling like something was missing.  It was a similar feeling to how he felt after he had climbed on the docks and left Jordie behind.  It had taken years for that feeling to go away and he didn’t want to relive it again. Inej and Jesper looked surprised that he was letting her lean to him.

           “Are you alright?” Inej asked.  He nodded.

           “I know you noticed that something’s wrong with me,” Kaz said.  “With her, its not as bad.”  

           “And maybe love is the reason whyyyy,” Jesper sang out, mimicking the love song that Y/N had sang on their first night at camp.  Kaz glared at him but couldn’t completely hide the amusement from his eyes.  

           “You know she is the only safe from my cane Jesper,” he said, grabbing it from the seat where he’d left it and thumping Jesper in the shoulder with it.

           “That’s just rude,” his friend said, lifting his arm and letting it fall useless to his side.  “Its going to take forever for it to start working again.”  Inej laughed and Kaz smirked a little, leaning his head back on the seat and feeling at peace for the time.

[icollectyoursins]

Merman Jotaro x Fem!Reader NSFW Part 1

Anon said: "Merman Jotaro merman Jotaro merman Jo... SPICY PLEASE"

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Honestly. I dream about this often. 9/10 times it’s hot. 1/10 times it’s really hot. It’s not gender neutral, I guess, but it’s not a fem!reader. The reader just happens to have a vagina and tits. I could do a reader-with-a-dick version of this, if you want. This one is very long. Couldn’t stop writing! I am the biggest Jotaro simp and I am not afraid to admit it.

Heads up, Jotaro is referred to it as ‘they’ for most of this, only because the reader doesn’t really know what he’s packing on first glance. Anyway, I hope this is in character because Jotaro is one I haven’t quite nailed yet.

For as long as you can remember the ocean would call to you. After a lot of resource managing and hard work, you finally had enough money to get a boat and a small cabin by the beach, free to escape to the vast blue as much as you liked. Which is exactly what you did today. Someone was a little less than happy to see you in his territory.

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Dubious consent (dub con), size difference, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play (sucking specifically), uh... tentacle dick? Kinda, two dicks, breeding, mention of kidnapping at the end.

Word count: 2506

Rest and Reproduction   

     The smell of the salty air tickled your nose as the mist of small waves splashed your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the railing and staring out at the land. You could just barely see the sand and your little cabin. The rest was blue. A deep, calming blue. The stars reflected on the surface, twinkling pleasantly. Maybe you should go out a little bit further?

   Maybe tomorrow, you were tired from preparing your boat all day. The sun was just starting to set when you finally got on the water. You deserved a break.

   You sat down on a small fold-out chair you grabbed yesterday. It was comfier than you thought it would be and you sank into it happily, curling yourself into it as you stared up at the stars. A long sigh left your lips. Today was a good day.

   A loud splash to your left startled you, making you sit up quickly and run to the source of the sound. All you saw were the ripples it left behind. Whatever it was, it was big. Then another large splash, this time it was accompanied by a thunk on the metal. The boat rocked from the impact, instinctively, you reached for the railing, holding on so you don’t fall over.

   A third splash comes from behind you. You turn around quickly, catching the glimpse of a tail, pure black and big. It banged the side of the boat again, throwing you off balance. You stumbled backwards into the chair, knocking both it and yourself over. The knocking suddenly stops along with the rocking. Silence never felt more terrifying. You sat, frozen by fear.

   Then the bow started to dip and creak. You scrambled backwards hoping to keep out of the water as long as possible. A large, black, clawed hand gripped the front of the boat, then another. Whatever it was, it was trying to pull itself up. Slowly, you were able to see its face the closer it got to you. 

   Sharp, angular features with piercing blue eyes and full lips. Short, black hair messily stuck to their face. They crawled towards you, eyes narrowing with focus the more they tried to fit themselves onto the boat but their weight kept tipping it. You were holding onto whatever would keep you up, unfortunately, nothing was helping and you slowly began sinking towards your pursuer. 

   You tried to scramble your way up to no avail. The closer you got, the less they moved, waiting for you to come to them. They reached out with one of their massive hands, grabbing your ankle then pulling you towards them. What happened next was a blur.

   Arms wrapped around your torso, holding you close to keep you from struggling. Whoever was holding you was massive, significantly stronger than you, easily trapping you and pulling you into the frigid waters. The salty sea stung your eyes as it whipped around you. Then, just as you were about to blackout, you were pulled to the surface again, gasping for breath. 

   You pushed against what you assumed was a rock sticking out of the water because of the sting against your back. Your arms were pinned down as your attacker shifted himself so your legs were under them. They were cold and wet; slimy. As your eyes gradually focused, you saw fully who this thing was. 

   Glaring down at you was some kind of half-man, half orca or shark mix. Their arms up until the elbow were black, then faded to a light flesh tone. You couldn’t quite see the rest of their body, but you imagined the rest was similar. Light skin transitioning to a pitch black. Bright blue eyes started you down, full of rage and confusion. 

   “What are you doing here?” A low, rumbling voice boomed from them. You struggle to speak, unable to think straight with this whatever it was on top of you. Their eyes narrow at you, threatening you without words. You continue to stutter and attempt to free yourself from their grip which only tightens, claws digging into your skin. They snarl, face getting closer to yours. “What are you doing here.”

   “Ah! I’m just- nnf- I didn’t do anything wrong!” You gritted, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “I was just trying to relax, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.” Their lips pulled back, baring their teeth slightly. It was at this point that you noticed that they were... well. Hot. They were hot. “Who are you?”

   They glared at you, deciding whether or not to answer and you felt yourself shrink under their gaze. After a few seconds, they finally did. “My name is Jotaro and you are in my territory.”

   “I didn’t mean to, I swear!” They snarled again. You could feel your heart race. They leaned into your neck, sniffing. You gasped, trying not to move, hoping you wouldn’t upset them more, but the closer they got to your neck, the more (regretfully) aroused you got. You moved your head away, stretching out your neck, shamefully trying to entice them. Meekly, you said: “I didn’t know.”

   They rolled their eyes, tail swishing in frustration. You could feel them moving against you, which only made your situation worse. You moaned quietly at the slight movement on your groin. They stopped, staring at you; perplexed. Embarrassed, you screwed your eyes shut, praying they wouldn’t notice the blush on your face. They moved again, deliberately this time, deeper and more fluid making you bite your lip to stifle another moan.

   Jotaro leaned in, raking their teeth along your sensitive neck taking in how you shivered. You were ashamed, but it’s hard not to react like this when there’s a really hot, strong, slightly intimidating merman on top of you. They released one of your arms, placing it by your shoulder to get more leverage as well as loosening their grip on the other. Their lips came dangerously close to you, breath kissing your skin, then they sat back again. 

   “You have two choices. I rip open your guts and feed you to the sharks, or-” they lean in, lips brushing against your jawline teasingly, “-satisfy me enough and I’ll let you get out of here alive.”

   “What?”

   “I’m not repeating myself. Now, hurry up before I make the decision for you.” You gulped. I mean... it’s not like he’s giving you very many options... you shyly nodded your head. “Say it.”

   “I’ll uh... satisfy you...” your voice trailed off into a question, not sure if that was the right word.

   “I’ll be the judge of that.” They pushed themselves back, looking up and down your body, probably to see if you were built to satisfy them. “You’re lucky I haven’t found a female yet, otherwise there would be two to worry about. The others of my kind aren’t so forgiving.”

   Okay, so they were a he. Good to know. That meant he had the... parts for everything to work, right? Or, at least most of the parts. He makes eye contact one more time before getting to work. Jotaro rips your bottoms off, slightly scratching your thighs, a low, rumbling sound coming from his chest. What little fabric is left is tossed aside and he holds open your legs, inspecting you.

   You stare at him a little dazed. This can’t be happening, right? He drags his teeth along the inside of your thigh while glaring at you from the corner of his eye, the shivers down your spine prove that this is very much real. When he gets close to your sex, it’s very apparent how aroused you were. He can smell it so strongly. A clawed finger cuts open your underwear leaving you completely open to his stare.

   He quizzically pokes at it, pushing your folds apart. Gently, he takes his thumb and rubs your entrance, eyes flicking up to you as you squirm, moaning quietly. His brows furrow together, testing you further by swiping up to your clit, pressing into it then circling. You moan louder this time, bucking your hips up into his finger.

   He quickly gets sick of your squirming, pulling his fingers away and bringing them to his lips, tongue slipping out for a taste. Jotaro stopped, sitting completely still. You shook, hoping he wasn’t offended. He looked at you with a new fire making you gulp down a breath. He slams one arm down across your hips, pinning you down while he brings his face closer to your cunt, licking along your entrance. Your hands fall into his hair, back arching off of the rock as much as it could in your immobile state. He groans at the taste of you, needing more. 

   He leans into you, lapping up your juices vigorously. His lips then wrap around your clit, lightly sucking. Your body tries to move, buck up into him as you mewl, but his arm is too strong. His eyes flick up to you, watching your cheeks get more and more red as he picks up his pace. Suddenly, he pulls back making you gasp. The two of you make eye contact before he crawls up to your face again, cool body rubbing against your unclothed lower half.

   Jotaro crashes his lips into yours. The kiss catches you off guard and you let out a small, muffled sound of shock, but soon melt into him. The taste of you mixed with the saltiness of the sea had your eyes rolling back into your head. Again, just as you were starting to enjoy yourself, he pulls back, moving onto another area of your body. This time it was your breasts.

   He tore a large hole in your top and bra, wide hands roaming over your now exposed chest, pinching where ever he saw necessary. Immediately, he drags his tongue along your soft flesh, flicking over your pert nipple. You gasp and groan, grinding up into him as much as you could under his weight. He pulls away sharply, baring his teeth as he growls at you.

   “Stay still,” he warns, pinching one of your nipples harder than he probably should have. You arch up into his touch, crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure. He twists. Hard. Your hands come to meet his, trying to pry him off, pain now taking the forefront of your feelings. Obediently, he pulls off, leaning into your face, voice low and dangerous. “Stop moving.”

   You meekly nod your head, still holding onto his hand which he then brings up to your face, wrapping your hair around a clawed finger. A sweet, kind change from the aggressiveness before. Jotaro’s eyes wander over your face, taking in your soft features. Once again, he kisses you, gently this time before shifting so he could focus back on your vag with his other hand. 

   His fingers spread your lower lips open again, middle finger pressing into your entrance. He’s careful, doing his best not to scratch you with his sharp nails. He moves his finger up and down before finally pressing into your warmth. You both gasp as your head tosses back. He starts with a slow pace, gently massaging your walls, coaxing more of your juices to seep out of you, squelching whenever he moves back in.

   Gradually he picks up the pace, testing your limits as well as listening to the sweet sounds that fall from you. He adds a second finger when he thinks you're ready, then three, stretching you open. You were so close, holding onto his hand still, pulling him closer to you as you reached your peak. Unfortunately, you never got there. He pulls his fingers out, licking off any traces of you from his fingers before moving so he was exposed to you.

   Jotaro takes your hand, bringing it to a slit below his waist. Your fingers trace over it lightly next to his, taking into account how he shudders. He leads your fingers, pressing into the top of the slit. Slowly, you watch it grow wide, a small pink nub starting to protrude from it. The more you tease his slit the bigger the nub grows into two full, smooth, tapered cocks. Tentacles? You weren’t quite sure, but they looked... exciting if a little intimidating. 

   You let go of his hand, opting to hold one of his cocks instead. They were slick and warm with a pleasant weight to them. The one you were holding curled around your hand slightly, covering your hand in moisture. You start jerking it with slow, shallow pumps, noticing how his eyes close shut and the slight buck of his hips. You pick up the pace, enjoying how the tip starts drooling what you assume it pre onto your hand. 

   Quickly, your hand is pulled away and he moves to align himself with your entrance. Slowly, he slides into you, groaning as he gets deeper. At first, it was okay, but the more that entered, the more full you felt, his tapered tip reaching into every crevice inside you. His other tenta-dick rested between your cheeks, teasing your back door, but never entering. He growls, picking up the pace slowly so you got used to the new intrusion.

   The feeling was driving you mad, whatever warm liquid was seeping out of him added to the pleasure, gradually building up to a tingly feeling that made you babble like an idiot. Jotaro places one of his arms above your head, pressing into you more while the other hand reaches up to your breast, teasing your nipple again. Instantly, you wrap yourself around him, pulling him closer as he gyrates into what feels like your soul. You cry out his name over and over, head tossing back in ecstasy.

   His breath tickles your ear as the two of you chase your release. He groans into your ear, lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder where he kisses you gently before sinking his sharp teeth into you. You scream as pain and pleasure mix together again. He speeds up, the lip of his slit stimulating your clit more and more. 

   “Ah, ah ~aah! I’m cl-hnn. I’m so close!” He laps up the blood from your shoulder, taking your words to heart, somehow getting deeper into you. A few powerful thrusts into you sent you hurtling over the edge, eyes rolling back while your vision when white and you fell limp in his arms.

   Jotaro soon followed you, the feel of your tightness around him made him plunge deep into you, spilling as much of his seed as possible. A vision of you growing round with his pup dances across his eyelids. He looks down at your face, flushed and relaxed. You were more than satisfying to him. He would never allow anyone else touch you after this.

   The last thing you recall was a warm kiss placed on your temple before being swallowed by the cold water and then black...

[cloudyempress]

Storge || K. Muzan + Upper moons

✦ Fluff, comedy, manga spoilers, child!reader, reader is Muzan's daughter. 

- This was originally published in wattpad.

Storge (noun); familial love, the love of a parent towards offspring and vice versa.

                                   •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

They called you Little Misfortune. Spending time with you was a nightmare worse than disagreeing with Muzan. Your seven year old self could only think of their faces as a canvas to use the paint your father regularly buys you. A few minutes babysitting you was the equivalent of being in rainbow land and hell at the same time. And if you had a single, microscopic scratch at the end of the day, they would suffer severe consequences.

Kokushibo hated how much you'd tug his hair and make fun of his eyes, along with your hideous loudness. Hantengu ran away from you when he realized how deadly adorable you could be, forcing him to become tiny so you could put him inside your dollhouse. Gyokko had to put up with you breaking his pots and making disgusting faces whenever you saw him, also having to praise your artwork even if he disliked it. Gyutaro found you incredibly annoying, but loves when you disagree with him being ugly and laughs when you prank Daki. Talking about her, she's the upper moon that hates you the most since you gained all the attention from Muzan and you generally bothered her. Akaza was the nicest out of them, so you'd crawl onto his arms whenever you were scared or feeling tired. Finally, Douma loved you, finding it funny when you blushed at how cute he was or how much you adored playing with him.

Being born a demon, which was a extremely rare case (specially being born from a human and having a lot of human features like aging), you had gained your demon blood art early. This meant more trouble for the Upper moons, you could make them lose control over their arts and breaths (in the case of Kokushibo and other demon slayers).

It was a chaos when you first used it. Hantengu's turn of babysitting you turned into you getting lost in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress, Nakime not being able to know where you were and the rooms moving and shifting randomly. Once Muzan found out, he rushed the other upper moons into an emergency meeting.

"Why are you so incompetent? First the lower moons, and now you as well? Can't you just guard a fucking child?"

Everyone was in complete silence. They knew better than to mess with Muzan when he got angry about something happening to his dear daughter.

"I'm going to say this once. Find (Name) before I disband you. Now."

Not wasting time in saying 'yes', they all left to find you. As the fort was chaos, most of them got smashed into a wall or pushed to the ground. Luckily, Kokushibo had enough instinct to avoid those, quickly finding you eating a giant jar of your favorite ice cream with lots of oreos and sprinkles. You were stuffing your face with it and humming songs, until you noticed that his towering figure was standing next to you, his accusatory six eyes piercing through your soul. You stopped everything you were doing, standing up and taking a defensive pose.

"Come, (Name). Muzan-sama is..."

Before he could continue, you took out pieces of a flute from your dress' pocket and waved them in the air high enough for him to see. Kokushibo frowned in anger and confusion, wondering how you got your hands on his brother's flute, which he usually keeps on him.

"No! I won't give in to a hairy spider like you! I used to have nightmares about you, but now I am not scared!"

"Spiders have eight eyes, (Name)."

But you didn't listen, sticking out your tongue and throwing the pieces in the air, running away the second he shifted his gaze to them instead of you.

The fort was filled with your giggles, sounding like a music only two people liked but the others had to endure it. They just didn't stop until you found Gyokko's freshly painted pots, his colors begging you to smash them into the ground. You climbed the table and shoved them to the edges, then began jumping to see if they would fall or resist the vibrations of your weight against the table. They didn't, falling into the floor and becoming tiny pieces of what they once were.

"DAMN CHILD! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY THE GREAT GYOKKO'S ART?"

"Oops!" you turned around with a cheeky grin adorning your face.

Gyokko launched at you, gritting his teeth.

"I did you a favor! Now you'll have to throw them out in the trash, were they belong"

Before his hands could reach you, a wall as fast as lightning hit him so hard he ended up in another room altogether. You shrugged and kept running around.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro and Daki walked together, both complaining about the situation. He mainly listened to her whine while she rambled on how pointless looking for you was.

"Can't somebody shut up that horrying child laughter?" she screamed at the ceiling.

Gyutaro crossed his arms, he lacked the energy to explain to her how an annoying child worked. He knew it too well from taking care of her.

"I don't get why Muzan-sama wants her when he has me." Daki spread her hand in front of her face and started counting with her fingers. "I'm gorgeous, strong, loyal... and I'm not an stupid, loud-as-fuck child!"

"Ume" Gyutaro called, as the both of them kept walking straight.

"She's a pain! She takes all of Muzan-sama's precious time away."

"Ume" he stopped walking, Daki kept her pace as she was fixated on finding things to hate you for.

"She couldn't even speak properly when we first met her. All she does is cause trouble for us, that's why nobody likes her!"

"Ume!"

She turned around to face him, a vein popping out of her forehead.

"What?!"

"At least I'm not as stupid as you, miss whore! Daddy told me you were annoying yesterday."

All her hairs perked up when she heard your voice. She turned around to find you a few meters away from her, a bit shocked from hearing you insult her that way.

"Who taught you that word?" she placed her hand above her chest, surprise evident in her expression.

"I did" Gyutaro said, a smirk appearing in his face. He waved at you ignoring his sister's terrifying anger. "Hi there, little misfortune. Everybody's looking for you"

"You're not going to stop me?"

He shrugged, going back to his usual annoyed expression.

"Not me, but my sister is"

Daki jumped at you, almost not giving you time to react properly. You spit the gum you were chewing to put it on her hair. Her eyes widened in horror as she tried to take it off, letting you off her hands.

"Fuck you, (Name)! Come back here you damn brat!"

Gyutaro helped Daki take off the gum, you running away from them. The last thing you heard as you escaped was Gyutaro offering to cut off the damaged part of her beautiful long hair.

Your legs were short and you got tired of running after a few minutes. You collapsed on the ground to take in some air.

"Oh~ Are you tired, (Name)-chan?" Douma's playful tone made your eyes shine at the realization that he was there.

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were not only exhausted, but also feeling guilty of accidentally stepping on tiny Hantengu on your way there. It wasn't your fault he was terrified of your childishness and Muzan's rage, but you didn't notice he was in the way and stepped on him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for causing all of this! Is just that Hantengu didn't want to play with me and I felt lonely! I don't want to be alone! Now everyone hates me!"

"Shhh... It's ok. You're an adorable little princess, nobody hates you."

He ruffled your hair as your teary eyes stare at his rainbow colored ones. They were both beautiful and calming for you, those colors made you think pretty things when you were sad.

"You don't hate me?"

"Of course I don't!"

"Then, will you marry me when I grow up?"

He chuckled, ruffling your hair again. Your cheeks were burning from embarrassment.

"Yes, su—"

Half of his head was suddenly cut off by a hand. You frown at Akaza, who seemed very angry at seeing Douma that close to you. Douma's head regenerated fast, his charismatic smile never leaving his features.

"Why are you proposing her marriage?"

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. What the hell is your problem? I'm not going to let you put strange ideas into her innocent mind."

Akaza opened his arms at you so you could climb into him, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Little misfortune was feeling lonely and hated, so I simply made her feel happier. Now let me hold her" Douma tried to take you to him, but Akaza's grip on you was stronger.

"You try to make her feel happier by proposing? Also, you only eat women, why would I let you near (Name)?"

"Well, she's not human!"

"Can I marry you too?" you ask above the discussion, your voice silencing the both of them. You pulled away a little bit from Akaza's hold to look at him in the eye. "When I grow up, can I marry you too?"

Akaza's concerned look grew bigger by the second. Douma had an amused expression, holding in laugher. Akaza's gaze shifted from Douma to you, not knowing what to say. His face told a different story than you had intended. You leaped away from them, tears floading down your face again.

"Then I'll be alone my entire life!"

You started escaping again, covering your face with your hands. The upper moons attempted to use their arts to get you back, but failed as yours contradicted their use.

Douma sighed, then turned towards Akaza with a smile from ear to ear.

"You're not a great liar, are you?"

After running around all day, your energy was so low that you could barely walk without dragging your feet. Loneliness was the strongest and most shocking feeling you'd gotten in the seven years you had been alive. No mother, no siblings, only a father who'd mostly be working and babysitters who hated your guts. Facing the ground, lips curved downwards, you clearly weren't expecting crashing with something. Or more accurately, someone's legs.

It was Muzan, his stern expression changing into a softer one when he saw your defeated state. He opened his arms to engulf you into a hug, so you jumped at him with the strength you had left.

"I'm sorry, I felt lonely!"

"Why is that? You always have an upper moon to take care of you" he walked towards your room as he caressed your hair.

"But they hate me!"

"They don't hate you. Kokushibo's always worried about your health and safety. Gyokko and Hantengu try to enhance your talents in art since they know how much you love it. Gyutaro likes to make you laugh, and while Daki acts as if she hates you, she sew you a stuffed animal for your birthday by herself knowing that other stores didn't buy the plush you wanted. Douma plays with you all the time, of course he loves you. And Akaza is always there to keep him from crossing the line. They don't hate you, they are your family." he tucked you in your bed, a smile reaching his lips before you closed your eyes in order to sleep.

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"As I love you too."

                                 •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[presentmicsongbird]

Jealous Bakugo x reader

“Oi dumbass!” 

You groaned as you heard the voice call out from behind you. You haven’t left his side for more than two minutes and already he was on your tail.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me squirt?! Don’t ignore me, y/n!”

“Uh...y/n, I think kaachan wants to-“ you cut Midoriya off from stating the very obvious. You knew very well he wanted to talk to you. But after the stunt he pulled yesterday, you were determined to give him the cold shoulder until he gave you a proper apology. 

“I know, Deku.” You spoke at a volume that you knew could be heard over Bakugo’s screaming. ”Just ignore him, I’m not in the mood to talk to Pomeranians with anger issues.” You took a glance at said Pomeranian only to see him glaring daggers at both you and the green haired boy. 

You inwardly smirked as you turned once more to head into class, an angry boyfriend following soon after. As soon as the three were seated, the explosion hero decided once more to try and get you to talk to him, but was soon silenced when Aizawa entered the room. 

“Alright everybody, stop talking. I’ve got a few announcements to make for your next training, so listen up.” 

The homeroom teacher’s words fell onto deaf ears, Bakugo’s ears to be exact…All he could think about was the way you leaned on your desk, head resting on your hand as you listened intently to what Aizawa sensei was saying. Your slender legs crossed beneath your desk, your foot tapping away at a beat only you can hear, a stray hair tickled your ear, but you made no move to brush it away. Your soft lips were kept in a straight line, smiling slightly at a joke Kaminari made.

wait…you laughed at that Pikachu’s joke? 

A low growl rumbled in his throat, clenching his fists to keep him from acting up in front of their teacher. Fortunately, he finished his announcement, and turned to leave to let the next teacher in. The moment he left, Katsuki sharply turned his head to glare at the blonde, only to see him still making jokes and getting more quiet giggles out of you. 

Now THAT…made his blood boil even more. You were HIS! HE’s the one who should be making you laugh, not that short-circuit blondie. 

Kaminari must’ve felt the burning at the back of his head because as soon as his eyes met Bakugo’s, all color drained from his face and quickly shut his mouth. Whether it was the tiny explosions blasting in his hands or the daggers he was glaring at his now trembling body, it definitely got his point across too 

Stay. Away. From. You. 

The ash blonde student smirked as his quirk died down, but it was soon wiped off his face as his eyes met your e/c ones. No longer did they hold the laughter you had a few seconds ago, your lips now turned into a scowl as you glared back at your boyfriend. 

Honestly, you couldn’t even wait until after School? 

Realizing his mistake, you see him ‘tsk’ and turn his head away from both of you. Thankfully, the new teacher came in and told the class to take out your textbooks. You sighed and shook your head, wondering if it was really a good idea to keep giving him the silent treatment. 

Wait…yes…

Yes it was. 

As the teacher went over the lesson, your mind wandered to the events that lead up to this. Which, surprisingly, was too much for one day. 

Let’s see…

The two of you had decided to go on a date yesterday since it was the weekend and neither of you had and homework. Bakugo even suggested (more like demanded) to meet up at the cafe early to get the best seats in the back. You found it really sweet, even though he practically growled it out thought the phone call. 

Still, the morning went without a hitch, you got your favorite drinks, your favorite comfy spot in the back, and even the little dessert that was always sold out when you came by after school. Heck, Bakugo didn’t even make his usual comments about the drinks and treats being too sweet, or too powdery. He even asked you if you had wanted more. Since it was too early for the regular customers coming in, you said yes. You believed that nothing could go wrong today. 

Oh boy…why didn’t you knock on wood?

After ordering one more cookie, (to save for later), the two of you wanted to watch the new movie that came out just a few weeks back. You were so excited that, you hadn’t even noticed one of the baristas coming over to your table. 

“Here’s your order, hope you enjoy.” You looked away from Katsuki to grab the little paper bag from him, smiling as you said your thanks. He of course smiles back politely. Before he could say another word, Bakugo beat you to it. 

“Alright, that’s enough twerp. Quit eyeing my damn date and go back to your job.” 

The barista was taken aback and struggled to say a shaky apology. Poor thing looked like he was about to pee himself. He turned back to face you, about to apologize again, but Bakugo’s voice cut through again. 

“OI, I SAID BEAT IT KID! Or should I get my point across another way?” Tiny explosions boomed from his outstretched hand. It wasn’t enough to trigger the fire alarms, thank goodness, but was more than enough to send the barista running. 

Bakugo, of course, laughed it off and continued to ask what time you two should watch the movie. You looked at him in disbelief. 

“Bakugo!” 

“What? He was looking at you like a piece of candy. Be more thankful I got him off your back.” He shrugged his shoulders, while continuing to munch on his treat. 

“He wasn’t and you know it.” You countered. “Poor guy was just handing me my order. You didn’t have to use your quirk, geez.” You slumped on your seat and crossed your arms as your boyfriend took your tray and dumped out the trash. 

“Alright, let’s go. We got a few hours before the movie start, but might as well get going if we wanna buy tickets. We can eat at that buffet restaurant for lunch and then have dinner at my place, how does that sound? I’ll cook.” You sighed and got up from your seat, taking the cookie bag while avoiding Bakugo’s gaze. 

“Sure, C’mon.” You glanced up only to see his red eyes widen, before shaking his head and following you out the door. 

On the walk to the train station, avoided his gaze even more and turned your head when he got up in your face. The explosion quirked student tried to coax you to get you to talk to him, but you stayed silent. You heard him sigh, then moved to stand in front of you, causing you to crash into his chest. 

“Hey! What’s the big id-“

“Oh, now you finally talk.” You blushed and pouted up at him. He bent down to your height with his hands in his pockets. “What’s your issue now, squirt?”  He asked while gently flicking your forehead. 

“You were mean to the barista and you didn’t even apologize!” 

“Apologize? Seriously? You’re still mad about that?” 

“Yes, I’m still mad! You didn’t have to use your quirk back there, and he most certainly WASN’T flirting with me.” 

“What’re you saying? Are you actually taking his damn side?!” 

“I never said that! I’m just saying you didn’t have to be mean to him!” 

You pretty sure both of you were screaming at this point. You had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and there’s no doubt that you’ve already attracted the attention of a crowd. 

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t talk to, Bakugo! And you honestly can’t expect me not to talk to boys other than you!” 

“Yes I can!” 

“No. You. Can’t!” 

“I’m your boyfriend, y/n! It’s my job to keep pervs like him away from you. You’re mine!” 

“Pervs sure! I can accept that. But NOT friggin polite baristas who was just handing me my order!” 

“Damnit, y/n, can’t you STOP with that barista crap?” Katsuki’s eyes were completely full of rage now. “What, do you like him now or somethin? Is that it?” 

“WHAT?!” Seriously, where in All Might’s name did he get that from? “No. I don’t! ARGH! Why can’t stop being so controlling?” 

“I’ll stop being controlling when YOU stop being a damn brat for once and just do what I tell you?!” 

Oh…

That. Was. IT! 

Before you could blink, a loud slap was heard, and you felt a slight stinging in your palm. Opening your eyes that you didn’t even know were closed, you saw Bakugo’s head turned to the side, eyes blinking as he let your actions sink in. 

You felt a slight guilt in your gut, but you pushed it back down. 

“Y/n, I-“ 

“You can forget about today, Bakugo. I’m going home.” Before you could let him follow, you turned around and threw the paper bag at his face, running fast and as far away from him as possible. You made sure, he didn’t see a single tear roll down your cheek. 

You had put your phone on silent the moment you got home, not wanting it to keep dinging while you cried your eyes out.

Who did he think he is anyway? He was right, he is your boyfriend. But that gave him no excuse to say what he did back there. He’s just...just...

“ARRGHHH!” Your screams were muffled by the pillow your were crying on, thankful no one was home today. Needless to say...you really shouldn’t have thrown that cookie at him. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the lunch bell ringing loudly. You shook your head and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

“Hey y/n, you coming along?” Asked Uraraka. 

“You guy go on ahead, I’m gonna do fix some stuff.” 

“Alright, see you later!” She waved while walking off with Iida and Deku.

It was a lie, obviously …Since it was lunch time, Maybe...Bakugo would finally give you a proper apo-

He’s gone...

You really should’ve known better. You sighed once more and packed your books, wondering if maybe…it’d be best if you…well…you DID slap his face in the middle of the sidewalk…and threw the cookie at him…and.

“Oi squirt!” You jumped in your seat and quickly grabbed your chest. “Geez, you’re gonna be a future hero, but you’re get scared of me going up in your-“ 

He stopped talking once he noticed your angry glare once more. Katuski grumbled and rubbed the back of his neck, turning away and avoiding your heated gaze.  

“Listen…just….I’m sorry, okay?” 

Oh?

“I know…I was a jerk yesterday, and…YES! I didn’t have to say those damn things to the barista…and you.” 

OH!

“It was a dumb thing to say and you’re not a brat. You’re not a puppet for me to control either. ” He staggered with his words, his voice almost sounded like it was cracking…but Bakugo still didn’t meet your eyes. 

You had to keep yourself from smiling. Guess he had it in him after all. Before you could tell him that he didn’t need to say more, he continued on.

“I was just…Jealous….I hated the fact that other guys were looking at you and making you smile, and that I’M not the one at the receiving end of it.” 

“Bakugo-“ 

“You should be allowed to talk to your other friends…even though they’re not me. And I understand if…if you…

“Baku-“

“IF YOU WANNA BREAK UP WITH ME, THEN I GET IT! I just wanted to apologize for…well….everything…and for the other times I-“ 

“BAKUGO!” 

“WHAT?!” 

You pulled at his collar and pulled in him for a kiss, Bakugo freezing for a split second before returning it. He pulled away first. 

“W-Wait…why did yo-“

 “You’re forgiven too, hot head.” You finally gave him the smile he loved so much and gave his cheek a quick peck. “And…I’m sorry too for slapping you in the face and throwing the cookie bag at you.” He chuckled, and kissed your forehead. 

“It’s fine squirt, I deserved it. I’ll buy you another one next time.” 

“Does this mean, you’ll apologize to the barista too?” 

“Don’t push it.” He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there….probably. 

[jaskiersvalley]

I just wanted to say a) oh my gods the cute laiden fluff I die. b) holy crap you wrote that cute Little!Lambert fic I found a bit ago! Nice!! And c) rawrkin explicitly told me you were nice and worth messaging and who am I to pass up such an endorsement? I love your stuff it's very good. 💜💜💜

Considering I’ve already come and made a twit of myself in your inbox in response to this, I’ll keep it brief (and in reverse order). C) @rawrkinjd is out there being lovely and spreading rumours that I’m nice XD We all know they are the real sweetheart here! B) I’ve had a few more asks about Little Lambert come in (with Aiden getting involved too...) so there may be more of that to come. C) Fluff is where my heart will always lie. There are so many unhappy endings in real life, let fandom be where everyone gets to be happy and cute. With that in mind, I may work a hint of Laiden into your thank you ficlet which is a vague companion/follow-up to this one. :D

It seemed that Yennefer wasn’t best pleased with how winter was shaping up. The path up to the keep was still open and Lambert had been glancing out towards the approach regularly, as if expecting someone. Eskel seemed to be in on it, sometimes standing with him, a hand on the small of Lambert’s back, murmuring a soft “he’ll be here” at times. That already had Yennefer rolling her eyes. She still seemed quite bitter that her spell to turn the witchers into children hadn’t taught whatever lesson she wanted to instill in them.

As it tended to be, things came to a head with Jaskier. He had tugged playfully at one of the decorative ribbons on Yennefer’s dress as they moved around the dining hall, settling down for dinner. As Jaskier sat down, Lambert glanced longingly towards the door with a sigh.

“Have your happy families,” Yennefer growled and Jaskier was enveloped in a puff of purple smoke. As it cleared, a large eyed child sat in his place.

Nobody dared move for a moment, taking in the sight of a de-aged Jaskier until Lambert cleared his throat. “Oh no. He’s adorable.”

Not just adorable, also impeccably well mannered. Jaskier ate his dinner, already behaving like a dainty little lordling. It was all endearing and none of the witchers could look away from a toddler who had more table manners than the lot of them combined.

“Thank you very much for dinner,” Jaskier lisped. and Vesemir could see every stone cold witcher heart thaw in the room - including his own.

Settling Jaskier down for the night was an easy affair, he was sleepy, seemed quite determined that as it was evening, he would go to bed. That night, the wolves gathered in front of the fire and sighed.

“I didn’t think children could ever be this polite.” As he spoke, Vesemir stared into the fire. “None of you lot were ever this good.”

Famous last words. In the morning, Jaskier was gone. Not disappeared but definitely nowhere to be found. His altered scent led the witchers on a merry trail across the whole keep. Even worse, there was the occasional childish giggle and the patter of feet but Jaskier was nowhere to be found. They spent a whole morning looking, splitting up and taking different floors and wings of the keep, even going into areas that had been considered closed off for decades because nobody wanted to remember what happened behind certain doors.

It was futile, Jaskier was nowhere to be found. Even worse, the trail grew cold, there were no pattering feet or more giggles. The witchers reconvened in the dining room, looking haggard already, only to find Vesemir stood in the middle, staring up into the rafters, one hand raised to silence his wolves. Without a word, he pointed up into the vaulted ceilings. Only thanks to enhanced vision did the witchers see the small figure draped over a girder, arm dangling limply as Jaskier slept.

“How to we get him down from there?” Eskel asked, looking around.

“My question is, how did he get up there?” The counter from Lambert was also a fair one.

Before any answers could be give, Geralt broke into a run with “he’s rolling!” grunted between puffs of exertion. Sure enough, Jaskier had turned from his back to his side and gravity was doing its thing. Almost in slow motion, Jaskier toppled from the rafter.

“Eskel! Aard!” Geralt yelled. Only years of training together had Eskel sending a moderate blast towards Jaskier’s falling body. It won them enough time that Geralt could leap the final few meters and he caught Jaskier in his arms, his own shoulder slamming into the ground rather than their bard’s.

“Again! Again! Again!” Jaskier trilled, seemingly waking up without any kind of transition from sleep to sleepy to awake. Before anyone could react, he was up and off, rushing into the kitchen and, a moment later, running across a beam up high. “Catch me Geralt!”

The next minute Jaskier was falling again with a childish “whee!” and Eskel had to use aard to direct him towards Geralt once again. Thus the newest game was born. Jaskier had boundless energy to run, climb and jump, only to repeat again. And again. And again. Even Eskel was feeling the strain, his signs coming out weaker while Geralt huffed and puffed at having to run around to catch Jaskier who jumped off random beams, never the same one.

“Last one, then it’s lunch time,” Vesemir’s voice was clear through the hall and Jaskier took a running jump, almost missing Geralt as Eskel’s aard didn’t give him enough of a boost.

Sitting at the table, Jaskier eyed the plate of food, heated up remains from the previous night. While the witchers tucked in, Jaskier pushed it around on his plate before shoving it away.

“I don’t like it.”

“You ate it yesterday,” Geralt replied around a mouthful.

“But I don’t like it today. I want grouse.”

Even if Kaer Morhen had a stash of grouse, they wouldn’t have cooked any just because Jaskier was being picky. They ignored his indignant kicking of the table leg. The first sniffle and smell of salty tears had all of them looking up. Jaskier’s cheeky were ruddy red and large crocodile tears trickled down his cheeks.

“But I want grouse,” he wailed, voice breaking on a shriek.

Vesemir had honestly thought he had seen everything in his many years. But not once had he watched a child slither down a chair, muscles lax yet tight with rage. On the floor, Jaskier truly let loose, screaming, little fists pounding into the stone of the floor. The witchers all froze and stared at each other, not knowing what to do.

“If you won’t eat it, you’ll go hungry,” Vesemir ventured when Jaskier took a breath. Another howl of rage was his only answer.

Eskel was the first to decide this wasn’t for him. He picked up his plate and carried it into the kitchen, finishing his meal there, Geralt rapidly joining him. A look was exchanged between Vesemir and Lambert, neither wanting to be the last one left with a hysterical child. By virtue of being nearer the door, Vesemir won and made his hasty retreat.

Left alone with Jaskier, Lambert looked at his plate and then towards the door that led to the entrance of the keep. When no help seemed to come, he shrugged and kept eating.

There was a lull in Jaskier’s theatrics and Lambert felt a small wave of relief. “Hey kid, you done?”

“No.” More screaming.

“Okay.”

Eventually, Jaskier ran out of steam. After lying under the table for a little longer, he climbed out and sat back on his chair, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at the plate.

It was less than a day since Jaskier had turned into a child and already the witchers were tired. Not just the regular fatigue but the kind where they would have fallen into a pile in front of a fire and slept for probably a whole day. Eskel was worn ragged from all the signs, Geralt from the stress of catching Jaskier, Lambert’s nerves were fraying from the screaming and Vesemir thought he was too old for this shit. Sadly, his concoction only worked on witchers, otherwise he would have already pinned Jaskier down and forced a dose of the stuff down his throat.

The main door to the keep opened and a newcomer strolled in. A little put off by the lackluster greeting, Aiden followed his nose and found the others in the dining hall, a child opposite Lambert.

“You came,” Lambert sighed a waved. Three heads peered out from the kitchen and Eskel waggled his fingers with a tired smile.

“I did. And who is this? A Child Surprise?”

“Jaskier. The brat. I mean. The bard.”

Looking around, Aiden suppressed a smirk. He had a good idea what had been going on. Rather than make a big thing of it, he pointed at Jaskier’s plate. “You going to eat that?” A stubborn shake of head was his answer. “Sweet. I’m starving so you won’t mind if I-”

He cut off his words as a fork almost stabbed him in the hand. “Guess I’ll get my own plate then.”

The others watched as Jaskier glared at Aiden and hurriedly stuffed his food into his mouth, hunched over the plate. For his part, Aiden hid his triumphant grin and walked into the kitchen, getting a slight shoulder bump in greeting from Eskel.

After lunch seemed to settle down, the wolves were rather hopeful of an afternoon nap. Children did that, right? They piled in front of the fire, grumbling. Aiden joined them, Jaskier sat triumphantly on his shoulders and clutching his hair.

“Now,” Aiden said, “we need to put these big babies to sleep. Can you help me tuck them in?”

Little hands patted the throws down that Aiden draped over the other witchers. He tried not to laugh at how they were all drooping, cuddling up into a tangle of limbs.

A few hours later they woke in various states of decoration. Lambert had a candle stuck up his nose, Eskel’s hair was tied into a lot of small bunchies while Geralt’s face was scribbled on in charcoal and ash, giving him the most incredible eyebrows and scowl. Meanwhile, Vesemir was adorned in anything shiny that could be found in the keep.

“What the-?” Lambert growled and looked up at Aiden who was far too entertained.

“You left me with the kid. We kept ourselves entertained.”

Sitting up, Vesemir had to try and hide his own amusement. “How are you so good at keeping up?”

“He’s no worse than any other kid.” The shrug from Aiden seemed genuine. “You had them here too, didn’t you?” A look at the wolves and Aiden’s eyes went round. “You were all quiet and serious, weren’t you? Other than Lambert but even his firecracker ways were muted by comparison.”

It seemed that destiny had already matched the children to the schools they would fit in with the best. And it was safe to say, if Jaskier had been destined to be a witcher, he wouldn’t have been a wolf.