#trust in today. today felt good. today was reassuring. and now its just. not

[natsaffection]

Trust | N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

‼️I ask those who may be triggered by drugs, addiction or Mental health issues not to read this story.‼️

Summary: You dealing with drug addiction post the loss of your girlfriend, Kate. Natasha aids you through withdrawal, relapses, and recovery.

Warnings: explicit descriptions of Drug use, withdrawal, Mental Health, Angst, Angst, Angst

Word count: 8,9k

A/n: Okayyy, something different today. PLEASE if you want/need help, you always can come to me. I know that I'm not qualified to be a contact person on this topic, but I'm open to everything and am here for support.🫂

You feel a lingering fear of sharing your newfound feelings for Kate, despite Natasha's reassuring presence. The uncertainty gnawed at you, making you hesitate before bringing up a topic you'd never spoken openly about before.

“Nat,” you began hesitantly, your eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “Um, can I ask you something personal?”

Natasha, sharp as ever, nodded with an encouraging smile. “Of course, Y/N. You can ask me anything."

You take a deep breath, your words stumbling slightly. “Well, you know, about…feelings. How did you feel when you realized you liked women?”

A subtle change in Natasha's expression showed you understanding. She leaned back and turned her thoughtful gaze to you. “It’s like a journey..Recognizing that you are attracted to women, or anyone, can be both liberating and confusing. Society may have its expectations, but the heart knows what it wants.”

Carefully, you listened intently as Natasha continued, “It's about being attracted to someone, wanting to be close to them, and caring deeply for their well-being. It's not always loud or dramatic; sometimes it's a quiet understanding that grows over time."

You took in Natasha's words, a subtle smile playing on your lips. Encouraged by Natasha's wisdom, you hesitated for a moment before revealing your own feelings. "Well, there's someone on the team...Kate...and I don't know, I just feel different around her. It’s like my heart skips a beat when she’s around and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Natasha, with a knowing gleam in your eyes, teased you gently, “Ah, young love. It sounds like you’ve already figured it out, Y/N.”

Blushing, you confessed, “I never thought I would feel this way. It’s confusing, but… it feels good.”

Natasha laughed heartily and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Love is often like that, Y/N. Take your time, enjoy the journey, and don't be afraid to explore those feelings. Life is full of surprises."

With Natasha's guidance and a newfound understanding, you embarked on the gentle path of love discovery, with Kate's presence in your heart casting a gentle glow on the canvas of possibilities before you.

And it was good that you confided in Natasha. Not just with tips, but now also with actions. It didn't take long for Kate to notice your feelings. You still remember hiding from her when you found out she found out. But it turns out that Kate also felt the same about you and had spoken to Clint about tips.

And that was almost 2 years ago now. The team was happy when you made your relationship public and supported you every step of the way. Since then, the tower has also become a little brighter.

Kate and you once decided to cook a meal together and you turned the kitchen into a lively space full of laughter and shared glances. Steve, curious about the excitement, joined you and offered to add his touch to the recipe. Amid the chaos, Natasha couldn't help but smile at the domestic bliss that was unfolding.

Or when The Team met for a movie night and you both immediately secured the prime spot on the couch. As the movie began, Tony joked, "I hope you two left some room for the rest of us.." Laughter echoed through the room as you and Kate playfully made room for the others.

Everyone was happy for you both. When Kate planned a surprise date night, she whisked herself away to a rooftop deck decorated with fairy lights and a picnic offering. The team in on the plan secretly helped create the romantic atmosphere. Natasha, watching from a distance, couldn't help but appreciate the love that had blossomed among their ranks.

These sweet and heartwarming moments highlighted the joy and camaraderie you and Kate brought to the team, creating a fabric of shared experiences and laughter within the walls of the Tower.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

In the shadow of a moonlit night, the Avengers set out on a mission with an atmosphere of tension hanging heavy in the air. You and Kate, now a formidable duo, moved with precision, your every step choreographed by years of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. However, the mission took an unexpected turn when a swarm of enemies descended on them.

Amid the chaos of the mission, you two were temporarily separated and each placed with other team members. The air crackled with tension as the enemies closed in, testing the Avengers' courage. You, who was fighting alongside another teammate, felt a shiver run down her spine as a call echoed through her communication device.

“Y/n, we need you here. Now!” Steve’s urgent voice cut through the commotion, sending a chilling sense of foreboding through your veins. Panic gripped your heart as you sprinted across the battlefield, dodging incoming threats with the determination to reach them.

When you arrived at the scene, your worst fears came true before your eyes. The team, a gathering, stood around Kate's fallen form in a heartbreaking tableau. Natasha's typically stoic expression betrayed deep sadness and Steve's eyes, which were usually a beacon of hope, were clouded with sadness.

Your legs felt like lead as you got closer, a disbelieving whisper escaping your lips. "No no no..."

Kate, lying amidst the team's muted grief, managed a weak smile as you knelt next to her. “H-Hey,” she croaked, blood staining her lips. Your hands shook as you reached out, a desperate attempt to hold on to the slipping threads of life.

“Kate... We can fix this. Someone, help her!” your voice rose to a desperate plea as your eyes scanned the team for a glimmer of hope. But the weight of realization eased as the team exchanged dark looks.

Natasha, her voice barely above a whisper, spoke words that cut through the sorrow. “Y/n, it’s-.”

"NO!" The team that witnessed the heartbreaking exchange was in collective fear. Clint, his otherwise sharp mind silenced, stared at the scene with tear-streaked eyes. Natasha, a pillar of strength now crumbling, approached with a heavy heart, knowing the cruel truth that was unfolding before them.

Kate gathered her last reserves of strength and raised a hand to gently caress your cheek. "I think it's my time... Promise me...promise me you'll keep fighting, p-please.."

“I can’t lose you, Kate. I can’t,” you choked on your words, your hands shaking as you held on to the fleeting fragments of a love that was slipping away from you.

“Help her! Please, someone help her!” your pleas fell on deaf ears as the team stood in collective grief, each struggling with the weight of an irreparable tragedy.

The air became filled with sadness as Kate's breathing grew weaker. With one last, tender look, she whispered, "I will always be with you," before she closed her eyes and the battlefield fell into sombre silence.

The team was heartbroken and defeated and grieved together. You, a shattered echo of your former self, clung to a memory of Kate's love, a bittersweet reminder of a sacrifice made in the name of heroism. In that moment, grief became a silent companion, and the Avengers retreated from the battlefield, forever scarred by the eerie specter of loss.

After Kate's death, you sought solace in the chaos of missions, using the relentless pursuit of danger as a temporary escape from the haunting grip of grief. Days blur into nights, and the weight of grief casts a shadow over your once vibrant spirit. The Avengers who witnessed the change watched with growing concern as you, once a beacon of hope, became a ruthless force on the battlefield.

One fateful day, as you prepared for a mission, the weight of the past weighed heavily on you. The team, unaware of the impending descent, prepared for the mission, unaware that their teammate had fallen into the shadow of violence and self-destruction.

As the mission unfolded, you acted with calculated ruthlessness, a dangerous sharpness to your actions that sent waves of unease throughout the team. Natasha, always perceptive, approached you in a moment of calm, her voice a solemn echo amid the chaos.

"We worry about you. That's not the way to cope," Natasha pleaded, a mix of concern and sadness in her eyes. But you, caught in the storm of grief, rejected the words, as your actions were evidence of a mind clouded by the shadows that loomed within it.

The mission reached its climax and in a frightening twist, you found yourself facing an enemy who felt the pain that fueled the ruthlessness. “I see the suffering in you,” the opponent remarked with a sinister grin on his lips. The rest of the team, unaware of the exchange, continued the mission.

When the dust settled, you once stood alone with a mysterious figure, struggling with the lingering echoes of violence. The adversary revealed knowledge of your past and led you down a darker path. “I know what you once were, what you have lost. I have something that can numb the pain,” they whispered treacherously, revealing a vial of medicine with the cruel promise of respite.

You hesitated in the shadows, your inner struggle reaching its peak. The lure of numbness, a fleeting escape from unrelenting torment, collided with the lasting memories of a time when happiness and laughter were not hidden in the shadows. The vial, a twisted offering of comfort, floated in the air, casting a long, ominous shadow over the broken soul of an Avenger trapped in the labyrinth of despair.

You were faced with a decision that you had already weighed many times. The pressure, the weight of loss and grief had piled up into a crushing weight on your soul. In a world surrounded by shadows, the seductive promises of drugs offered a tempting escape.

The decision came in a moment of silence, when the suffering that plagued you seemed unbearable. The room was flooded with a dim light as you held the small bag containing the seductive substance in your hands. The content, inconspicuous in appearance, held the promise of an escape from the painful realities of life.

The hesitation was brief, a fleeting moment before you made the decision that would change your fate. The drug you had heard would bring you comfort and oblivion became a companion in a lonely act of desperation.

As the substance found its way into your body, a wave of release coursed through your veins. A fleeting euphoria enveloped you, lulling your senses into a false peace. The weight of loss seemed to slip from your shoulders for a moment and the world took on an unreal glow.

But in the midst of this apparent consolation lurked the bitter irony of escape. The drug that appeared to be a savior unleashed a chain of illusory moments of happiness that snaked like shadows through your mind. The oblivion you sought turned out to be a nefarious game with reality.

As you gave in to the high, you had no idea that the supposed salvation was actually a pact with the demons who were just waiting to sink their claws deeper into your soul. The moment you first reached for the drugs became a dark turning point that steered your fate into an uncertain darkness. You told yourself it was just this once. but once became twice and that became dependency. You've found the best routine for yourself and the best way to hide it from your tea. everything went perfectly. You felt perfect

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

In the dimly lit corners of the city, Natasha navigated the shadows. While on a covert mission, she unexpectedly crossed paths with the mysterious figure who had played a sinister role in your descent into addiction a few weeks ago.

The shadowy figure leaned against a graffiti-covered alley and grinned as Natasha approached. “Well, if it’s not the Black Widow herself. The Avenger's pride and joy,” he sneered, his words dripping with a poisonous mix of mockery and malice.

Unimpressed, Natasha replied with an iron stare, “Save it. You’re dealing with forces you can’t handle.” The figure giggled, an eerie sound that echoed in the deserted alley. “Oh, I completely can. Your precious Avengers, addicted to what they are fighting. It’s really poetic.”

Natasha frowned in confusion and shot back, "You’re talking nonsense.” The figure leaned forward, a malicious grin playing on his lips. “Think about it. Your star Avenger, who you all put on a pedestal, danced with the devil. Drugs, darkness. your team is in ruins.”

A sinking feeling gripped Natasha's chest as she processed the revelation. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place and she understood the insidious truth behind his words. The figure, gloating over the chaos he had indirectly sowed among the Avengers, whispered one final taunt: “Your precious hero, addicted and broken. It’s almost beautiful, isn’t it?”

As Natasha left the encounter, the weight of the revelation rested on her shoulders. The Avengers, her family, were caught in a dangerous web, and the realization strengthened their resolve to unravel the darkness that threatened to consume them. The shadowy figure, a puppeteer reveling in the chaos, left Natasha with the grim awareness that the battle ahead was more than just physical - it was a battle against the intangible, the shadows that lurked in the hearts of those closest to her hearts lay.

Natasha, burdened with new suspicions, retreated to the Avengers compound with a storm of thoughts running through her head. As she walked through the familiar halls, an unsettling sense of foreboding cast a shadow over her normally calm demeanor.

She remembered the countless nights she had spent navigating the labyrinth of grief, the ghosts of her own past that had driven her into dark corners. The possibility that you too would succumb to a similar descent set alarm bells ringing in Natasha's experienced intuition.

The Avengers compound, once a haven of camaraderie, now seemed to echo with the haunting footsteps of uncertainty. As she navigated the team's daily hustle and bustle, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had changed within its walls.

As she reviewed mission reports and team activities in the command center, Natasha's gaze found herself lingering on the patterns that emerged. You, once a living force, had become a phantom within the compound - missions, isolation, the echoes of isolation. A shiver of realization ran through Natasha as the puzzle pieces aligned with the shadowy figure's taunts.

Doubts gnawed at Natasha's resolve. She understood more than anyone the labyrinth of grief and the treacherous paths it could lead someone down. The idea that you had fallen into the grips of addiction was a haunting revelation that threatened to shatter the team's fragile balance.

A heavy sigh escaped Natasha's lips as she thought about the path that lay ahead of her. Her footsteps echoed with purpose as she made her way to your quarters, her inner conflict reflected in the furrow of her brow.

Natasha approached your room with a mix of determination and concern, ready to face the shadows that loomed within. But as she reached for the doorknob, a lingering feeling of emptiness came over her - the room was empty. The echo of silence in your quarters only added to Natasha's unease.

Looking for signs of your presence, her eyes fell on a flyer lying casually on the bedside table. The bright colors and bold typography hinted at a world beyond the Avengers compound – a world of pulsating music, flashing lights and escapism. A world that Natasha, all too familiar with her dual nature, recognized as a potential harbinger of trouble.

The flyer revealed the name of a club whose location was a landmark for those seeking refuge in the anonymity of the night. Natasha's jaw clenched as she connected the dots, the realization weighing like a lead weight on her chest. Tangled in the web of self-destruction, you had sought solace in the beating heart of the city's nightlife.

The decision was made quickly, driven by Natasha's unwavering determination to avert the impending crisis. She left your room, the flyer in her hand, and moved purposefully towards the exit of the premises. The walk to the club became a silent pilgrimage through the shadows, each step bearing the weight of an impending confrontation.

As Natasha approached the club's entrance, the rhythmic pounding of the bass and the neon lights pulsing through the night signaled the chaos that awaited her. With a deep breath, Natasha entered the realm where you had sought refuge - a world shrouded in darkness and fueled by the very substances that threatened to consume her.

The search for you in the club's dimly lit rooms became a thrilling exploration, guided by the menacing rhythm of the music and the scent of fleeting escape. Natasha, the relentless guardian, pushed forward through the sea of ​​faces, driven by the urgency to intercept you before the shadows could claim another piece of her soul.

The club, a cacophony of pounding beats and swirling lights, drowned out the tumult in Natasha's heart as she set out on a quest to free you from the clutches of the night's embrace. The shadows grew darker, but Natasha, driven by unrelenting determination, walked through the darkness in search of the Avenger caught in the dangerous dance with self-destruction.

In the dimly lit alley, the distant bass tones of the nightclub echoed off the walls. She guided by an intuition honed through years of espionage, arrived just in time to witness a disturbing scene. You, caught in the web of distraction and vulnerability, were picked up by an older woman with questionable intentions.

Without hesitation, Natasha intervened. Quick as a flash, she positioned herself between you and the older woman, her eyes narrowing with steely determination. "Back off. She’s not interested.”

The older woman, momentarily surprised, attempted a defiant grin. “She seemed pretty interested inside. Mind your own business. But if you feel like it too, I don't mind sharing her.

Natasha, looked at the woman seriously. The look ran with a mix of graceful precision and controlled aggression. It didn't take long for the older woman to realize she was inferior.

As the woman retreated into the shadows, Natasha turned her attention to you, who stood swaying, caught between the haze of intoxication and the reality of what was unfolding. “What the hell are you doing? Do you even realize what just happened?”

Your gaze was unfocused and your pupils dilated, scoffing dismissively. “Mind your own business, Natasha. I can manage on my own.”

Natasha, whose voice held a mix of anger and concern, closed the distance between the two of you. “It’s my business if one of my team members gets out of control. What’s wrong with you, y/n?”

As Natasha's gaze pierced through the haze of your consciousness, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Caught in a cycle of self-destruction, you had sought refuge in substances that dulled the pain but fueled the chaos.

Natasha’s expression changed from anger to dark realization, “You’re not coping, Y/n. You're drowning. We have to do something.” You, fueled by a cocktail of emotions, lashed out with a sudden outburst of anger. “Why do you care, Natasha? You are not my mother. Leave me alone!"

Natasha refused to back down and spoke with a raw honesty that cut through the chaos. "Enough! I know what you're doing! So stop it!”

Y/n, caught off guard and exposed, reacted defensively. “You know absolutely nothing! What do you think you know about me, huh?”

Natasha, determined to break through the wall she had put up, reached out and tried to offer support. “I understand enough to know that you're feeling bad, and whatever you're trying to cover up with it isn't the solution. We are a team. Let us help you.”

But you, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions, didn't hear Natasha's request. Instead, you screamed in frustration, a primal release from your inner turmoil. "I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone!"

As your anger escalated, Natasha tried to hold it back with a mix of sadness and determination. You, lost in a haze of substance-induced rage, lashed out at Natasha, her movements fueled by a dangerous game of alcohol and drugs.

Natasha, strong yet gentle, tried to hold you back, but the fight continued. The alley, now a battlefield of broken emotions, echoed with your agonized screams. “Y/n, calm down. You’re not thinking clearly!” Your mind, clouded by the effects of the substances, continued to fight against Natasha's grip. "Let me go! I dont need your help!"

Natasha tried to break through the haze around you in a firm voice. “You’re not feeling well. We have to help you.” Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, lat du struck again. “I said let go!”

But Natasha, leaning on her own resilience, persevered and was determined to see you through the storm. The longer the moments lasted, the more your resistance weakened. Natasha's unwavering presence, a lifeline in the chaos, slowly seeped into the haze that enveloped your consciousness. “It's okay. I will help you with this.”

In the midst of the battle, a profound change occurred. You, overwhelmed by a sudden realization, stopped in Natasha's arms. The torrents of anger turned into quiet sobs, the weight of her own struggles easing.

Your voice was now a fragile whisper, choked with tears. "Something's wrong, Natasha.." Natasha, feeling the tremor of vulnerability, held you with a newfound tenderness.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

The air in your room was heavy with the pungent smell of despair. With a heavy heart, Natasha entered the dimly lit room, caution evident on her face. You lay motionless on the bed, a stark contrast to the lively mind Natasha knew.

The creaking of the door went unnoticed as Natasha moved closer, her gaze lingering on the shell of the person in front of her.

Natasha carefully sat down on the bed next to you, the mattress sagging slightly under the weight of their shared loads. “Y/n,” she began, her voice weaving like a delicate thread through the oppressive silence. "We need to talk."

Your eyes, dull and lacking their usual spark, turned to meet Natasha's gaze. A heaviness spread across the room as the unspoken words loomed between them.

"I spoke to Bruce," Natasha admitted, choosing her words with careful precision. Your expression changed, a mix of curiosity and cautious skepticism.

"He thinks therapy might help," Natasha continued, bracing herself for the expected resistance. Your eyes, once full of defiance, now showed a weariness that broke Natasha's resolve.

"Therapy?" Your barely audible voice had a hint of contempt. The mere mention seemed to awaken a calm storm within them.

Natasha continued undeterred. “I know you don't like the idea, but we can't go on like this. You’re drowning and I can’t stand by and watch.”

Your gaze hardened, a silent protest forming in your eyes. “I'm not weak, Natasha. I don’t need a psychiatrist analyzing my every move.”

Although Natasha was hurt by the words, she stuck to her beliefs. “This is not about weakness. It's about finding a way to free yourself from the chains that bind you. Bruce thinks it might help.”

The room seemed to narrow as the tension of their conversation faded. Natasha, struggling with the intensity of the moment, reached out and grabbed your hand. The touch, once a source of comfort, now felt like a lifeline stretched thin.

Your eyes flickered, caught between defiance and a hint of vulnerability. Natasha's words, while harsh, were borne of a deep concern that went beyond their role as friends. "I know you're tired of feeling like this," Natasha continued, her voice cutting through the darkness with steady strength. “You deserve a chance to live without the weight of this situation weighing you down.”

The room, once a battlefield of silent fighting, became one where Natasha's conviction collided with your reluctance. “Bruce thinks this can help, and so do I. We can't keep dancing around the truth and hoping things will magically get better," Natasha assured, her gaze unwavering.

You, now faced with Natasha's unyielding determination, hesitated. The room echoed with the weight of their shared pain, the air filled with the anticipation of a decision that could change their journey.

“I can’t watch you slip away, Y/N,” Natasha admitted, her voice soft but determined. “You are not alone in this, but you need more than what I can give. Let’s give therapy a chance together.”

In this charged moment, your defense faltered. A silent agreement emerged between them, a shared recognition that the path to healing requires courage and collaboration. Despite the darkness that surrounded her, Natasha found a glimmer of hope in the small victory of breaking through the resistance of you.

The therapy sessions began with a hint of concern between you and the therapist, Dr. Reynolds. You, sitting in the dimly decorated room, shifted uncomfortably, looking around as if searching for an escape route from the vulnerability you were about to reveal.

Dr. Reynolds, a calm and empathetic presence, began gentle probing, trying to uncover the layers of your struggles. However, you found it difficult to articulate the chaos within. Although the room was intended for healing, it felt like an interrogation chamber.

Bruce, who was present as a support person, observed the dynamic and recognized the difficulty you faced opening up. Sensing the struggle, he interjected in a soothing tone. “It’s okay to take your time. Therapy is a process and we are here to help you get through it.”

Your eyes met Bruce's, a fleeting recognition of gratitude in the midst of the inner storm. Slowly, they began to share fragments of their journey, stumbling over the words as they tried to express the pain that lurked in the shadows of their past.

Dr. Reynolds guided you through the turbulent memories with compassionate understanding and helped you confront the root causes of your addiction. The room became a vessel for shared revelation, each session peeling back layers of pain and revealing the raw vulnerability you had hidden for far too long.

Bruce acted as a bridge between you and the therapeutic process, providing insights and perspectives that resonated with your experiences. His presence became a comforting constant, a reminder that healing was possible, even in the darkest recesses of the mind.

In the first few therapy sessions, Natasha, recognizing the sensitivity of the process, positioned herself at the door. Her presence, a silent but reassuring guardian, provided you with a bond of familiarity amidst the vulnerability of therapeutic exploration.

Finding it difficult to articulate the jumble of emotions, you occasionally glanced toward the door, finding comfort in the knowledge that Natasha was standing guard, offering her silent support. Although the room was an arena of introspection, it had a connection to the outside world - the world in which Natasha waited, a steadfast ally.

You thought this was the hard part, but you were so wrong. In the suffocating grip of withdrawal, you fell into a whirlpool of torment. Each passing moment was a relentless tide of physical and emotional torment, a relentless attack on her core.

Nausea, an unrelenting companion, cramped your stomach and left you doubled over in a desperate attempt to quell the churning abyss within you. Your sweat-soaked and trembling skin became a battlefield where the feverish heat fought against an inner cold that seemed to penetrate into your bones.

Natasha, who witnessed your suffering, felt a helpless pain in her chest. The room, once a sanctuary, now echoed with the agonized moans and gasps of someone caught in the merciless grip of retreat. Your eyes, once full of defiance, now had a haunted look - a reflection of the torment within.

Every muscle screamed in protest, a symphony of pain that seemed to reverberate through the fabric of your being. Although it was silent, the walls of the room seemed to close in, increasing the dissonance of your suffering.

Although Natasha was torn by the sight before her, she remained unwaveringly present. She tenderly wiped the cold sweat from your forehead, her touch a fleeting comfort in the midst of the storm. As your body writhed under the relentless symptoms, Natasha's words became a tale of resilience - an anthem to drown out the haunting whispers of doubt. “Look at me, Y/N,” Natasha urged, their eyes meeting. “This pain is temporary, but your strength is permanent. You are fighting for a better future and I am here with you." But the helplessness in Natasha's eyes betrayed the turmoil within her, a silent plea to ease the torment that seemed to consume you.

Your gasping gasps became a symphony of desperation, of fighting an invisible force that threatened to drown you in a sea of ​​despair. In this cruel dance of withdrawal, Natasha, who stood by your side, was confronted with the harsh reality that the road to recovery was often paved with moments of agonizing suffering.

The second day dawned with a faint glimmer of relief as the hard grip of retreat began to loosen its grip. Although you still struggled with residual symptoms, you found comfort in the lessening intensity of the physical torment. Natasha, who was constantly present, continued to offer me encouragement.

As the morning sun bathed the room in a soft glow, Natasha helped you master the delicate balance between rehydration and nutrition. Every sip of water, every bite of food meant a small victory

Throughout the day, Natasha guided you through gentle exercises to ease the stiffness that remained from the long ordeal. Although the conversations were muffled by the echoes of disengagement, they began to turn to topics that went beyond the immediate struggle - a subtle sign of emerging resilience.

The third day heralded further relief from the physical strain, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief. Attuned to the intricacies of recovery, Natasha felt the gradual return of vitality. Together you ventured out of the room and moved through the common areas of the tower with cautious optimism.

Therapy sessions resumed, providing you with a structured opportunity to process the emotional impact of withdrawal. Although Natasha was aware of the delicate nature of the journey ahead, she offered words of encouragement and reinforced the idea that each day of recovery was a triumph over the shadows.

Outside, the tower was bustling with activity, a vibrant backdrop to the ongoing healing process. Even though you were aware of the fragility of your newfound stability, you somehow appreciated the support of the team and the encouraging nods and smiles from Natasha - a testament to the shared commitment to overcome the challenges that remained after the withdrawal were.

As therapy progressed, your evolving focus and growing comfort in the therapeutic space became apparent. Natasha, watching from her post, noticed a spark of determination in your eyes, a spark that seemed to grow brighter with each session.

The therapy room, once an intimidating space, transformed into a sanctuary where vulnerabilities were exposed and healing began to take root. And outside that door remained Natasha, a pillar of strength, ready to welcome you back into the world with open arms, knowing that the road to recovery was a shared endeavor.

In the quiet evening hours, Natasha found herself in the living room, deep in conversation with some other team members. Laughter and camaraderie filled the room, momentarily easing the weight of their shared burdens.

As the animated chatter continued, Natasha's eyes wandered to the hallway and she caught a glimpse of movement. Once trapped in the shadows of your room, you cautiously stepped out and made your way to the kitchen.

A subtle change in Natasha's expression conveyed a mix of emotions - surprise, hope and a hint of concern. The living room became a silent theater in which the unfolding scene promised progress. The others in the room were unaware of the meaning and continued their discussions.

Although you moved hesitantly, you radiated a new sense of determination. Walking from your room to the kitchen became a symbolic step toward independence, a silent proclamation that resonated louder than words.

Natasha, watching discreetly, felt a wave of pride and relief. The living room that now served as the backdrop for this subtle victory became a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. In that unspoken moment, Natasha glimpsed a future where you, once imprisoned by the chains of addiction, could navigate the common spaces of the tower with renewed strength and purpose.

In the quiet aftermath of a transformative month, you faced the outside world with new resilience..However, life tests one's resolve.

Weeks passed and you were alone in your room, you sift through the remnants of your past. Among forgotten belongings, you came across a hidden stash of old drugs - a relic from a time you wanted to leave behind. The sight triggered a flood of memories, each a whisper, leading her to accept what you were for you fought so hard.

A tumultuous internal struggle ensued as you seized the contraband. The room seemed to close in, the weight of the past weighing on you. Despite the progress you've made, a voice inside you whispered seductively, urging you to once again surrender to the familiar comfort of escape.

Knowing what needed to be done, you glanced at the door and considered the journey down the hallway to Natasha's room. But an invisible force held you back, a stubborn resistance to revealing the remnants of a darker chapter.

Natasha's words echoed in your head, "You're not alone in this." Despite the internal conflict, you couldn't shake the awareness that you needed to reach out. The inner tug of war intensified, the battle between progress and regression becoming evident in the quiet confines of your room.

What's the harm in giving in just one more time? Only once?

Your shaking hands betrayed your inner turmoil as you succumbed to the lure of the old drugs. The room seemed to close in, the weight of your choice settling on you. A wave of guilt and regret washed over you, but the temporary escape offered a strange comfort.

In the silence of your room, you struggled with the decision, the lure of familiar numbness clouding the progress you had fought so hard for. The realization that they had chosen a temporary reprieve over a long-term cure sunk deep within them.

As the effects took hold, you caught a glimpse of a reflection in the mirror. A look that was filled with both disappointment and resignation. The space that had once been a sanctuary now felt like a prison of your own making.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you moved with an unsettling calm, your eyes glazing over as the effects of the drugs took hold. Finding food became a mechanical task, a distraction from the reality you wanted to escape.

Natasha entered the kitchen, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “Hey, I was just coming to get something to eat with you. How are you feeling?” she asked with genuine warmth in her voice, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface.

You managed a weak smile, a feeble attempt to hide the chaos inside. Little did Natasha know that the steps she had taken moments ago were leading you down a dark path. Again.

As Natasha's gaze lingered on you, a subtle change in the air betrayed her intuition. Recognition dawned in her eyes, a moment of quiet understanding that penetrated the façade. The pride she had felt moments ago turned into the poignant realization that her battle with addiction was far from over.

Natasha's expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and concern crossing her face. “Y/n, what did you…” she began, her words trailing off as the truth became obvious. The kitchen, once a sanctuary for shared meals and camaraderie, was transformed into a battlefield where the consequences of a moment's oversight were laid bare.

You managed a casual shrug, trying to downplay the severity. “Just a little relapse, Nat. No big deal,” you reply with a casual tone, as if revealing your own struggle was inconsequential.

Natasha's eyes narrowed, her concern turning to seething anger. "No big deal?" she replied, her voice full of disappointment. “We fought so hard and you treat it like it’s nothing? Do you realize what this is about?”

You try to brush it off, but fail under Natasha's intense scrutiny. Natasha's anger swirled with a deep sense of betrayal as she faced the reality of your choices.

"I thought you were committed to this, to your own well-being," Natasha continued, her anger tempered with a hint of heartbreak. The air crackled with tension, a clear departure from the camaraderie that once filled the room. “Nat, it was just a temporary thing. I can handle it,” you insisted, a feeble attempt to salvage her own sense of control.

"I thought you understood!" Natasha continued, her frustration rising to a desperate plea for understanding. "You risked everything!" Natasha's voice reached a crescendo, echoes of her anger reverberating off the walls. “Where did you get it from? Do you have more?”

She asked you now and you actually thought about what you wanted to say, “I told you it wasn't that bad! It was just a bag that I found, my God, don’t get so worked up now!”

As Natasha’s rage reached its peak, she stormed into Your room with a determination that left no room for escape. The door slammed shut behind her, sealing the room in an atmosphere of tense confrontation. You were surprised and felt a wave of fear rise within you as Natasha's anger grew stronger.

In a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control, your fear turned to anger. The muffled sounds of Natasha rummaging through your belongings triggered a wave of frustration and you began banging on the door with increasing intensity.

“Natasha, what the hell are you doing?!” You screamed, your voice a mix of anger and desperation. The room, once a private sanctuary, now reverberated with the cacophony of emotions bouncing against the walls.

Inside, driven by the determination to uncover the truth, Natasha continued her tireless search. In the search for answers, drawers were opened and belongings were scattered. The atmosphere in the room reflected the storm outside the closed door, a storm of conflicting emotions that blurred the line between frustration and anger.

Your screams grew louder, a blunt expression of the turmoil raging within. “Stop going through my things! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS!!” You scream and pound your fists against the unyielding door. The room became a battlefield where emotions clashed, and each blow on the door reflected the discord between the two souls locked in a battle against the shadows.

Amid the chaos, Natasha's hand closed around a small stash of pills. A discovery that only heightened the gravity of the situation. The air crackled with tension as the locked door witnessed a confrontation that transcended the physical realm and dissolved the threads of trust and resilience that had once held them together.

The moment Natasha left your room, holding the damning evidence in her hand, the air between you crackled with unbridled tension. You, still seething with anger, wanted to unleash a flood of emotions, but when your eyes fell on the pills, fear suddenly gripped your heart.

Desperation gripped you as you tried to intercept Natasha on her way to the kitchen. “Natasha, w-wait! You can’t do that!” You beg, your voice sounding urgent. But Natasha, determined to her mission, proved too strong and brushed aside your attempts to intervene.

In the kitchen, Natasha approached the sink, determination written all over her face. You, desperate and excited, continued to beg her to reconsider. “Natasha, please, just listen! Y-You don’t understand what it’s like,” you cried, her words a desperate plea for understanding.

The first pill landed on the bottom of the sink, setting off a cascade of emotions that echoed through the room. Your protests grew louder and more frantic, but Natasha, undeterred, continued to dismiss the remnants of your hidden struggle.

As Natasha took the last pill, a wave of pent up and festering emotions erupted within you. In a moment of pure frustration and desperation, you stopped. “STOP IT, NATASHA! YOU DONT GET IT!"

The commotion caught the attention of others in the tower. They watched wide-eyed and curious as the conflict between Natasha and you escalated into a full-on confrontation. The once harmonious space now reverberated with the dissonance of broken trust and unbridled emotions.

Driven to the edge, you lunge at Natasha, a storm of rage driving you forward. Natasha, reflexes sharpened by years of training, dodged the attack, redirecting the force and pinning you against the wall. The impact reverberated with a thud, and the room was momentarily silent from the collision of bodies.

“Enough, Y/N! We had that before!" Natasha's voice cut through the air, her eyes shining with a mix of frustration and concern. She held you in place, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that gripped their journey together. "Why? Why are you throwing away all the progress we've made?" Natasha demanded, her own feelings bubbling to the surface.

You were trapped against the wall, struggling against Natasha's grip, your voices rising to a crescendo as the echoes of their confrontation reached the team's ears, witnessing a painful rupture in the unity that had once defined their shared battle with addiction .

Natasha, her nerves frayed and her patience exhausted, let out a guttural scream that echoed through the walls of the kitchen. The sound, raw and primal, rang in the air like a storm of pent-up frustration and exhaustion. In that moment, every ounce of restraint crumbled, and Natasha's roar became a visceral release - an expression of the unrelenting pressure that had been building within her. "WHY CAN’T YOU SEE WHAT YOUR’E DOING?!" She roared, the intensity of hers Voice sounded with a ferocity born of frustration and desperation.

You, pressed against the wall, feel the force of Natasha's anger like a physical weight pressing down on you. Natasha's screams, now filled with raw and unfiltered rage, broke through the façade of composure and revealed the extent of her emotions.

The kitchen, once a place of communal eating and laughter, now echoed with the unbridled fury of Natasha's screams. It was a cry that tried to penetrate the walls of denial, to break through the layers of self-deception that obscured your struggles. Every word, every syllable bore the weight of countless battles fought in the shadows.

“Why do you keep destroying yourself? Do you even care about the people who are trying to help you?" Natasha's voice reached a feverish pitch, her scream interrupted by the harsh truth she dared to speak. “I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself like this! What more do you want from me?” Natasha’s cry of bitter resignation hung in the air like an unanswered request.

As Natasha's screams subsided, the raw aftereffects of her anger lingered in the air. Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting a mix of frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

"I-Ican't do this anymore.." Natasha's words, now a torrent of tears and heartache, flooded the room. The once adamant agent was vulnerable, her anger tempered by the heartbreaking realization that her efforts might be in vain.

You, still reeling from the force of Natasha's anger, met her tear-filled gaze with a mixture of guilt and sadness. The atmosphere in the kitchen went from a storm of anger to a haunting silence, broken only by Natasha's tearful plea. It was a request that hung heavy in the air - a desperate cry for you to realize the gravity of the situation and the toll it was taking on your connection.

You, battered by Natasha's verbal attacks, could only respond with a weak "I-I'm s-sorry.." But Natasha was not appeased. “A sorry won’t fix this, Y/N! This is about trust, the foundation of OUR recovery!” Her anger was like a storm that swept through the room, leaving devastation in its wake.

As Natasha's tirade continued, you, caught in the vortex, finally broke down as well. Tears streamed down their faces, the weight of guilt and the pain of Natasha's anger becoming an unbearable burden. “I want to get clean, Nat, I really d-do..!” They screamed in desperate voices amidst the chaos.

Natasha's anger wavered for a moment and was replaced by a piercing sadness. “Then why did you do that? Why did you throw everything away?" she demanded, her voice a mix of betrayal and heartbreak. "I don't know..."

Your voice shook as you avoided Natasha's gaze as you said, "I... I want to get clean, Natasha. For myself, but also for you..please..” The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of guilt and the deep desire for redemption.

Natasha, sensing the genuine turmoil in your admission, hugged you comfortingly, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. You, unable to meet Natasha's gaze, felt a flood of emotions welling up inside you and tears streaming down your cheeks.

As the tears mingled, Natasha whispered soothing words, a promise that echoed in the silent room. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but in that tender moment, you and Natasha found a shared commitment - a fragile but sincere agreement to face the daunting road to recovery together.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cityscape as Natasha parked the car outside the rehabilitation clinic. The air was thick with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you stepped out, the weight of the past few months hanging heavily in the air.

The entrance of the clinic loomed ahead, its sterile facade a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in your life. As you walked through the automatic doors, a sense of trepidation and determination battled within.

The clinical white walls and hushed tones of the facility marked a departure from the familiar surroundings of the Avengers compound. This was a space where healing took precedence, a space where the journey to recovery would unfold.

Natasha accompanied you to the reception area, her presence a source of silent strength. The receptionist handed you a small plastic card – a symbol of the commitment to sobriety that lay ahead.

“Here’s your room key and schedule, Y/N. Your counselor will meet with you shortly. Welcome to the clinic.”

As you made your way to the assigned room, the sterile hallways seemed to echo with the weight of countless stories of struggle and redemption. The door opened to a modest room, devoid of the familiar belongings that once defined your space.

The first night in the clinic passed in a blur of emotions – a mixture of anxiety, hope, and the raw reality of withdrawal. The absence of substances that had become a crutch left you vulnerable, the intensity of the cravings clawing at your resolve.

Natasha, though not physically present in the room, had become a constant presence in your thoughts. The echoes of her support and determination acted as a lifeline, grounding you in moments of weakness.

The counselor, a compassionate figure experienced in guiding individuals through recovery, became a confidant. The sessions were intense, delving into the root causes of your addiction, and the painful memories that fueled the spiral into darkness.

Days turned into nights, marked by a routine of therapy sessions, group discussions, and the gradual easing of withdrawal symptoms. The camaraderie with fellow residents, each battling their own demons, offered a sense of shared strength and understanding.

In the midst of this, Natasha continued to play a pivotal role. Her letters and occasional visits acted as a bridge connecting the clinic’s sterile environment with the warmth of the outside world. The words she penned were a lifeline, a reminder of the love and support waiting beyond the clinic walls.

Weeks passed, and the initial turbulence of withdrawal began to subside. The fog of cravings lifted, revealing moments of clarity and self-discovery. The connection between mind and body, once distorted by substance abuse, gradually began to mend.

Natasha’s visits became a source of motivation. Her proud smiles and encouraging words fueled your determination to overcome the shadows that had threatened to consume you. The bond between you and Natasha, tested by the storms of addiction, emerged stronger in the crucible of recovery.

As the three-month milestone approached, a mix of emotions surged within. The plastic card that had once symbolized vulnerability now stood as a testament to resilience. The journey through the clinic had been a battle against the shadows, a battle waged with the unwavering support of Natasha and the newfound strength within.

The final counseling session arrived, marking the end of the structured environment that had become a cocoon for your transformation. The counselor’s words carried a sense of pride, acknowledging the progress made and emphasizing the importance of continued vigilance in the outside world.

The last night in the clinic was a bittersweet moment – a farewell to the routines and safety nets that had defined this chapter. As you stood outside the clinic’s entrance, Natasha’s presence by your side reflected the shared victory over the shadows that had threatened to consume you.

The journey from the clinic back to the Avengers compound was a silent reflection of the miles traveled – both in physical distance and the depths of self-discovery. The walls of the familiar compound welcomed you back, the echoes of camaraderie and shared battles resounding in the air.

As you stepped into the Avengers compound, the weight of the plastic card in your hand felt both symbolic and grounding. The sense of accomplishment mingled with the awareness that the journey continued beyond the clinic walls.

Natasha, beside you, offered a reassuring presence. The shared glances spoke volumes – a silent understanding that the road to recovery was an ongoing process, a commitment to face the challenges that awaited.

As the door to your room in the Avengers compound swung open, a wave of warmth and welcome enveloped you. The room, once stark and sterile, had transformed into a haven of celebration. A large banner hung across the wall, bearing the words "Welcome Home, Y/N – We're Proud of You!"

The room was adorned with colorful decorations, each carefully chosen to radiate positivity and encouragement. Balloons danced in the air, carrying messages of support, and a bouquet of vibrant flowers sat on the bedside table, a burst of nature's beauty against the neutral backdrop.

The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, an irresistible aroma that beckoned you further into the room. A plate of cookies, lovingly arranged, awaited your arrival – a sweet gesture to mark the beginning of a new chapter. "Thought you might need a little treat. You've earned it."

A care package rested on the bed, filled with thoughtful items to make the transition back to the compound smoother. A cozy blanket, a journal for reflections, and a collection of inspiring books formed a personalized ensemble – each item chosen to nurture the mind, body, and soul.

Natasha handed you a small envelope. As you opened it, a collection of heartfelt letters from fellow Avengers spilled out – words of encouragement, shared memories, and expressions of pride in your journey. The bonds of camaraderie had never felt stronger.

Steve's letter read: "Y/N, welcome back. We missed you. Your strength is an inspiration to us all."

Bruce's note carried a touch of humor: "Who knew we'd be celebrating with cookies? Just remember, I've got green tea ready whenever you need it."

The room had been transformed into a celebration of your triumph over the shadows of addiction. The collective efforts of the Avengers, led by Natasha, had created an environment that echoed with gratitude, love, and an unwavering commitment to your well-being.

As you took in the sight of the welcoming room, Natasha offered a reassuring smile.

Natasha: "This is your sanctuary. We're here for you, every step of the way."

The room, now a tapestry of support and celebration, became a haven where the echoes of resilience and triumph mingled with the promise of a brighter future. The Avengers had welcomed you home with open arms, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead – a testament to the strength of bonds forged in the crucible of recovery.

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

Snowball Princess 🔞

In which Yoongi is just tired- but also the happiest he's ever been.

Tags/Warnings: Snowball Princess AU, Husky Hybrid!Reader, Idol!Yoongi, mentions of poly!BTS x reader, Fluff, romance, suggestive themes oops, hints at smut whaaaat?, cockwarming

Length: short >1k words

A/N: yes I just did that :)

❄️.━━━━━━━━━━.👑.━━━━━━━━━━━.❄️

Yoongi wakes up slowly, remembering barely that he's got a day off today for once to relax and recharge.

There's another body in the hotel bed, but he's not alarmed by it- you're here because he wanted you to be, after all, and he wouldn't have it any other way. When he moves a little to stretch his limbs, you move as well- snuggling up to his side, cuddly as always, legs entangling with his underneath the covers.

But there's something else he notices more slowly, realization kicking in as to what happened last night.

You're naked, well, almost- bare chest pressed against his arm as your breath fans over his equally bare skin. You're both only wearing the bare minimum, and he's reminded from the faint hickey he can spot on your chest what happened some hours ago.

Groaning a bit annoyed because the mere thought of it has him rise in his underwear yet again.

It had happened naturally, so to say. You'd talked, eaten something for dinner in the hotel room, had played around like always. But this time, when he'd turned in bed to lean over you and kiss you goodnight, something had changed. It had been a little strange at first, how easy and natural it felt to him to get so close, hands calm but also a bit hesitant to undress you at first. But the reassurance from your side and his own in return had created the perfect environment for something so monumental, the entire act a dance between gentle love and desperate lust.

He loves you- so much, and you know that, now more than ever.

Scenes from last night fight its way back into the front of his mind as he thinks about the way you'd looked at him, pure trust as you fell into his hands, giving him all control to love you the way he deemed fit that night. It's not to blame on your heat at all- that had just ended a few weeks ago, so you were completely clear in your head and aware of the step you took.

And from the sight of your red cheeks and wagging tail as you look at him with a tired smile, it's also sage to say that you don't have any regrets, which is the last thing he'd needed to let himself freely love you for sure now.

"Hello there." He greets you with a raspy tone, and you lean in a little closer, kiss the tip of his shoulder before you yawn, stretching. It's a bit embarrassing to admit to himself that the mere sight of your bare body moving next to him, combined with the satisfied exhale that you make after stretching your legs and arms, has him definitely up and ready yet again even though he's barely awake.

But yeah can't bring himself to be ashamed.

"Come here, love." He says, helping you move as you lift your leg and straddle him- the way your eyes widen a little a telltale sign that you noticed the clear election hrs Sporting. "You're so pretty, you know that?" He praises, and you smile to yourself.

"You tell me a lot." You say, voice still laced with sleep. You yawn again before you adjust yourself, forcing his eyes closed at the sensation of your warm body over his sensitive length. "Was it.. good?" You ask, presumably referring to last night. He chuckles, eyes still closed, hands however very much confident in where to go as his palms run over your bare legs, front the tips of your knees up to your very hips.

"Perfect." He almost purrs. You preen yourself at that.

"Do you.." you wonder, before you seem to grow a bit more serious. "Does that mean.. I can't love the others anymore?" You wonder.

Yoongi shrugs. "I'm already sharing you with the others, am I not?" He says. "You kiss Jungkookie too, after all. Don't think I haven't heard about you two making up." He teases sleepily, and you squirm a little.

"But.. what if.. let's say jungkookie.." you mumble down at yourself. ".. wants this too?" You ask with hesitance-

But yoongi shrugs.

"Like I said." He says, lifting his arms above his head for a moment. "I'm already sharing you. Who you love in what way is up to you." He explains.

"So-" you try again, and he chuckles.

"If you and Jungkook want to have sex, I won't mind. Neither will Hoseok, or jiminie, or Jin, or anyone." He clears up bluntly. "We all love you. Though I will make sure everyone knows that I was your first." He mumbles to you, making you a bit shy. "My baby has a lot of love to give-" he softly tells you, eyes watching how you move a bit now. "-and it's only fair she gets a lot of it back in return." He shrugs.

And it feels like you've finally realized.

Your hands move carefully as you take him out of his underwear, your own pulled to the side as you let the head of his cock run over your core, collecting all of your already present arousal. It forces a low purring sound from him, and you really think that he might be an undercover cat hybrid with the way he sounds like.

"God.." he sighs out when you sink down on him, taking him in and keeping him there for a good moment. As a hybrid, you can't get pregnant if not in heat- but Yoongi is still careful. "Baby- condom-" he reminds you sleepily, but you whine.

"Can we.. stay like that?" You ask. "Just for a bit?" You wonder, and he chuckles softly.

"Yeah." He nods, eyes still closed, thumbs drawing circles on your skin. "Yeah, fuck- come here." Here raches out to you, and you lean down at that, upper body flush against his as he holds you.

And you both do indeed stay like that for a while, before Yoongi can't help himself but chase you out to fetch a condom.

You're just too irresistible.

[ariseur]

you stood there as you and zack both stared at each other. his hands, once holding cardboard swords similar to the ones you used as kids when you two would sneak off to whatever small clearing you could get in gongaga and clash, now held a thick metal sword. a sword that you recalled was the first class SOLDIER, angeal hewley’s, most prized possession. at least that’s what you heard from zack. he always did admire him, you wondered where angeal was at now.

you almost felt guilty that zack trusted you enough to tell you all these things, even with you as a turk. you felt guilty standing there, knowing that the man you loved was the man who you were supposed to kill. you felt guilty as you reminisced on the missions where you saw zack so excited, the two of you following tseng’s orders. you felt guilty knowing that zack just dreamed of being a soldier, he didn’t ask to be roped into all of this.

his hands stayed firm around the handle of the sword, the sheen metal glimmering in the sun as it practically blinded you. in his eyes, they stayed not the blue you were so used to, but instead a glowing aqua as the mako infused itself with the natural color of his iris.

“how did we get here?” you asked, your weapon remained in its holster as you not dared to use it on zack. a frown graced itself upon his lips although his weapon never faltered.

“i don’t know.” he said.

you spotted the man behind him, obviously unconscious as his head hung low. his blond hair covered his face but you could clearly see the calm rise and fall of his bulky uniform-clad shoulders.

you looked back up, zack’s eyes never leaving yours as they held such a solemn slant. you could’ve sworn his eyes started to glaze over, tears washing out the glowing tones of mako resonating in his irises. swallowing thickly, you spoke again, “you have to go, zack. they’re on their way. you don’t understand—“

with a soft call of your name, you looked up again. god, look at you. a turk, one of shinra’s goons, and there you were choking up at someone who had a manhunt out for him.

“i’ll be alright.”

“zack, no—“

“go.” he said, managing to give you one last meager smile before nodding his head to the other side of the cliff, a small opening where one could pass through and flee. with your bottom lip quivering, you glanced back at zack. he nodded his head at you in reassurance, lowering his sword and sheathing it once again.

your breath quivered as you sighed and began walking to the small crawl space, your footsteps heavy with each aching step you took.

the cool wind suddenly felt more evident in the air against your sweaty palms, wiping them against your black sleek uniformed pants. you could feel zack’s eyes on you, watching you trail away— and you almost didn’t turn around until you were face to face with your exit ticket out of there. his name felt thick on your tongue as you breathed out a call of his name, “zack?”

just the syllable was enough to leave a bittersweet taste in the back of your throat, swallowing in hopes of moistening your now dry mouth. you turned your head slowly to look at him. he adorned that same smile as he always did, the same smile he’d wear when he’d get good news from lazard or when he had triumphed in a sparring session.

you recalled the numerous times you two would rant to each other. he’d talk about how well it was going over there, how much work he had put into himself and his job.

and you recalled how you’d talk about your latest victories and accomplished missions, although you always rambled about your latest failures as well. that memory shifted to the front of your mind as you managed to flash a poignant smile whilst you talked once more, mimicking the tone you’d use during your late night talks, “man, you know what sucked today?”

he cocked his head.

“i failed my mission.” and with a wistful grin, he gave you one last nod.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about unassuming yandere sukune

Just always being aware that he was a large dude (width and height) but he’s been nothing but gentle since the two of you have been friends so you never really take his cuddly (clingy and possessive ) behavior too seriously

just imagine one day you realize friends dont act like this but its already too late, you’ve let him get away with it for this long you guys might as well start dating its not like anybody could measure up to him anyways.

Me with this ask

Love it. Adore this idea.

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Eyes On Me

Yandere Sukune x Oblivious! Afab Reader

……………………………………….

It wasn’t uncommon for her best friend, Sukune, to place his hand on the small of her back, but today it felt different… his hands cupped the top of the flesh of her bottom to the point that it was uncomfortable. He had been kind of touchy as of late once she told him about a guy she was interested in…

(Your name) glanced her head up at Sukune who simply gave her a small, innocent smile. The large man raised a brow at her anxious expression.

“Are you alright, (nickname)?” Sukune asked softly, his eyes full of concern. Perhaps her mind was overthinking things… Sukune probably wasn’t purposely making her uncomfortable.

“Your hand is a bit low, Nomi.” (Your name) muttered, the man immediately removed his hand. Sukune apologized.

“I’m so sorry, I hadn’t realized.” Sukune bent down to her height and offered her his hands. She put her small hands in his much larger ones. “I never mean to make you uncomfortable, okay?”

(Your name) smiled and nodded. She knew Sukune was a good guy, he’d never do anything to hurt her.

Sukune pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled back to give her another smile for reassurance.

“Are you tired of walking, I noticed you’re limping a bit.” Sukune pointed to her shoes, his gaze softened at her red toes. “Those are new, right?”

(Your name) blushed. Sukune was always so attentive to her needs, he was such an amazing friend… she nodded her head and she was instantly scooped up and held up in the crook of his arm.

“This is much better, right?” Sukune gave her a bright smile as he carried her. “How about I buy us some ice cream?”

(Your name) giggled and laid her head back to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re the best, Nomi.”

Sukune smiled softly, but there was a darker emotion behind his obsidian eyes. He’d been in this role for awhile now and he didn’t know how much he could handle before he finally broke.

Sukune smiled down at (your name) who cuddled into him. She was so naive… so trusting. (Your name) was so lucky he was the one who took interest in her. God only knew what would happen if some other man with I’ll intentions did…

Sukune would keep her safe from the horrors of the world and from heartbreak. All she needed to do was realize what was right in front of her and all would go smoothly…

If not, it’s not like he couldn’t give her the lush she needed to see him in a different light. Sukune was determined to be her lover and her protector.

But for now, he was okay with being her best friend and closest confident. He was sure the loneliness would set in soon once she noticed all of her potential boyfriend was out of the picture. She didn’t need to look at any other man other than him…

“(Your name)?” Sukune smiled when she turned her head to the side to look at him. “Eyes on me.”

[amaterasuomikamisblog]

Love Me While You Can

Summary:you and your husband Miguel are married for four years and have a three daughters and you were expecting another child but something happened...

Warning:Cheating,Not very accurate character but i tried,death, miscarriage,very very sad angst, established relationship

Miguel O'Hara x Y/n

Author note:Go listen to Good Looking and Me and My husband while reading this

Me and my husband Miguel are married for four years and we had three beautiful daughters, Everything was lovely as usual,One day i was thinking about surprisingg him about us expecting another child but that was changed

"Miguel?" I rubbed my eyes as i look at my husband taking off his coat "Dear? Why are you still up in the middle of the night?" Miguel said as he approached me and pulled me into a very warm embrace "I was waiting for you ofcourse! What took you so long at work?, I looked up to Miguel as i asked him curiously as then Miguel gulped as he chuckle nervously "Oh...i was.." Miguel was stammering "did your workload increased?"

I asked "OH! yeah more complients was happening but don't worry...now lets go to bed shall we?" Miguel smiled but it seems fake , i nod and we headed upstairs to sleep

"Estella? Can you call your daddy for me?" I yelled gently as my two an a half year old daughter peeked at the laundry room door "Sure mommy I'll go call dada!" Estella smiles as she ran to her father,As i looked at my husband stained collar shirt, it was stained by a dark red lipstick a very familiar lipstick color for me.

"My dear i reassure you that lipstick stain is from you!" Miguel told as he embraced me in his arms but this time i felt no warm towards it "Miguel you know i don't wear a lipstick in this shade.." I looked at the lip stain on my husbands collared shirt " Please my dearest

Trust me! Thats from you!" Miguel pleaded as i nod "if thats what you say so then.." i squirm away from my husbands embrace,As he let go of me i sighed knowing that i was just lying to myself and am just letting my husband gaslight me i let him be After all am willing to eat up the lies he feeds me even though it's slowly breaking my heart .

Today my husband left his lunch box probably forgeting to carry it with him as he was rushing to work for waking up late,I wanted to give his lunch box after all i don't want him to eat something else that wouldn't probably fill up his stomach, I walked up to his office door and i heard something it was him and his sidekick? ,I pressed my ear in the door as i held the lunch box i was carrying tightly my heart was pounding in my chest as

I breathe heavily "Jess i don't know we can do this right now your pregnant and our spouses might get suspicious.." i heard my husband voice as my eyes widen and i gasp quietly as i feel tears threatening to fall down

To my face i closed my eyes as i palms started to get sweaty "Miguel its alright your wife wouldn't know at all and my husband too!" Jessica said "No jess lets stop what were doing right now we can do this after you give birth and my wife already doubting me i dont wanna lose my daughters!" Wet tears started to fall down my face as i wipe my eyes ,I gave my husband lunch to lyla his assistant.

Starting that day i wore a fake mask towards my husband my pregnancy buldge started to get big but i still didn't tell Miguel at all it was so painful cleaning our house and seeing the picture frames of our cherished memories it

Made me think what did i go wrong to Miguel

,I showered him enough praises and love ,it hurts my heart was pounding alot as i started to slide down to the hall wall as i began to break down it hurts alot why? Why can he do that to me? I spent almost 5 years with him and everything was fine..why did the God choose me to suffer? What did i do to deserve this? I sobbed as the duster i was holding fall to the floor making a big thud as it clashes over the floor "Why? Please tell me why..?" I mumble as my vision gets blurry from my tears "PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME WHY!?" I screamed as i breakdown more into tears as little footsteps can be heard it was estella she was looking at me worriedly and scared as her lips was formed into a frown

"Mama?" Estella started to walk towards me and knelling besides me as she try to put the

Stray hair that was covering my face tucked into ears "mama dont cry please?" Estella was holding my hand as i sob as i pull her into an embrace i sobbed with Estella in my arms it was so filthy of me making my daughter see me in this state of mine i sobbed as Estella started to soothe me, i calm abit.

I held my stomach as i feel a aching pain i started to breathe heavily as Estella started to get teary seeing me ventilating then i felt a huge pain i did a muffled scream not wanting to scare my child then i felt a warm drippy liquid between my legs i looked at the floor it was blood i started to panic as i covered my daughters eyes by pressing her head to my chest as i screamed i felt something get out of my womb , then the front door opened as my husband yelled "Dear am home where are you!?" Miguel yelled as he quickly took off his coat and goes upstairs he see blood and his eyes widen as hes eyes trailed to the blood and towards me holding our eldest daughter to my arms covering her eyes as i breathe heavily "Y/n!" Miguel rushed towards me and Estella as i refuse to make eye contact with him Miguel was checking my pulse as i looked at my daughter's blurry figure as i leaned towards her forehead as i make her look up to me, As my daughter looks at me with her big doe eyes i smiled as i saw her,

As i leaned down to whisper to her ear "Estella i love you so much my dear..i-i hope that you have a nice childhood that i wanted you to have.." then i slowly closed my eyes as my husband yells no repeatedly as i feel my daughter hugged me tighter as she scream "mama please don't leave me i be a good girl please!" I whispered in my last breath " Your mama is gonna sleep for a bit okay?.." then everything was blurry.

[clickoly]

(super late) @oknutzy-week-2024 Day 5!

Thank you for the fantastic prompts and the amazing fest. And, of course, thank you to @lumosinlove for these wonderful characters.

Here’s the fifth part of Starboys, a Cubs Formula One AU.

Prompts: Party, Surprise visit

Links to: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Ao3

•••

Down for the ride

Leo had lost count of the number of planes he’d taken in the past months, always on the run for any opportunity to fly home to his family, or just to follow the team around. But it was never on a private jet—much to the dismay of his miles-long legs—or with such good company.

According to the radar on screen, they were flying over Kuala Lumpur. A quick look out the window took Leo's breath away, stunned by the still disbelieving feeling of being on top of the world, with the sun sinking behind an endless field of cottony clouds. 

It looked like the sunset in Milan had a couple of weeks earlier—warm and magical—from a terrace overlooking the skyline of an already quiet city. That night, they were supposed to attend the annual party in Monza after the Italian Grand Prix, but Logan had come up with a better plan to celebrate his victory, and perhaps to cheer Finn up a bit. 

They had ended up in the fanciest bar Leo had ever set foot in, tucked away at a table out of sight, bathed in the late summer breeze that pleasantly cooled the open space. Leo had felt pampered and maybe out of place, but never within their conversations and their warm smiles. Not with Logan reassuring him that he deserved all that and more, nor with Finn making him feel freer than ever before, in a way he’d never experienced with someone he barely knew.

Finn O’Hara, whose Italian was fluent enough to order the finest wines Leo had ever tasted, and to chat casually with a group of fans they had run into—who had also congratulated Logan and Leo on the good race.

Finn, who was now relaxed in the chair opposite him, obviously lost in the pages of his book, barely moving from time to time, except to push his glasses up his freckled nose.  

When Leo glanced at him furtively, their eyes met, and so did their smiles.

"Everything okay?" Finn said.

Leo tilted his head and peeked across the aisle at Logan. "Does he always sleep this much?"

Logan was wrapped in a very warm looking blanket, long since fallen into a deep sleep. Finn's laugh was teasing, but he was looking at Logan with nothing but affection. 

Leo had seen that look before. Never in public, where insatiable eyes were constantly on the hunt—for an autograph, a selfie in the best case, otherwise ready to catch a breaking scoop. It had been there the night before, back in Leo's humble apartment, where they had all sheltered after an exhausting day at the Silver factory.

I'll get something good for dinner, Finn had offered. I got you.

Leo had seen Finn wearing new shades of that lopsided smile, so private, something he probably kept to himself and the few he trusted. How he got lucky enough to witness it, Leo couldn't say.

"Rarely," Finn answered his question. "We usually have very strict routines for flights like this one, so we don't get jet lagged."

"And which one of you is breaking the rules today?"

Finn pointed a finger in Logan's direction. "The baby will get all grumpy at the party if he doesn't nap." 

That made Leo giggle, but then something urgent and completely unrelated came out of his mouth. "Thank you, Harzy."

Finn's face lost its playfulness, but it was nonetheless bright when he hummed questioningly.

"I don't know..." Leo laughed softly. "I'm just... happy. Yeah. Glad I met you two."

Leo didn't know what surprised him more. He had imagined Finn making a joke, telling him that he was being silly. He certainly hadn't expected to see him still, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as he tried to mouth words he apparently couldn't let go of.

"Oh boy," Leo's jaw dropped. He raised an eyebrow at Finn's flattered look. "Did I just leave Finn O'Hara speechless?"

Silently, Finn closed his book and sat up straighter, shaking his head dramatically. "Nutty, Nutty, Nutty..."

"That's me."

Finn leaned his elbows on the tray table between them, his brown eyes—beautifully bruising—locked with Leo's blue. "There's no way you can shut me up," he said, dead serious. "You'll never stand a chance."

"Is that a challenge?" Leo bit back.

Finn shot him a sly wink, "Please, be my guest."

Leo didn't miss a beat. He mirrored his position, dizzy head supported by his hands, impossibly close to Finn's impassive face. 

Could Finn see his fast pulse pounding hard against his throat or was it just a feeling? 

"Looking forward to it, O'Hara.”

A moment passed, filled only by the insistent roar of the plane's engines. And then they burst out laughing, so uncontrollably that Leo had to wipe tears from his own eyes as he leaned back in the seat. He watched as Finn muffled his loud laughter behind big, strong hands, shoulders still shaking as he tried to control himself.  

"What the hell are you laughing at?" a sleepy voice grumbled, and a flying pillow hit Leo's head. 

"Ouch," Leo laughed louder. 

Logan groaned from where he was propped on one forearm, his dark curls a mess, glaring at them with just one half-open eye. "Weirdos." 

"C'mon Sleeping Beauty." Finn reached out to grab the pillow from Leo's lap and tossed it back to Logan. "It's almost time for Nut's first night out in Singapore." 

It was another one of Leo's dreams to cross off the list.

In less than an hour, he'd be wandering the busy streets of Marina Bay, the same ones that once a year were transformed into a spectacular circuit—probably Leo's favorite on the calendar.

It was captivating in so many ways. The race was held at night, on a track that wound its way through downtown Singapore with a combination of low and high speed corners, making it one of the most twisty and challenging for the drivers—and exciting for the spectators to watch.

Leo wondered if it would look like it did on TV, a spectacle of lights from the city skyline and the circuit itself, painting a stunning backdrop against the dark sky.

"Oh sweetheart," Eloise Knut cooed over the phone. "I bet it's going to be even better than you ever imagined. I'm so proud of you."

Leo's lips curled into a smile, pure and wistful. "Wish you were here."

"We miss you too, honey," she said softly. "Time’s not moving fast enough. How long till Austin? Two weeks?"

"Yeah," the excitement in her voice made Leo laugh. "I can't wait."

"Ready for tonight?" his dad nearly shouted. Leo could picture them sitting together at the kitchen counter, the phone on speaker at full volume.

"I think so." Leo gazed at himself in the mirror of his hotel room. Unruly curls aside—still drying after a much-needed shower—Leo thought he looked good. He ran a hand down the silky white button-down, tucked neatly into his tailored navy pants. The sleeves were loose on his wrists, and Leo reached down to button the cuffs, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder to free his hands. "I'm just waiting for Logan to text me when he's ready."

"Logan, as in... Logan Tremblay," Eloise guessed.

Leo felt caught off guard. "Yes?"

There was a pause. "Huh."

"What?" Leo crouched down near the suitcase to find the bow tie. 

"Oh, nothing," she said casually. "Nothing, sweetheart."

"Mama."

"Have fun tonight," Eloise subtly avoided the topic. "And send me some pictures!"

Leo's deep sigh was a bit exasperated. He had told them everything about the last few weeks, about having Finn and Logan over for dinner. He had been thrilled to even say out loud that he had friends he felt he could trust, and talk to endlessly. But something in that huh hinted that she had clearly sensed more than that.

"I love you both." He let it all slide. It wasn't the right time, and frankly, he wasn't even sure what to say. "I'll call you soon."

–

Singapore Airlines was hosting an exclusive Grand Prix opening party. Big sponsors usually meant big events, and people were already speculating about all kinds of crazy things online.

"Marketing strategies," Logan explained. They stepped out of his car, provided by the team for the week—a recently released gem from Silver Motors, artfully customized in matte green to match the colors of Logan's racing helmet. With a quick smile and a confident nod, Logan handed the keys to the valet and led Leo to the grand entrance of the venue. "It's basically a business meeting," he said. "A shit ton of handshakes, pictures for the print..."

"Yeah, with an open bar, tremendous food, music and friends..." Leo scoffed. "It can't be that awful."

Logan was about to reply when he froze on the spot. A redhead, who Leo swore looked like Finn, was walking toward them, arm in arm with a girl. Bronze skin, chocolate brown waves tied up perfectly in a high ponytail. Leo knew it when she was close enough, as thick, long lashes fluttered open to reveal emerald green eyes. Logan's.

"Ugh, the enemies are here," the man's snarky remark was punctuated by a familiar grin, earning him a quick slap on the shoulder from his companion.  

"That's my little brother you're talking about, O'Hara."

Her accent, also Logan's.

"Okay, what's going on?" Logan huffed an incredulous laugh.

"Salut," the girl leaned forward to press a tender kiss to Logan's cheek before holding out her hand to Leo. "We finally meet," she said warmly. "I'm Noelle, Logan's–"

"Sister, yeah," Leo laughed bashfully. "Leo Knut, it's a pleasure to meet you." Leo's gaze shifted to a stubbled, freckled face and golden brown eyes. "And you must be..."

"Alex," the redhead shook his hand firmly. "I'm the better-looking O'Hara."

Well… Not exactly true, Leo thought. But he clearly had a point.

"What are you doing here?" Logan playfully shoved Alex. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Supportive sibling duties, Tremblay," Alex threw an arm around Logan's shoulder. "And we haven't been to a race together in ages."

That made Logan smile. "What about the tickets? How did you–"

"Celeste," Noelle said as if it meant something obvious. "She arranged everything, of course. It was very short notice, and we thought..." She and Alex exchanged a meaningful look. "We thought we should make it a surprise."

Leo watched Alex's jaw clench, a hard, bitter bite on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed hard before asking, "Where's Fish?"

"He just texted me," Logan put his phone back in his pocket. "He's waiting inside." 

Finn's expression was priceless when they found him. He broke off his conversation with James and his wife Lily mid-sentence and, in the blink of an eye, his eyebrows knitted together, a gleaming grin spread across his face, eyes wide, and then his lips quivered slightly as he all but threw himself into his brother's waiting arms. A couple of flashes lit up the dim room, greedily capturing the moment.

They got less than ten minutes of peace before a woman in a fitted black jumpsuit and high heels came to fetch Logan and Finn, asking for a quick interview with a representative from Richard Mille, one of the few sponsors they shared.

Leo looked between Alex and Noelle and smiled nervously. He wasn't sure what to do, he didn't want to be rude. Was he intruding? He probably should have left them alone.

But Alex wouldn't let him.

"The man of the moment," he said, placing a firm hand on Leo's shoulder. "Let's get something to drink, shall we?" 

Soft jazz and low yellow lights warmed the ambience. Waiters danced around groups of chatting people, flawlessly carrying full trays of gold-filled crystal glasses. 

Smooth tequila burned its way down Leo's throat. The zesty smell of lime and the rough grains of salt between his lips brought back bittersweet memories of fading tastes on his mouth that Leo rushed to wash away with another swig of his Margarita. 

When, when, when would he finally let it go? 

Meet me later, Le?

Alex and Noelle sat on the L-shaped couch across from him. They both looked stunning, Alex in his dark blue suit, tie already gone, and Noelle in a white halterneck dress that made her tan skin glow. Straight out of a James Bond movie, the two of them. And Leo didn't quite know what to do with himself. 

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you this in confidence," Alex began. "I know I'm supposed to be on the other team's side, but..." He sipped at his whiskey, dark and neat, and leaned forward to put the glass back on the small marble table between them. "That call in Monza? Fucking amazing, man."  

"Mhm," Noelle agreed. She nodded over the rim of her glass of sparkling wine. "And how you managed to get Lolo to listen to you, now that I'd really like to know." 

"He's got a reputation, huh?" Lolo. Leo couldn't help but laugh, face burning, remembering all the times he'd heard Logan's voice on TV, the scratchy team radios, making it a point to show his disagreement with any team strategy he didn't approve of. 

"You bet," a wry grin curled her full, red lips.

"You work in motorsports too, right?" Leo asked Alex. He was pretty sure he'd read his name on some article about the recent 24 Hours of Le Mans. "How come you chose the WEC instead of Formula One?" 

"Oh, y'know..." Alex breathed out a weak laugh, eyes dark, just as Noelle turned to look at him. "Right opportunity at the right time," he smiled at Leo. "Fish always insists, but... Maybe someday. For now, I enjoy being able to sleep in my bed for more than a week a month." 

Curiosity got the better of Leo, and the three of them ended up discussing the ins and outs of the World Endurance Championship, getting fascinating insights from the perspective of a front-page journalist. Alex seemed as caught up in the conversation as Leo was, telling him stories about his experiences in a way that reminded Leo of Finn, ever so enthusiastic when talking about something he loved.

Leo sank into their tales, too distracted to notice two blond heads moving in their direction. He caught Natalie's smirk just as she stood two steps away from the couch, behind Alex's back. 

"So you actually listen to me, Freckle," she said as she reached out to pinch at Alex's waist. "I told you that blue would suit–" 

Alex turned and Natalie went pale. 

"...you. Jesus Christ." Her eyes widened comically, and a dark flush quickly spread from her cheeks down to her bare collarbones. She blinked twice, lips moving tentatively, until she called out in a barely there voice to Kasey, who was behind her, biting his bottom lip to suppress a full blown laugh. "Babe?" 

Alex stared at her, suddenly speechless. Noelle had her eyes on Kasey, her mouth drawn into a thin line. 

"Yes?" Kasey managed. 

"There's two of them." 

Kasey let himself laugh. "Just the wrong O'Hara, hon." The tension of the moment broke when Alex let out an amused laugh that was impossible to resist. He stood, holding out his hand to squeeze hers, and properly introduced himself. 

Then, one in front of the other, Alex and Kasey hesitated. Leo thought they looked lost, and perhaps a little scared. But when Kasey pulled Alex into a tight hug, Leo could read the words you came on Kasey's trembling lips. 

–

It was a roller coaster of emotions. A whole new beginning, new people, possibilities, discoveries. And now this. 

Two sets of beautiful eyes stood out in the crowd, scanning every corner of the room until they found the source of their beaming grins. Two souls forever tied together, impossibly kind, generous. Surreal. 

They moved in sync, elegantly, sharing a swift glance that spoke volumes. And then they were there, right in front of Leo. Strong shoulders pressed together, shiny black and dark green fabrics shimmering in the low light. Surreal.

Having fun without us, Nut?

The music grew louder, people began to move to the improvised dance floor—Alex, Natalie, and Kasey; Remus and Lily; Noelle with a rather flattered Thomas Walker—and Leo felt his world stop, a sudden brake in the middle of a high-speed ride.

Leo wanted to know what analytical, practical or rational thought could explain what was happening to him.

Why did everything feel so easy with those two?

A hard-earned life made of numbers, methodical strategies, and considered decisions, cautious. And now something unknown was pushing Leo to his limits.

"So," he managed to say. "What do you guys feel like?"

Another look, another unspoken agreement. Finn lit up in ten different shades of charm, his signature smirk on his lips, and pressed one hand on Leo's back, the other on Logan's.

Leo had promised himself that he would be careful. He needed things to be under his full control this time.

But there it was, the fire, the rush of adrenaline. This new feeling of sprinting through the narrowest streets at 150 miles per hour and not being in danger.

Leo looked between them, holding his breath.

"Let's go dance," Finn said, and Leo went, full throttle, because it felt right, and he wanted to trust himself more than anything else in the world. 

[creative-kny-fics]

Hi!, I have an idea for a fic, how about a Ler Kayaga, Lee Giyuu?

I see the relationship of the pillars and the pattern as very good, so it would give me a good idea.

Kagaya is one of the sweetest souls in KNY! He is always willing to help his pillars and be his emotional support! So I definitely will!

Lee: Giyuu Tomioka

Ler: Kagaya Ubuyashiki

'Giyuu, would you like to talk about something?', Giyuu looked up, he had tried to hide that his sadness today had reached its peak.

'No, I'm okey. You don't have to worry about me. I don't deserve it' 'Nonsense, come here', Kagaya spread his arms and smiled warmly, Giyuu blushed a little but slowly approached him and hugged him.

'Now, would you like to tell me what happened?' 'It-It's n-nothing...', Giyuu tried to fight back the tears, but couldn't hold them back and hugged Kagaya tighter as he cried uncontrollably.

Kagaya just hugged him and stroked his head, reassuring him and drying his tears when it seemed like he would stop crying.

'You see it? There is nothing wrong with letting out what we have saved. You know that you will always find someone in me who will always listen and help you' 'Th-thanks... Tha-Thank you s-so mu-much...'

'You're a great kid Giyuu. You don't have to suffer or carry weights that don't belong to you. Everything will be fine, I will always trust you to do a good job and so I am happy that someone like you joined and became a hashira', Giyuu smiled softly, Kagaya's tone of voice definitely soothing and calming him down, he felt that his heart found peace and gave him tranquility

Kagaya gently brushed his fingers along Giyuu's neck, smiling when he heard and felt Giyuu try to hide hid laughter.

'I know you want to laugh Giyuu, you can do it, go ahead'

'N-no. I'm fihine'

'I hear a little laugh', come on Giyuu, laugh a little for the master.

'Gah- Mahahaster!' 'Your laugh is lovely, it's very sweet and reminds me of a little child', Giyuu covered his blushing face, it wasn't like Kagaya could see it, but it didn't take away from the embarrassment.

'A-ah! Nohohot thehehere!' 'Not there? So maybe here?' Giyuu gritted his teeth as Kagaya inched his fingers down until he reached the top of his ribs. He wanted to yell, but held back because he felt it was disrespectful.

'Gahahaha! Mahahahaster! Nohohoho! Stahahahap! I cahahahan't!', Kagaya chuckled softly and stopped, gently stroking him cheek and smiling.

'You should laugh more often, it suits you very well' 'Thank you master...' 'Anytime, my child'

[derelictlovefool]

gn!reader/deputy and eli get stuck in a bunker or cabin together and gasp there's only one bed!

seriously tho I love your writing and thank you for writing for Eli there's not enough fics with him 💚💚💚

Title: No One I Trust More

Notes: This is truly the only trope ever <3 Thank you for the kind words, this was a treat to write! I love writing for Eli, blessed golden-hearted mountain man with a tragic storyline <333

Warning(s): Canon-typical violence, bear encounter

Words: 4k

Bullets whiz through the air like miniature torpedoes, the tiny metal pellets digging into the bark of trees and the hard soil of the earth. You follow Eli through the mass of trees and foliage, your heart beat pounding in your eardrums and adrenaline coursing through your veins and making everything seem too slow and too fast all at once. Eli ducks behind a tree and you copy his movements, ducking behind the tree opposite of him. You hold your gun in your hand, taking a second to recollect yourself as Eli offers a small amount of cover fire with his arrows raining down on the peggies like hellfire.

You heard the drop of at least two bodies in the onslaught and quickly swivel on your heel, pressing your shoulder into the hard bark to steady yourself as you aimed at the incoming threats. You fire off four rounds and three bodies drop, you duck behind the tree in sync with Eli and you both look at each other with approving nods as you suck in deep breaths.

"We can't keep running all night Eli, we gotta lose 'em." You say with urgency, checking your clip and counting your bullets. You only had one spare clip left and it would not last another round of a firefight—You also noted Eli's dwindling supply of arrows. He cursed and hit his head against the tree he was behind, knowing Wheaty wouldn't be able to find you both if you kept moving. The distress call you'd made twenty minutes ago was about a few miles south of where you were now and you were nowhere near the Wolf's Den. You were a little bit screwed but oddly with Eli here you didn't feel too helpless about the situation.

You were a good team. You'd made it outta worse.

"Okay," he breathes out harshly, "there's a bunker stashed west of here if we're where I think we are. C'mon." Eli nods to the right and goes low to the ground, taking advantage of the tall grass as he crouches. You follow suit after firing two warning shots at the hidden peggies, the sound of metal hitting bark following after you.

You follow Eli through the tall grass, sneaking to one patch of foliage and another, slowly making your way down hill. You watch his back and make sure to keep close behind him, your feet are aching and you're desperate to get to this bunker, a moment of reprieve would be heaven. Eli holds a hand up and you halt instinctively, ducking further toward the ground and watching his hand like a hawk. You listen as rushing footsteps go over the hill you were just on and a shuffling goes a mere foot in front of you.

Brown fur peeks over the grass and you can't believe how unlucky you both have been today, first stumbling upon a small peggie camp and getting spotted immediately and now running into an adult brown bear.

Your hand reflexively reaches out to rest on Eli's shoulder, as a way to reassure as well as making it possible for you to pull him back if necessary. The bear pauses ahead of you, turning its large head and huffing out a deep breath as its big brown eyes survey its surroundings. Your heart hammers in your chest but you're grateful to hear the footsteps from the hill have fallen away. Eli leans back into your hand, lowering his own slowly as the bear begins to move in the direction you both had just come from. It makes a throaty noise and you feel your nerves fray at the way the ground shakes with its heavy steps. At least that would keep the peggie's busy if they felt like coming back around this way.

Your head falls forward, leaning on Eli's backpack as you exhale as quietly as possible. He exhales as well, his shoulders sinking as the bear continues on its way.

"Fuck this day man." You almost laugh but you're too tired to muster it, Eli manages a chuckle in response however.

"I second that."

You both continue on slowly, feeling your heart beat skip at every noise and too harsh a breeze. You run out of tall grass and make a run for the bunker Eli was leading you too. He stops beside some foliage and digs his hands under the piles of dead leaves, grass and twigs. A metal mechanism is muffled under the mass and he grunts as he tries to pull it upward.

"Gimme a hand here dep." He asks and you oblige, digging your hands under as well and clumsily finding his holding a large circular handle. You adjust so you're holding it and begin tugging alongside him, the grass rips away and dirt falls as you manage to bring it up. You both stiffen at the sound of running and shouts, far too close for comfort. Eli stops when the hatch is open enough for you to duck past him and get situated on the ladder. You slide down the ladder quickly and move out of the way for Eli. As he makes his way inside he pulls the circular door shut, almost falling but catching himself and making his way down the ladder at a more cautious pace.

You walk further into the bunker, it was dark and damp, the first small section full of shelves of canned food and water bottles by the dozen. The second room had a single bed and a desk pressed up against the opposite wall; a radio and map were on the desk with what looked like a conspiracy theory wall meticulously pinned up above it. Further on it looked like it dipped into another storage area and possible bathroom, a small bunker compared to some you'd seen already but it would do until the coast was clear.

Eli walks past you, on guard as he checks under the bed and then stalks towards the end room, aimed to maim at any sign of threat or unwanted company. You ease your gun into its holster and sit on the bed, needing to rest your legs and your lungs.

"Coast is clear…" Eli mutters as he walks back into the main room, stopping by the desk to fiddle with the radio. It was working, surprisingly, and he quickly put it on the Wolf's Den channel. The first thing you heard was Wheaty, his voice listing off the coordinates you and Eli had given him thirty minutes prior and affirming you both were in fact, not there. Eli would have just grabbed his good ole handheld radio to get in touch with him but he'd lost it during a struggle with a particularly unruly peggie. Seriously, shit luck today.

"I reckon we hole here a half hour before headin' back to the Den." Eli sighs, turning and crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the desk. His usually messy hair was absolutely mangled and clung to the sweat on his forehead, leaving him looking even more haggard than usual. You were sure you looked similar, if the grime on your arms and clothes had anything to say about it. You nod and swivel around, falling back onto the bed and letting out a groan as your body protests to being straightened out. It felt like heaven though, finally getting the weight of your feet and knees and just laying completely still.

You glance at Eli who averts his eyes to the roof a little too quickly, you roll your eyes and scooch over on the bed. It wasn't big but it could fit you both, it'd be snug but hey, you wouldn't complain.

"Get over here Eli." You slap the bed beside you. Eli clears his throat and looks like he's about to move but decides to stay put.

"I can just, uh, sit over here, s'fine."

"Eli, we're not twelve. Get on the bed man." You snort and Eli pauses before laughing gently. He rubs the back of his neck as he walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed gently before falling onto his back beside you. You're both shoulder to shoulder and you fall into a comfortable silence as the seconds ticked by. You notice Eli shift ever so slightly now and then but choose to be nice and not tease him about it, he always got a bit flustered when the two of you were alone and in close proximity for a long time. It was cute.

You exhale, closing your eyes and soaking in the absolute quiet of the bunker, only the subtle electrical buzz rang through the air.

You couldn't put into words how moments like these were near sacred, the calm and quiet was near extinct in your life and you savoured every second of it. Especially with Eli, despite the circumstances of your meeting you'd had plenty of serene moments with him, he gave you a chance to breathe in a place where it felt as if all the air was being stolen away. You appreciated having him in your life and every day you hoped you'd both make it to the other side of this thing; maybe if you did you'd have time to test the waters of your relationship. Maybe follow the spark that ignited everytime you two looked at each other for a tad too long or your hands lingered a few seconds longer than they should.

"I'm sorry about this dep."

Eli's voice is quiet and you turn your head to look at him, brows furrowing as he stares long and hard at the ceiling.

"What're you talkin' about?" You mumble, perplexed by the sudden apology.

"For getting you into this mess, feels like I keep dragging you into shit when you're already doin' all you can for the County and I just– I'm sorry." Eli cleared his throat and shook his head, flexing his hands over his stomach as he breathed through his nose. You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head and pushing yourself up onto your elbow.

"Eli Palmer, you have not once dragged me into something I haven't been ready for. Neither of us signed up for this shit but we're doin' what we can and I prefer doin' it with you than on my own. I'll follow you to hell and back until I take a bullet between the eyes or the Seeds put me down, you got that?" You say sternly, not letting Eli drop his gaze.

"I won't let them put you down dep." Eli responds just as quickly and earnestly.

"Yeah well, you watch my ass and I'll watch yours. No one else I trust more honestly." You smile, patting his chest before shifting back down, now laying on your side with your hands tucked against your chest; hovering just an inch away from Eli's bicep.

"Really?" He seems surprised by your wording, you'd done everything in your power to keep yourself guarded, even from the rest of the resistance. Trust wasn't something you gave easily, Eli had figured that out pretty early on. He would like to say he was the same but he still found himself a tad trusting when faced with someone he thought had a good heart. He had some hope in humanity left in him that you struggled to have on a good day—of which there weren't many nowadays.

"Eli, you are the only reason I've made it this far. You've saved my ass plenty so, yeah, really." You affirm.

Eli's mouth falls open, as if to say something more but he closes it as his gaze flutters down your face. He nods, swallowing hard and turning his gaze back to the ceiling. Time ticks by with the two of you laying in the peaceful silence, your bodies melting into the bed and your weary muscles relaxing after hours of being tense and straining. You can't remember the last time you took a nap, you'd snuck in small sleeps where you could but you wouldn't consider them a nap. Right now you could almost say you felt safe, enough to close your eyes and drift off for just a bit.

And you did, all but cuddled up to Eli's side.

Eli felt frozen, his body stiff as he counted down the seconds. Your head was resting on his shoulder, one of your hands lazily tossed over his forearm and foot tucked under his ankle. He wouldn't dare move a muscle, he didn't want to even think about waking you, you of all people deserve a rest and the idea that he could guard you while you took it had a warmth spreading through his chest.

It was obvious to everyone that Eli was sweet on you, ever since he and Wheaty found you and brought you back to the Wolf's Den. There was something about the way you carried yourself, the way you looked at him—talked to him. It didn't take long for him to be constantly checking up on you and worrying about you non-stop. It had even gotten to the point Tammy had snapped at him about acting like a lovesick schoolboy while there were people out getting killed.

It was a solemn reminder whatever was going on between you two was not something he could really focus on—as much as he wanted to anyway. He'd love to finally have a damn shower, show you he cleans up nice and take you to whatever restaurant or fast food joint you want to go to. He wanted this madness to be over so he could enjoy more moments like this, you curled up by his side sleeping soundly. He wanted you to be safe. He wanted you both to be safe, together if you wanted that too.

Today had just driven that into his head more, every bullet that grazed your skin, every knife narrowly dodged was another moment Eli felt sick to his stomach—he couldn't even fathom what he'd do if you got seriously hurt. Like, down for the count, probably not gettin' back up, type of deal. It wasn't an option he could fathom, you were the deputy, nothin' had stopped you yet. He dares to tilt his head, just to be able to look at you. Admire the way your eyelashes fan over your skin, the way your mouth was squished by your cheek thanks to the contact with his shoulder. You looked so human and so damn breathtaking.

Another bold move—he reaches up to trace his fingers along your forehead, lightly across your cheek. Aside from the grime and dried blood, your skin was soft and Eli allowed a stray thought of what you'd look like cleaned up for a date. You'd probably look too damn-good and he'd trip over himself like an idiot, he wouldn't be surprised. You'd had a way of making him act like a kid around their first crush, a side of himself he hadn't seen in a long time.

He wondered if it was bad luck that timing had made you both meet in the middle of a cult takeover or a weird twist of fate that'd have a happy ending. With the Seeds behind bars, Hope County freed and you two welcome to do whatever the hell you damn well pleased. Eli smiled, he wanted to be there the moment you let all of this weight off your shoulders—to finally see what you looked like when you weren't being Hope County's personal Atlas. Probably something just like this, soft and serene. He didn't know how he'd end up by the end of all of this but if he had you around he wasn't too scared, whatever pieces of him were left on the ground he could tape back together again—with you standing by him, he could do just about anything.

The radio spurts to life a few more times while you're asleep, snippets of Wheaty's worried voice and Tammy's harsher scolding telling you two to get your asses back to the Den if you're not dead. It's only after the half hour is well and truly gone by that Eli shakes your shoulder gently, freezing as you grumble in your sleep and shuffle closer. Your arm skirts over his belly before clutching onto his waist, your head smoothly gliding down to his chest; right over his racing heart.

"You awake dep?" He asks, unsure of the answer and if he would prefer if you were still asleep or not. If you were asleep and cuddling up to him he could say it was nothing but if you were awake… How was he supposed to ignore it? While friends could absolutely cuddle and share a bed, the circumstances had you both dangling over the edge of 'more-than-friendly'—to the point where you cuddling up to him like this could be what gets him to admit a thing or two. To himself and to you.

But after a beat of silence he notes, with disappointment, that you were, in fact, still asleep.

Maybe it was for the best.

"We gotta get goin'," He shakes your shoulder more firmly, needing an out now that he realises how fast he was ready to throw aside focusing on the matters at hand at just the mere thought of you doing something with a smidge of a hint that you reciprocate his feelings. You groan in protest and burrow further into his side, and Eli can't help but laugh, he had never seen you woken up before and he had not expected you to be like this. He wasn't a fan of getting up after a good nap either, but you were both needed elsewhere and any more time here was the possibility of more lives lost.

"C'mon dep." He cooes, and you finally stir back to consciousness, looking up at him blurring with a squinted gaze and unhappy frown. He sees your eyes refocus, sees you realise what you're doing, and is almost gleeful when you drop your head back to his chest with a grunt.

"Five more minutes, you're comfy."

He throws his head back with another laugh, if only to cover the rapid acceleration of his heartbeat within his ribs. He wondered if you could hear it—feel it.

"Thanks for letting me catch a few winks, haven't slept next to someone in… I don't even know how long." You murmur quietly, and Eli nods, unconsciously lifting a hand to hold your shoulder as he stares at the ceiling. He could soak up just a few more minutes, a few more minutes in an embrace with you that was too good to be real. That thought makes him want to roll his eyes at himself, he was losing it over cuddling. Damn, what did you do to him? And did you know you were doing it?

"You didn't get any sleep, did'ja?" You turn, resting your chin on his peck as you look up at him, and Eli feels himself fall short of breath. Your eyes are half lidded from drowsiness, mouth set in an inquisitive pout, and it's just all too much for him. He sits up, taking you with him—and maybe that was a worse idea since your horse ends up strewn over his lap. You grumble as you push yourself up, hands on his thighs and sending all sorts of shockwaves through him.

"I—Uh—Nah. Someone had to keep watch, just in case…"

"Well, thanks for looking after me then, I'll spot your next nep to make it even." You offer a tiny grin, and the magnetism of it is all too much for Eli. You're too close, the proximity making your usual charm hit him full force and drag him under its waves with no mercy. He's leaning into you despite himself, one hand resting over yours as you watch with an unreadable glint in your eye.

This was ridiculous.

"Awe to hell with it, dep, I gotta tell you," he sucked in a deep breath, ducking his head down and squeezing his eyes shut, "I know we ain't really got time for this type of thing and it's fuckin' stupid of me—"

"I like you too, Eli."

Your voice cuts off his soon to be long-winded ramble and he flings his head up so fast that he gets an ache in his neck. You smile softly back at him, and his mouth opens and closes a few times as he takes you in—you were being serious. One hundred percent genuine. He almost couldn't believe it, despite the flirting here and there he never could have guessed, or maybe he just didn't want to get his hopes up.

"Huh? Wh–You do?"

"I was waiting for you to say something, I didn't wanna make shit more complicated for you if you weren't up for it." You shrug, as if it's the most casual thing in the world and he can't help but reach out to grab hold of your shoulders. He didn't want you to slip away, for him to blink and have this just be a dream. You felt the same way, and you had for a while. God how long? How long had he been missing out on whatever it is you two could have had already?

"I think given the circumstances you are the least complicated thing I got in my life right now." He grins and you snort.

"I'll take that as a compliment but watch yourself." You waggle a finger at him with your own grin and if he were standing he would have gone weak at the knees. Everything you did was mesmerising and he was down for the count here. You had him wrapped right around your pinky finger and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"So.. Shit what now?" He laughs and you join in, shaking your head at how ridiculous this is.

"I don't know, I've been wanting to kiss you for six months, how about we start there?" You suggest, one hand resting over his heart as your eyes flicker to his lips. All the air escaped him at your words and he felt starstruck at just the idea of kissing you. He nods, owlishly glancing from your eyes to your mouth as his mind goes blank. He can't remember the last time he kissed somebody and he had a feeling he wouldn't remember at all after kissing you. And he was right.

You make the first move, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, he's stiff at first—in fear of fucking up. But then he relaxes and his lips move against yours smoothly, sharing a kiss that's been building up like a wildfire. And it ignites like one too, soft and curious pecks turning into passionate, long kisses with maybe a bit too much tongue on his part; he was drunk on just the taste of you and you didn't seem to mind one bit. This was more than he thought he'd ever get to share with you, lips and teeth and tongues—a small frenzy full of the feelings you'd both kept hidden for months. It was more than enough, all he needed to get back into the fight and make sure you both got outta this damn thing alive.

"I'm gonna take you on a date," He breathes once you both back off for air; foreheads pressed together and hot breath mingling between you both. You laugh and grab his jaw, fingers running through his hair and pulling him in for another burst of short kisses.

"Where you gonna take me?" You ask, a smile brighter than any you'd graced him with before shining in the small bunker like the sun. Blinding and warm.

"Anywhere you wanna go, anything you wanna do. We'll have dinner, watch a movie, cuddle up on a couch. You smiled as he rattled on breathlessly, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of finally being able to be totally honest with you.

The radio crackles. You both look at each other, clinging to the other's body and not wanting the happy moment to end. You sigh first, letting your head to his shoulder and hand fall to his neck.

"After this is all over, I think I'd really like that Eli." His name dances off your tongue and it just melts Eli even more. He kisses your hair and wraps his arms around you, you'd head out in a minute and face the wrath and worry of your friends when you got back to the Wolf's Den but for right now—right now you soaked in the happy ideas for the future. Your future.

[oscurascout]

Y/N As A Doublegänger

From "That's Not My Neighbor" game

Note - I have noticed that through the parts I have written "doublegänger" and "doppelgänger" and honestly I don't know why, so I'll just continue doing it, it doesn't really matter. Also this part, I felt like it was a bit emotional, or idk how to describe it but yeah.

Part 7 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11)

I looked around, confused as to why everyone was staring at me with expressions of surprise or confusion.

Nacha - *worry* “Umm, dear, how do you eat the dinners?”

“Oh! I just take them out of the fridge and start eating them!” I replied with a smile. Suddenly, Angus burst into laughter.

Angus - *laughing* “Ha ha ha! Oh, my friend, what a joke!”

Mia - “Oh, it was a joke! No wonder! It was kind of funny, especially with how happy you said it.”

I was about to correct them and explain that it wasn't a joke, but Steven grabbed everyone's attention.

Steven - “Roman, your cake will burn, let’s move on to the final step; it’s getting late,”

Nacha - “That’s right! Now the next step is—”

Nacha continued explaining and helping everyone until we were finally done. As I prepared my pasta, I overheard Angus and Steven whispering to each other. I was going to ignore it, but the moment I heard my name I payed attention.

Steven - *whispering* “We have to tell the doorman about today; that was a close call.”

Angus - *whispering* “Nah, it’s fine.”

Steven - *whispering* “It’s not! If they’re not careful, then, someone will find out, call the D.D.D. and nothing good will come out of that”

“THEY KNOW???!!!” I thought, anxiety creeping in.

Roman - *decorating the cake, looked at Y/N* “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I-I just need to go!” I said quickly and a bit too loud, and everyone looked at me, puzzled.

Angus - *worry* “Hey, bud, you okay—” *interrupted*

“Yeah! I just need to leave,” I said as I hurried to the door, leaving everything behind. “Sorry, everyone!” I called as I opened the door and stepped outside.

I quickly ran to my apartment and locked myself in. I started pacing around, my mind racing. Turning around, I caught my reflection in the window. My horns were out, and my eyes had turned dark.

“Oh no, no, no! Please tell me I just got like this,” I said, trying to calm myself down. I rushed to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face.

My eyes returned to normal, but my horns remained. I was about to do some exercises that Hoon had recommended when I was interrupted by a knock at the door.

I gulped, remaining silent and hoping that the person outside would leave. Unfortunately, they didn’t; they continued knocking.

I walked to the door but didn't open it. I knew my horns were still visible, which gave me even more reason to stay silent.

Doorman - *serious tone* “Y/N, I know you're in there. Open up.”

His voice send a shiver down my spine, making me tremble a little, my imagination racing with worst-case scenarios. “No, no… NO!!!” I thought as I moved closer to the window, ready to jump.

Doorman - *with a calmed tone now* “Y/N, please, Y/- no, I, *sighs* I may not know your name, but I came here to help you, not to turn you over to the D.D.D.”

Those words stopped me in my tracks. “Should I trust them?” I thought repeatedly. Yet, my body moved on its own, and I found myself walking to the door. Slowly, I opened it.

Behind the door stood the doorman, who greeted me with a reassuring smile. I let him pass, still anxious about what might happen next.

The doorman glanced around before taking a seat. I nervously sat across from him, studying his calm expression.

Doorman - *smiles* “Why are you so nervous?”

I remained silent, wanting to explain that I meant no harm, but who would believe a doppelgänger? I kept my gaze fixed on the floor.

The doorman stood up and approached me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst, but suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me.

Doorman - “You don’t have to worry about anything, I won’t turn you in to the D.D.D.”

“W-why?” I asked, confused, as tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

Doorman - “Well, because you are you. I like your personality, and you haven’t harmed any of the residents, you are nice a but weird but nothing bad, so why should a nice doppelgänger like you go to that awful place”

My tears began to flow, I let them fall freely. I cried, releasing all my pent-up feelings—anxieties and worries—while the doorman continued to comfort me.

After some time, I was finally able to relax. The doorman sat beside me, gently rubbing my back. “How did you know?” I asked, feeling confused.

Doorman - “I found out the first time I let you in. I just kind of knew. You, appeared different. Usually, Y/N had an aura of tiredness, but you had a calm one. The next day, when I came to work and didn’t receive any reports of a doppelgänger attacking or killing anyone, I knew I had made the right choice in letting you in.”

“If you knew, then why? Why did you let me in? Why didn’t you report me?” I pressed, even more bewildered.

“I know it sounds wrong, at least morally wrong, but I, *sighs* I was just so tired, always repeating the same routine, always having to smile, always listening to the pleas of the creatures. I wanted something new. In that moment, I didn’t care; I just wanted to be free, to do something other than protect the building, to see what would happen. And you gave me that experience. Thanks to you, I was able to realize a lot of things.”

I was taken aback by the weight he had been carrying, I could never imagine having a lot of lives in my hands and how much that meant. More tears welled up in my eyes, and I hugged him tightly.

Doorman - “You’re such a crybaby, *hugging* Oh, and I also knew because little horns were sticking out of your head.”

“What?!” I exclaimed through my tears.

Doorman - “Yes! Every time you get emotional, like right now, those little horns appear, *chuckles* I can tell you don’t know how to control them, or maybe you just suck at being a doppelgänger.”

“Hey!” I protested, feeling offended, while he laughed wholeheartedly. His laughter made me smile.

[understand-that-i-love-you-not]

[Context, after learning about the decay of angels' plan to annihilate in 10 days, Ango comes home to his wife's presence.]

Warnings: slight angst due to Ango overthinking, but very fluffy, very descriptive kiss part, author's first time writing.

Ango came home from work, very late as usual. His mind playing events of the DOA'S annihilation, trying to come up with ways to think 10 steps ahead.

10 days...10 days and the continent of Japan will no longer roam of human lives...10 days left for people to be alive 10 days left...and people dont even know what's coming for them

10 days and....

Ango halted the car he was driving as he realized he drove past your shared home.

Ango sighed taking his shoes off and let out a sharp exhale, he didn't even know how shallow his breathing was, until he recalled what Mushitaro said at Anne's playroom...again...

"Welcome home! i've prepared a bath for you, do you want dinner?"

Ango's thoughts dissipated, it was his wife...

"..."

"...are you good? You look like you just saw a ghost"

"..."

"Ango- eh? Uhm..."

Without a second thought he rushed to wrap his arms around his wife's frame, with his head leaning on top of her's, his arms locking to her torso. His wife attempted to sneek her arms out to reciprocate, sharing their warmth.

After what seems to be 5 mins, Ango lets loose, and cups his wife's face to his warm hands.

"Ango...what is this?" His wife was confused, yet she was greatful

"What is what?"

"All this?" "I don't get what you mean my love"

"Oh uhm...its just that usually when you get home, you finish you reports and go to bed from there"

It just now occured to Ango, after 3 years of marriage with his wife, he never got to cherish his love for his wife much, he was too busy saving the world.

"Ah, I undestand how busy you are, so don't fret about it ok?" His wife reassured, bringing up her hands to touch Ango's that are supporting her face for him to cherish.

This was the women he trusted most, the woman that loved him, accepted his flaws, stayed with him despite his dangerous occupation, and was always there to tend to him after his hectic work and sleep less nights of working.

...and this woman was gonna be taken away from him in 10 days...

"...i love you, do you know that..." Ango asked

"Of course I do Ango, I love you more did you know that?" His wife followed now rubbing circles on his hand using her thumbs.

"What would you do if you had 10 days of living left?"

"What!?"

"Sorry...nevermind that..."

"..."

"..."

"Well...I would say goodbye to my family and friends, then..." She came closer putting Ango 's hands off her face. She then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling their bodies closer.

"I would spend the remaining days with you..."

Ango flushed red, you can almost compare him to the tomato juice he drinks back with Dazai and Oda.

But despite his bothered apperance he coudnt help but feel rather...sad

"But my love...what if in those days im working? I cant tend to you..."

"Oh its ok im not asking you to take 10 days off, I simply want to wait for you home and cook for you and ready a bath for you, then you're gonna do your reports while I wait for you to join me in bed, thats all, like usual, I'd spend 10 days left with just that, and you." His wife answered.

Ango felt something in his heart, as if something heavy was exhaled out of his lungs. He was grateful of his wife, being content with his mere presence.

"This is very... new of you today" The wife added

"Right... I'm sorry"

"You must be very tired asking questions like that"

"You're right"Ango then locked his eyed to his wife's lips and gave very gentle and sweet peck , he missed doing that to you.

"One more" His wife demanded, and so Ango complied

"One more pleaaase" Ango complied again

"One more pleeease" and again

"One more one more" and again...

"One mo-" Before his wife could ask he kissed her again, this time more passionately, and longer.

He moved his hands to her waist, then arms slid from his chest then clinging to the back of his neck

It was getting more passionate while Ango slightly tilted his head to feel her lips on his more, slightly and just gently adding his tongue

to the kiss.

"Mmm- wait I might burn the pastry I'm baking, ill come to it before it burns our house down haha" His wife pulled away to prevent her baking getting burnt.

Ango sat down on the sofa to loosen his tie. He must admit he missed the most intimate moments him and his wife go through, instead of recalling his dilemma from work, he takes a moment to recall their lovely memories together.

Although it was 10 days left, he suddenly had more hope and motivation to save this home of his, which is his wife from the doa's twisted plans.

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

Its actually my first time writing hehe oops, just a scenario I wanted to share so it was very sudden

[peachyrayne]

Safe (Phayu/Rain Fanfic)

Title: Safe

Summary: "Rain," Phayu demands, switching to that tone he uses when they scene, the hard, demanding one that makes Rain ache inside, and Rain shudders, the tears forcing themselves past Rain's eyes. "Talk to me, baby. Be a good boy and tell Daddy what's wrong,” he says sternly.

Rain whimpers. It’s that tone, the good boy, the reassurance that Phayu wants Rain to tell him that breaks Rain’s resolve. How can he not, when Phayu talks to him like this? How can he not, when Phayu is being Daddy right now. The comfort overwhelms the desire to stay quiet, and Rain gives in.

"Red," he gasps, a sob wrenching past his throat. His body feels like it's on fire as he squirms under Phayu, finally giving in to the need to get away.

Tags: Safe Word Use; non-sexual safeword use; not a scene but technically a scene; its okay to safeword anytime; Hurt/Comfort; Sensory Deprivation; Sensory Overload; rain is not okay but phayu knows how to take care of him; Trust; trust building

(Ao3 Link)

Notes: I've had this fic idea in my head for a while. I could just imagine Phayu would be very good at after care and knowing what to do when his sub safe words, so I wrote it <3

I cannot express all of my love and gratitude to everyone who helped me with this. Thank you to the discord for all of their support, to Khashana for beta'ing the original draft and helping to kick start my brain into solving the ending problem, and of course to imnotinclinedtomaturity for helping beta the final draft, and honestly kicking my ass. You always make me so much better.

--

It's been a bad day.

Rain's brain has been on overdrive since he went to bed last night. He hadn't slept well, waking up more times than he could count and never really managing to fall into deep sleep. His thoughts had been chaotic even in his dreams, and he'd woken up feeling like he hadn't slept at all.

He hadn't been able to focus in class all day either, instead tapping his pen against his desk erratically every few minutes until he caught himself and made himself stop, only to start up again moments later. Sky kept sending him irritated looks, but his touch was sympathetic the few times he reached out in an attempt to ground Rain.

By mid-afternoon, Rain's brain was a mix of muddled exhaustion and wired energy, making him even more restless. He could hear everything, and it grated against his nerves. His skin felt tight, unreal and unmanageable, until Rain wanted to rip it off of himself. He knows that by the time he gets home, he won’t have it in him to work on any of his assignments, but that he also won’t be able to rest with the weight of due dates hanging over his head.

He's nearly in tears by the time he climbs into his car at the end of the day, and can't remember the drive to Phayu's house, but the next thing he's aware of, he’s face down on their bed with Phayu sitting down next to him, a soothing hand rubbing circles into the small of his back.

"What's wrong, good boy?" Phayu murmurs softly, voice low.

Normally, Phayu's voice works as a soothing balm to Rain's frantic mind, but today the quiet timber just adds to the overwhelming noise in his head.

Rain whines in response, unable to manage words.

Humming, Phayu shifts on the bed, swinging a leg over Rain's back until he's straddling him, and gets to work massaging Rain's shoulders without a word. Rain wants so badly to melt into the touch, but he can't, and he doesn't know how to tell Phayu that his touch — any touch — hurts today. So instead, he keeps his mouth shut.

Phayu is doing him a favor, after all, something sweet that he doesn't often do outside of a scene, and even then, usually only after he's worked Rain hard. Rain should be appreciating the effort, whether it's helping or not, rather than complaining and asking Phayu to stop.

"You're so tense," Phayu murmurs, his voice still low, and digs the palms of his hands into Rain's shoulders harder, in a way that on a different day would probably melt the tension right out of Rain’s muscles. Rain lets out a groan, but it isn't from pleasure, and he's glad that he's laying face down when he grimaces into the pillow.

"My darling must have had a hard day," Phayu continues, leaning in close and whispering the words into Rain's ear. Rain shivers, and tenses even more, even as he tries to will his body to go pliant. "Let Phi take care of you now," he says, and presses a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Rain's ear. The spot normally sends sparks down his spine, but today it does nothing but make Rain feel on fire, and not in a good way.

Phayu's hands shift lower, still pressing hard into sore muscle, until he reaches the hem of Rain's shirt and pushes it up. His hands are cold to the touch on Rain's bare skin, clammy and not at all relaxing. Rain grits his teeth, willing himself to breathe through the sensation.

"Phi…" he mumbles, biting his lip the moment the word passes his lips. He can feel his safe word pressing against the back of his teeth, aching to get out, but he doesn't want to say it. He's never said it before, and besides, they aren't even sceneing. Safe words have no business in everyday life, after all. Rain doesn't know a lot about BDSM yet, but he knows that much at least.

He should ask Phayu to stop. He knows he should, but he doesn't want to disappoint him, especially not when Phayu is being sweet on him. Besides, it’s not that Rain doesn’t want Phayu’s sweetness, it just hurts right now, when Rain can’t so much as handle the lightest of touches. So Rain lays under Phayu and tries to take it.

The massage continues for a few moments more before Phayu shifts up and reaches for the bedside drawer where they keep some of their toys. Rain flinches at the sound of the drawer opening, something that Phayu doesn't miss.

"Rain?" Phayu asks, obviously concerned, but Rain just shakes his head and slowly unclenches his muscles. Phayu places his palm softly against Rain's side and waits a long moment. "Rain," he repeats again, more firmly this time. "Use your words. What's wrong?" he asks, his tone one of admonishment and command.

Rain whimpers. "Nothing," he croaks out, willing himself to sound calm, but even he can hear that his voice is shaking. He feels tears pricking at the back of his eyes, feels a lump forming in his throat, and holds his breath.

"Rain," Phayu demands, switching to that tone he uses when they scene, the hard, demanding one that makes Rain ache inside, and Rain shudders, the tears forcing themselves past Rain's eyes. "Talk to me, baby. Be a good boy and tell Daddy what's wrong,” he says sternly.

Rain whimpers. It’s that tone, the good boy, the reassurance that Phayu wants Rain to tell him that breaks Rain’s resolve. How can he not, when Phayu talks to him like this? How can he not, when Phayu is being Daddy right now. The comfort overwhelms the desire to stay quiet, and Rain gives in.

"Red," he gasps, a sob wrenching past his throat. His body feels like it's on fire as he squirms under Phayu, finally giving in to the need to get away.

Instantly, Phayu swings himself off of Rain, and climbs off of the bed. Rain feels blessed relief as Phayu's weight disappears, which only makes him cry harder because he's never wanted to be away from Phayu before. Phayu grounds him in his worst moments, but not today. Today, Rain feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin if anyone touches him again.

Rain curls into himself the moment he's free, rolling onto his side and tucking his knees up into his chest until he’s as small as he can make himself. He wants to disappear as the sobs choke his throat, wants to erase this entire day, wants to go back in time and stop himself from spitting out “red”. he doesn’t want to disappoint Phayu. He wants to want Phayu on top of him, but he can’t. He just can’t, and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

Rain expects Phayu to admonish him, maybe tell him off for using his safeword outside of a scene, but that’s not what happens. Instead, Phayu says “Good boy, using your words for me.” He sounds strong and sure of himself, in control the way that Rain is not right now, and for the first time all day, Rain starts to feel soothed.

He whines at the praise, a mix of happy and confused, but his tears flow faster and he hiccups out a breath rather than respond. The inability to speak sparks more anxiety inside of Rain, and he squirms on the bed, terrified that Phayu will get mad at him after all.

He doesn’t.

“Can you be a little more specific for me, darling? Can you tell me what’s hurting the most?” Phayu asks instead, calm and most importantly — not touching Rain. Somehow, Phayu seems to instinctively know that touching Rain was the trigger, the way that Phayu always seems to know what's going on inside of Rain’s head, even before Rain knows it himself.

But when Rain tries to open his mouth to tell Phayu what hurts… he can’t.

He shakes his head.

“Okay,” Phayu acknowledges, and it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. He doesn’t press for more either, which Rain is grateful for, and for a long moment, Phayu doesn’t say anything else. Rain’s breathing is loud in his own ears, quiet sobs still escaping his lips as he tries to get himself back under control, but it feels impossible. Rain’s entire body is lit up in all the wrong ways, and despite Phayu’s calmness, there’s still fear sitting in the pit of Rain’s stomach that he’s done something wrong.

Gentle pressure on his knee startles Rain enough that he gasps, and he flings himself away from the touch as if he’d been burned. Over the sound of his own breathing, Rain manages to make out Phayu shushing him softly. “I know baby. You’re overwhelmed right now, aren’t you,” he says, and it isn’t a question. “I’m going to have to touch you a little bit to help you though, so I need you to trust me, okay, baby?” he says, and this time it is a question.

Shuddering at the thought of being touched, Rain almost shakes his head no, but then Phayu’s words catch up with him — trust and help and baby?. Rain feels relief swarm through him at the sheer knowledge of being known. Of being understood, even without words. And he does trust Phayu, more than he trusts anyone else in the world, even himself, so he nods his head instead.

Phayu hums. “Good boy,” he says sweetly. “I know that was hard, and I am so, so proud of you. I’m going to roll you over onto your back now, and then we’re going to settle down and I’m going to make you feel better.” The total confidence in Phayu’s voice works like a balm, and he finally starts to settle. He feels his body relaxing automatically, so attuned to Phayu and that specific tone of his that he just can’t resist.

Phayu makes a sound of satisfaction at the way Rain’s body has surrendered, and touches Rain’s knee again, this time more firmly and with purpose. Phayu grips Rain’s knee, and leads his body into a prone position on Rain’s back with the least amount of touch possible, and Rain is so incredibly grateful for it. His body follows Phayu’s direction without hesitation, and Rain feels his breathing start to slow down, just from that simple action.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and have been since he started crying, so it comes as a surprise when something heavy settles over Rain’s body. He inhales sharply on an aborted hiccup, and opens his eyes. Phayu is hovering over him, tucking a blanket in around Rain’s body with a look of absolute concentration on his face, and Rain realizes belatedly that it’s their weighted blanket. Instantly, he feels safer, his body relaxing further into the bed as the weight and warmth of the blanket seeps into his bones. While every other touch today has felt like nails against his skin, this feels like safety, and Rain feels soothed.

“Phi…” he mumbles, his voice coming out all stuffed up as he lets his eyes drift back shut. He wants to cry with how good this feels, and it’s easy to do when he hasn’t stopped crying from earlier, so he just lets himself go. The sobs are thankfully quieter now; less filled with fear, moreso of relief. It feels good to let go of the tension he’s been holding all day.

Rain doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of the weighted blanket, but that’s what he has Phayu for, and he’s so eternally grateful as the blanket seems to settle right into his bones.

“Lift your head,” Phayu commands after another moment, and Rain does so without hesitation. Something soft settles against Rain’s eyes, the familiar presence of a blindfold, and Phayu ties it firmly against the back of Rain’s head. Rain lets his head drop uselessly the moment Phayu is done, and realizes that the white noise in the back of his head has started to recede. He lets out a shuddery breath, his eyes relaxing, and calms.

“There we go,” Phayu murmurs in satisfaction. That tone of voice is usually followed by the gentle sweep of Phayu’s hand against Rain’s cheek, or along his bottom lip, but Phayu doesn’t touch him this time, and Rain is so, so grateful.

“Last thing,” Phayu says after a moment, his voice low, so so low, and then the soft clasp of noise-canceling headphones presses against Rain’s ear.

The world goes silent, and Rain lets out a long, shuddery sigh. His body goes lax as his mind goes quiet, and he just drifts. For a long, long time, Rain just drifts. He can feel that he’s crying, tears leaking down his face from relief, but eventually that stops as well, and Rain is left with nothing but the peace of being calmed.

Rain should have known Phayu would know exactly what to do to help settle him. They’ve done similar things before with the headphones, something Phayu experimented with the first time Rain got overwhelmed with him – albeit in a different way. The blindfold usually works to amplify Rain’s feelings, but somehow Phayu knew that tonight it was going to help to reduce the sensations running rampant through Rain’s body. And the weighted blanket was so, so perfect.

Rain feels so good laying there, senses completely cut off, that he doesn’t want to leave the safety of this wonderful bubble. Rain doesn’t know how long he sits in total silence — the room dark around his eyes, and his body weighed down — before he finally starts to feel more like himself, but when he does, he finds it in himself to stretch lazily under the blanket.

He’s tucked in securely enough that Rain knows it will be difficult to unwind himself in the state he’s in, so he whines softly instead. He knows, deep in his bones, that Phayu is nearby. He wouldn’t leave Rain in a state like this on his own.

His trust is proven correct when a firm touch lands on his knee, and squeezes in what is obviously a question.

“Green,” Rain whispers on instinct, turning his head in the direction he thinks Phayu is and smiling lazily. He can’t hear it, but he imagines Phayu is chuckling indulgently at him, and it makes Rain squirm happily.

There’s another squeeze on his knee, and then the weight of the blanket starts to shift off of Rain’s body. He misses it in a distant part of his brain, but he’s also pleased to be able to move freely again when the blanket fully peels away from him, so he rolls over in search of the warmth of Phayu’s body. He misses Phayu’s touch, now that he’s calm, and he craves it deep within his soul.

Phayu’s hands find Rain’s shoulder, and he helps to urge Rain into more of a sitting position, re-shuffling them until he can press himself to Rain’s body, like he knows exactly what Rian had been looking for. Rain is confident that he did.

The blindfold comes off next, slowly but surely, until Rain is blinking into the dim lighting of the bedroom. It takes a long moment for his eyes to adjust to being able to see again, but when they do, the first thing Rain sees is Phayu leaning over him, eyes dark and warm, lips curved in a pleased smile.

Warmth courses through Rain’s body. He can’t quite grasp why he was worried earlier, but a hidden nugget of anxiety has been soothed by the look on Phayu’s face. He chooses not to fixate on it, instead reaching up to curl his fingers into Phayu’s shirt, just to anchor himself. Phayu’s mouth opens with an unheard laugh.

Phayu’s hands find the headphones next, but he doesn’t remove them immediately the way he had the blindfold. Instead, he taps on them lightly, another question. Rain nods, ready to be back in the real world, ready to curl up with his Phayu, and drift that way instead.

He wants to be touched, so unlike earlier, wants the reassurances that Phayu is with him and that – that –

Oh god. Rain safeworded earlier. He’d safeworded.

Anxiety slams full force into him, and he feels his eyes go wide as Phayu removes the headphones. Rain can feel his heart starting to beat faster, and some of that sense of calmness beginning to leave him at the idea of Phayu being mad, of being disappointed. He squeezes his fingers a little together in Phayu’s shirt, and stares up at him cautiously, the noise of the normal world just beginning to filter back into his head.

But Phayu just looks calm, not upset, or disappointed, as he stares back at Rain. Rain feels himself settle a little bit at that.

Phayu isn’t one to hide how he’s feeling. Phayu is always upfront with Rain. Phayu will tell him if something is wrong, he knows it.

“Hey, my good boy,” Phayu murmurs, leaning in close to nuzzle at Rain’s nose. Rain preens under the praise, and lets out a soft sigh. Yes, he’s still a good boy. Phayu’s good boy. He always wants to be Phayu’s good boy.

“I’m so proud of you today, darling. You did so well,” Phayu murmurs, breath hot against Rain’s face. Rain wiggles in pleasure, pleased that he did good. Yes, he’d safeworded today, outside of a scene no less, but Phayu doesn’t seem mad at him. Rain feels like the luckiest boy in the world.

It feels good to have Phayu near again, feels good to not want to rip his skin from his body. It feels good to know that Phayu isn’t going to yell at him, that Rain didn’t completely fuck up. It feels so good that Rain pulls on Phayu’s shirt, welcoming it when Phayu seems to pick up on what Rain is looking for and drapes his entire body over Rain’s. The sensation is similar to the blanket, but so much better now because it’s Phayu.

Phayu wraps his arms around Rain, and shifts them around until they’re settled more comfortably, with Rain still pressed underneath Phayu’s body but their limbs more settled against each other. The movement forces Rain to let go of Phayu’s shirt, but it’s okay now because Phayu is surrounding him completely, his scent in Rain’s nose, and his touch grounding.

“Better?” Phayu asks him, indulgent. Rain nods against his shoulder. He feels safe and secure in Phayu’s arms. “Good,” Phayu murmurs close to Rain’s ear, and leaves a kiss there. It lights Rain up on the inside, and he snuggles in closer to Phayu, wishing he’d do it again.

Phayu doesn’t kiss him again, but he does rub a soothing hand up and down Rain’s arm, and he does breathe quietly into the crook of Rain’s neck, a reassuring presence that reminds him Phayu isn’t going anywhere.

They sit in silence for a long time. Rain doesn’t need the silence anymore, but he’s basking in Phayu’s affection and doesn’t feel like he needs to say anything. His mouth feels a little bit cottony still from earlier anyway, so words wouldn’t come easily even if he tried.

Eventually, however, Phayu shifts slightly, moving so that he can look more clearly at Rain’s face, and Rain tenses at his expression. He looks serious now, somber almost, and Rain feels terror crash into him.

Is this it? Is this the moment that Phayu tells Rain that he screwed up, that he used his safe word wrong? Or that Phayu really is disappointed in him, and doesn’t understand why Rain would safeword at all?

“Shh, sweet boy,” Phayu murmurs, immediately recognizing the way Rain has tensed up, and reaching out to stroke Rain’s cheek. “You’re okay,” he says firmly. “But I’d like to talk about today.” Rain knows without Phayu even having to say it that it’s important they do, knows that if they don’t talk about it now, Rain won’t be able to think of anything else until they do, so Rain sags against Phayu’s body and nods his head, willing himself not to start crying again.

Phayu sits up, pulling Rain along with him before settling Rain into his lap so that they’re facing each other. Ran can’t quite manage to make himself look Phayu in the eye, though, so he stares at his hands instead, where he clasped them on Phayu’s shoulder when he moved them.

Phayu makes a noise of displeasure. “Look at me, baby boy,” he murmurs, but his voice carries command, so Rain does. Phayu’s eyes are soft as he asks “Are you afraid?”

Slowly, Rain nods his head.

“What are you afraid of?” Phayu asks patiently, but there’s something in his eyes that tells Rain he already knows. Rain wants to call him out on playing games, wants to pout and whine and beg Phayu not to make him say, but he knows from experience that that won’t work, so instead he swallows thickly and tries to make his voice work.

“I safeworded,” Rain eventually whispers.

Phayu nods. “You did,” he agrees patiently.

Rain swallows again. He should have known Phayu wasn’t going to let him off that easily. His fingers tighten against Phayu’s shoulders as he tries to force himself to say more. “But we weren’t scening,” he adds slowly, bottom lip starting to quiver. “And – and – you were doing something nice for me,” he manages to get out around the lump forming in his throat. His eyes sting with unshed tears, and he feels horrible, saying the words out loud.

Phayu seems to understand this, because he rests one of his hands on Rain’s waist, and reaches up to cup Rain’s face. His expression is gentle as he asks, “But why are you afraid, my darling boy?”

A sob wrenches its way past Rain’s throat at the term of endearment, and he lets out a pitiful little moan as he tries to get himself under control. “P’Phayu,” he cries, “I don’t want to disah-disapoint you!” he gasps, and tries to hide his face, but Phayu’s grip on him doesn’t allow for it, and Rain only cries harder. “Please don’t be disappointed,” he gasps around another little sob. “Please don’t be disappointed in Rain!”

Rain thought he’d run out of tears, but as he grips at Phayu’s shirt, he feels the sobs keep rising up in his throat.

Phayu’s touch on his face tightens as his thumb shifts to wipe away Rain’s tears. Phayu’s other hand rubs soothing circles into Rain’s hip as he sighs and leans in close. His forehead finds Rain’s, and he rubs them together gently. “Phi isn’t disappointed,” he murmurs very seriously. “Phi could never be disappointed in Rain for using his safeword,” he continues firmly, and tilts Rain’s head just enough for their eyes to meet.

There’s no mistaking the sincerity in his gaze. It makes Rain’s chest tremble with trust, but the fear sits heavy there anyway, and Rain doesn’t know how to make it go away. His bottom lip trembles as he gasps out another little cry.

“But – but –” Rain gasps. “We weren’t even doing anything,” Rain manages to get out, hiccuping at the end.

“Rain,” Phayu hushes him, stroking his cheek and wiping more tears away with his thumb. “I need you to listen to me now, okay?” he urges Rain. Rain does his best to nod, vision going blurry from tears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Phayu explains soothingly. Rain starts to cry harder still, so Phayu releases Rain’s hip to instead cup both cheeks in his hands and wipe away his tears. “You were so good, Rain, telling me that you weren’t okay. You did everything exactly right,” he reiterates. For the briefest of moments, Phayu pulls back to press a kiss to Rain’s forehead, and then he’s back, foreheads pressed together, his eyes warm and sincere.

“Phi,” Rain whines. “Shh,” Phayu hushes him instantly. “All you have to do is listen. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?” Phayu asks. Still feeling completely unmoored, and more than a little bit confused, all Rain can do is nod.

“I think maybe I made a few assumptions about your understanding of safe words, and I shouldn’t have,” Phayu admits apologetically. “The most important thing I can ever teach you about safe words is that they’re made to be used.”

There is no question in Phayu’s tone, no hesitation or uncertainty that Rain can latch onto. He stares at Phayu with wide, confused eyes as he tries to understand what that means.

Rain doesn’t understand. He thought safe words were only meant for the most extreme of circumstances – for when Rain couldn’t take it anymore, and he needed Phayu to stop. He’d thought safe words were for bad doms who didn’t know what they were doing, not for doms like Phayu.

Phayu smiles at him, eyes soft, and presses one thumb to Rain’s bottom lip, smoothing over it gently. Rain shivers at the touch, and the sobs fighting to get out finally start to calm down.

“Safe words are about articulating that something is wrong in a quick and efficient way,” Phayu continues, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. It’s familiar, and soothing, and Rain only hiccups one more time before he starts to calm. “Scening is all about communication, Rain. You tell me how you’re feeling all the time – in the way you move, in the way you touch me, in the words you say. But nothing is more effective a communication tool than using your safe word when you aren’t sure how to tell me what you need,” Phayu explains.

Rain’s brow furrows.

“But… we weren’t scening,” he protests quietly, his voice hoarse. Phayu nods, and reaches up to nestle one hand in Rain’s hair, rubbing it gently.

“No, we weren’t,” Phayu agrees. “But that’s the beauty of safe words, Rain. You can use them anywhere, anytime, for any reason, and I’ll understand that you don’t know how else to tell me that something isn’t working for you.”

Rain sits with that for a long moment. Phayu has always been so good at knowing exactly what Rain needs, exactly what he wants, and where to touch to make Rain feel so, so good. Rain hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d been doing something special to give that information away. Phayu had always just seemed to know.

“But,” Rain starts, hesitating as he contemplates what Phayu is saying. He bites his bottom lip, and Phayu automatically reaches up with his thumb to pull it free.

“But?” Phayu repeats.

“But if safe wording means stop… and I told you to stop, today… and you did,” Rain says, trying to make the words make sense in his head. “It’s not that I don’t want you to never give me a massage again,” Rain eventually manages, pouting. Phayu smiles, and tussles his hair again.

"Oh, I know. We both know how much you love it when I take care of you," Phayu teases with his shark grin. Rain whines, and pulls back to slap Phayu on the shoulder, embarrassed. Phayu laughs, and finally releases Rain's face to instead wrap his arms around Rain's waist and haul him in, until their chests are fully flush and their noses are touching.

Rain's heart does a little flip.

Phayu’s smile slips away easily, replaced with a much more focused, serious look. “You know how I told you we needed to talk about today?” Phayu asks him, drawing both of their attention back to the matter at hand.

Rain nods his head.

“Anytime you safe word, we’ll talk about it afterwards. Could be immediately afterwards, or once we’ve got you settled down, or once we’ve got you somewhere safe, but we will talk about it,” Phayu stresses. “First and foremost, your safe word is about communication. Just because something wasn’t working today, doesn’t mean it won’t work tomorrow, while other things might just not work ever. That’s why we’ll talk about it, so that we can both better understand what you need, whether that varies from moment to moment, or day to day.”

Rain nods his head contemplatively. The tears have all dried up, and his head hurts, but he knows this conversation is important. He’d spent so long cluelessly leading Phayu around blindly through his own desires, and Phayu had done such a good job, but Rain understands now that he can’t keep doing that. They can’t keep doing that.

Phayu is always telling Rain to use his words, but he’s not sure he ever really understood before now.

“So…” Rain trails off, tilting his head down to avoid Phayu’s eyes, and then stealing a peek up at him from under his eyelashes. “You’ll still give me massages?” Rain asks coyly.

And Phayu laughs, jerking Rain into him and pressing sniff kisses all over his face and head. “Yes, silly boy,” he teases. Rain smiles, and curls his head into the crook of Phayu’s neck.

There’s relief, then, and it’s… good. Rain finds himself finally able to relax into Phayu’s hold, and he sighs as he realizes just how worn out he really is.

“I’m sorry, Phi,” Rain says almost as an afterthought – almost an afterthought, because it’s not really, not when Rain can’t help feeling bad for misunderstanding things so badly all this time.

“For what?” Phayu asks him, pulling Rain away from his shoulder to look at him with confusion on his face.

“Not understanding safewords,” Rain mutters in embarrassment. Phayu frowns.

“No, Rain. You shouldn’t be sorry for something I should have explained better in the first place. That’s my responsibility,” he insists

Rain pouts, not happy with that answer. “Well,” he pushes, “I’m still sorry!” It feels like he should be sorry, when he’d caused this whole mess in the first place, but Phayu just frowns again, and shakes his head at him.

“Rain,” he warns, the low tenure of his voice a shock to Rain’s already exhausted system, and he perks up, eyes wide. “It was my mistake. Not yours,” he presses, and Rain relents.

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

Phayu smiles at him, pleased, and leans in to press his lips slowly to Rain’s. The touch is warm, so warm, and it makes Rain want nothing more than to melt.

“Good,” Phayu praises, the words like a purr. He nuzzles Rain’s nose one last time, and then starts to shift Rain out of his lap. “Come on, up we go,” Phayu directs him, standing the moment his lap is free and offering a hand for Rain to take. Rain does, enjoying the way Phayu pulls him up off the bed. Phayu’s hand is warm in his as he starts to lead him from the room. “Let's get you some aspirin and some water. You’re dehydrated,” he explains, and he sounds like Phayu again, his domineering boyfriend who likes to take care of him.

Rain follows Phayu easily, already thinking about how good the water will taste on his parched throat. He imagines Phayu will get him something sweet, too, because Phayu always gives Rain something sweet as aftercare, and it’s always made Rain feel so cared for.

“How about hot chocolate?” Rain wheedles sweetly.

Phayu doesn’t so much as look at him, but Rain can see the hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Water first,” he orders, and Rain just grins.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Second chapter of "Hold My Hand, I'll Walk With You My Dear"

Summary: 5 times Buck and Tommy talk about their fears and 1 time they defeat fear together.

Sometimes, Tommy’s mind is like a stormcloud, soaking up bad thoughts until it’s ready to burst. 

He can feel it. The way everything seems a little darker. A little heavier. Like the sun being swallowed by the fog of an approaching thunderstorm. And he tries to not get lost in it, but the cloud is growing every second and he can’t escape its shadow.

Today, the cloud is a wall towering right in front of him. He looks at Evan through its murky gloom and all he can think about is the end.

Right now, they are having dinner together and everything seems to be nice. Stable. But what is a single moment in the overwhelming presence of time?

Time is a river and it only flows forward, disappearing in the distance, behind the up-and-down hills of life. No one can see where it’s going. No one can know how far their river reaches until it drains somewhere in the future.

There is no way to trust a moment because no one can ever know how long it’s going to last. Everything good has an end. Everything good dies. Everyone good leaves.

The past has proven this.

Tommy looks at Evan, who happily rambles about his lasagna recipe and he knows the smile is frozen on his face.

It’s unfair. Evan doesn’t even know what’s going on. Tommy should tell him. But he doesn’t want to kill the mood. Doesn’t want to be the reason this brilliant smile fades from Evan’s face.

Evan is a good person without a doubt. Sweet in a way no one has ever been before. The way he knocked at the door, grinning and holding the lasagna and bouncing on his feet had Tommy actually swoon a little. Dangerous, he knows. It’s dangerous to open up too fast. Too much. Too early.

The stormcloud thoughts are eager to remind him.

He saw the guy who was flying a cool helicopter into a hurricane. The hot capable funny pilot? That’s who he has a crush on. Once he’s going to discover what’s behind that role you play, he’s going to be disappointed or spooked. Maybe he's still going to try because he’s sweet like that. But you’re going to feel it like you’ve felt it all the times before. The beginning of the end.

“Are you okay?”

There it is. Tommy winces. Evan is looking at him with his head tilted to the side and his smile falling, making place for a worried expression.

Tommy nods and forces his lips up into a reassuring smile. Even that feels heavy. “Yeah. Totally. I’m great.” 

That was too much reassurance. He can see it in the way one of Evan’s brow ticks up. He is an attentive person. Tends to get easily - adorably - distracted by his surroundings, but once he focuses on something, he doesn’t let it go. He won’t let this go either, Tommy knows. And dreads.

Doesn’t matter. You can tell him now. Better sooner than later. It’s going to feel like a bandaid being ripped from a wound. No one wants to stay with you anyway.

“You’re a bit pale,” Evan notes, glancing at the rest of the lasagna in alarm. “Was it something in the food?”

“No. No, the food was great,” Tommy says. He runs a hand over his face, sighing. “I … I’m just having a bad day. Look. I’m going to be completely honest. I’m not going to be much fun to be around today. So you don’t have to stay. I get it. I really do.”

It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last.

Evan stares at him for a moment, his mouth slightly open. “You … You don’t have to be fun all the time,” he finally says slowly. “That’s … that’s not what a relationship is about. It’s about sharing good and bad days, right?”

A relationship. He said relationship? Stop getting excited about it. He probably didn’t find another word to describe what this is.

Tommy swallows and looks down at his plate. “You don’t want to be around me on my bad days, Evan. Nobody does.”

Stop sulking. What are our guests supposed to think?! Can’t you at least smile a little more?

Funny. The stormcloud starts to sound like Tommy’s deceased mother. He shudders.

“Well, I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere,” Evan says, smiling softly, but then quickly adds, “Unless you really, really want me gone. Then I’ll go. But … I don’t want to. That’s what I’m trying to say. No pressure.”

Tommy glances up, seeing Evan looking at him so … openly and warmly. He’s so different than everyone else. Still. Tommy should tell him to leave. That’s what would be best for both of them. Evan won’t have to waste energy trying to cheer Tommy up. And Tommy won’t have to be scared of being seen. When he’s alone he’s safe.

Yes. He should tell Evan to leave. Now.

But he can’t. Somehow he can’t. Despite the stormcloud, despite all those bad thoughts, there’s something inside him, a warm glow, that just wants to trust Evan’s words.

This man wants to take care of me. And I want him to. Is that a crime? Can’t I be happy, even if it’s just for the moment? I’m not able to look into the future anyway … So what about living right now?

Tommy gathers his courage. It’s tough to walk through the wall of bad thoughts. One of his hands instinctively curls around his own thigh in desperate need of grounding. “I think I’d like you to stay. If you want to.”

“Sure,” Evan says. “Do you want to eat dessert?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Not really. Not now at least. Maybe later. Can we just … sit on the couch and talk?”

“Of course.”

Outside, the sun is setting, the light bathing everything - including Evan’s curls - in golden light.

Tommy feels exhausted even though he hasn’t done anything stressful today. He folds his hands in his lap, tilts his head back to rest it on the cushion and sighs. “Sometimes it feels like every possible bad thought hits me at once, you know? It’s like a big dark stormcloud. And I can’t escape it. A lot of those thoughts are stupid. Irrational. But they are there and sometimes, they are louder than the rational part of my brain.”

Evan hums. “That sounds familiar. I think I have such a stormcloud too sometimes. I feel lighter when I share those bad thoughts.”

“I grew up in a family that used to hide behind facades,” Tommy says bitterly. “And I was taught to keep secrets. My Dad was a drunk. My mother tried to keep up the impression of a perfect little family. No one was allowed to know. No one was allowed to see what was happening behind the curtains. And I was … I was different. I was quiet, awkward, didn’t make any friends and I liked to stay in my room, drawing or reading. My mother didn’t like it.”

Evan is quietly listening. Now that Tommy started to open up the gates, he somehow can’t keep the thoughts from flooding through. But this is different from usual. He kind of doesn’t want to stop. He feels heard. 

“After my Dad drank too much, drove his car against a tree and died, it was only her and me. She always tried to make me into something, someone, I wasn’t. But I tried to adapt, tried to please her, because of course, I wanted her to love me and she was obviously seeing me as some kind of husband substitute. It was a constant balancing act. Don’t be weird. Smile like you mean it. Be the strong and confident son she craved. Otherwise, she would snap at me and insult me for days. She was ... never exactly stable, emotion-wise. I learned how to cook and repair stuff. I held her arm when we were in public and smiled at the neighbours. I learned how to be funny and charming at the right moment. I was trying to be the son she wanted.”

Tommy falls silent for a moment, feeling phantom pain split his pain. “And then she left me. Ran away in the middle of the night with some fling I didn't even know about. Never saw her again.”

Evan inhales sharply.

“She left me a note. Wrote that she needed to live and that I was old enough to manage. Well. I was kind of lost. But then the army came to recruit. And that’s how I ended up flying choppers.” He smiles. “The first time I felt really free was when I was up in the air. Alone. Finally, I was able to breathe.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” Evan says quietly. “Your Dad leaving. Then your Mom.”

Tommy shrugs. “I’m used to it by now. People leaving is kind of a recurring theme in my life.”

Shit. Tommy curses himself. That was … not a great timing to say something like that. He looks at Evan and is almost sure to see he’s hurt. But instead, Evan looks thoughtful. “You think I’m going to leave too?” He asks quietly.

Tommy swallows. “It came into my mind, yes. I’m sorry, Evan. You don't deserve that. You’re … a good person. I really like you. Sometimes, this feels almost too good. And I start to be scared again. Scared that this is going to be over soon …”

Evan abruptly reaches out, taking Tommy’s hand in his and squeezing gently. “I’m here.”

“You are,” Tommy breathes, looking at their hands. His throat feels tight with emotion. “You are.”

“And I’m going to stay. Look at me.” Evan leans over, cups Tommy’s face and looks him straight in the eye. “I’m going to stay.”

Tommy drowns a little in the honest warmth in Evan’s eyes and he finds that he can almost believe it. Maybe, with time, he can trust those words. Can accept that this is his reality and maybe, the stormcloud will dissolve piece by piece until there’s no more wall. Maybe.

He really wants that to happen. But for now, he just leans into the touch and tries to enjoy the moment.

[tiresomeimagination]

I’m learning Spanish right now so I’ve been thinking a lot about the wacky ways Saeyoung would probably try to help you improve your language skills. In this context, italicized dialogue means it’s being spoken in the target/foreign language! Also the small marked off section is supposed to imply it’s over the messenger. Anyways, this was just a short silly idea I had lolol.

~~~~~

"What'cha working on there?"

came the voice of your boyfriend as he peered over your shoulder to catch a peek at what you seemed so involved in studying at the table.

You chuckled as his fiery curls entered the edge of your vision and you felt him leaning against you. "I've just got to get through this next chapter," you explained, lifting your textbook and turning it so he could read the title. You were taking a foreign language class and it was already so much to remember.

His face lit up at the sight of the title, recognizing the language immediately. "Oh! I know that one! it's pretty easy once you practice it enough."

"Yeah... it's just tough to keep up with the practice I guess..." You groaned, rubbing your face tiredly.

He hummed in thought, absentmindedly resting his hand on your shoulder. "hmm... how about I give you a hand?"

"Uh... well, I guess it would help to drill some stuff with somebody. I'll have a test coming up soon and I'm not sure if I'm ready…" you admitted, assuming he was offering to go through flashcards with you or something.

He gave you a confident grin. "Oh don't worry! You'll be acing your tests in no time after we're done!"

If you had known what he really meant by this, you probably wouldn't have accepted his interference so readily. But it was too late. The gears were already turning and he knew exactly what he was going to do to help you.

You didn't notice the change right away. You got up the next morning and went through your usual routine. It wasn't until you opened the fridge and pulled out a drink that you spotted something so strange you had to do a double take. 

The label was in a different language.

"...What…??" You breathed out, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening. You pulled out a different bottle from the fridge, eyes widening as you found its label had also changed languages.

After a few minutes of rummaging through the cabinets, you realized just about everything had been relabeled in your target language. Once you reassured yourself that you had not gone crazy in your sleep, you came to the conclusion that only one person could be responsible for pulling off something of this scale.

"Saeyoung!!" You called out.

It wasn't long before the culprit in question came strolling in at your call. "Yesss, my honey?" he greeted you casually, and it took you a moment to register that he was speaking your target language.

"Saeyoung, what in the world is going on??" You huffed.

"Immersion really is one of the best learning tools, Y/N. Trust me, I had to pick up a lot of languages on pretty short notice with the agency," he explained, shrugging.

You frowned, brows furrowing. "I understood next to none of that." You grumbled unhappily, hoping he would get the idea and go back to talking normally.

Instead he just laughed, ruffling your hair teasingly. "You'll get the hang of it!"

Oh you were going to kill him.

— — — —

[Jaehee] "I can't help but notice that Y/N has been speaking strangely in the messenger today."

[Yoosung] "I noticed that too! I wonder if their phone keyboard is broken."

[Y/N] "Help!! Saeyoung change me messenger. Language stuck!! No use good T-T"

[Jaehee] "...I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't understand what you're trying to say. There's something wrong with your copy of the messenger?"

[707] "Don't worry, they're fine lolol. They're just using a special version today."

[Y/N] "fix language set!! >:( no more help;;"

[707] "You're doing great, honey! ^^"

— — — —

You tossed your phone aside with an aggravated groan. Your entire version of the RFA messenger had been switched to your target language, but only on your end. Part of you couldn't help but admire the effort Saeyoung must have put into all of this…but that didn't change the fact that it wasn't exactly the kind of studying you had in mind.

"Aww, is my grumpy little kitty getting tired?" You heard Saeyoung coo from his place beside you on the couch as he wrapped an arm around you.

You just pouted at him, your brain too tired to try decoding all his words.

He chuckled at your expression, leaning in closer. "You did really good today. But of course I already knew my 606 was smart, hehe..." he breathed out softly, finally speaking normally again, much to your relief.

You couldn't stop the bashful smile that spread across your face at his gentle teasing and tender praise.

Your flustered look only spurred him on. He slid closer and leaned towards your ear, slipping effortlessly back into your target language and whispering, "There aren't enough languages in the world to tell you how you make me feel, you know. I love you, agent 606~"

You shivered slightly at the feeling of his breath, recognizing at least one particular phrase in that. Before you could form a coherent response, he brought his lips to yours in a gesture that needed no translation. Maybe his way wasn’t so bad after all if you got rewards like this.

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Colors of an Apple

Prompt #8: Dancing together while one person falls, the other lands on top of them and the fallen one laughs. The other confesses.

Epel x gn!reader

Read on AO3

Pomefiore's ballroom is a grand yet private stage. It can hold many students although its magnificence shines when smaller groups are present. There's more room and more freedom for those to practice when a crowd isn't present. And it feels more personal when it's just two.

Like you and Epel, for example.

While you are no stranger to the dorm or this room, it feels different without the SDC group. Even if the competition has long passed, you have hardly stepped foot in here since then. With your role as the manager over, so was your time in this part of the dorm. You nearly forgot how imposing it felt just to stand in here.

"Sorry for draggin' ya out here," Epel lets out a huff.

"It's okay. We were supposed to hang out today anyway," you reassure him. You tilt your head to watch as he fiddles with the speakers.

"I know, but we coulda been doing somethin' better."

For a moment, he considers just leaving and escaping this damned dorm on a blastcycle. As simple as that may sound, it's not. With Rook keeping an all-knowing eye on him, breaking free would be impossible. So, he has no choice but to bend to Vil's whims and do as he commands.

This week, the housewarden seemed intense on getting Epel back into dancing. Something about posture and keeping up appearances and knowing the basics so he doesn't make a fool of himself or whatever. All the first year knows is that he has to learn the waltz and show his skills off to Vil before being granted some freedom. Or move onto the next course of beautiful torture that Epel can't wrap his head around.

Surprisingly, Vil grants him a choice of partner. He does have duties to attend to, so he allows Epel to choose someone to practice with while he's out. Of course, he expects the best from both him and his chosen partner, but that's something he leaves out, more so because he knows that you would give it your all regardless of Vil's watchful eyes or not.

You were his first and only choice for a partner. He couldn't tell if it was due to the burning feeling in his chest or the fact that you were one of the only decent people in this school. Sure, you're a little odd, but he knows that he can trust you. You wouldn't make fun of him for being forced to learn a cliche dance nor run to his housewarden if he tried to run off. If he slipped into his real self, you wouldn't laugh at him either. You're definitely strange but in a welcoming way.

Crystal blue eyes glance your way. His gaze lingers on you as you begin to stretch. While you may not have been on stage for the SDC, the warmups were drilled into your head just like the rest.

Maybe dancing wouldn't be so bad after all. He does get to be with you, dance with you. He does have to kinda teach you too, but today is just the basics. It's easy enough and he won't bark at you as Vil does to him.

"Alright. The song is going to be on loop so we can just keep on going. Pick up wherever we leave off and all that."

He doesn't sound enthusiastic and his lack of excitement doesn't fit with the music that begins to fill the room. Yet, it still pushes him towards you. Epel takes your right hand with his left. His right hand is placed against your back and you put your left hand on his shoulder. Space is kept in between you both and he can't tell if that's a good or bad thing.

"I'm ready whenever you are," you chirp, unlike him you're filled with zest. Perhaps it's a little infectious. He can feel his heart begin to drum against his chest. He can't back out now and look like a shy, dainty little thing. Even if this is some prissy and proper dance, he'll commit to it.

Epel takes in a breath and recalls what Vil has taught him. He repeats it to you, although in a less wordy way. He instructs you on the steps and how it's one foot first and then the other until you get the hang of it. You have to move in a 'box' for this dance.

Starting off is relatively easy. One step. Pause. Another step. Pause. Repeat. You pick up on it fairly quickly and he's glad. This lesson won't be taking all afternoon at this rate!

There's just one thing that irks him a little. And that's your height. It doesn't normally bother him and you're not that much taller, but when it comes to this, he feels inadequate. If he's supposed to be the lead and does cool things with you, how can he when he's shorter than you? If he swings you around or does some fancy dip, can he even hold you? Would you even trust a small, weak thing like him?

He hates that feeling bubbling in his chest. He wants to be cool for you. And he wants to ignore the voice of his housewarden scolding him in his mind for getting wrapped up in roles again. He just wants to be manly, damn it.

Those seething feelings begin to pile up more and more. The repetitive movements aren't helping with his growing temper. If only this was more exciting, more fun.

Epel is about to ask if you're enjoying this or if you're bored like him, but he doesn't need to when he catches your eyes. They sparkle with such determination that it's hard to believe that these lessons were for him and not you. You're lost in the dance, muttering out the timing to help as you continue to move. While you have a lovely gaze, Epel wants to see it break into something better.

"Wana go a bit faster?"

"Huh?"

Epel sneers, his true colors showing as he frees himself from his quiet persona. His grip on you tightens, he closes the gap between you both and quickens the pace. The tempo is lost, but he doesn't care. Now you're both dancing outside of the box and going at a racing pace. He likes that you can keep up with him and the fact that you're smiling and trying to hold back a laugh.

Now comes the cool part.

The videos make it look so easy and he's certain that he can pull it off. If he can, then he can rub it in Vil's face after impressing you. All he has to do is dip you, hold you steady, and let you bask in his glory.

Unfortunately, that does not happen. Lost in his hype, he takes a misstep. His feet collide and he does dip you, just a little too much and unintentionally. A squeak escapes from you and your hold tightens. Epel does his best to save you before you fall, but instead, you bring him down with you.

Colliding with the ground isn't pleasant nor is the extra weight pressing down on you. You wince and groan in pain. You're pretty sure nothing too serious was injured, maybe a little bruise, but nothing major. As you try to shake off the pain, you look to Epel. He's hovering over you, hands resting beside your shoulders almost as if he were pinning you down.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

You blink and stare up at him. Somehow, in the depths of your mind, you find this scene quite funny. The entirety that led up to it too. It just felt so...natural. Just like Epel to do this. Even more so with the weird mix of worry and sparkle that shone in his eyes. He finally had fun even if it all ended up like this.

So, you laugh.

And as you laugh, Epel is caught off guard. The sound of your voice echoing throughout the room wasn't something he expected to hear today. It's charming and makes his heart beat even faster. He's always loved the sound of it and knowing he was the cause makes him proud.

While he's not one to dwell in the spirit of his dorm, at this moment he'd say that you're the most beautiful thing in this world. Your smile, your laughter, your everything.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that." Your laughter dies down but giggles still linger. It disappears once your eyes meet with his. And as you try to catch your breath, you find it to be stolen away. Lips press onto yours with the taste of apples. He doesn't keep your breath for long though.

"You're really beautiful," he mumbles, cheeks burning. He does his best to keep a confident stare on you but even you can tell that he's nervous.

"Th-Thank you," you gulp, unsure of what to do now. Your heart is racing a mile a minute, your mind is unable to process what's going on. So much has happened and it's hard to believe this isn't a dream. "Do you...want to keep dancing? Or..."

"I'd rather just see ya smile again." And perhaps steal another kiss too. At this rate, he might just do it again.

[fruitcoops]

4/13 for a sequel of sorts to backslide? been lovin coops extra recently. p.s. this is the cutest of prompt lists :))

#4: A kiss on the temple

#13: Kissing scars either shortly or long after they’ve healed

Backslide; tw for past injury

Sirius was kissing him. Just kissing. Just gentle. Just focused. Remus watched him work in silence, letting Sirius guide his limbs like a doll. It was kind of nice, not needing to do any work. All he had to do was lay there and be loved.

That in itself was a refreshing change. He was tired of reassuring people over and over again, yes I'm okay don't worry it's fine just a partial one no you don't have to bring food yes I promise, especially his friends. It was embarrassing to know it had been that bad from their point of view. Their intentions were good, but Remus couldn't handle another minute of being treated like glass.

Sirius kissed the sensitive dip of his elbow and laid his head on the bed next to it with a long exhale, watching Remus watch him while the world went by outside.

"I'm okay," Remus said quietly. He reached up to push Sirius' hair out of his eyes and got a nuzzle on the hand for his troubles. He couldn't help but smile. "I'm okay."

Silver eyes tracked over his torso and settled on his other arm, still strapped to his body for another two days. At least the sling was comfortable. Sirius shifted and tucked his feet under the blankets they had kicked away. "I'm trying to believe you."

"I really am, baby."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"Sirius," he whispered.

"It's not," Sirius repeated. "You would tell me if you were hurting. It's impossible to see this and not want to fix it, though."

We're both afflicted with chronic 'I can fix him', Remus thought as he let Sirius' hair flow over his fingertips. Look where it's got us. He let his hand fall and tugged on Sirius' sleeve. His visible care to avoid Remus' bad side when he scooted closer to lay on him made love beat like moth's wings in his chest; Remus buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt and inhaled deeply, soap and laundry and Sirius, not a tinge of antiseptic. The cracking, aching thing next to his heart heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's just time and ibuprofen at this point. Kisses and cuddles are a bonus."

"I'll pass the message along to the guys."

He could feel Sirius' wry grin when he groaned. "Oh, god, no, I've been coddled within an inch of my life already."

"It makes them happy to baby you."

"I wish I knew why so I could never do it again."

"It's because you're so cute." Sirius went to give his cheek a playful pinch and Remus batted him away, laughing. A smacking kiss landed on his temple instead; Sirius pressed their faces tight together. Remus felt him relax, weighing him down like a giant heat pad, one thigh slung over his own and a hand tracing patterns on his belly. Sirius nudged at him once more before returning to his work, dropping kisses wherever he could reach.

He paused at the edge of the sling. Remus kissed the shell of his ear. "You can."

He did.

It was funny, being kissed there. Remus couldn't help the squirmy feeling it gave him, somehow more intimate than being kissed anywhere else. It would never be erotic--and judging from Sirius' reaction, he felt the same--but it gave him the same overwarm fast-pulsed charge that a suggestive hand on the knee might. It was being seen and known in the most blatant way.

Not today, though. No, not today.

"It's not fair," Sirius murmured. Remus shook his head and wove his fingers in dark curls. "I want--I want to take it all away."

"I would let you."

Sirius lifted his head an inch and let his lips linger on the shiny scar marking the pin's entry point all those years ago. Remus was sick of it and grateful. The pin had done its job. His shoulder was stronger, was set in place. The jerk-around hurt, but it was so much more bearable now. His skin cooled when Sirius turned away to put his head on Remus' bare chest. "I'll be here."

"I know."

[maybege]

Here Comes The Bride IV - Knot

Summary: Paz takes you to the person behind your kidnapping. (Part 4 of Here Comes The Bride)

Pairing: alpha!clan leader!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, Western-esque AU, friend to enemies to lovers, mentions of forced marriage,

Welcome to the final part of this short series for @clydesducktape May Writing Challenge! I know it took me a good few months to finish this but I am so happy that the day has finally come! There will be a little bonus blurb with the smut so I guess it is not completely finished but as far as the main story is concerned, we’re done. As always, let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

The sun had not yet risen when Paz woke you. “Omega,” he whispered, his mouth brushing over your neck, “My love, it is time.”

You grumbled, turning on your side, away from him and away from the daylight. “It’s too early,” you protested,  curling your arm around a slumbering kitten, “Can’t we wait a little longer?”

The alpha above you chuckled, his lips moving against your neck as he spoke. “I’m afraid not, love,” he replied, dragging the tip of his nose over your scent gland, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

You groaned, finally forcing yourself to open your eyes and finding yourself face-to-face with the man of your dreams. It should have come as a surprise, really, how comfortable you felt with him in such a short amount of time. But it really didn’t. As soon as the realization had settled that he loved you as you loved him, it was like the last year had never happened. Like you just continued where you had left off before he had taken his leave from the covert.

The last day and night, you had spent with him, following him around the settlement (Ad’ika bouncing around your feet) and getting to know the workings of the group. His eyes had never left you, his hands always on you at some point or another as he had introduced you to his advisors and some of the leading figures of the community. Getting to know everyone made your heart ache about what was waiting for your today. You trusted Paz and you knew he wouldn’t lead you to danger and you liked to think that he wouldn’t abandon you somewhere where there was no return. But you did not know for sure and that made you anxious.

“Omega, I can practically hear you thinking,” he teased you, rough fingers gently tilting your chin until he could press his lips to yours. A shudder went through your body when his hands framed your face, coaxing you to sit up even despite the cold that snuck its way under the blanket. You would never grow tired of kissing him, you decided, sighing against his mouth. You had spent the night in his cabin with him, doing nothing but talking and kissing and talking and kissing and –

You whined when he pulled away and the blanket fell into your lap, exposing the wide neckline of your nightgown. Paz’s eyes dipped to the exposed skin and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He was already dressed, sitting on your side of the bed and you allowed yourself to take him in. Wearing his dark blue bandana around his neck, his dark shirt gaping open at the chest, you knew he was doing this on purpose. Just to tease you.  

Fear suddenly gripped your heart and before you could help it, you could hear yourself saying, “Promise me I am going to fall asleep next to you tonight.”

Paz’s small smile fell and he broke the eye contact, instead looking at his hands that had gripped yours. His thumb brushed over your wrist, a gesture that was probably meant to reassure you but did nothing of the sort.

“I promise you that you can make your choice,” he ominously said, “And I promise that I will support you no matter what you choose.”

You wanted to tell him you had already chosen. That nothing in the whole wide world could now make you leave him.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, “The earlier we get started, the earlier all of this is over.”

*

The sun was hot on your face when you made a very peculiar discovery. You had ridden for hours already, in comfortable silence but silence nonetheless. With the sun wandering across the bright blue sky, and the mountains changing their shapes as you rode on, you just enjoyed the feeling of Paz behind you, his chest broad and warm and his nose occasionally brushing your jaw, scenting you so softly it made you melt back against him.

But as you recognized a particularly oddly shaped tree up on a stony hill, your heart skipped a beat.

“I know this place,” you sat up,  feeling Paz’s arm tense around your middle, wanting to pull you back against him.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize,” he said quietly.

“I have never arrived from this direction,” you mused, “We always rode in from the south,” you turned around, meeting his eyes, “This is where you wanted to take me to all along?”

The alpha grinned smugly, “Surprised, omega?”

“Very,” you muttered, “It is all starting to make sense now.”

*

Long before you arrived at the stone-built settlement, it had thrown shadows over you. The gates opened up, letting you ride in and the courtyard was filled to the brim with people, all gaping at you. But you could only look at one person.

“You are late.”

“It is good to see you too, grandma.”

The old woman laughed and you flinched when Paz got off the saddle, instantly missing the sense of security you had with him right behind you. But Paz did not leave your side for long, subsequently helping you down from the horse, never taking his hands off you. You didn’t know what to do, what to think, what to feel. There were so many questions, so many thoughts and all you wanted to do was to curl up with Paz in bed again and give Ad’ika some snuggles.

He seemed to sense your unease because Paz did not stray from your side. He remained standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his body heat, even when your grandmother, leader of a clan in her own right, made her way to you.

“Oh hello, my dear!” she greeted you walking down the stairs, opening her arms to hug you, “It is so very good to see you.”

You looked up at Paz in confusion and surprise. “She is the one that ordered you to take me.”

“I told you it’d be a surprise,” he grinned with a sheepish shrug.

“Let’s discuss it all over a cup of tea, hm?” she suggested, nodding at Paz while she took your hand in hers. Her skin was dry and warm, just as you remembered and she smelled of the flowers that lined the paths in the gardens. Oh stars, how many countless hours had you spent here, chasing after childhood friends and pining over warriors you never thought would be yours.

You chanced a glance at the said warrior who was listening intently to your grandmother, his hand still on the small of your back.

“Word in the canyon was that your father decided to sell you to the highest bidder,” the older woman announced as you made your way into the great hall. The sandstone coloured the sunlight a warm yellow and if it had not been for Paz beside you, you would’ve felt transported back to your childhood.

“How – How did you know about it?” you asked instead, looking between her and Paz as she settled into her throne-like chair. You had always known your grandmother was a powerful woman but she had always made it a point to be just grandma to you. Now, though, you could see the scheming look in her eyes, the no-nonsense attitude, the blatant “don’t fuck with me” aura.

“Let’s just say I was not the only advisor unhappy with how things were going,” Paz revealed with a smile as his hand wrapped around yours, slightly squeezing.

It did not escape your notice that she noticed, her eyes focused on where he was touching you and you were a little surprised that Paz was so open in showing his affection for you. Surprised but touched.

“It was Briggs, wasn’t it?” you realized, startling out of your musings at Paz’s little hint, “Briggs told you when I would be on the road.”

Your grandmother looked decidedly too happy with your confusion, “There is no way in the stars that I – or anyone of the many people who care for you – would have let you marry that monster.”

“Father would have let me marry him,” you replied, shuffling closer to Paz, “And he knew that I wanted – that I had other options.”

One other option. The only option you ever wanted and he had taken it from you in the belief that you would never know. It felt like the thought settled in your mind for the first time. Your father had accepted your heartbreak if it had meant a political alliance only he had wanted to pursue.

You swallowed back your anger, deciding it was not worth it.

“And that is exactly what we are here to discuss,” your grandmother nodded knowingly, “I am sure there are some people here who would be very interested in hearing your opinions on the matter.”

Like it was some secret code, the doors opened at the end of the hall and you were convinced this day was made to surprise you constantly, catching you off guard each moment you felt like you could settle. Because there, at the end of the room was –

“Buir?” you breathed and your heart sank even when you saw who came strutting in just behind him, “Dreks?”

Paz growled, making a few steps forward and you clung to his hand like a lifeline, trying to keep him by your side. The rage was simmering just below the surface. You could smell it, smell the way he was furious, how the anger, the aggression, the need for confrontation, was right there.

But where there was Paz’s range, there was also your fear. Not of your father, nor of Dreks, but of the things that could happen to Paz if your alpha – because that’s who he was, yours – decided to let his fists speak first in an attempt to protect you. You could not bear the guilt if this resulted in a war Paz’s newly-formed clan would have to suffer just because of you.

“So, this is where you have hidden her like a coward,” Dreks spat at Paz, “It should not surprise me that you sought refuge behind the skirts of a woman.”

“And still you did not find her until you were given the answer,” the gigantic man replied just as angrily. Dreks did his best to seem imposing, you could see it in the way he had puffed out his chest, how he tried to make himself taller by pushing back his shoulders. But there was nothing he could do against the casual size Paz had on him.

And there was even less he could do against the fear in his eyes as Paz clenched his fist, making another step towards the newcomers.

The alarm bells in your head were shrill as you tried to pull him back towards you. “Paz, please,” you whispered hastily, “Alpha.”

He must have smelled your worry because his shoulders dropped a little and he whipped his head around, dark eyes searching yours for a sign of hurt as his chest heaved.

“I don’t want to marry Dreks,” you murmured, just for him, and he relaxed when you brushed your thumb over the scent gland on his wrist, “There is no way I am going back, they cannot force me,” you continued just as quiet, “There is no need to get hurt on my behalf.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up and he looked as if he was about to crack a joke. Your heart skipped a beat at how handsome he looked but the little moment between the two of you was not meant to last forever.

“My child.” Your heart froze.

“Father,” you greeted the older man as your hand dropped from Paz’s.

It was funny, you thought, how it had been less than a week since you had last seen your father and yet your image of him had changed completely. Instead of the loving and supportive parent, you found yourself face to face with a cunning man who could not care less about your happiness if he tried.

And yet he had not yet caught up.

He came towards you to hug you, his arms going around your shoulders as you stood completely motionless in this group of people. Your eyes found Dreks’ and you felt numb. This … this stinking alpha was the man your father wanted you to marry? Still?

“I am glad to see you safe,” your father said, finally letting you go.

“Paz would never let anything happen to me,” you replied, your mind involuntarily going back to the man who had chased you up the hill. If it hadn’t been for Paz … You shuddered.

“You never know with a traitor like that.”

“Don’t call him that,” you hissed, anger surging up in you at the nonchalant tone your father had adopted, “You lied to me! You lied to me and – and Paz, he – he told me everything.”

Your father scoffed, completely unfazed, “Don’t act as if you would even consider marrying a man like him. He is but a lowly warrior playing clan leader for a day or two. How is he supposed to care for you and an entire clan?”

You were so angry, the words felt thick in your mouth like you could hardly get them out. Was this how Paz had felt? Because right now you felt like nothing and no one could ever hold you back. Not even your alpha. “Don’t talk about him like that, he is more alpha than you could ever be,” you defended him, tears of frustration burning in your eyes, “I love him and I will stay with him and we will be happier than you can ever imagine!”

“Too bad that you have to,” he hissed, “The contract was signed and

 “I don’t have to do anything,”

Something in your voice must have given away just how dedicated you were to Paz; just how angry you were. Because your father changed his tune, his face softening, his voice sweetening. “Would you really abandon your family for a man like that?” he asked softly, “Think of your mother, your grandmother …”

The older woman scoffed behind you, clearly unimpressed.

“I am not abandoning my family, I am abandoning you,” you corrected him with a hiss, taking a step back and immediately feeling Paz’s supportive hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over where your neckline gave away to your throat and you took a deep breath, trying to let his comfort wash over you.

“I see how it is then,” your father said, stone-faced, turning to face your grandmother, “I will not forget this betrayal.”

“Neither will I,” she said coolly, “Neither will my daughter.”

For a moment, you imagined seeing genuine fear in the eyes of the man who had always seemed invincible to you. But it was gone in an instant and so was he, turning his back to you as he rushed away, followed by a silent Dreks who looked more like a petulant toddler than anything.

When the doors fell closed behind them, silence followed and you realized that this was it.

“Do you think he will be very angry?” you asked your grandmother carefully, turning to face her.

It was almost amusing to see how unbothered she looked. “Not if he knows what’s good for him,” she replied casually, “And not if he doesn’t want to cross your mother.”

You hummed, taking in the information as you tried to calm your racing heart. Paz cleared his throat behind you, almost shyly vying for your attention and you saw the smile on your grandmother’s face before you turned around to face him.

His eyes had softened as he looked at the floor, avoiding your gaze. Your heart clenched when you realized he had heard what you had told your father – and that despite your feelings for him, he could still refuse you.

Stars, please let him love me like I love him.

 “Do – Did you really mean it?” he asked softly as he took your hands in his. His large fingers ran over your knuckles and it caused butterflies to flutter in your belly. He was always so gentle with you, so careful, so soft, so –

“Do you really want to – You want to come home with me?” His voice broke a little at the end and he met your eyes, then, so full of hope and love, you hardly knew what to say.

So, you simply smiled and nodded, hoping he didn’t think it was pathetic how eager you were. “Only if you’ll have me, of course,” you added bashfully, “I – I could help out in the healing quarters or maybe with the foundlings? I – I promise I could be useful!”

He pulled you in for a kiss, then, one large hand cupping the back of your neck as he stood so close in front of you, you could feel his body heat seep through the layers of clothes. “I cannot imagine anything better than having you by my side for the rest of my life,” he whispered against your mouth, pressing another soft kiss against your lips, “It is all I ever dreamed of.”

“C’mon, alpha,” you whispered, unable to hide how giddy you were, “Let’s go home.”

“Let us get some dinner first,” he objected against your lips, “And then we can make our way home.”

“Oh,” you hummed, something in your core fluttering at how he was, “That sounds like you have plans, alpha.”

He hummed, “I do,

“Care to share them with me?”

He growled, his hand landing on your ass, “As soon as I get you home,” he whispered against your lips, “I’m gonna knot you, omega.”