#what if he gets panic attacks and flashbacks to the kiss :(

[ugly-punkling]

and what if i reminded you that little ten year old gansey didnt want to go back to the party after being stung because he didnt want to ruin the party for anyone coming back covered in wasps? what if i reminded you he fucking accepted his fate at ten and he knew it was happening. what if i reminded you that he had flashbacks regularly for years and years and years and still gets minor reminders of that death? what if i reminded you of noah blowing on his ear and saying "nothing there" when noah is the one that died with him but stayed dead? what if i reminded you-

[leo-in-the-pitt]

Just Talk To Me

Summary: After having a fling with Dr. Jack Abbott for half of intern year, you’re confused as to where your relationship stands. Heading into 2nd year, your determined to focus on the medicine and away from trouble. It isn’t until a difficult night with a patient that you and Dr. Abbott come together again.

Warning: Mostly just fluff, don’t need to read part 1 to understand, difficult patient scenario, panic attack, kissing.

—————————————————————————

6 months later and you’re finally done with your intern year. You were hoping that second year would go better. After all, there’ll be fresh bright eyed interns strolling through those doors soon enough and you and your co-residents wouldn’t be the punching bags anymore.

You knew things were gonna change soon enough but what you really wanted to change the most was your relationship with Dr. Abbott. Yup he’s brought himself from Jack back down to just plain ol Dr. Abbott.

—————————————————————————

For most of intern year, you and Dr. Abbott have been sneaking around before and after shifts to have sex. At least twice a week. It’s a miracle you aren’t carrying his child around at the rate you guys have been going.

Now the sex is great, amazing even. Only one problem. You’ve been trying to talk to him for months now to put some type of label on this ‘relationship’ but he consistently dodges the question every single time. And now you’re questioning if the heaven sent weekly orgasms are actually worth it.

(Spoiler. They most definitely are.)

But you wanted more and Dr. Abbott couldn’t give you that. So with 3 months left of intern year, you cut it off. Completely cold turkey. No more secret flirting, sneaking around, no more sex. Just strictly work.

———————————————————————

Here we are first day of second year. Your schedule so far has you working all day shifts. So only need to deal with Dr. Abbott at night handoffs thankfully. When you both had the day/night off, you’d meet up and each others places to hook up. Nothing more than that. You craved more of a connection with him but, conversations were merely small talk almost like he was still holding back from you.

3 months in and everything is going as good as you could have hoped for. Intubations, crics, chest tubes, codes ran solo. You were a rockstar, and everybody knew it.

Just when you thought things were better then ever, here’s comes your next schedule. Nights. Shit here we go again.

———————————————————————

You made sure to switch your sleep schedule a week before going on nights because Dr. Abbott thinks it’s funny to make fun of how tired you look every night in front of everybody. And somehow catches you everytime you’re yawning. Think he gets flashbacks of you with your mouth wide open sucking him off.

First night on. You got up early enough to shower, eat dinner, and make yourself look presentable before getting packed up to head into the hospital. You decided that it would be good to drive in earlier to try and get a head start to make a good first impression on this string of night shifts.

Everything was going well so far. Dr. Abbott kept his mouth shut this time about your appearance. He actually kept his mouth shut completely not saying anything to you for the first 4 hours.

Midnight rolls around and nothing too crazy had come through the doors so far. It was until one of the interns decided to open their mouth that you knew trouble would come soon enough.

“Is it always this quiet here?”

Everyone looked pissed.

“Congratulations you just fucked us for the rest of the shift.” Said one of the other interns.

And almost like the universe was listening, you hear the nurses stations phone start ringing. A crash involving multiple cars was coming in in 5 minutes. No one knew how many. It wouldn’t be until they arrived that you realized it was street racing gone wrong and there was at least a dozen patients being brought in.

Dr. Abbott knew you lived for the rush and chaos that came with these kind of situations so he decided to grab the most critical patient and pull you into the room.

You were too focused on the patient to realize this was the first communication you had with Dr. Abbott that night.

“One more round and then you have to call it.” Said Dr. Abbott looking right at you.

You were with this patient for over an hour now coding them and doing everything possible to get and keep them back. He had some of the worst injuries you’ve ever seen from a car accident. Something you’ll never forget

“They’re almost back, I can tell!” You yelled back across the room at Dr. Abbott.

You continued to have the team keep up the CPR and medications and blood and everything at your disposal. Everyone was looking at you, almost knowing that nothing was making a difference but they had no keep listening to your directions.

“One more round of epi please.” You were begging at this point. The patient in front of you, a young man who was just coming back from from the store with diapers for his newborn baby girl. He was just trying to get back home to his family. You saw and heard the wife’s screams and cries from the room as you begged the team to keep going.

“No, no more anything. You need to call it.” Dr. Abbott looked at you desperately knowing you did everything you could.

“I’m not calling it. I’m not the one killing him by stopping. You can go tell his wife that she’s a widow now.” You ripped off your gloves and left the trauma room.

As you walked away, you could feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. You went into the staff bathroom to splash some water on your face and pull yourself together. You knew that you wanted to be the one to speak with the patients wife as you were the one who talked to her when she first arrived.

As soon as you walked out of the bathroom, Dr. Abbott is leaning against the nurses station counter right across the door.

“Lets go talk.” He looked genuinely concerned for you.

“I need to go talk to the patients wife. I’m the one that couldn’t save him. I need to talk to her please.”

“No you don’t, I will. You’re in no state to be talking to anyone right now. Let alone that woman who just lost the love of her life and father of her newborn baby. That was a rough case and you need to step away for a second.” He said firmly.

“Fuck. You. I’ve had my second. I’m going to talk to her.” And with that you walked away from him.

You went into the waiting room to call the wife. As you turned around to walk her into a private family room you realized that Dr. Abbott followed you.

“I don’t need your help with this.” You whispered as you walked with the wife past him. You brought her to the room and figured there was no way at this point to get Dr. Abbott to leave you alone with her so he came into the room with you. You tried your best to comfort the new widow as she let out cries you will never forget. By the end of the conversation, you were barely holding it together yourself so Dr. Abbott had to step in and speak with her. Soon enough other family members had arrived to be with her so you and Dr. Abbott left them to grieve.

Once the private room door was closed to tried to walk past Dr. Abbott to avoid having to talk to him about what had just happened.

He grabbed your arm as you attempted to rush past him, pulling you around to face him.

“Just talk to me. Please.”

As tears filled both your eyes, you pulled your arm out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me. I didn’t need your help then and I don’t need it now. “

You tried to walk away from him but he continued to follow after you.

“Jack, I swear just leave me the fuck alone, I’m begging you.”

“You know that I can’t do that.”

He followed you as you walked all the way outside to the ambulance bay.

It was quiet outside. You knew you shouldn’t think that it’s quiet with what had just happened but it was. No sirens, no flashing lights. Just you, Dr. Abbott, and the night sky full of glistening stars above.

“I can’t talk to you right now. I can’t even look at you. Please just leave me alone and don’t need your help.”

“You know I’m not going to just leave you out here. I know that was a tough case and I’m here whenever you decided you’re ready to talk about it. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

What Dr. Abbott didn’t know was that this was that you had only called time of death twice before. Both being on elderly patients whose families didn’t want them to suffer anymore. All the patients that you were primary on had always been made stable enough to make it up to the floors or OR without you knowing what happened next. You had heard screams and cried before but nothing like this.

“I keep hearing her.” You said with your voice shaking. “I still hear her screaming for us to save her husband. She’s basically my age and her whole world just fell apart because of me.”

“This isn’t on you.” He tried to get you to look at him but you were looking up into the sky trying to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks.

“I just watched you work your ass off for over an hour trying to save that man. You did exactly what I would have done. This is not on you, you hear me.”

Dr. Abbots words fell of deaf ears.

“I couldn’t save him. This is all my fault.”

You started to pace back and forth trying to catch your breath. You put your hands above you head attempting to get some air into you lungs but it wasn’t working. Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. Your vision was getting blurry and your ears ringing.

He grabbed both your arms from the top of your head.

“Look at me. Tell me five things you can see.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You managed say between struggling for breaths.

“Tell me five things you can see right now please.”

“An ambulance. A police car. The trees. A bench.”

“Good, last one.”

You were still breathing heavy at this point.

“You.” You finally made eye contact with him for the first time since walked out of the private family room.

He smiled softly at you. “What are four things you can feel?”

“The wind on my face, the tears in my eyes, my feet on the ground.”

You paused for a couple of seconds.

“Your hands in mine.” You hadn’t even realized at this point the he was still holding tight onto both of your hands.

Without acknowledging the last thing you had said and without letting go he said, “Three things you can hear, and don’t say me.”

“The cars passing by. The paramedics talking. The wind blowing in the trees.”

“Almost done, two things you can smell.”

“The freshly laid mulch. That EMTs strong colon.”

He chuckled slightly. “One thing you can taste.”

“The gum in my mouth.”

You hadn’t even realized how your breathing had slowed down. Or how your heart rate was almost completely back to normal.

With your hands still together, he looked into your eyes and smiled.

“Better?”

A tear rolled down you face as you felt yourself holding back tears.

“Come here.” He pulled you in and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

You felt yourself completely break down as your head rested into his shoulder.

He had one hand wrapped around your back and his other hand on the back of your head slowly caressing your hair.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” He kept repeating over and over.

After a minute or two, you pulled yourself out from his arms. He looked at you with his half smile.

“Thank you.” You said to him as you wiped the tears off your face.

“I’m always gonna be here for you. Even when you don’t want me to be.”

This was the first raw moment you had with him. You felt safe and comfortable in his arms in a way you hadn’t felt with anyone before.

“Do you want to get back to work or do you wanna go home for the night? It’s okay if you need to go home, nobody’s going to blame you.” He asked.

You decided that it’d be best to stay and finish your shift. At this point it was around 3 in the morning and day shift start showing up around 6:30 anyway. You knew if you went home you would just start crying again without him there to calm you down.

—————————————————————————

The next 3 and a half hours, Dr. Abbott made sure you got all the easy cases. Which just made the night feel like it was dragging on but you knew it was for the better.

Once the morning crew started to stroll in, you say the light at the end of the tunnel and knew we’re going to be okay, at least until you had to come back later that night but you knew Dr. Abbott would be with you again if you needed him.

After handoff, which took forever, you went to pack your things up a few minutes after 8. You grabbed your bag and walked out of the employee locker room just to see Dr. Abbott across at the nurses station talking to Dr. Robby. You immediately saw them both turn to look at you. You figured he probably told Robby what happened that night and wanted to avoid talking about it again so you tried to speed walk out. But you weren’t fast enough and Robby started walking towards you calling your name.

“Dr. Abbott here tells me you had one hell of a night.” Said Robby.

“Yeah I guess you could say that.” You look over at him wondering if he told Robby everything.

“Good job kid, I’m proud of you. You’re gonna make us all look bad when you’re an attending.”

You smiled for probably the first time since you clocked in for your shift. “Thank you Robby, it really means a lot to me.”

“Go get some rest, we’ll hold down the fort. See you tonight.”

With that he walked away and it was just you and Dr. Abbott again.

You tuned and started heading for the doors and walked right alongside you.

As soon as you stepped foot outside the hospital he said, “Wanna go grab a drink?”

“It’s 8AM.”

“Yeah, I know. Which makes it the perfect time for a drink. I’m sure you could use one.”

“I don’t know. We need to be back here in less then 12 hours and I need my sleep.”

“Please. Just one drink.” He turned his head slightly sideways basically giving you puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. But just one drink and that’s it.”

“Come on let’s go, just follow behind me. I’ll lead the way.”

You didn’t even want to agree with him so you just followed him out into the parking lot.

As you drove behind him, you kept the radio off and the windows open. The breeze flowing through the car kept you awake and calm. Within a few minutes you soon realized that you guys were going to the same bar were all the resident bar crawls are held.

The bar were you finally realized he had been hitting on your for half of intern year.

You followed him inside. He led you to a high top table in the corner and had you sit while he went up to the bar to order drinks.

There was only 3 other people in the bar. Guess some other people also do need a drink at 8AM.

He comes back with a glass of whiskey for himself and an espresso martini for you. At your very first bar crawl, the night of your first kiss, you had mentioned the were your favorite to make at home after a bad shift.

“You remembered?”

“How could I forget?” He smiled at you.

You both just sat in silence for a little while sipping you drinks and occasionally making eye contact.

“Look I’m really sorry for what happened last night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Or stormed off when you were talking to me. That case just hit me a lot harder then I thought it would. It won’t happen again. I promise you.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. Your emotions are what make you human. They’re what make you an amazing doctor. Some patients we won’t ever forget and that’s okay but I want you to be able to talk to someone when it hits you that hard. It doesn’t have to be me but you can’t hold that in all the time.”

You nodded at him. “How do you process all of this after all these years?”

“I don’t. Why do you think he started pouring the scotch as soon as we walked in? He laughed lightly.

You both continued taking about tough patient cases you’ve dealt with and how you’ve handle them. Some you hadn’t even realize you never fully processed.

It wasn’t until you finally looked up at the clock that you realized it was already after 10AM. You had spent close to 2 hours in probably one of, if not the most beneficial conversations you’ve ever had about dealing with the things you both see on a daily basis.

Even though you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be laying in bed asleep at this moment, you didn’t want to miss out on anything he had to say.

The conversation continued for awhile before finally slowing down. Looking down at your watch you saw that it was now after 12. You and Dr. Abbott had managed to sit there and just talk for over 4 hours. About work, what it took to get there and everything else in between. It flowed topic to topic. You felt like you could talk to him forever.

After a moment of silence just looking at each other he said, “Maybe we should head out of here. You need your beauty sleep if we’re gonna save some lives with me tonight.”

You smiled at him. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” Although you didn’t think it was a good idea at all and much rather have sat there with him all day until you had to go back into the hospital that night.

You walked out first, basically dragging your feet not wanting to end the time you were having together. You were parked next to each other. He walked you to your door. It was just the two of you standing between your cars.

“Thank you for everything Dr. Abbott. I appreciate you more than you could know.”

“When we’re outside the four walls of that hospital, call me Jack. Please.”

“Well thank you”, you paused briefly, “Jack.”

He just stood there towering over you, look down with his puppy dog eyes again. You couldn’t even turn to get into your car with how close he was standing next to you. At this point, you had no idea what was going through this brilliant mind.

You were basically nothing more then colleagues with benefits a few months prior. Yet here you are now. He talked you off the ledge hours before, held you close as you cried your eyes out, then took you for drinks while you talked for hours uninterrupted.

You decided that this was the perfect time to get some answers.

“Jack, what are we?”

His eyes softened. “You know you’re more than just my resident.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t want to make this hard for you. Residency is hard enough without being with your attending. I don’t want you to have to deal with everyone treating you differently because of me. You deserve better than me. You deserve to be happy and I don’t think that’s with me.”

This was the most honest his been with you since that first kiss.

“Jack I don’t care what the rest of them are saying. First of all Langdon and Mel already know about us.” His eyes widened.

“And I’m sure others have seen the eyes you make from across that ER at me too. I have felt more at peace with you in the past couple of hours then I have every felt with anyone before in my life. I want to make this work between us. But that can only happen if we’re honest with each other.”

He shook his head at you.

“I knew from the first conversation we had that there was something more between us. I’m sorry for dragging you along all this time. I really need to be with you, even if that means having to tell Robby about us”, he laughed. “I can feel myself falling for you and if you’re sure that you want this, I’m all in. We can make this work, I promise.”

Who knew that a breakdown would bring you two together. After over a year of knowing each other you were finally going to be in a relationship.

He put his hand up to your check, brushing the hair away for you face. He slowly leaned in a kissed you gently on the lips. Even after all the previous kisses, this felt different. You had both finally been vulnerable with each other and it had paid off.

After awhile of standing in the bar parking lot, kisssing between car. You both pulled away from each other.

“Just I should let you go home and get some sleep now huh?”

“Dont worry we don’t work tomorrow night so I won’t be needing my sleep then.” You winked at him.

He bit his lip looking down at you.

“But only if you tell Robby about us tonight.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“So I tell Robby that you’re my girlfriend tonight, you do that thing that drives me wild tomorrow morning?”

“Girlfriend? I didn’t hear you ask me that yet.” You chuckled.

“Will you officially be my girlfriend?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal then Dr. Abbott.”

And with that you both shared another kiss before he opened your car door for you.

With you both sitting in your cars, you rolled down the window.

“Don’t forget, your part of the deal comes first Jack.”

He laughed and winked at you.

Now let’s just see how truthful Dr. Abbott is really being about coming out with your new relationship.

—————————————————————————

Wooo this is technically a Part 2 to The Pitt Intern! There will definitely be a part 3, ill probably just keep going with it until I run out of ideas lol.

I’m new to writing these stories so let me know what you guys think! Hope you enjoy!! :)

[penvisions]

one trail or another {din djarin x reader}

Pairing: Din Djarin x F! Reader

Summary: At the end of a long day, running into a Mandalorian is the last thing you expected to happen when the lift to your temporary apartment stalls.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: flashbacks of the attack on madalore and aq ventina, readers home world was also attacked, forced proximity, itty bitty panic attack, din is soft in this cause i wanted him to be, kissing, i think that's it!

A/N: this is a little piece i whipped up for @toomanystoriessolittletime writing challenge -> 47 minutes in heaven. also perfect timing with all the new mandalorian content from the star wars celebration yesterday!

An automated ding rings through the air, the lift that came at your beck and call opening. You tap your fingers on the side of your thigh, right over the flowing fabric of your tunic, nerves getting the best of you. You just wanted to go home and enjoy in a canter of something bubbly after the day you’ve had.

The doors hush as they open, clanging loudly as they do so completely- to reveal a figure already inside.

Gleaming, beautiful armor fastened securely to a broad, tall man is directly in the middle. His visor is dark and blank, unreadable as you shuffle on your feet before biting your bottom lip and enter the lift with a tight hand on the strap to your bag. He’s a little intimidating, his form so broad and tall. You duck your head as you settle into the minimal space beside him, voice gone from you as you feel your heartbeat pick up.

The lift barely makes it up two floors of the tall building before it’s jolting to a sudden stop. Your bag thuds heavily to the floor as you loose your balance, body careening toward the interior wall as you stumble back. You brace for the contact, already anticipating a headache, eyes clenched shut but you never collide with it. Your silent companion has his arms wrapped around you as he stands firm on spread out feet, keeping you both from jostling as the lift sways for a few moments more.

Your breath wooshes out at the sting of how cold his armor is even through your clothing, the leather of his fingers a shock as they hold you tight around your ribs and the back of your head. His chest plate is firm where your cheek rests against it. He’s cradling you to his body, a thick thigh between yours, your head never cracks against the back of the lift. When the lift finally stills, you glance up at him and see the visor already aimed down at you.

Your fingers grip the heavy duty fabric of his flight suit, just underneath the pauldrons fastened to his shoulders.

And then the lights go out, dousing you both in complete darkness.

You go completely still with a sharp breath, memories plaguing you of the last time you were plunged into darkness so completely, so intensely. Only this time there isn’t the lingering scent of gunpowder in the air and dust from crumbled concrete and glass.

“I got you, mesh’la.” His voice rumbles against your chest, filling the space even if your mind is wiped completely clean of anything but this very moment. Your realize that the odd wheezing sound you hear is coming from you, deep in your throat as you take sharp breaths. Metal, you smell and taste metal and see red behind your eyelids, so much red. From the deep, rich cloth you used to wear to the blood splattered all around and covering your hands. The phantom physicality of being pushed has you gasping and pressing into the solid form holding you tight.

“Easy now, you’re okay.” The Mandalorian’s voice is even, far more controlled and that alone seems to sooth some of the panic rising in your nerves.

“W-what’s your job here?” You try to distract yourself as the lift groans as the cables go taut above and below you, racketing up your heart rate even more.

“What makes you think I’m on a job?” His fingers dig into your back where he holds you. The thigh between your legs tenses and you feel lightheaded. You try to focus on the feel of him, on the way his helmet is relaying the gentle rasp of his breath through the modulator.

“Because I’ve never seen you here before,” You carefully detangle yourself from him, body lighting up and you think that his own hands linger as yours do. You back yourself into the wall of the lift, silence deafening between you now. Assuming you said the wrong thing, you bring your palms up to your eyes and rub at them, exhaustion and self-consciousness the only things you feel after the long day you’ve had. Your body slides down the wall until you’re sitting against it, legs crossed as

“I’m working a job, yes.” His voice comes from beside you, startling you but you don’t flinch or show that you didn’t hear him move about the small space.  

He’s searching for someone who has beskar, a lot of it. Won it in an illegal gambling ring and was rather harsh when confronted by those who tried to jump in the aftermath of the game- seems they were pretty convinced that the person cheated them- played them into a false sense of comfortability that the game would end in their favor. He thinks, briefly, for a moment that it’s a lost cause. The trail only led to this city, guiding him from two different ports at two different planets.

Then it went cold and he decided to rent a room for the night, a small relief he doesn’t normally indulge in. The cramped cockpit of his small ship and the small, cooing figure he misses guiding his decision.

He wants the beskar, but he knows he needs to rest as well before setting off to scour the city.

“I’ve seen your kind before, they came to the rescue of my home world. A long time ago.” Your memories play out, the ones of cramped and dusty spaces. Of blaster shots and explosions. Red fabric stained dark. When you had emerged, it was too late. The blood you were splattered with was alarming, resulting in your extended stay at a medic center on an entirely different planet. The only one in the room with you had been a blue armored Mandalorian that left the moment you woke up.

“We are a sparse people, now. Perhaps we extended ourselves into near extinction with our rescuing.”

It’s certainly an interesting statement, one you think he’s been mulling over since the attack that nearly wiped them from the planet. You remember it vividly, you remember the destruction of your own world all the same.

“Mercy and kindness override wrath,” You know it all to well, the sentiment you let sit in the open air you now share with someone who feels all too familiar and foreign at the same time. The muscles in your stomach jolt, the mechanics hidden underneath the skin there are beginning to cool down. If more time passes, they’ll power off completely, the spring needs to be replaced and you’ve put it off until the end of the day.

You must’ve made a noise as you hold a hand to the spot underneath your clothing because you hear the shuffle of fabric beside you.

“Are you hurt?”

“My mechanics need to be replaced.” Removing your hand, you glance at your communication link on your wrist as it beeps. Signaling the exact thing you already knew, there was someone on your tail. But you suspect it’s the man right beside you in the dead and stalled lift.

The glow of the screen is dull, but you read the time all the same. It’s been nearly half an hour since the lift trapped you both inside it.

“You’re a cyborg.” It’s not exactly an accusation, but it is more a statement than a question aimed at you in that deep, resonating voice through the helmet.

“No,” you huff a laugh as you feel the very small currents cease their humming. “I’m very much human, don’t you fret. Just the result of a bad injury that wasn’t treated in time.”

You weren’t so lucky as the only other person who you recall seeing ducking and weaving around debris flying through the air and the droids that mercilessly took down every person that crossed their paths as they ran run buildings and tried to escape. A little boy, with tan skin and dark hair. The last glimpse you had of him was his parents lowering him into a supply bunker. Your vision through a small hole in the large slabs of concrete encasing you blocked by blue armor.

When it was clear again, both the group of armored fighters and the boy were gone.

But you don’t worry for him any longer, as you’re sure he’s grown into the man beside you. Taken into the care and oversight of the very people he’s pledged his life too. The ones who you’ve kept tabs on in your travels, the ones who left you a pendant to connect with them should you need to- should you need more help from them.

The cables groan once again, signaling power running through the lines once again. As the lift begins to hum at a low frequency, you wrap a hand around your middle and begin to stand. Large hands are on you once again, hooking in an elbow and helping you back up to your feet. He’s as silent as you are.

But you know who he is and he doesn’t know that you’re the one he’s been searching for.

His hands don’t lift when you’re both upright. He’s close, his armor is cool even in the warm space from your shared breaths. He must be tired too, because his feet scuff when the lift jolts suddenly back to life and the lights flicker back on.

Without missing a beat, the lift begins to ascend again, like it wasn’t just shut down for nearly an hour.

Connecting two people who once occupied the same planet, lead the same life despite being completely different now.

He finally releases you when the lift comes to a smooth stop on your floor. Stepping back from you as the doors open. He follows a few paces behind, helmet swiveling as he takes in the number plaques beside each door. He’s about to open one a few down and across from yours when you turn to him and let out a low hum that has his helmet turning quickly.

With a crooked smile and a shove to open your unlocked door, you step aside with words that have him narrowing his eyes and palming the blaster in the holster at his hip.

“Don’t you want the beskar you came all this way for, Din?”

The little boys bright smile flashes in your mind and you wonder what it looks like now in his matured face. Does he have scruff, are his eyes still that dazzling brown that catches the light and turns amber?

He’s stalking toward you with silent steps, his hand wrapping around the handle of his blaster as he stands on the other side of the open door. His helmet peeks inside the apartment, assessing the empty space. The velvet bag on the dining table catches his eyes through the visor but the sensors don’t pick up any threats or hidden heat sources.

The dark visor trains solely on you. It would be intimidating if you weren’t positive you knew who was hidden behind it. With a dip of your head, you reach for the pendant around your neck and pull it over the fabric of your tunic. The glint of the beskar skull tells him all he needs to know.

His cape flutters as he moves through the door, his fingers twitching on his weapon as the door closes and locks behind him.

“No tricks here, the beskar is yours by right. It’s important to your people. I was simply taking it from the very people who stole it from you to begin with.” You reason with the man who looks ready for a fight, you’re sure he would attack simply on the basis of you knowing his true name and nothing more. It’s a secret now, a threat to his entire way of life- of who he’s become.

“Your trail went cold in the shuttle depot.” The blaster is returned to the holster at his hip. His gloved hands reach for the bad and he’s lifting an ingot of beskar from within it. Its reverent, the way he looks down at it, the gleam of it something that brings him a little bit of peace.

“All I did was go to work and then came home. Went right back on shift this morning.” You step further into the space. He doesn’t move or seem to be on alert any longer, even when you settle into one of the chairs at the able and pull a small coil from your bag.

“Then, how?” You feel the wright of his gaze on you, roving over the pendant left over your tunic to the way your hands press into your middle to disengage a panel. You lift the fabric up just enough to display the little bit of yourself that isn’t human and use nimble fingers to remove a burnt out looking coil.

“I tend to run cold due to the mechanics in my middle. Doesn’t leave much of a lingering warmth for your helmet to trace. It gets lost in the shuffle of every other set of steps.” You replace it with the new one from your bag. “And I know your name because you told me that first day of school. You were nervous, I remember that much too, though I doubt you’re subjected much to that feeling these days.”

And suddenly he remembers it too, the way he was swept from the very rubble you were. A toothless smile set into the kind face of a young girl his age swims up in his mind’s eye. He had been nervous, the second to last time he announced his name. But it wasn’t because it was the first day of school, it had been because of that little girls giggling stirring butterflies in his stomach.

He always wondered if she made it out like he did, though he received no answers from those who took him in. Told him he was the only survivor. But he wasn’t, because he’s pretty kriffing sure that that same little girl is now sitting in front of him and effortlessly changing a component of her mechanics. The mechanics you claim are from a life-threatening injury.

As soon as the panel is pushed back into place, you’re being lifted from your seat. Gloved hands cradle your face as the visor peers over you.

“They told me I was the only survivor.” His words are low, almost as if they’re a whisper through the modulator.

“I made it.” You whisper though you’re not even sure he can hear it over the loud rattling of your heart against the inside of your ribs. Then suddenly the hiss of his helmet being disengaged drowns it all out, catching you off guard as you flinch at the puff of air against your face. You clench your eyes tight, but his gravel rasped voice is close as his bare nose brushes against yours.

“We made it.” His lips press to yours; a firm kiss you were both destined to share on a sunny afternoon between childish giggles as you grew closer through years of friendship. But it’s okay that it’s shared now, that time had to pass by you both as different paths were walked- different lives were led. The paths intertwine, the paths finally connected and it was all thanks to a kriffing faulty lift.

for my fellow din girlies (gn): @dindjarindiaries @sin-djarin @djarins-cyare @burntheedges @saradika @littlemisspascal @the-mandawhor1an

dividers and banners by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. absolute fucking filth. simon fucks us good and proper in the shower this time! PTSD flashbacks/hallucinations, panic attacks, mental health issues are heavy in this one pookies!

hello my silly little friends! when i tell you shit has been crazy, i mean shit as been CRAZY !! I MISSED Y'ALL THOUGH!! i struggled with this one because i wasnt sure if i wanted to add in another scene, or if i was ready to end it just like this.., obviously i decided to end it like this..next one will be alot of comfort and we finally meet johnny!

series masterlist here.

CHAPTER FIVE: retirement?

Simon stood by the bed, watching your sleeping form with a softness in his eyes that few had ever seen. The warm scent of freshly cooked food filled the air as he gently nudged your shoulder.

“C’mon, lovie, wake up,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. You stirred, your lashes fluttering as you blinked sleepily up at him. A slow, lazy smile spread across your lips as you inhaled the delicious aroma.

“Simon…” you sighed dreamily, stretching your limbs like a content cat.

“Made you some food,” he said, setting the plate on the bedside table. “Figured you’d be hungry after earlier.”

You sat up quickly, excitement lighting up your face as you reached for the plate. “You’re the best, Si’.” You took a bite, humming in satisfaction before beginning to chatter away as you eat, enjoying the food he put effort into making for you, even though it was clearly a bit burnt in places. “You know what I wanna make for dinner? Big, juicy burgers, the kind that drip when you bite into ‘em. And I want mac and cheese—real mac and cheese, not that boxed stuff. Oh! And mashed potatoes! The kind that’s so creamy you could eat it with a spoon like pudding. All from scratch.” You were absolutely ravenous, whether from the energy you’d exerted today or from the heat itself you’d never know. 

Simon watched you, utterly enamored. His wolf preened at how easily you envisioned your future, how you just assumed you would be together for these little moments. He wanted to put a ring on your finger immediately. Right now. Drag you to the nearest town and make it official before you could even blink. The thought had been lingering in his mind since the moment he first laid eyes on you, but now? Now it felt like an inevitability.

He smirked as he leaned against the headboard, watching you practically glow with excitement. “So, let me get this straight—” he began, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I fuck you into oblivion, and your idea of a thank you is homemade food?”

You gasped, your cheeks flushing a deep red before you burst into giggles, covering your face with your hands. “Simon!” you whined, shaking your head, but he only chuckled, loving how adorable you were when you got flustered.

“You’re too damn cute,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before rubbing your back soothingly. “Could eat you up myself, babygirl.”

Still smiling, he stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Gonna start us a shower,” he told you, running a hand through his short, messy hair as he walked toward the bathroom. He paused in the doorway. “Oh, while you’re cooking, I’ll get that broken bed frame picked up. Move the bed from the guest room in here instead. It’s bigger anyway.”

You blinked at him, tilting your head in confusion. “Where will you sleep?” you asked innocently.

Simon turned back to you, a slow, knowing smirk curling his lips. “With you, obviously.”

The realization dawned on you, your lips parting slightly, eyes wide. He wasn’t planning on sleeping in a different room. Not anymore. He wanted to be here, beside you, permanently. And just like that, he knew—he wasn’t just thinking about staying the night. He was already contemplating retirement, or at the very least, switching to a desk job at the base. Something that would allow him to be here. With you.

His little Omega. His mate. His future.

Steam curled around the bathroom as Simon turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. He turned back to see you stepping in behind him, your skin already flushed from the heat of the room. His hands found your waist, guiding you under the warm spray as he reached for the soap.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, running his hands along your sides, smoothing suds over your skin. His touch was careful at first, reverent, but his fingers couldn’t help but linger over the spots that were still sensitive, still tender from before.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he traced his hands lower, over your hips, down the curve of your thighs. He could smell it—your heat was calming, not gone entirely, but not as urgent as before. Still, you smelled so sweet, so utterly tempting.

“You’re irresistible, you know that?” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as his hands roamed. His wolf rumbled with approval, his body reacting instinctively to yours.

You whimpered, leaning back into him, your body pliant under his touch. “Si’… you keep touching me like that…”

He smirked against your shoulder, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples. “Like what, lovie?” he teased, voice thick with amusement. “M’jus makin’ sure everything is clean for you..”

Your breath hitched, a needy whimper spilling from your lips. His body pressed against yours, firm and unyielding, the heat of him wrapping around you even more than the water cascading over both of you.

His mouth found your neck, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down to the mark he’d left earlier. “You’re mine,” He says, voice filled with a hunger you’d never heard in anyone’s voice before when they talked to you. “Wanna take you again babygirl, but I know your body needs a break..” A sigh escapes your mouth, and you find yourself pressing yourself back against him, his cock already rock hard and pressing firmly into your lower back, right above your ass, you think he whimpers when you arch your back, pressing your tits against his hands and pushing your ass up against his length simultaneously. 

“you want me babygirl?” His voice is a whisper brushing against your skin, lips ghosting after it as his fingers worked, one leaving your breast and traveling along the plane of your soft belly, lovingly caressing as he ghosted to the top of your cunt, fingers just barely brushing you in your most sensitive of spots. “hm? know you’re tired sweet girl, sore, but I promise I’ll be quick..” You whine, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you feel his cockhead brush against your entrance. “you can take it right? such a good girl f’me huh, babygirl?” 

You cry out as you feel the stretch of him sliding into you, the warmth of his hand pressing you against his chest, back arched as you stood on your tip toes, ass bouncing with every slap of his hips against yours. He hit you in a way that made you cry from this angle, the drag of his cock causing immediate overstimulation, you took it like a champ though, his good girl, you just wanted to be good for him. 

“yeah, that’s it honey,” He coos, dropping his fingers to your clit, two of the massive things circling on long, languid strokes. A choked sob leaves your lips, your pussy quivering as yet another orgasm hits you, his filthy praises ringing in your ear as he pumps himself in and out of you a few more times, painting your insides in his cum once more..he was quick about it, just like he promised. 

You were beginning to realize that Simon was good at doing that, even in your fucked out sex haze you could comprehend that he had thus far not broken a single promise to you, in general and as he fucked you (although, you vaguely remember something about him not fucking you until your heat was over..but that was neither here nor there right now). An honest man, he was. 

That hadn’t always been a good thing in your life, honest men, and scared you more than anything else. The dream from the night before flashing through your mind as he pulled out of you, a whimper leaving your lips, from the loss or the thoughts you’re unsure. 

He’s so sweet to you, a stark contrast to the brute way he can talk and behave and you thrive in it, a part of you self satisfied at that small fact. He hums a soothing melody as he washes you, rubbing a body wash along your extremities, gently rubbing over your sensitive mound when he gets to it, knelt before you as he placed a small gentle kiss to your hip, your body pliant to his touch. 

You should be focused on him, you should be returning the favor, soaping his large, broad, war torn body, massaging his sore and achy muscles (you saw the way he cringed when he stood up from couch the other day, heel of his hand brushing gently against his lower back), peppering his skin with soft dainty kisses..it would be the least you could do, really. Instead, you stared through him, looking at him but seeing something else entirely. 

He has to notice, you realize when you see him looking down at you as he rinses out the shampoo from your hair, the way his eyes don’t leave your face as he rinsed his own. You hardly register when he wraps a towel around you and leads you out of the shower, setting you down right in the middle of the double vanity as if you are nothing to lift, as if he could do a hundred reps and never get tired or lose stamina. You hear his voice but you don’t comprehend his words when he leaves you sat there, hardly recognize that he’s even left the room, your mind caught in a revolving door of memories, of things that feel like an auditory hallucination when you hear your papas voice telling you that you’d never be more than a worthless omega, a stain smeared on the existence of his blood line, a tragedy to end all tragedies. what was that saying he had told you that time when he rocked his fist into your eye socket? an eye for an eye? nothing more than a karma laden tragedy sent by the goddess to test his limits..

“…-osie?” You’re jolted from your thought, two firm hands gripping your shoulders as they shake you. “there she is..” He sighed in a way that made your heart race, as if he’d been worried. “You with me, swee’art?” 

You nod, pressing your face into his chest as he rubs your back soothingly. “Thank you..” You whisper, eyes closing briefly as he gives you the smallest of squeezes, holding you to his chest for a moment. It’s sweet, and gentle, grounding you back down to earth, to the present, a reminder to breathe, to enjoy the time you have with this wonderful, beautiful man stood above you, wrapping his arms around you, welcoming you in with a kind of love and warmth that you’d rarely ever felt in your life. 

When you separate, you headed down the stairs to the kitchen, to make that big feast you were talking about, he to your room to dismantle the bed that he broke fucking you earlier, it’s with his shirt on your shoulders, hanging down your body, somehow like a dress on you despite your pudgy, your pussy bare as you clamber down, a load of laundry in your arms, basket laden with the sheets from your mattress, the shirt of his that he had tucked under you while he was sleeping, now stained with cum and drool.

You set the basket down at the door to the basement, where the washer and dryer are, and maybe its your imagination, maybe it’s your over productive thoughts warped from your heat, emotion running high, but you swear the door is talking to you. You swear its got his voice, swear that the gold, hand etched door knob turns into his fist, shaking at you in violent rage for..for god only knows what, you’d seen that thing shaking at you for something as small as taking too loud of a breath before, so really who knew what you’d done to set him off now. 

You leave it there, sitting in front of the door as you turn your back to it, letting out an uneasy breath as you grab your suddenly pain filled chest, heart racing. Your insides felt like they were being clinched, wrung out like wet laundry before being hung up to dry, felt tears well in your eyes as you heard his voice in your head, screaming, screaming, tearing you down with everything that he had, ripping your mind apart. It was as if the door had come alive and had grabbed you from behind, shown you exactly what happened down there, as if you didn’t relive the memories on a daily basis. 

“STOP IT!” You shout, throwing the closest thing to you at the door, a casserole dish you realize, left over from the morning your heat started. It shatters into what looks like a hundred different pieces, some of them bouncing back and scraping against the bare skin on your legs, lingering stinging wounds akin to the kind that you were so used to. Akin to the hours spent picking them out of your knees when you were younger, before you were saved. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

You don’t hear the thundering of the steps above you, don’t hear anything, don’t see anything but the man of your literal nightmares coming out of the basement door, large shards of glass sticking from his head as he grins at you, blood pouring into his mouth and staining his teeth red. You don’t want to see it anymore, you can’t bear the thought that even in your isolated little cabin, with your Alpha upstairs that the one who created you could torture you still. “STOP! STOP! STOP!” You don’t realize you’ve begun hitting yourself until it’s too late, don’t realize that the large form suddenly in front of you is Simon, not until after you’ve screamed bloody murder at him, until he’s got you tackled to the floor, damn near sitting on you as he pins your clenched fists to the floor, right above your head, you eyes still streaming with tears and your temples pounding from the pain you’d just inflicted upon yourself. 

You’re a crying spluttering mess, too out of your mind to realize that the man above you is nearly in hysterics, face red and eyes wide with panic as he watches you break down, watches you look wide eyed and horrified at some invisible force. Oh, you had scared him. Had made his heart stop beating for merely a moment with that first scream, with the sound of the shattering glass. 

It took everything in him to calm you down, to get your hands to unclench, to get you to stop trying to hurt yourself, him. 

“Eyes on me lovie,” He breathed, keeping your gaze locked on him so he could calm you down, he stroked the skin of your arms, where his hands were still locking them above your head. He needed you to calm, needed you to snap out of..whatever this was. He needed you to know that you were safe, that nothing and nobody would ever hurt you when he was around..especially him, because you were looking at him like he was somebody else entirely, like you were terrified to be near him. You shake your head, choking on air as you start to sob. “S’okay baby, keep those eyes on me, yeah? Can you do tha’” 

A nod, barely there. You couldn’t get your breath, couldn’t get your chest to stop feeling like it was being squeezed in a vice, like your heart was being sucked out of your body through your fucking throat. “I-h-u-rts-” You hiccup, finally stopping the wild bucking you were doing under him. “Mak-ke i-t s-toop” You were choking on words, on fear, on memories of a past life that shouldn’t haunt you anymore. “Pl-easee, c-ann’t br-e-ea-thee” 

Simon, for what it was worth, was doing everything he could. Everything he could possibly think of to help you, and as you started hiccuping some more, struggling to breathe, he recognized it for what it was: a PTSD Flashback. His body felt like caving in on him when he realized that something so horrible had happened to you that would cause you to suffer in the same way he often did. He wanted to rip the world apart at it’s fucking seams for doing this to you, wanted to make it feel the pain that you probably felt, wanted to bury the fucking person who put this intense of a fear into your brain, your body. He would piss on the grave too, if you would let him. 

“Rosie, baby, look at me..” He whispered, letting his voice soften. He switched his hands so that he was holding both of yours in one, still keeping them above your head, not quite trusting you to have free range, he didn’t care if you hit him, not one bit, he’d happily take the blows, but he was afraid you’d hit yourself some more, afraid that you’d knock yourself out somehow. “Shh, shh..just breathe babygirl, just breathe..know it hurts honey, but you gotta breathe if you want it to feel better..” What was it his therapist had told him? Focus? Focus and breathe…focus and breathe..your eyes were all over the place, pupils dilated from the adrenaline he assumed, looking everywhere but at him. He growled, trying to hold back his own tears as he gripped your face in his large hand, fingers squeezing your jaw as they held you still, making your lips pucker as he forced you to look at him, deep into his brown eyes. You were trembling under him, watching him with those big eyes. 

“alri’ lovie, you’re gonna do as I say, okay?” You nod, muffled hiccups coming from your mouth still. “You can keep your eyes open, or you can close ‘em, whatever helps better, baby, but you gotta fuckin’ breathe for me, righ’?” Another nod, breaths coming short and quick, your face turning red from what he presumes is lack of appropriate blood flow, or maybe from the strain of the struggle. You don’t close your eyes. A sign of trust, he hopes. “Breathe with me, baby, okay?” He’s so damn scared, he’s hoping you’re not about to pass out. How would he explain this to John? He’d think he broke his pretty little live in omega.. “In through your nose, right?” You do as he says, doing it with him even. “Breathe in all that fear and anger from whatever the fuck just happened, and then breathe it all out, let it all out into the world, okay? It belongs to the universe now..” Your eyes don’t waver from him, and fuck it all if he doesn’t fall somehow more in love with you for it, he see’s you visibly start to calm down, sees your eyes go from as wide as saucers to a normal size as you work with him. “Good girl..” He whispers, watching you inhale every time he does, exhale when he does. 

You go ten breaths before he feels your body start to relax, fifteen before he feels comfortable letting go of your face and hands, though he remains on top of you. He’s quite aside from the occasional whisper of praise, reminding you that you’re his good girl, that you’re doing so good for him right now. 

After a few long minutes, you finally feel like your chest isn't about to explode, like your lungs aren't on fire. You don’t see him anymore, dont hear him. He’s gone. He’s been gone from your life for almost a decade by this point, hadn’t bothered you like this in a long, long time. ‘And he won’t ever bother you again, little one..’ Ah, there she was, that sweet, sweet wolf. She had kept you safe back then, as safe a she could anyway without being allowed to shift into her true form. She had been the only maternal figure you had too, had nursed your wounds for you from the inside out, voice cooing at you in your head. Maybe that was why you put up with her cunty side..she deserved to feel her feelings in any way she saw fit after the hell you both went through, you both did. It was her who had saved you too, who had grunted up the strength to take over your mind long enough to get John’s attention that day, had known somehow that he would help you.. ‘And look at what it brought us too, a quiet life..an alpha of our own..you and I, we’ll have a good life with him, the goddess sent him to us..penance for the life she gave you before..’  Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the Goddess’s way of an apology for the shit she had birthed you into. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears streaming from your eyes. Your head hurt, your heart hurt..You could barely look up at him, he didn’t deserve a mate that was this messed up. That hallucinated and lost her mind. That was your scar to bear, no one else’s. ‘Don’t you realize that he’s just as messed up as we are? That he’s got just as many scars as us? We were meant for each other, little one..in more ways than one..’

taglist: @wise-owl @bingoz @astrxsee @gazsluckyhat @howlerwolfmax @thisbitch-6 @littlelovebug98 @ungodlydilf @madsothree @rosallels @brilliantbecca94 @jaxz21 @mk-kbtbb @silas-aeiou @kelbowmacaroni @kittygonap @eremika104

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 4

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use (WC: 4.1k) A special thanks to @sixpennydame for her help on this chapter.

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Your eyes lock with his. Amber light kisses half of his face, placing the shadows under his eyes in the spotlight. They seem more present the nights before expeditions.

He raises a brow, as if asking, ‘what demons are you running from?’

“I draw,” your voice fills the silence. “Nights before expeditions. It helps me clear my head.”

.

.

.

The first memory Levi has of his mother is him combing through her long, black hair.

Not many could keep long hair in the Underground. The lack of sun exposure, for one, made it hard to keep healthy hair. And if not that, the lice usually did it. When it struck a brothel, women and men either found a way to kill those nasty fuckers or they were forced to shave their hair and wear cheap wigs instead.

And yet, his mother did manage. It was one of the things that drew men to her—Olympia and her hair that shone like midnight.

Kuchel’s hair was black, and it did, at times, seem to be made of darkness itself. Only, it was none of the misery found in the shadows of the Underground. Instead, it felt more like the darkness found in the night sky. Liquid starlight. Levi remembers running his fingers through her hair, marveling at the contrast of it against the paleness of his skin. 

Yes, Kuchel Ackerman’s hair was beautiful. Elegant, even.

When she died, people often told Levi he was her spitting image. He doesn’t know about that—he often wonders if people only said this out of pity, a handout to somehow assuage his grief, or if they truly meant it. But Levi supposes that if he inherited something, it is his mother’s hair. He has a decent amount of it, thick and dark, and when he runs his hand through it, he feels a little part of his mother in him.

Beyond that, he is different.

Levi has known for a long time that he is nothing special to look at. He’s boyish, nothing like the people Levi’s met over the years—men and women born with the right set of genes under the right set of circumstances. Levi isn’t like that, and that’s fine. He’s not a self-conscious man. He knows his worth.

Still, the question begs to be asked: knowing all of this, why do you choose him as your subject today?

Levi looks up from his reading, considering this very question. Early morning is in full bloom, and Levi’s sitting around the table on the porch, enjoying his first tea of the day while reading the newspaper—two activities he’s neglected these past minutes. 

He’s been too busy pretending not to see you hiding your sketchbook.

What are you even hiding it for? You’re not fooling anyone. If your seated position—knees pulled in under a blanket, tools tucked behind both—wasn’t a dead giveaway, your face is. It always carries an intensity to it whenever you draw. Tight, puckered lips, like you were extorting all the pressure to the center of your face. A crinkling of concentrated brows. Vivid eyes, sharp with focus.

Levi reels all his restlessness in his fists. He should not interrupt you. He will not.

This is, as far as Levi is aware, the first time you are picking up a pencil in the last three years. The first time you show an interest in getting back into drawing at all, in fact, in the time since the Rumbling.

Which explains why Levi’s frozen like a statue, scared to pop this moment.

Don’t say anything, he tells himself. Don’t fucking ruin it for her.

Levi remembers the first time he caught you drawing like this. It was an evening before an expedition, one of the first ones that followed Isabel’s and Furlan’s deaths. Everyone huddled around the campfire, but you sat alone. He’d approached you then, the loner he was, seeking your presence like a moth to a flame. He remembers that look you wore when he caught you—wide eyes and parted lips. You thought he’d come to judge, to call you a creep for drawing others.

Instead, Levi asked if he could watch.

(Later, he would even tell you the hard truth—to keep on doing what you did, because this was the only way to immortalize every face, that many men and women in your drawings would not come back.)

From there on, Levi would often catch you drawing here and there. Cadets, squad leaders, horses—no subject seemed out of reach. He remembers Hange even trying to convince you to draw titans on a particular expedition (“Unfortunately, Hange, I think drawing a real-life titan, while also on a moving horse, would end in my untimely death.” “Boo…”).

You loved to draw and Levi loved to watch.

They say an artist’s gaze is alluring, and while Levi can agree your eyes have this magnetic way of pulling him in, there’s another thing Levi loves to watch.

It’s your hands. With them, you draw lines on paper. With them, you bring tenderness and kindness. With them, you heal people.

Recently, Levi's started to wonder how your hands would feel on him. The memories of last night are still on his mind; Levi remembers just how close you got to him.

“Hey, what do you think Erwin and Hange would be doing if they were with us?” your voice cuts through the silence.

Levi’s fingers twitch against the newspaper in his lap. For a moment, he wonders if he misheard you.

But no… you really asked.

And Levi has no answer. 

This is the first time you’ve brought up this subject—brought them up. It isn’t that Levi doesn’t want to talk about Erwin and Hange, but he doesn’t remember the last time he could talk about anyone from his past. He thinks the 104th sometimes walks on eggshells around him, as if bringing names up might summon a curse best left forgotten.

But he supposes, if anyone would want to talk about the Survey Corps veterans, it would be you.

He’s grateful that it’s you.

“Erwin,” Levi clears his throat, “Erwin would bury himself in knowledge. That know-it-all would probably run the local library by now.”

You perk up, eyes bright. “Ohh, good one. See, I would have bet on him becoming a teacher, but now that you mention that, well, I change my mind.”

Levi grunts in agreement, imagining Erwin following in his father’s footsteps. Fitting. "He’d do both. Read a book while lecturing you about another one." 

“He totally would.”

An excited smile graces your lips then, just as you focus back on your sketchbook. The low morning light catches the scar on your face, and Levi thinks he would love to trace over it with his fingertips, to bestow softness where there was once pain.

Instead, he watches as you turn back to your sketchbook.

“Erwin would have books from everywhere, I’m sure of it,” you muse. “He’d have an entire collection of it.”

“Yeah, his home would be a mess.”

You snort, raising a brow at him. “You’d help him sort it out, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck no, I'm not his fucking maid.” Levi scrunches his nose, remembering how often he used to clean after Hange and Erwin. “Erwin would need to learn to clean once and for all. Until then, I’m not stepping foot into his house.”

“Tough love, huh? Well... that just means he’d have an excuse to come here then, to enjoy the porch the way we are now.”

Levi makes a non-committal noise. 

“What kind of book do you reckon he’d be reading?”

Levi shrugs, throwing an arm to the back of the chair. “You’d know better. You were a member of his book cult.”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn't a cult, 'Vi.”

“At one point, you met every Sunday evening. Sounds like a cult to me.”

You tilt your head, amusement gleaming in your eyes. “You know, some might call knowing so much about a bookclub you’re not a part of rather creepy.”

“Please.” Levi shoots you a look. “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“That’s because we always hoped you’d join on your own. We all considered you our non-official member, you know.” Amusement flashes across your face as you seemingly scour past memories. “Like... a grumpy mascot, or something.”

Levi clicks his tongue, shaking his head dismissively.

Silence falls. Levi takes to watching the horizon. This side of the house with the porch faces the ocean; from here, it’s just a few minutes walk to the beach. Levi can tell that the waves are calm today, that the tide is low; he can’t make out the sound of water. 

“What about Hange, then?”

Levi’s gaze focuses back on you as you ask this question; you’ve placed your bare feet on the chair, one arm looped around your knees and propping your chin on it.

“I think Hange would’ve poured themselves into modern inventions,” you say. “They only got to see some of Marley’s technology, but Kopon’s nation is more advanced, so I’m sure they would have wanted to go there... or at least see what remains of it.” 

Levi thinks if Hange’s life hadn’t been cut short, that they would have followed in Onyonkopon’s footsteps and ended up working on those damn flying machines. They showed such an interest for trains and moving vehicles—something Levi could never understand. Flying seems like the natural next step. 

He tells you as much.

“Walls, you’re right," you say. "We’d look up at the sky and see one of their inventions. I’m sure about it.”

“Yeah,” Levi suspects there’s fondness in his tone just about now, “we would.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, where Levi can just admire the sky and the clouds and you. He thinks this exact view would make a nice subject for a drawing—if he could draw.

It might be this realization that causes him to speak up, “Hey…”

“Mm?

“What are you sneaking around for?”

Your eyes fleet up, at first surprised, before melting away into a sheepish expression. You lift a hand to scratch the back of your neck, like Levi catching you hiding your sketchbook was somehow shameful. 

“You noticed, huh?”

“Hard to miss,” Levi mutters, brows scrunching low, “you’re shit at hiding.”

“Hey!”

“Face the truth, Adler. I’m half-blind and even I noticed.”

“You say that like you’re not one of the most perceptive people I know... I’m pretty sure you’re still leagues above everyone else.” You take to tapping the eraser side of the pencil against the arms of the seat. When you glance back at him, your expression softens. “Fine, you caught me. I was drawing you. But... well. It’s just that you’re easy to draw, Levi. Drawing you feels… natural, I guess. Always did.”

At that, Levi doesn’t have a reply. There’s a burning sensation forming in his belly, a flutter that’s close to panic, only he knows it is not quite that.

“Sorry,” you say, “does it... does it bother you? I can stop.”

“It’s fine…” Levi exhales, heat prickling at his cheeks. His fingers tighten on his knee. "Though I don't know why you bother." 

A light breeze picks up his bangs; he gets a whiff of salt and sand. 

“I guess I never told you before, but… you’ve always been a good subject,” you say. “See, everyone always thought of you as this no-nonsense soldier and, sure, you were that, too, but... I don't know. Those evenings when you’d sit by the fire and read, or stare into the flames, there was... something that slipped through the cracks.”

“Something.”

“Yeah. Something.”

“And now? Why draw me now?”

“And now… and now it seems like the easiest thing. Muscle memory, you know? My emotions are easier on paper than they are in my head.”

A ball forms in Levi’s throat. He wants to ask you about what sort of emotions you’re trying to make sense of, but saying those words seems unwise right now. Impossible, some might even say. 

“Keep on drawing, then,” is all he manages. 

For the rest of the morning, Levi sits in the quiet, watching you draw—something he never thought he’d get to experience again.

.

.

.

“Stay safe,” you tell him by the stables. You’re geared up for the expedition, your horse’s reins in hand.

Levi says nothing, but he squeezes your shoulder to convey his own words: Don’t die.

.

.

.

“Marigolds, periwinkles, carnations. These flowers will go right here, here, and… here. What do you think, ‘Vi?”

Levi squints, trying to ignore the glare in his eyes cast by the sun. He follows your delicate finger, pointing to spots in the garden, filled with different colors and scents.

“Looks like flowers in dirt,” Levi mutters.

You chuckle, placing a marker beside each plot of turned soil.

As promised, Levi is helping you decide what to plant where today. Ever since lunch, the two of you have been treating the space like a canvas that’s yours to fill—sectioning the land, preparing the soil, uprooting and transplanting potted flowers out of their containers, assigning them to specific spots of dirt. 

“I picked these flowers because they’re supposed to be good for beginners.” You roll your shoulders back as you shrug off your stiff crouching position. “I wonder if they’ll thrive.”

Levi makes a noncommittal noise in response, not knowing the answer to that question. He shifts his weight from one leg to another, trying to ignore the way his shirts clings to his skin. 

On account of the warm weather today, Levi has rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. He’s currently trying to ignore the urge to scratch at his forearms—rashes from an overexposure of sun. Levi knows he ought to go back inside, but he stays rooted to his spot. He tells himself it’s because he promised to help, though he knows you’d chastise him if you noticed the state of his skin.    

He slides his sleeves back down before you notice. 

“They look like every other flower to me,” he finally declares, eying the delicate petals between your fingers, “fragile.”

“Well, flowers are more vulnerable than other plants, I’ll give you that. But you gotta trust in the process, right?”

“S’not about trust,” Levi places a hand on his hip, attempting to fan himself using the edge of his shirt, “just don’t want you getting all mopey if they die.”

You snort. “I won’t. We used to grow herbs near the infirmary back on Paradis, remember? Sure it’s not much different.”

Levi isn’t so sure about that, but he doesn’t say a thing. What does he know about growing things, anyway? All he’s ever seen of flowers is how they’re laid on graves. 

From the corner of his eye, he catches you looking at him. Something soft lingers in your expression, like you want to say something, but you don’t. He looks away before you can. There’s dirt smudged across your cheek, he realizes. He should tell you. Or wipe it off. But he does neither.

“Hey, did you know flowers have unique meanings here in Marley?” you say, breaking the silence. “That each color and species is symbolic of a specific emotion?” You point to a cluster of yellow petals. “The girl working in the library, she explained it to me. Yellow marigolds represent passion. Purple periwinkles serenity. And pink carnations are all about gratitude.”

Levi studies each one, committing the names to memory without really knowing why. “So you use them to express feelings and shit?” 

“Something like that.”

“Sounds like a pain.”

“Maybe. But some people like the poetry behind such gifts. Others like the game. And sometimes, people are just too shy to say the words out-loud, so they find comfort in finding other ways to express themselves.” 

“Is there a flower that says you’re a pain in the ass?” 

“Not that I know of.” You quirk a brow up at him. “Is that one directed at me?”

“Who else?”

That isn't the whole story. If flowers really meant something, you’d need a whole damn garden for everything he doesn’t say. No flower could say it all. But Levi doesn’t quite say that, either. 

Instead, he gestures toward the porch stairs. “What about those?”

You follow his line of sight, spotting the blue flowers you planted your first weekend here. 

“Oh, that’s technically a herb,” you say. “Myosotis. The forget-me-not flower. It represents... love, in many ways.”

Levi watches the forget-me-nots shift with the wind. In the distance, Scout lunges at a butterfly, and misses. He exhales through his nose, watching her try again. Stubborn little thing.

“Hey, can I ask for your help?” You shift beside him, adjusting your grip on a bundle of flowers. “I’m having a hard time digging this hole. I think there're pebbles blocking the way, but I’m scared these flowers will get all tangled up if they're not held properly.”

Levi peers over the edge of the garden plot. You’re planting carnations, holding them with one hand as you attempt to shovel a hole with the other. 

He grumbles something beneath his breath but walks closer anyway, his cane digging against the turned soil. With a slow, careful movement, Levi lowers himself onto the grass, shifting onto his uninjured leg before dropping onto his ass with a dull thud. He leans his cane against his knee and reaches for the flowers.

With a parting smile, you move back to your task. You shift your weight by pressing onto your knees, using the small shovel to push stubborn roots and obstacles aside.

Incidentally, it also gives Levi the perfect view of your ass.

And fuck, if your gardening outfit (worn-out denim overalls with a white t-shirt) didn’t already make his mind swim, this view now certainly does.

Not for the first time since you arrived, Levi has to wonder about the questionable fashion choices from Marley, and why it's having such an effect on him all of a sudden. Levi’s lived through war, through hell, and yet here he is, losing a battle against a damn pair of overalls.

His fingers tighten slightly around the stems in his hand before he can help it, but he forces them to relax. 

What a pain. 

Levi knows human attraction is perfectly natural; he's experienced his share of it across his life. But human attraction hasn't mattered to him for a long time. 

He’d be lying if it didn't matter now.

Because, not for the first time since you arrived—Levi finds his mind wandering. He imagines leaning back into the grass, his hand pressed on your lower back as he helps you stay balanced crouching. He tries to envision the texture of your overalls under his fingers. Would it be rough, or would it be soft—soft, like what he pictures your skin’s texture to be? How would you even react if he touched you? His touch would probably repulse you, right?

And yet, last night, he swore—

Levi closes his eyes, groaning inwardly.

This is ridiculous. 

Is this really all because of last night, when he thought he saw you leaning in? Fuck, for all he knows, everything he saw was just a figment of his imagination. A trick of the light. He’s only able to see from one eye—should he really be relying on his sight to make judgment calls? 

Sweat trickles now down his back, thick like honey. 

“Oi,” he blurs out, desperate to derail his own thoughts. “After all this shit grows, what then? Gonna run a flower empire or what?”

“Hm... I’m not sure if I’d make for a very good florist.”

“You'd learn.”

“Maybe, but I’m afraid my motivations are more... selfish, in that regard. I guess I just wanted to experience what it was like, to tend to a garden. Do things normal people do, you know?” 

Levi stays silent. Scout meows in the distance, missing her butterfly again.

“And I figured you might like something nice in your home,” you add casually.  

At that, Levi has to click his tongue, the sound sharp against the wind. He looks out at the horizon. “I’m not much for pretty things.”

(That’s not entirely true. There’s you, and he’s certainly into your prettiness, as exemplified by the way his body is reacting in your proximity.)

“Who ever needs pretty things?” you point out. Levi frowns, turning his attention to you again. The sight of you surrounded by a myriad of flowers is like something straight out of a painting. Enchanting.“That’s the point of prettiness. It’s there to bring people joy, it’s there to be admired and inspiring. It may not be needed, but it’s appreciated, right?”

Levi's suddenly reminded of his mother, of the way she used to keep the house clean, of the way she used to teach him to drink tea. 

He remembers asking her why she bothered. In his memories, her voice is soft like a feather. “Because it is pretty and elegant,” his mother answered, “and you are all those things, my Levi.” 

“Are you aware that even animals like pretty things?” By now, you’re a little out of breath from all the shoveling. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “Take pigs, for example. We think of them as dirty animals because of how they’re kept by humans, but... out in the wild, they’re pretty clean. They even like to decorate their homes with things they collect.”

“Tch. Are you comparing this to a pig’s sty?”

You laugh. “'Course not. But what I’m trying to say... what I’m trying to say is that this garden feels like planting something… I don’t know, hopeful. Not because we need it for anything, but because it just... it just exists.”

Levi doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his hand test the soil between his fingertips. He thinks about how he used to hate the feel of dirt under his nails—how it reminded him of crawling his way out the Underground, of survival. That sentiment hasn’t changed here, only he finds himself being... willing to be in this state. 

“S'not so bad,” he murmurs. 

Later, when Levi finally reaches out to place his handkerchief in your hand, telling you there's dirt on your face, he’ll come to another realization: that for the first time, he doesn’t have to worry that it’s blood you’re wiping away.  

Just a bit of dirt. 

.

.

.

It’s like blood rains from the skies that day.

The expedition is declared a disaster.

.

.

.

A few days later, when Levi comes home from work, he finds another gift waiting for him on his dresser.

You’re not home tonight; you’ve volunteered to help with the preparations for the upcoming festival, so he doesn’t get any opportunities to scold you for spending your money on him—again. 

Instead, Levi unravels your letter. 

Levi, Mark my words, you’ll see that flowers have their use-cases, even for a tea-maniac like you. I hope this suits your taste. -A

Levi unwraps the gift, guessing already what its content might be. He isn’t disappointed. The bag contains loose tea leaves, filled to the brim, along with tiny white buds that remind Levi of snow. 

Elegant cursive adorns the note on the satchel, its reading clear as day: 

Jasmine flower tea. 

I hope you enjoyed this update. The plot is going to start picking up from next chapter onwards, so I hope you can look forward to that ^^ If you have time, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments as they really keep me going. Take care!

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[jollyhunter]

THE BROKEN CIRCLE

Beau!Dean x hunter!reader

Characters: (mostly) Beau Arlen / (flashbacks) Dean Winchester x hunter!reader, also Denise and Cassie AU: "Supernatural" x "Big Sky" crossover, set after S15 of SPN

One Shot (???) UPDATE: A SEQUEL IS PLANNED. THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK!! 🧡🧡🧡

Warnings: - Major MC death mentioned (end of SPN spoiler), implied panic attack, angst and just buckets of tears (I'm coping with a certain someone's death here) - No use of Y/N - English is not my native language

Words: ~4,050

Setup: "Winchester" - That's the name you applied with at the police department, when you started a new life in Big Sky, Montana, 4 years ago. It's your deceased husband's name. Or rather, meant-to-be husband, since Dean died 2 weeks before he got to propose to you. Today you return from your one month time-out. But a lot has changed since you went to visit Sam; You've got a new sheriff.

And he's the same man you thought you'd never see again.

The Broken Circle

Cold.

In one word, that's your last memory of when you gingerly cupped Dean’s face. How your tender fingers caressed his bruised cheeks and wiped away the dirt from his battered skin. Shakily combed out the rubble from his damp brown hair and scrubbed the dry blood off his fingers.

The last time you squeezed Dean's lifeless hand before it slipped from your trembling fingers. Cold and busted lips scraped against yours when you gently kissed him goodbye for the last time in this life.

...Or so you hoped. Who knew what heaven had in stock for you two.

You just wished you could have been there, in that damn barn. Been with him in his last minutes. Could have held his hand next to Sam. Could have told him how much you loved him. Reassure him that you'd give up the hunting life like you both had planned. That you'd try and live a good life for him... and that you were sure you'd see each other again.

But instead you had to take leave of Dean's lifeless body. Hollow. Drained of everything that made him the man you loved and had planned to spend the rest of your life with.

Dean gave his life for so many innocent people – hell, for the entire world. But he never got to have his own life. Never got to live it the way he wished to.

It just seemed so damn unfair. You had so much planned for your future. Have yourself some rug rats, a dog maybe, a house, a garden with those ridiculous white picket fences. You’d live a cherry pie life once you’d leave the hunting life behind you.

Or so you liked to picture it in your heads. On those rare, peaceful nights where you'd rest in each others arms like an old couple. His fingers combing your hair while your thumb carefully stroked his battered knuckles. Whispers of daring dreams filling the silence.

But reality was cold. Bloody. Like an animal put down. With a last effort, put to rest on his bed in the bunker by Sam and you.

This image will haunt you for the rest of your life, you know it. It already did for the past 5 years. If only you could have —

"Winchester?"

You blink rapidly, your mind thrown off for a moment when you snap out of your spiraling thoughts.

Denise waves with a paper in front of you to get your attention back. "She was mutilated. And it wasn't a bear. Her heart had been cut out."

"Jesus," Cassie breathes with a look of shock and disgust, shifting uncomfortably next to you.

"Yeah," Denise's face grimaces into a painful one. Her eyes are darting from Cassie, down to the report and back up to your still slightly absent gaze. "What do you make of it, Winchester?"

"Sounds like a werewolf." Damn it. The words slipped your lips before you could fully snap out of your memories. “I mean, sounds like a bit far-fetched but I’ll let Sheriff Tubbs know.” You force a wry smile when you grab the piece of paper from Denise’s hands, ready to head out of this messed up conversation.

“Sheriff Arlen,” Cassie calls after you and you stop in your tracks to look back at them with arched eyebrows.

“Sheriff who?” You inquire with a puzzled look. How the hell could you have missed this much in just one month off duty?

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” Cassie repeats and Denise quickly adds with a teasing hum, “And his ass is just- mmmh-” she makes a chef’s kiss hand gesture while Cassie rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle.

You let out a huff in mock-annoyance but can’t help the faint grin on your face. Maybe, one day you’d dare to befriend them. Maybe, whenever you’d feel ready for letting people into your life again. But not today.

Ready to pick up your work at the police department, your eyes immediately land on the new name on what used to be Sheriff Tubbs office. ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen’ is written in an arched, golden text across the door’s glass.

You raise a sceptical eyebrow at the name. “Beau” you spit out the name under your breath, already feeling a distaste for this new sheriff.

In your defence, it wasn’t personal. It is just in your nature to feel sceptical towards anything new, especially people. Perhaps you gave up your hunting life. But any hunter will tell you between a swig of whiskey and a loaded shotgun that you’ll never lose your hunter instincts, no matter how hard you try. That’s not how it works. You don’t end this business by walking out the door.

It ends you.

In some way you were like trained bloodhounds. Always one chase away of your next kill. Unable to ignore the smell of blood. You were painfully aware of that fact. You could never live a fully normal life without the occasional hunch or a nervous look over your shoulder.

But you’d learned to accept it and make the best of it.

Here you can still help people. Save people. And once in a while nudge the sheriff into the right direction when you suspected something more than a suicide. Or you’d discreetly plant anti-possession charms on people when you had a hunch that demons were involved in a case.

Yet Sam believes you had retired fully from hunting like he did. And you liked to belief so, too. But on some days you weren’t so sure whether you even wanted to.

In some twisted way, hunting will always connect you with Dean. And at the same time it pains you, like a slow poison. Because you know it’s what he hated and never wanted for you.

And what took him from you.

It is a walk on a tight rope, really.

With a little huff of defiance you push the door to the sheriff’s office open. Your eyes dart around the empty room as you lean slightly forward, “Sheriff Arlen?”

Nothing. Oh well. With a quick glance over your shoulder you decide to take the chance and just drop off the report. You step inside, your fingers tracing the edge of the paper as your mind is instinctively drawn back to the case. I’ll have to look into this… bloody werewolf —

“Ah, Deputy Winchester, ain’t it?”

You freeze in mid motion.

And so does time. The paper slowly slides from between your trembling fingers and flutters to the floor. The unmistakable voice jolting through your mind and body like a lightning bolt. Your breath is caught in your throat, your mind and body paralysed.

The world holds its breath.

This is impossible.

“...Winchester, innit?” he repeats as he steps into the office and casually walks up to you, a wide smile spread across his face.

It can’t – NO.

You don’t dare to turn around.

Not that your body would be capable of any movement anyway. Every muscle is tense, your spine’s gone completely rigid. And your heart’s hammering against your ribs like it’ll crack your chest open from the inside.

You stand there like a deer caught in headlights. Headlights of a ‘67 Chevy Impala called Baby.

It has to be my imagination.

“Ya got somethin’ for me there? Oh-” You feel his elbow briefly brush your side as he bends down to pick up the paper next to your foot.

You don’t move an inch and stare ahead.

He straightens up again and steps around you to place it down on his desk. When he finally moves into your view and turns around to face you with his warm smile – your heart stops.

Emerald green eyes look back at you. Deep and sparkling green oceans. Alive.

Your brain freezes. Your mind scrambling for an explanation but failing to come up with anything.

This can’t be.

After a moment of tense silence, the tremors of your bottom lip make way for what your mind refuses to believe in.

“Dean?”

His name slips you in a mere breathless murmur. Afraid that whatever this is, will shatter the moment you dare to breath again.

Beau raises a brow. “Dean?”

He repeats the name with such nonchalance, such valuelessness, like it’s just some random clerk who he’s got no business with. As if that name didn’t mean the world to you once. Still would. Still does.

But the way his name dropped from his lips…

It clogs your airways. And the question mark at the end was him ramming a dagger into your heart and twisting it, without him even realising.

“Uh, no ain’t that.” He gently shakes his head and his lips melt into a cheeky smile as if that would make his next words any less painful.

“I’m Beau.”

Silence. Once again you feel like the air’s sucked out of your lungs. Like someone had pushed you off a cliff.

Someone who is an imposter of your deceased husband.

Beau. Your jaw clenches. And the name bounces off your mind. Your initial reaction being immediate rejection. No, you’re not... Beau.

Your eyes flicker across the man in front of you.

He might look quite… changed. He’s got a beard, neatly trimmed even. His hair is longer and… soft. Gone was the rugged and calloused man you loved. But it is still him. His eyes with their hidden secrets lingering behind those intense glinting, emerald green pools. His bow legs you’d recognize out of a hundred. His voice, his features, his – everything. Everything on him seems much softer but still… in your eyes, it’s Dean. No doubt.

“Why are ya lookin’ like you saw a ghost?” Beau questions with a tilt of his head, leaning back against the edge of his desk.

His voice snaps you out of your intense gaze. Your mouth opens, but no words make it past your quivering lips. All words drowned out in a flood of a million questions. Your focus drifts off, your eyes darting around the office like you’re expecting Gabriel to pop up any second and laugh at you.

But the room stays reduced to the two of you.

You feel like you’re on a tipping point.

Hands clenched, one subtly moves back to your hidden silver dagger – you do what you were trained to do in situations like these; Your mind grips for the lifeline and kicks into hunter mode. You rattle off the list of possible monsters; Shapeshifter? Ghoul? Am I dreaming? Is it some sick game of a trickster God? —

“Darlin’? You alright?” he asks, his voice now more concerned. You look terrified. As pale as a sheet, the blood drained from your face. Close to a panic attack, he guesses by your rapid breaths. Beau reaches out with his hand, gently patting your arm to get your attention. “Hey… Easy, just breathe.”

At his touch you jolt and finally snap out of your state of shock. The hand hovering over the concealed weapon falters. His worried eyes lock with yours.

The life-line snaps. Your mind tips over. Enough to make your stomach twist and turn, about to throw up. With only one shared look, everything’s back; The pain, the poignant grief, the cold skin under your fingertips, Dean’s lifeless expression, emerald eyes gone dull, the stench of decay, of old blood and dirt and his burning flesh and-- it all crashes down on you. All the emotions and memories you had buried in the depths of your mind, now laid open.

Fresh and hungry. Slowly swallowing you whole. Again.

“I- I don’t feel so… good – sorry,” you sputter, your hand clutching your chest in an effort to keep it together. The same second you spin around on your heels and storm out of the office without looking back once.

Beau. His mere presence was suffocating.

You remember the moment you and Sam cleaned up Dean’s lifeless body. How your fingers brushed against a folded paper, carefully tucked away in his jacket’s inside pocket.

Sam’s face had contorted the moment you pulled it out. Clearly, he had known what secret the paper held and before you got to question his knowing look, he suddenly got up. While walking out, he said he’d give you some time alone with his brother.

Once you unfolded the notepaper halfway, your breath stopped. Your eyes slowly shifted from one scribbled word to the next, each of them hitting harder than the next, each of them taking more of your breath. You swallowed past the lump in your throat when the realization of what you’d been holding in your hand slowly set in.

They were notes of Dean. Notes for your upcoming anniversary in two weeks.

You unfolded the rest of it and your eyes widened. The paper began to crumple in your shaking hands while wet stains swallowed some of his jotted down keywords. When your burning eyes reached the last four words, it had felt like whatever was left of your broken heart had just been ripped out entirely.

The raw emotions rolled down your cheeks, your tears mixing with his last unspoken words…

“Will you marry me?”

Beau was left back staring at the slammed door in bewilderment and a little stunned. After a moment, he sighs and pushes off the desk to follow after you.

“Winchester!” He calls down the corridor, watching you stumble out the front door into the outside. He jogs after you, slightly panting, while his eyes dart around the parking lot in search for you.

The rain crashes down on him the moment he steps outside. His head briefly tilts up to face the grey sky with an annoyed groan. The raindrops are pattering against his creased forehead, running down his cheeks to pool at the tip of his beard.

But then he hears a muffled sniffle next to him. Strands of his soaked hair fall into his face when he whirls his head around, spotting you leaned against the wall.

“No- no – it can’t be you – Damn it – it can’t…” you mutter under your rapid breaths, somehow trying to fight your scrunched up, stinging eyes with words of common sense. Your chest feels constricted. Your heart’s hammering in your ears and your breath’s clipped, feeling like you might faint any moment of lack of oxygen.

Leaning back against the wet wall for some support, your mind’s on the brink of a breakdown. There’s no explanation for this. This can’t be happening.

Beau suddenly appears in front of you and before you get to react, he places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch but don’t pull away. His hand feels heavy against your soaked jacket, grounding, gentle – but casual, like you would with a stranger. You are strangers.

“Hey, hey take it easy. You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack. You’ll be okay.” He says as he crouches down to your level. He glances over your trembling body and how your eyes try to avoid his, your expression like you’d just witnessed a murder in slow-motion.

“Look at me, deep breaths.” Beau speaks in a firmer, yet gentle tone, trying to break through your panicked state.

When you refuse to look up, he tilts his head down to meet your eyes behind some soaked stray hair that sticks to your skin. He pushes them out of your face, his intense gaze searching your contorted face for some form of hint for what’s got you so spooked.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. While his soothing words just keep coming, his voice now a lower whisper as he’s desperately trying to understand what is going on in that head of yours, “Hey, c’mon… talk to me, Winchester…”

Your eyes are burning from the tears that have been building up until now. Eyelashes heavy and clumped together by the droplets of the rain. And his intense eyes staring into yours, the very same eyes you fell in love with over 10 years ago, do nothing to ease your pain.

You try to tear your gaze away from his, but find yourself caught in them. It’s like you’re staring into a beautiful forest after years of living in a desert. They pull you in, and you feel like you are right back where you’d always longed to be. Home.

But a home that isn’t yours any more. The soul behind those eyes looks familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. You thought you’d never see those eyes again – but those very same eyes hold no memory of you.

The same question keeps repeating in your head, ripping at your heart and soul like a Hellhound.

Dean… is this you?

His voice cuts through your thoughts like a soft knife. “Take deep breaths darlin’, it’s oka-”

“Please- just-” you cut him short, a painful, shaky breath rippling through your voice, “Just stop talking.” Beau’s voice is like a dagger to your heart, twisting it whenever he speaks up. Mocking your memories with that uncanny tone of his.

I’m just tired. You hear Dean’s voice in your head and just like him, you wished you didn’t feel a damn thing.

Beau raises a brow and tilts his head forward, studying your face. For a moment he opens his mouth about to speak again, but when he sees you flinch, he forces himself to shut it closed.

His jaw’s clenched from fighting the urge to talk and feeling a bit overwhelmed with the entire situation. Not knowing where to go with himself or what to do without making things worse. He isn’t sure what it is, but something about you tugs at his heart in a way he can’t quite understand. But he quickly dismisses it, for now.

His eyes snap up to the sky when the rain starts to increase. Heavy drops splatter off the both of you, coaxing a single tear to let go of the corner of your eye. It was like the sky cried for you. Eyes that parched exactly 5 years ago.

Without a word he moves closer, gently wrapping his free arm around your waist. But you stop him before his palm touches your side. Your hand's shaking as it clings to his wrist like a lifeline.

Beau’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t comment on it. His expression grows pensive and his eyebrows slightly furrow, watching your trembling form. Your chest's heaving heavily, like you’re struggling for air. And your eyes are out of focus, like they're reliving some nightmare.

He suddenly feels a strong protectiveness - decides to hold himself back, though, afraid he might make things worse. But it pains him terribly to see you this way, even if he might not know you, yet.

You don’t say anything. Unable to form the right words as nothing could express the storm of contradicting emotions you are trapped in. The wavering grip on his arm is clenching and unclenching subtly as if unsure whether you want to push him away or pull him in.

“Sorry,” you finally croak between shuddering breaths, unsure what you were even apologizing for, “I’m sorry…”

Why were you apologizing? A strange feeling settles in his guts, one of this being a lot bigger than he could comprehend.

Next moment you know, you’re pulled into a tight hug. Both his arms wrapping around you to pull you close and hold you together.

At first you stiffen. Standing there like a fragile, shaking tree. Your arms pressed against your sides, unable to comprehend any more what is happening.

But he keeps you in his embrace, murmuring soothing words, muffled by your hair and the heavy rain. You lift your head slightly, just enough for your wavering eyes to meet his again.

That’s when the realization hits you. He looks so whole. So unbroken. His skin and his hair was smooth and tender beneath that thin layer of rain. He lacks any form of scar, any edges or any memory of the horrors you and he had faced and committed. Your heart twists; This isn’t what a scarred hunter looks like. And at the same time you feel your heart sink at the next conclusion… Beau would have been Dean’s idea of a perfect life, without ever having been born into the hunting business.

And it makes you wonder whether he was granted that alternate life.

Beau feels your trembling body against him and how your gaze is searching his face for something he doesn't know. Why are you looking at him like that? A lump forms in his throat. His hand gently caresses your back in a circle motion, while his other keeps stroking your hair.

“It’s alright, s’okay. You’re okay.” Beau says in a soothing, comforting tone and he tugs you a little closer, allowing you to rest against him.

Your wet hair falls into your face once more when your head drops to his chest. You both stay still, the only sound being the pitter-patter from the raindrops against the hood of his truck and the puddles around you. Your ragged breath’s nearly drowned out by the rain. The world seems to have shrunk to the beat of his heart softly thudding against your ear.

And that breaks the dam. Tears it down as the floods of emotions search their way out. Your shoulders rise and buckle against his chest. The tears finally break free, streaming down your face, mixing with the rain soaking your clothings. Your body wracked with sobs – raw, desperate, painful. Liberating.

You begin to shake uncontrollably, the sobs growing more and more powerful. They start to rack through every fibre of your body. Your legs grow unsteady beneath you, daring to crumble from the weight of every emotion you had buried in the past 5 years released and unloading all at once.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll stay right here as long as ya need me to. C’mere…” He reassures you, and pulls you even closer. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, his facial hair brushing against your scalp and his warm breath wafting down at you. “Just let it out… you’re gonna be okay… you’re not alone, ‘kay?”

You clutch at his jacket tightly, holding onto him like you’re drowning. Like you’re afraid he might be a dream after all. Might disappear from your grasp at any moment. Everything spills out of you, incoherent words bubbling from your wet lips. “Y-y-you’re alive- you’re alive- a-alive- I missed you so much, Dean- so so much-”

Beau can’t exactly make out the words that are tumbling from your mouth, but he can feel you shaking against him terribly. He quickly takes his big jacket off to drape it over you, to try and keep the rain and cold off you.

His heart tightens at the sight of your curled-up body, clinging to him while shivering badly and breaking apart in his arms. He slowly begins to speak again, a hint of an encouraging smile on his face, “Hey, ‘m gonna pick ya up. Ya ain’t gonna stand that cold and rain. Ya’ll get sick.” He then places his arms on your back and under your thighs, before lifting you up off the ground in one smooth motion.

He holds you close against his chest, wrapping his jacket over you for extra warmth. The rain patters against the concrete floor while his boots splash through the puddles, carrying you over to his truck.

You don’t protest as your body was giving in at this point. Like a run down shed in a storm.

Your fingers slowly going numb from the death grip, the wet and cold. You choke on your sobs while the tears keep rolling down your reddened cheeks.

But from joy.

You don’t know whether he is Dean or not. Whether this is real or you finally lost it.

But in this very moment you didn’t care.

You let yourself drift back to the happiest place in your mind. One you hadn’t dared to visit for many years. Locked up and keys buried along your husband. Deep down in your broken heart.

When you close your eyes and press the side of your face against his chest, you can hear his heart pounding. When he speaks, you hear Dean’s voice above you, soft and peaceful.

And you feel his body through the drenched pieces of clothings between you.

He feels warm. Warm.

A/N: it was meant to be a drabble IT WAS MEANT TO BE A DRABBLE

I'M NOT CRYIN'- OKAY FINE I'm still coping with his death - I haven't even watched it since I'm still catching up with the seasons. GAWD I HTE THIS - I JUST NEEDED CLOSURE DAMN IT

Anyway, I just had to get this story off my chest before next year. I don’t know yet whether it deserves more parts but do let me know if you think so!

Tags:

@aylacavebear ❀ꗥ Want to join my TAG LIST? Fill out this form!

[mostly-marvel-musings]

First ‘I love you’ - Christmas with you

Pairing: Tony Stark x Single Mom! Reader

Warnings: Tony is the cutest man alive guys.

Christmas With You Masterlist

.

It had been a busy few months. In both your lives.

You were preoccupied with your job, and Tony with his missions. Still, you two made sure to keep in touch, even if it was just a five minute phone-call. It managed to make your day no matter how stressful it had been before.

There were a few dates that he snuck in though. One involved a simple ice-cream date, another with your son’s first visit to the Tower, that was more like a day in Disneyland for Noah. The Avengers were the nicest bunch of people you’d met.

There was another time you’d surprised the man with a little picnic in the park, spending the entire day together, laughing and exchanging stories. It was like time was non-existent when you were with Tony Stark. Just the two of you, in your little bubble.

But that was three weeks ago.

Three weeks was a long time to not see someone who had quickly become so important in your life. So important, there wasn’t a passing minute that you didn’t think of him, and he of you.

Aware that he was away on a mission, you kept yourself busy. Noah had gotten used to Tony being around as well, he often asked if he was your best friend, not quite understanding the concept of a boyfriend yet. You had always avoided answering it, not wanting him too involved in case things went south.

It was after Noah’s bedtime when the doorbell rang, just as you were tucking him in, pulling him out of the sleep spell you’d managed to cast. Warily you approached the door, unlocking it only once you confirmed who it was.

Tony Stark.

Face bloodied and bruised. Still in his Iron Man suit looking utterly exhausted. His usual demeanour seemed different and you could sense something was wrong.

“Tony, are you okay?”

His unfocused eyes found yours, a small spark still visible in them as you beckoned him inside. Stepping out of the suit, you rushed forward as Tony stumbled, clutching the hand you offered.

“Uh…yeah.” He muttered, quickly composing himself though you could tell it was difficult.

Wordlessly, you guided him to take a seat on the couch, flashbacks of your first meeting ran through your mind as you grabbed the first-aid kit. He held onto your hand tightly as you cleaned his wounds, your touch grounding him and keeping a potential panic attack at bay.

“You’re home, Tony. You are safe.”

He believed you. For once. He believed in those words.

You kept murmuring as you tended to his wounds, tracing the back of his hand with your thumb while keeping an eye on his movements. He looked calmer, though still a bit distant. You didn’t want to press on the events that would’ve happened, he would tell you eventually.

“Thank you.”

His voice was barely over a whisper, but grateful. Pulling you down in his lap, he wrapped both his arms around you and buried his face in your neck. Inhaling your comforting presence that wiped the day’s stress away, one breath at a time. He was home.

You rubbed his back soothingly, letting your fingers card through his slightly sweaty hair. Unbeknownst to you, Noah had carried himself halfway down the stairs to witness the scene unfold, as if still unsure about what to say.

“I need a shower, can I um..do you mind?” Tony murmured after placing a soft kiss against your lips, his grip loosened but still firm around your middle.

“If you think I’m letting you go back out now, you’re mistaken, Mr. Stark. You’re staying over.” You chuckled before standing back up, noticing your son leaning against the banister with his stuffed toy.

“What are you doing up, Noah Y/L/N?”

“Came to see, Mr. Stark?” He replied meekly, looking between the two of you in hope that he wasn’t in trouble for getting out of bed.

“What a coincidence, I came to see you too, kid.” Tony stood up and approached your son, grabbing his hand before throwing you a wink over his shoulder.

Post shower, you found Tony lying in bed with Noah, the sight warming your heart instantly as you stood by his door.

“And then?” Your son asked, sleep clearly the last thing on his mind as he listened wide-eyed to the story Tony was so animatedly narrating.

“And then, we swooshed in the building and chased the bad guys until they fell to our feet and cried!” Tony chuckled as your son cheered and clapped his hands, snuggling closer to him.

“And then?”

“Well then I came here to see my two favourite people on the planet.” He smiled looking up at you, gesturing you to come and join them.

“Did Mama kiss your boo-boos like she does to me?” Noah’s question made a cheshire cat grin appear on Tony’s face and a warm blush appear on yours. You swore this little boy was wise beyond his age, and sharp.

“Bedtime, little man. Come on.” You tried with your sternest voice, unable to hide the grin that threatened to escape as Tony smirked.

“One more story? Please?” He pleaded, opening his blanket for you to join in. His bed wasn’t massive, but it was big enough to squash the three of you together in a cuddle pile.

“Fine. Just one. And I want your eyes closed, mister.”

Giving in, you got under the blankets and laid down, aware of Tony’s gaze on you. Noah made a request for his favourite story which you began reading in a soft voice. Tony felt his own eyelids start to droop listening to your soothing voice but he fought the urge to focus on your calm presence.

He’d realised how important you had become to him in the span of few months. He had been dying to say those three words for a few days now, though in his heart he’d already said it to you a thousand times without actually saying it.

Sure enough, midway through the story, your three year old fell asleep, hugging his toy close to his chest as his little chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern. Kissing his forehead, you adjusted the blankets and pillows around him before taking Tony’s hand and leading him downstairs for a drink.

��Something on your mind, Tony? You’ve been quiet.” You asked as you poured some wine in two glasses, offering him one as he leaned against your kitchen counter.

“Uh..you didn’t kiss my boo-boos.” Tony smirked, pointing to the little bruises that littered his face, a larger more nasty one against his temple.

Shaking your head, you stood between his legs and began kissing over them, carefully avoiding the ones that hurt. He hummed in satisfaction, grinning lazily before planting his face against your shoulder.

“Do you want me to tuck you in and need a bedtime story too?”

“I love you.”

What? What had just happened? You thought you’d misheard it. Sure he hadn’t said what you thought he said, had he?

“I love you, Y/N.” Tony repeated, this time facing you fully, his big brown eyes you loved so much held nothing but truth.

“I wanted to say it for a long time now, but I wasn’t sure if you felt it too. But for me, you’re the one. You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to—”

You placed a finger on his lips to stop his rambling, placing a small kiss to his nose, then his forehead. Gosh, it felt like you could kiss this man forever.

“I love you too, Tony.”

“Oh thank God!” He let out a breath he had been holding, making you laugh as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in a hug you both never wanted to let go from.

Surely, he was home.

[the-faceless-bride]

No. Not again. Not you.

Yandere Cooper Howard/The Ghoul × Vaultie!R

Summary: The Ghoul of the wasteland had accepted the man he once was is dead. He isn't caring. Isn't loving. Isn't feeling. Friendship, companionship, partnership... love? Wasn't for him. Not anymore. But all that comes crashing down when he meets you... you brought something back from the dead.. though it isn't as 'good' as it used to be...

Warnings: yandere content, Cooper being controlling, Canon violence, death (not reader or Cooper), violence towards reader (by both strangers and a litte Cooper), flashbacks, and forced kissing.

You stumble around behind Cooper talking about the town you were about to come up apon, you were happy to babble away to him, and though he wouldn't always answer, he would always listen.

You liked traveling around, especially with Cooper; you were in a vault all your life, not by choice. But to be out of it was an amazing feeling, even if in the start Cooper didn't take your optimistic outlooks to kindly.

You remember how dumb he thought you were...

You'd just escaped your vault. And you were so confused...

You remember 'yesterday' you were baking a pie waiting for your husband to come home, when you heard a big bang, your husband rushed in took you. And you just passed out... you had always told him you didn't trust vault-tech or the people who were a part of it. But he didn't care, he was desperate.

When you woke up, the Vault was empty... quiet... bloodied... you stumbled around, trying to find something, someone... anyone... when you heard a whistle,

"Pphheeeww- looks like I've got a live one," a voice called out; turning around meeting the face of the goul... it shocked you at first your face contorting, but it wasn't so much fear as it was confusion... who is that? Had the war started? How long has it been? "If I were you I'd hope my pretty ass back into that ice block and let the world rot away,"

God, you remember him putting you through hell and back; no water or food, hot unforgiving sun, the fighting, crying, begging, and eventual acceptance.

"You think the people here will be friendly?" You babble as you reach for the canteen on his side; he let's you take it, moving his coat to the side for an easier reach. "Friendly?-" he laughs like you've told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard, "when is anyone out here friendly? What did it teach you? You need a reminder?" He smirks, turning to look at you, "Oh no thanks!" You yipp as you take a swig of water.

You and Cooper walk into the town, eyes all around you. Some curious, some cautious, other dangerous... most eyes not on you, but Cooper. The Ghoul. Most people would never know you were a Vault dweller, you'd exchanged the blue and yellow suit in for a teal top and brown loose pants and some boots, Cooper made sure to tell you that if you kept that look somebody would've tried to sell you. You got lucky to be with him.

You didn't want to run off, You'd learned your lesson before; but you were hungry, and you saw what looks to be a place for food and bar. But you didn't want to just run off, especially if it could be dangerous... you wouldn't want Cooper to get in a brawl again.

"What do you think Cooper?" You whisper to him, only for him to hear, you whisper his name.

You liked saying his name. You didn't say it often, but when you did, it always felt good; even if it was a little strange. You still remember the first time he'd told you his name.

You'd woken up to russeling sounds when you spotted the small group trying to steal your supplies. And you yelled "Ghoul!"

You yelled as loud as you could, and He woke up, the Group of four masked raiders all attacked. And you sat there like a complete idiot while he took on all four men while little to no effort.

And even if you hadn't actually fought, you'd felt like you were on the edge of a panic attack, what if something happens to him? You'd be alone. What would happen to you? Would you be killed? Sold? Forced to-

*BANG*

The last gunshot that rang out, the last body falling ti the floor before he walks over and kneels down to your stance where you sat on the ground. "I'm- I'm sorry Ghoul, I just- I saw them I panicked it was like I couldn't even move- I'm sorry Ghoul, I just-" -- "Cooper." -- "what?" -- "My name. It's Cooper."

"Cooper." You smiled.

He didn't smile back, but you could see his eyes change. He didn't look so angry when he looked at you.

He nodded his head and handing a handfull of caps to you, a silent 'okay' for you to break away from him. At least for a little while.

You'd sat in a stool up at the bar eating the first hot meal in God knows how long, and sipping on a sweet drink that was a bit too strong for you, "what's a cutie like you doing here alone?" You heard a man call to you. He wasn't much, scruffy, scrawny, but had very pretty eyes.

"I'm not alone,'you say confidently with a sweet smile, one you're sure he's never seen before.

He takes the stool next to you and tries to have a conversation with you. But quickly gets irritated when you don't play along. And that's when he became ugly...

Yelling, cursing, name calling, everything under the sun wa seeing tossed at you because you told this strange man, "No." You hadn't taken his as anything serious, all bark no bite. Throwing a hissy fit because you wouldn't let him fuck you for a few caps.

And it wasn't until you felt a sting on your left cheek and your head snapped to the side when you realized. He had struck you. Before he grabbed you, pulling you to him, kissing and grabbing at you. The other bar goers had found this... funny. At least until a loud bang was heard and the mans brains splattered all over your face and bar.

"Now who the hell do you think you are to mess with another man's woman?"

"Cooper?"

A rope found its way tosses around you as Cooper shoved you down and into a corner, "don't fucking move."

You were on the road again, Cooper muttering curses under his breath. Still at the man who'd dared lay a hand on your sweet skin, damning him and all his friends who laughed.

No matter how hard you tried you haven't been able to get to him. He just mutters over and over. He could've lost you.

That man would've done much worse that just kiss and grab you had he not been there.

Much worse. You would've been killed by the end of it.

"I won't lose you. I won't. Not again."

"Cooper." You tried to move around him to get infront of him, but a harsh grasp hand you in place. "Ouch! Cooper that hurt."

"Where do you think you're going?" -- "No where! I'm just worried about you!"

"I won't lose you. Not again."

"Wha-"

You didn't have time to talk, Cooper kissed you.

"Humph!" Your shock is muffled. You try to pull away.

He doesn't let go...

[tvgremlin]

Initial S4 thoughts

- Seeing Sydcarmy communication in the trailer is HUGE. She’s calling him out explicitly about the state of the restaurant, which feels like a return to form. This gives me hope…

- Carmy’s voiceover about making it good also gives me hope. Idk guys, maybe he will get out of his own way and save the restaurant by actually working with his amazing staff during their remaining time together, which will in turn give them more time.

- you can’t tell for a second that this is the final season, we would know for sure by now.

- FAK GET OFF MY SCREEN AND CRAWL BACK INTO THE HOLE YOU CAME FROM RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!! WHY!!!

- Gary!!! 😭

- The Ever staff at the Bear was the twist we all saw coming but all love- welcome to the family guys, HELP!

- The mixed bag review is so good… fuck yes. My theory right now is that the review is the premier as well as Jimmy talking to them. Trailers hardly ever show us anything from later eps.

- that being said I think Carmy’s voiceover about cooking and making it good will be a flashback of him and Mikey.

- Nat and her baby fuck me up. We should take bets on what her name will be - or give whatever fanfic author guessed correctly a medal

- Tiffs wedding!! 😭 my family, happy, dancing- YES!!

- “hi, Bear” Jeremey has the Emmy on lock with that face acting… oh my god. I can feel the Angsty fic we’ll be getting already.

- “I don’t want you to hide from things” with a shot of the walk in… this better be a Richie apology and dealing with his chef PTSD arc, and not a getting back with Claire arc.

- Syd and Donna… let’s see if this gets her to stay at the restaurant.

- the individual shots of everybody has me in my feels- it’s very S2 of them in all the right ways. Can’t wait to have my family back.

- I have hope for a Sheridan Road ep

- No Claire of Luca so far… thank god.

- Finally- Carmy RUNNING to get something as Tina talks about him trying to prove stuff. Okay, so here’s the deal- I’m of two mind with this. My smart, grounded in reality mind says he’s running to Claire, but my delusional, believes in miracles and that we live in a just world, says he’s running to Sydney. Him running to Sydney feels right to me, as with Claire it’s all about proving to be something he’s not, and with Syd it’s about being who he is. She grounds him and Claire stresses him tf out (panic attack scene! If they don’t go canon than what was that all for 😭)

My delusional wishes after seeing this trailer are..

- Uncle Carmy

- Fak falls into a vat of goo, never to be heard from again

- Carmy has a panic attack at the wedding and Syd is there for him

- Dramatic ass Claire/Carmy fight where she calls him out for being in love with Syd (guys… guys we might get this)

- Canon Sydcarmy at Tiffs wedding or sooner

- he’s running TO HER and they play blowing kisses over it and he tells her she’s all he wants, no matter where she goes

[hysteria-things]

can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??

UNEXPECTED TURNS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!

was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO

i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)

*flashback*

‘pregnant’

you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.

a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.

you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.

“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.

you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.

he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.

chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”

you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.

he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.

he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”

he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.

his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.

you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.

*9 months later*

tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.

“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.

“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”

holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.

despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.

*now*

chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.

he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.

she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.

“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”

that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”

you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.

ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.

chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.

he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”

her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.

when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.

he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”

chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.

he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.

this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.

and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 29 - Signs Of Life

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 10.6k words. It's time to move on, even if that means leaving people behind.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (distressing), medical procedures, medical inaccuracies, hurt/ comfort, angst, mentions of PTSD, panic attacks, mental health, flashback.

Previous - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

The sun coming through the window is warm, the curtains are open and you can feel the hot rays on your face. It's the first time you’ve seen the sun so bright and hot in the sky. There isn’t a cloud in sight, you see birds flying around. You want to get up, crack open the window and let the scent of nature fill the stuffy room. 

The thought is pushed out of you mind as you turn to see John coming back out the bathroom, he gets back into the bed and wraps his arms around you. You turn and press your face on his chest breathing in his scent. You close your eyes letting it ground you. 

You’re being clingy. You just want some time alone with John but he insists on you getting checked out by Piper. You don’t let him go though, wrapping your arms and legs around him like if you let him go he will disappear. You’re almost falling asleep when you hear the door open. 

You don’t move letting out a sigh as the smell of beta starts to fill the room. There are more than one set of steps though. You really don’t care, you want to stay under the covers in John’s warm arms. You shiver against his chest feeling a cold breeze come into the room before the door is closed again. 

John shushes you kissing you on the top of the head before you feel a hand land on your shoulder. 

“Hey hun, how are you feeling?” Piper asks. 

“Tired.” You say without moving.  

“I know. How about we get these tubes out of you. Then you will feel better.” You whine nuzzling your head into John's neck. You just want to be left alone with him. Although now you’re suddenly aware of how uncomfortable you feel. There’s a tube in your nose and you can feel something between your legs. 

“Then you can go back to sleep.” Piper says rubbing your shoulder. John moves his hands to your shoulders gently pushing you away from him a little. 

“It’s alright, I'm not going anywhere.” He says, you reluctantly turn and sit up in the bed, the other person in the room is Kyle. He’s stood behind Piper smiling, you smile back. You feel stiff, your hand comes up to rub your neck as Piper sits down on the bed beside you. 

She moves slowly, her eyes flicking over to John whose arms are still wrapped around you keeping you warm. You let yourself lean back against his chest as she starts to pull tape off your nose. 

“How long was I out?” You ask. 

“6 days.” Piper says.

“It’s been another day?” John asks, he sounds confused. Now you’re confused. 

“It’s okay, it’s good you spent time with her, you both needed it.” Piper says, you hate this feeling. Your whole body feels weak, you try to remember what happened last time you were in distress. All you can remember is the heat afterwards. You lost almost two weeks of your life and it took you so long to recover. 

“I’m going to pull it out now.” Piper says pressing a tissue up under your nose. “It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable.” You nod, John’s hand’s squeeze your arms, her eyes flick to him quickly before letting out a sigh.

She’s right it is uncomfortable making your eyes water, she keeps whispering to you telling you it will be over soon. Suddenly there’s a tickle in your throat and you cough and gag. John’s hand flys up to grip Piper's wrist. She stops, you can smell John’s alpha in the air. 

“Easy John. I’m not trying to hurt her.” Piper says, you can feel the tension in the room, his other hand gripping your arm almost painfully. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and Piper seems to realise the panicked look on your face and she smiles at you.  

“John, it’s okay.” Your eyes flick up to Kyle, who sits down and his hand rests on John's leg. John releases the grip on Piper's wrist and she continues to pull the tube out your nose. 

“Nice and easy, there you go.” Piper says as you cough and splutter. John’s arms wrap around you tighter. She wipes your nose and mouth with the tissue before standing up. 

“Come on, I’ll take the catheter out in the bathroom.” She says, stepping back. You nod, swinging your legs out the bed. John’s hands stay on you for as long as possible. He whines as you get out of bed and it breaks your heart. He grabs your hand and you squeeze his back. You dig your heels into the ground and Piper stops to look at you, you don’t want to leave him.

“It’s okay, it won’t take long.” She reaches up to stroke your arm. You swallow the lump in your throat, looking down at John’s sad eyes. You look over at Kyle, his hand still on John’s leg.

“What's going on?” Kyle asks. 

“She was in distress, it’s the most vulnerable state for an omega. John and Simon will be protective of her for the next few hours and she’ll be more clingy. It’s normal.” You turn to look at Piper letting your hand slip from John’s grip. 

“It won’t take long. As soon as we’re done you can go back to him.” She says. You nod and she drops her hand from your arm going into the bathroom. She closes the door, leaving it open a crack before leading you over to the toilet. 

“This might sting.” She says. You nod slightly before letting her pull your bottoms and underwear down to your ankles. 

“When she was in distress last. She didn’t have an alpha or a pack by her side. How did it work?” Kyle shouts from the other side of the door. When you look down and see the tube between your legs you almost want to call him in even just to hold your hand. Then you remember John, if you call Kyle for help he could get worried. 

“It didn’t, she had to go through it alone.” Piper says, flicking a look back up at you. 

“Ready?” She whispers. You nod, she looks back down between your legs. You clench your teeth, gripping the toilet seat. It burns as she pulls the tube out, you’ve been through this before. The tubes up your nose, between your legs, at least this is the first time in what feels like a long time. At least you have a pack around you, you’re not going to be thrown into a dark damp room with a hose and left alone for hours.

“All done.” She says rubbing your thigh. You nod suddenly feeling like you need to pee, you feel embarrassed raising an eyebrow. She smiles getting up to leave the room. You sit there looking over at the sink, you can see John’s razor kit open on the side. He does look like he had a good tidy up while you were in distress. 

When you leave the room his eyes are instantly on you. You smile pushing past Piper and going over to him, he pulls the duvet back scooting so you have room to lay up against him. You hum as he pulls you against his chest.

Piper's hand rubs your shoulder as you let out a long breath relaxing into John's arms, closing your eyes. Piper's hand moves and you feel the duvet pulled over you.

“Things might feel weird for the next few days.” Piper says. “We’ll keep a close eye on you both. Get some rest.” 

“Easier said than done.” you hear Kyle say. Suddenly you feel sadness, you feel tears come before you can stop them. You try to mask your scent, you don’t want to have John worrying. It doesn’t work though and he tightens his grip on you. 

“Let’s leave them.” You hear Piper say. 

“Call us if you need anything.” Kyle asks. John doesn’t respond, you just hear the door close behind them. You let out a choked sob, you can’t help it. John moves you so he can see your face, his thumb comes to stroke your cheek. 

“I know, it’s going to be okay though.” He says. 

“No, it’s not. Professor Hale is alive, he tried to kill Piper.” You sniffle, you can’t stop the tears now. “What if he tries to hurt you?” 

“We’re going to stop him before he gets a chance.” John says.

“How?” You ask, you feel like you already know the answer but you don’t want to hear it. You know they’re going to go after him, which means they’ll be leaving you. Maybe you’ll be wrong and maybe they’ll take you back up to Scotland and hide with you for the rest of your life. 

“We’re going to kill him.” 

…

You and John both sleep in each other's arms for the next few hours. You wake to every movement, every noise from John other than his breathing and gentle snoring. He’s the same though, reacting to every twitch or murmur out of you. You hear him shushing you or kissing you, it’s quick, only a few seconds at a time before you snuggle back into his warm embrace. When you wake properly for the first time it's Simon bringing in some water. 

“Hey,” you whisper, you can hear John gently snoring behind you. Simon wouldn’t have woken him up, he’s quiet on his feet and he never smells of anything. He bends down by your head, his hand comes up to stroke your face. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asks quietly. You smile at him, it’s the first time in a long time you feel like you’ve seen his face. You reach out to touch him, you can see the bags under his eyes, you can feel the stubble under your fingers. His hand comes up to grip your hand bringing your palm to his mouth kissing it. 

“I’m okay.” His thumb is stroking your cheek. You’re already shuffling in the bed causing John to wake but you don’t care. You press your hips against him forcing him to move and make room for Simon to climb in. 

Simon gets the hint, you don’t need to ask him. He stands back up, kicking his boots off and pulling his shirt off over his head. The room is dark and you look up at the window behind you, there's no light coming in but you don’t know what time it is. As Simon gets into the bed you see a mark on his neck, as he lays down your fingers go up to touch it. It looks like a bite mark.

“What happened?” You ask, he sighs, laying down and wrapping one of his arms around you. It causes John to wake this time, you watch as a hand comes over and feels around Simon’s head. 

“Simon?” John asks, his voice still filled with sleep. 

“Yeah.” Simon replies, you can smell his scent in the air now. You drop your hand from the mark on his neck and shuffle closer to him as he reaches round and pulls John closer to you. Their arms wrap around you, you feel John kiss the back of your head as he relaxes back into the pillows. 

“What happened?” You ask again. He sighs and his hand comes up to stroke your face.

“You took a chunk out me. It’s okay though, it's only fair.” Simon says his fingers brush over his mark. 

“I'm so sorry.” You say reaching up to touch his face, you feel the familiar warmth under your fingers. The prick of stubble, each scar. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad you're safe, alive. For a while I-we thought we might lose you.” He says, you smile and reach up to kiss him. It's long and slow, you both take your time exploring each other's mouths. 

Simon's hands run over your body, his tongue pressing deeper and deeper into your mouth. You never want it to end, you want to just lay here between your alphas and try to forget about what's going on in the world. Forget about Hale, Shadow Company, you and Piper being injured. Piper finding a cure. 

The rush of thoughts makes you break from the kiss. In typical fashion he can immediately tell something is up. “What is it?” He asks pulling you closer to him. You shake your head pressing it into his chest.

“Got alot on my mind.” You admit. He sighs, you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, his lungs filling with air. He kisses the top of your head and you move to look up at him. 

“I know, but you should rest.” He says. 

“Don’t leave.” You say, you’re begging, you don’t want him to leave, not now, not ever. 

“I’m staying, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Good.” You hear John say behind you. It makes you smile and they both rearrange themselves so you’re laid back against John's chest and Simon is cuddling up against you both. His arm reaches round to stroke John’s arm. You relax, closing your eyes. You can hear their breathing, their scent fills the room relaxing you as they press up against you keeping you warm. 

Maybe this is how it should be, laying between your alpha’s safe and warm. Maybe this is what a pack should be like, you wish Johnny and Kyle were here, laying behind John and Simon, or maybe at the end of the bed in eachothers arms. But not so far away that you can’t sense them, reach down with your foot and feel them, or reach over to stroke their arms.

You want to be close to them forever, be by their side through thick and thin. They don’t need to kill Hale to do that, they just need to keep loving you.  

The next day you’re feeling better and convince John to let you at least go down for some breakfast. It still feels freezing and you end up pulling one of John’s many jackets. When you make it out of the room you can see the building lit up in shades of orange as the sun has just started to rise above the trees. 

You don’t really feel hungry, walking down into the main lobby the whole place feels like you’re walking through a crime scene. You decide to go find Piper instead. You want to see her, hug her, let her know you’re okay. When you get into the lab you only see Fleur, the place looks darker since the window is still partially boarded up. 

It feels strange, less welcoming then it has ever felt, it’s the first time you’ve been back here since you ran. You remember running, you remember the forest, then things start to get fuzzy. You remember something, or was it someone? 

“Hey! How are you feeling?” Fleur calls, coming towards you, she makes you jump.

“I’m okay. How are you?” You ask, looking round the room, maybe Piper’s not up yet. 

“Good.” She says. “Better now you and Piper are out of the woods, it was scary for a while.” 

“Sorry.” You say, it’s automatic.

“No, no, don't be silly.” She says coming over to you and squeezing your arm. “Not your fault, there was nothing you could have done. Besides, what matters now is you’re both safe.” 

“Where is Piper?” You ask, she drops her hand from you. 

"In her office." She says still smiling. You nod and turn heading down to the room. The door to the medical room is open, the place smells of blood and disinfectant. You ignore it stopping at the office door.

“Piper?” You call as you knock on her frosted glass door. There’s no response, you try not to panic.

“Piper?” You call again, this feels too familiar to when you were calling through the door for Fleur. You open the door walking in. At first you don’t see anything but you can hear something, smell something. 

Panting and the smell of something rusty in the air. You walk round the desk and see Piper curled up on the floor with her hands pressed over her ears and her legs pulled up to her chest. You slowly walk over to her, her eyes open wide, flicking around the room. 

“Piper.” You say bending down and reaching over, pressing your hand on her knee. Her body jolts and she sits up. Your hand drops from her leg and you jump back falling on the floor. You can see her panic, you can smell it in the air, her head is frantically looking around. 

“It’s okay. It’s me Piper.” You say trying to keep your voice level. She looks directly at you sitting up, her breaths are short, one of her hands presses on her chest. “Are you okay?” You’re trying to keep her calm, you’re trying to do anything to get her to come back to you. 

“Yes.” She says breathlessly. You sit there on the floor with her until she calms. You’re not sure what to do but you wait, watching her patiently. You watch as she comes back, looking up at you and frowns. It only takes a few seconds before she realises what's happened and she uses her desk to get herself to her feet. You follow her standing up but keeping your distance. You stand up walking back to the edge of her desk waiting for her to talk. 

“Sorry, I-” She coughs, turning to her desk flicking through the papers. “I must have slipped.” 

You can’t help letting out a chuckle, her head snaps up to you. You walk round to the other side of the desk, her eyes follow you. She lets out a shaky breath. You can see how unsteady she is on her feet, her hands are shaking, she looks spaced out. 

“How about a cup of tea?” You ask, you expect her to say no, maybe she wants to be left alone. But that's what Kyle always asks when you’re feeling down. She looks up at you and a little smile forms on her face. She nods and you smile watching as she pulls her sleeves back down. You turn to leave the room hoping she’s following behind you. 

…

“I’m sorry, Kyle is better at making tea than me.” You say putting the mug down in front of her. She wraps her shaking hand around it and pulls it towards her. You’ve never seen her like this before, she’s always so put together. Stoic and calm, angry when she needs to be although you’ve only ever seen her snap at other people, never at you. 

“Does John know?” You ask, you’re not sure what to say. You want to comfort her but you don’t even know how to do that. 

“Yeah.” She says bringing the mug up to her mouth. You know she would prefer a coffee but you have no idea how to use the fancy machine she uses. She doesn’t complain though. 

“Do you ever get nightmares?” You blurt out, she freezes for a second before putting the mug down. 

“I do, sometimes. It’s been happening more and more recently.” She says, hanging her head. You can smell guilt, she has nothing to feel guilty about. Maybe it’s because she didn’t tell you. 

“I have nightmares too.” You say. She smiles and nods. “What was that thing? The thing you said it was called?”

“PTSD?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, you nod and smile back.

“You know one of the things you need to do to treat that is talk.” She says, your smile fades at the thought of talking about the bunker. You grip your own mug letting it warm your hands. 

“I-” You choke on the word, suddenly you’re not sure if you should tell her or not. “I’ve been hearing Hale. In my head.” 

She doesn’t look shocked or confused, she doesn’t look like anything other than maybe curious.

“What kind of things have you heard?” She asks. You squeeze your hands around the mug, it’s hot, it hurts but you don’t care. 

“He’s always angry.” You say looking down in the mug and letting the steam fill your nose. “Telling me I’m not a good omega.” 

“What makes you think you’re not a good omega?” She asks, you look up at her but you’re not sure what to say. 

“People around me are always getting hurt. I’m not good at keeping the pack bonds strong.” You say sipping your tea. 

“It’s not your fault people got hurt. It’s Hale’s fault, and as for your pack, they all love you. They’re willing to risk their lives for you.” 

“I don’t want them to risk their lives for me. I just want them to be happy.” You say. 

“I know but the point is you have a very strong pack around you.” She says. 

“I’m worried they’re going to go after Hale and he’ll hurt them, or kill them.” You say squeezing the mug. 

“They’re soldiers. They know what they’re doing, if anything that should be the part you’re the least worried about. Hale needs to die, he’s out there hurting people, hurting you.” She says moving chairs to sit next to you. She reaches out to rest one of her hands on yours. 

“I don’t care if he dies or not. I just want them to be safe.” You say hanging your head trying not to let yourself get upset. You’re still so emotional, you cried when John left you to go to the toilet. When Johnny came in to see you and kissed you on your forehead. 

Piper squeezes your hand again and you take it off the mug letting her hold it. “I love them. I won’t be able to live with myself if they get hurt.” You say looking up at her.

“I think you need to talk.” She says, you raise an eyebrow. “It doesn’t have to be to me but I think it would really help you.” 

“I don’t know.” You say, you’re not sure you want to relive those horrible memories. 

“It’ll be hard but it’s how you move past the trauma you’ve got.” She says squeezing your hand again. 

“I don’t mind talking to you about it. You were there too, maybe it will help us both.” You say, she smiles. You both sit there in silence for a few more minutes sipping on your tea. Her hands have stopped shaking at least. 

“What do you have nightmares about?” You ask, you don’t expect her to tell you but she looks over at you and lets out a sigh. 

“I dream about you. Trying to save you over and over again. Sometimes I dream about the horrible things we did.” 

You both look over at the door when you hear it open. It’s Simon who walks through coming over to you both and rests his hand on your shoulder. 

“I thought you were spending the day with Kyle?” He asks.

“I am but I needed to speak to Piper.” You say sipping your tea to hide the little white lie. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. You nod and look up at him. He’s still wearing his mask, there are still random soldiers walking around. You really don’t want to be around strangers, each person you see makes you more and more nervous. 

“Yeah, everything's fine.” Piper says. You look back at her and she nods for you to go with Simon. You want to stay but you know Simon will feel better if he knows you’re with Kyle. You smile at her and get up leaving your tea half drunk. 

You wish you knew if he was smiling or not, you’re still not sure you can tell though. You walk over to him and wrap your arm around his waist. 

“I think he’s in the living room.” You say smiling. He hums pulling you closer to him. He takes his time walking slowly, keeping his hands on you for as long as he can until you make it to the living room door. He stops and you turn to look up at him, his hand comes up to stroke your cheek. He has gloves on too, it all just feels so wrong, you want to touch him. 

He drops his hand and lets out a sigh. It's almost like he doesn’t want to leave, you’re not sure what to say. 

“Stay with Kyle okay?” You nod smiling at him. He reaches over and opens the door, you look in the room and see Kyle on the sofa watching TV. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your back as you walk in. You can already smell his alpha fading and the smell of beta filling your nose. 

Kyle looks excited to see you and you immediately go over to him snuggling up on the sofa next to him. He wraps his arms around you. You like the thought about talking with Piper, maybe she’s right and it will help, if anything maybe you can heal together. 

The next day John says he’s planning a big meeting with everyone. You spend the day with Johnny, Simon is usually out at the main base but him and John have been in John’s office for most of the day. You have no idea what it’s about and that makes you nervous. You sit between Johnny and Kyle as you wait for John and Simon to come into the room. 

“What do you think he’s going to say?” You ask. Johnny’s hand comes down to stroke your thigh. 

“We’ll see.” Johnny smiles, you can smell his scent trying to calm you, you lean up against him and his hand comes from your thigh to round your back. The door opens again and everyone looks over but it’s not Simon and John it’s Piper, Feur and Kate. Piper has a stack of paper in her arms, Fleur smiles at you and comes over to sit next to Kyle. 

You listen to her make small talk with him, maybe she likes him? She said she likes him, he’s definitely the easiest to talk to. You feel strangely possessive all of a sudden reaching out to stroke his arm. He turns to look at you and smiles, picking up your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. 

The next time the door opens John and Simon walk in, you sit up straight and Johnny’s hand lands back on your thigh. You feel nervous all of a sudden like he’s about to reveal some horrible news, your leg starts to bounce under the table and Kyle squeezes your hand. 

He places a folder on the table and pushes it over to Piper. “You’re going to a new facility. The address is in there no one other than a few people know where it is.”

“Including you?” Piper asks picking the folder. He nods, crossing his arms, you look over at Piper as she opens the folder. 

“Does that mean she’s leaving?” You ask looking up at John. 

“Fleur too.” He nods. You feel sad, you might not see her again, and why is she only moving and not all of you. 

“Where is she going?” You ask, Johnny squeezes your thigh, it’s not as reassuring as you want it to be. 

“Somewhere safe.” John says. You want to press him more but you have a feeling you’re not going to get a satisfying answer so you leave it leaning back in the chair. 

“We’re going to go back to scotland.” As soon as the words leave John’s mouth you’re smiling. He smiles back at you. “I thought you might like that.” 

“When are we going?” You ask excitedly sitting up in your chair. 

“Couple of days. We still have a few things to wrap up here.” John says. “Piper and Fleur will be leaving tomorrow though.” That makes your stomach sink and wipes the smile off your face. You’re going to miss Piper, and now you’re bonded with her it’s going to be harder to be away from her.

“I’ll need a few things before we go.” She says looking up from the folder. 

“Just write a list.” John says, she nods and looks over at you.

“What about the cure?” Johnny asks. 

“Piper and Fleur will keep working on it until it's safe.” John says, you sigh looking over at Simon standing behind John. He’s been wearing his mask while there are other soldiers around. You miss him, you miss seeing him. You hate that he hides his face, his scent, you wish he wouldn't hide around you. 

“-We’ll be leaving in the next few days. I have a meeting with Major Williams later.” 

“Fuckin’ useless MI5.” Johnny whispers shuffling in his seat.

“Speak up MacTavish.” Simon says, stepping up from the wall. 

“We should all take responsibility for our actions.” Johnny says. He removes his hand from your thigh. There's a new scent, something strong and overwhelming. 

Simon steps forward and John puts his hand up to stop him. 

“He’s right. I let you all down again. More importantly I let 2 people get hurt on my watch.” He unfolds his arms, stepping forward. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Johnny leans back in the chair, Kyle squeezes your other leg. You want Johnny’s warm reassuring hand back on you again but you can feel tension in the room. 

You look up at John, it’s not all his fault. He’d been so busy before everything happened, before you got shot and Piper almost died. You hated he had to spend so much time away but now all you can think about is how much of his time you actually took. Maybe if he was working more he would have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 

Then there was you slipping the sleeping pill in his drink. Kate showed up and asked him why he was ignoring her messages. If he hadn't been sleeping maybe he would have seen them. Maybe he could have stopped all of this from happening in the first place but he never had a chance.  

You get up, no one moves but everyone's eyes are on you. Your chair scrapes back and you walk around the table with your head hung. You did this, you caused this. You stop when you make it up to John, you look up at him, his eyes are scrunched together he looks confused. You hesitate, what if he hates you? What if he never trusts you again? You let him down, you let the pack down. 

“I put a sleeping pill in your drink, so I could give blood to Fleur.” His expression changes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Maybe if you knew Kate was coming you could have had time. You could have done something to stop me and Piper getting hurt.” He lets out a sigh, his hand lands on your shoulder. 

“I knew about the pill.” He says, it surprises you and you don’t know what to say. You look back at Piper feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. She shrugs. 

“Nothing you did caused what happened. I ignored Kate's messages, I let my guard down.” He sighs, gripping your shoulders and bending down so he meets your eyeline.

“Do you know how many people had to make mistakes before you’re even partially to blame?” He asks, you shake your head. 

“Eight. Eight people, not including the other soldiers running around here.” You don’t know why that makes you feel better. He smiles and you smile back at him. His hands leave your shoulders and run down your arms as he stands up straight looking past you over at the tables. 

“I want you to take it easy. In a few days we’ll be going back to Scotland, until then just rest.”  You hear steps up behind you and John's hands are replaced with Kyle’s hands. You smile at him and nod, no one else in the room moves as Kyle leads you out the dining room and into the living room. 

…

You spend the rest of the morning with Kyle, eventually you ask him to let you go for a shower. He lets you go and you go to John’s en-suite. You take a long hot shower letting your mind go blank as you, for the first time in days you feel relaxed like the tension is being washed out your body.

When you change and head back downstairs you're stopped seeing Johnny and Kyle sitting halfway on the steps looking through the banister down towards the ground floor.

“What's going on?” You ask sitting next to Johnny on the steps. He turns to you smiling. 

“You can’t hear that?” He says. You frown trying to listen to whatever he’s talking about. They’re both looking down at John’s office. You all sit in silence for a few seconds then you hear it, there’s shouting coming from the office. It’s quiet enough from the stairs that even with your heightened hearing it’s only barely audible. 

“10 he kicks LT out in the next 5 minutes.” Johnny says. 

“He’s not been in there for long.” Kyle tuts. 

“15 he comes out right-” Johnny pauses “-now.” You all look at the door and nothing happens. 

“He’s not that mad.” Kyle sighs. 

“He sounds mad.” You say. “Who's in there?” 

“Williams, the Major from Scotland.” Kyle says. 

“Price is not happy with how lax the security is.” Johnny says, he turns to you and you smile at him even though the sound of John’s voice rising is making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. The door suddenly opens and Simon steps out the door. 

“Shit.” Johnny says tensing up suddenly. You feel your stomach jump.

“What happens if Simon leaves?” You ask even though you’re not sure you want the answer. 

“Ooo lass you don’t want to know.” Johnny says getting up on his feet. “I’ll go make myself useful.” You watch as Johnny hops down the steps and you scoot down a step to sit next to Kyle. Simon hears Johnny coming, Johnny jumps over the reception desk to stand next to Simon. 

“What do you want, MacTavish?” You hear Simon say as Johnny wraps his arm around Simon’s waist. It makes you jealous. You shouldn’t be jealous. 

“How’s it going with Price?” Johnny asks. 

“I’d say it’s going pretty well.” Simon says, there’s the sound of something hard being thrown that makes you jump.

“Hum. How’s it going with your little project?” Johnny asks. Simon looks over at the steps to see you and Kyle. His eyes look dark, it makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. 

“Well.” 

“Well enough that we’re getting answers?” Johnny asks, leaning in and lowering his voice, not enough that you can’t hear it. 

“What are they talking about?” You ask Kyle. Kyle shifts for a second looking back at you and reaching over to hold your hand. 

“Simon’s been questioning the person who shot at you both.” You nod, you’re pretty sure they’re doing more than just talking but you don’t push it. 

“Do you know who did it? 

“We have a theory but he’s not talking, so it’s just a theory.” Kyle says, squeezing your hand. 

“Hale?” You ask, you already know the answer, who else would be after you? 

“Yeah. He’s working with Shadow Company.” Kyle says. There’s another loud shout and another crash of something. 

“What is he doing?” 

“Teaching Williams a lesson hopefully. Guy left the security so lax he almost got you and Piper killed.” Kyle says. 

“He’s not going to hurt him is he?” Kyle chuckles. 

“No. That’s what Ghost is for.” You frown looking over at Simon. You’re not sure if you believe him or not, besides Simon left the room. A few seconds later the door opens and you see Williams step out. Simon and Johnny straighten up crossing their arms. No one says anything, he looks over at you and Kyle still sitting on the steps. 

You feel a chill run up your spine as his eyes meet yours. He looks mad about something, he probably didn’t like being shouted at by John. He doesn’t close the door behind him just walks around the welcome desk heading for the door. 

“What are you doing?” Piper asks suddenly behind you, you and Kyle both look up at her with an eyebrow raised. 

“John was shouting at Major Williams.” You say, you all watch him leave, letting the door slam close behind him. Piper hums walking down the steps past you both. You get to your feet and she turns to look up at you when she makes it to the bottom. 

“Do you have some time for me to collect some eggs?” Piper asks. You nod. “Kyle, do you want to come? Keep her company?” 

“Sure.” He says getting up and following you down the steps. When you make it past John's office he comes out. 

“Kyle, I need to talk to you.” John says, he looks at Piper then at John. You don’t want to let go of his arm but you drop your hand anyway. Piper's hand lands on the top of your back. 

“Johnny? Want to come hold my hand again?” You ask, he nods and jumps over the welcome desk throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“What are we doing today?” He asks as you start to walk over to the lab. 

“I need to harvest some eggs.” Piper says. 

“So you’re a chicken now?” Johnny jokes as Piper opens the door to the lab. You’ve done this before a long time ago in the bunker. Only once, it always hurts, but Piper needs this for the cure and you’ll do whatever it takes for the cure.   

…

You smile reaching up to stroke Johnny’s face. You’re laid flat on the uncomfortable exam table. Piper gave you some drugs to help you relax and put a sheet up covering the lower half of your body. Your head is swimming, whatever drug Piper gave you has made you feel really relaxed.

“You okay, lass?” Johnny asks, smiling back. You giggle nodding. Piper stands up on the other side of you. She brings a clear tube up over your head, you follow her hands as she places it  into your nose. Your head spins as you feel cold air blowing up your nose, you start to feel even more relaxed. You look over at Johnny and smile at him as Piper walks away. 

“It’ll help you feel better.” Fleur says as she attaches something on your finger. You bring your hand to look at it, seeing a number light up in red. 

“I feel fine.” You say smiling. Your head is all fuzzy and your body feels numb. Johnny chuckles, kissing the back of your hand, his fingers are laced with yours. 

“You look relaxed.” He says stroking his hair with his free hand. You can’t stop smiling at him. He’s so pretty with his blue eyes and silly hair, you like his hair. You like running your fingers through his hair. 

“Have you ever had your wisdom teeth taken out?” Fleur asks. You look over at her standing on the other side of the bed. For some reason it makes you giggle, she has a crush on Kyle which is cute.

“No, why?” Johnny asks.

“That's all it is, she’s going to be pretty woozy for the next few hours.” 

“Woozy.” You giggle. 

“Okay, I'm going to start now, just relax.” You try to look down but you can’t see her, all you can see is the top of a monitor and bright lights. You feel pressure, you lay as still as you can looking over at Johnny who smiles and kisses the back of your hand. 

For a second something snaps and you feel dread rising in you, you feel your stomach drop.

You squeeze John’s hand, you’re holding your breath looking in his eyes. Suddenly your head is clear and you don’t want to be here. You try to move your legs but you can’t. Johnny seems to see the distress in your eyes and his free arm comes down under your neck.

“It’s okay, keep still.” Piper says. You feel sick and you look down at the sheet. You’ve been here before, panic builds and you, a hand lands on your shoulder doesn’t help you calm down. 

“Relax, it’s okay.” You hear Fleur say. 

“Love, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Johnny says. Your breathing and heart rate starts to pick up, you’re trying to move but your whole body feels numb. You keep looking up at Johnny as his hand comes to cup your cheek rubbing it with his thumb. “It’s okay.” 

“He’s going to hurt me.” You say. It’s not Piper at the end of the bed, you’re suddenly not in a safe place. You don’t recognise the person whose hands have come up to hold your face. You try to pull it away but they don’t let you.

“Fleur.” You hear Piper say. “John, keep her calm.” Your head is spinning, you feel someone pick up your hand then something cold. You look up at the person standing next to you, your vision is fuzzy, his hands on your face are nice and warm. It’s like you know who he is but you’re not sure at the same time. Maybe the professor is just trying to play tricks on you. 

“You’re okay, love. Just relax.” The person says. Your eyelids start to feel heavy, your hand slips off your chest. He picks up and kisses the back of it. “I’m here. You’re safe, it’s all okay.” 

You’re still trying to figure out who he is as everything goes black. 

“What the hell was that?” Johnny asks as you pass out. Fleur has a stethoscope in her ears listening to your chest. 

“I thought it would be easier and less stressful for her if we did this without knocking her out.” Piper says. 

“Should I get John?” He asks, Piper sighs, flicking her eyes up to him. 

“It won’t take long for me to be finished here. I guess it’s up to you.” 

“It’s only a mild sedative, it’ll be worn off in an hour or so.” Fleur says. 

“And she’ll be on some pretty strong painkillers for the next few days.” Piper says now focused on what she’s doing between your legs. “Maybe you should get him, she’ll need someone to stay with her for the rest of the day.” 

Johnny sighs and heads out the room

“You could have done this from the start, why did you wait?” Fleur asks. 

“I wanted to see if she could handle it.” Piper says. “Come and give me a hand. The sooner we finish this the better.” 

It’s not long before she hears the door to the room opens. Piper and Fleur both look over to see John and Johnny walk in. She can smell his alpha, it’s almost overwhelming, it makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. 

“What the hell Piper!” John snaps coming over to you, his hands coming up to brush your face. 

“She’s fine, it’s just a mild sedative, she’ll be awake within the hour.” Fleur says. 

“You said it was a simple procedure.” John says stroking your face. 

“It is, she panicked.” 

“Why?” John asks, looking down at Piper. She lets out a sigh, placing something down on a tray before taking her  gloves off. “Fleur, finish up here-” She hands her something. “-Prep that for transport.” 

“Let’s talk outside.” She says pulling her mask off and gesturing at the door. John follows with Johnny behind him, Piper walks into the lab. The window is still boarded up and the whole place is colder than it’s ever been causing goosebumps to rise all over her body. 

She turns to look at John and Johnny. “She’s been hearing Hale in her head. Seeing him, I'm pretty sure what just happened was a flashback. We can’t risk her having a panic attack so soon after her distress.” She watches between them waiting for one of them to talk. 

“She’s hearing voices and seeing things.” Johnny repeats with concern in his voice. 

“Yeah, I think it’s part of her PTSD and it's been exacerbated by her distress. I’ve been trying to get her to open up, maybe get her to talk.” She seems to stumble on her words for a few seconds. “I’m no psychologist but honestly anything is better than nothing.”  

“Why didn’t you say anything?” John asks. She sighs rubbing her hand up one of her arms trying to warm herself. 

“I’m not sure. I didn’t want to spook her, I didn’t want you to have the responsibility of keeping more secrets from her. She needs to trust you.” Piper explains. John lets out a sigh, stepping forward and turning to look back at Johnny quickly. 

“Has she talked about anything?” John asks stepping up to Piper.

“It’s only been a day. We’ve had one talk.” She says. 

“Do you think it will help her?” 

“Yes.” She keeps it simple, she’s not quite sure how true it is but anything is a start. You’re safe surrounded by a pack who loves you, with you moving back to Scotland this would be the perfect time to do this. Especially with the distance between them, it’s important that they keep talking, they are bonded again. 

“Okay. We can continue this, when she wakes up we'll talk to her about it.” He lets out a sigh. “What did you need her eggs for?”

Piper hesitates for a second. “Stem cells, we can use her eggs to harvest embryonic stem cells.” 

“So that's the cure, omega stem cells?” John asks.

“No. Well- It’s complicated. All we know is that stem cells play a big role. The more stem cells we have the more tests we can do. I can provide the beta stem cells and getting spermatogonial stem cells from an alpha is easy. Simon has already volunteered.” She explains.

“Sperm-a-what cells?” Johnny asks. 

“They’re like embryonic stem cells, only males don’t produce eggs, last time I checked.” 

“You’re not going to use them to - I don’t know - clones? Create life?” John asks, lowering his voice. Piper hesitates looking over at Johnny who crosses his arms. He’s usually so open, it’s strange for Piper to see him like this. She wants to lie, let John think that it’s all just science magic. 

Genetics are messy, playing with stem cells is messy. She knows for a fact that if she was caught doing what she was doing she would have her medical license stripped and be in a court for ethics violations. But this situation is unique, she’s not doing anything she wasn’t doing in the bunker. 

She takes a step closer to him. “You want a cure, I’m making a cure. No one is getting hurt, that's all I can promise you.” John sighs, running his hand down his face. 

“Take her to bed. When she wakes up we’ll talk, like you said.” Piper says, bringing John back into reality. He nods and turns gesturing towards the medical room. Piper lets out a long breath reaching forward to brace herself on the table. 

She will get them a cure, she’ll fix Hale’s formula and give John and the rest of 141 a cure. You’re not going to take it though, she knows that. Even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself, all you know is being an omega. She watches as John carries you out the room with Johnny following behind him. It’s her job to convince you to take the cure, or at least try, that's going to be harder to do with distance between them.

…

When you wake you feel sore. You’re in your nest and Johnny is sitting on your bed. 

“Hey.” You say as you sit up. 

“Hey, love.” Johnny says putting the book back on your bedside table before he comes over to you crouching down in front of you. There’s a deep throbbing pain in your abdomen, You wince as you sit up pressing on it to see if it helps - it doesn’t.

Johnny turns around passing you a cup of water. “Fleur said you might feel a little bit of pain but she’s given you some pain relief.” He says, you take the cup and drink the water. 

“What happened?” You say, the last thing you remember is Piper telling you she was going to start. 

“You started to panic so they gave you a mild sedative.” You get up on your feet handing him back the cup.

“I don’t remember.” You say, Johnny comes over running his hands up your arms. 

“John and Piper want to talk to you.” He says. 

“What about?” You ask frowning as you both make your way out of the room. 

“He’ll tell you, don’t worry.” He says wrapping his arm around your waist. He takes you down to John’s office knocking on the door, when he calls you when you walk in but Johnny stays in the doorway.

“Go get Piper.” John says as he stands up immediately coming around the desk. His hand runs up your arm, he has a concerned look on his face. 

“I’m okay.” You say trying not to worry him. You really are okay. He hums his hand coming to your face before he leans down to kiss you. His hands run down your face to your neck, his thumbs resting on your chin while his fingers reach round the back of your neck brushing his mark.

His touch is possessive, you can smell his alpha in the air the room is filling with the mellow smell. When the door opens again he breaks from the kiss and the smell of lavender flows into the room. You feel dizzy as you sit down in one of the chairs, John going back round to his chair. 

“How’re you feeling?” Piper asks you. 

“Fine.” You say. She smiles looking back at John who leans forward on his desk. 

“Piper said you agreed to talk to her about what happened in the bunker.” John says, you straighten up in the chair looking over at her. You didn’t think she would tell anyone, you definitely didn’t want her to tell John. 

“I, I said I would. Piper thinks it's a good idea.” You say looking down at your knees. You feel embarrassed, you don’t want to talk to John about the bunker. About everything that happened to you, you just want him to be your alpha. 

Pipers hand lands on your thigh and you place your hand on hers. “It’s good that you talk to John. He will be able to understand your situation better.” She says, you look up at him.

“I don’t want you to think any differently of me. What happened in the bunker is the past.” You say looking back down at your knees. You hear John move and walk around the table, you look up to see him standing in front of you. His hand comes down to brush your cheek. 

“There is nothing you could tell me that would make me feel any different.” You don’t believe him. He bends down so his face is level with yours. 

“I love you, history and all, we all do. Nothing will change that.” This time you do believe him, you nod and he leans over to kiss you. When he breaks from the kiss he stands up his hand rests on your shoulder. 

“I think it’s good you talk with Piper. I will set it up with her so you can talk to her when you need to. Video calls so you can see her too. Kyle is good with all that really.” He says, it makes you smile. At least this way she won’t feel so far away. 

“Thank you.” You say, smiling at him. 

“From now on, no more secrets. We’ll tell you everything as we know it. Piper will be keeping us updated on the cure and we’ll spend some time together in Scotland.” John says. You like that idea, you don’t want there to be any more secrets. They didn’t tell you the professor was alive until he sent assassins over and you and Piper could have died. 

“What about after Scotland?” You ask. You know he wants to go after Hale, you know he wants to take down the people who hurt you. He hasn’t admitted it yet but you know at some point he might leave. You don’t want that to be true, pushing the thought away. 

“I don’t know yet. We have to see how Piper gets on with the cure and perfecting the formula. Until then we’ll get some rest. The moment anything changes I’ll let you know.” He says smiling. You nod and smile back, even though you don’t believe him. 

Pipers leaving today. That's all you can think about while you get out of bed and shower. You have no idea when you will see her again. John had already left, told you he would meet you for breakfast. You’re not hungry though, Piper is leaving and you have no idea what to do. 

John said she’s going somewhere safe but he thought it was safe here and you were both attacked. Wherever she’s going you hope that she’ll be safe, she has to because you want to be able to see her again. You head out the room making it to the top of the steps. You see John’s office door is open, maybe he’s still in there. As you make it down you see movement in the room. 

When you make it to his office door something feels wrong, there’s no smell of alpha. Goosebumps rise on the back of your neck as you slowly open the door. You see someone you don’t recognise in a soldier's uniform. For a second you think they’re picking something up for John but when they see you, you can see the panic in his eyes. 

“John!” You call. He pushes past you with papers in his hand. “Hey!” You snap, you want to chase after him but fear is keeping you locked in place. It doesn’t matter though because a few seconds later Johnny comes out into the lobby. 

“Hey!” He calls to the guy. John and Kyle are out a few seconds later taking in the scene.

“Soap!” John shouts. You finally feel like you can move and you step up to the desk as Johnny practically leaps on him, forcing him to the ground. There's a struggle, weapons are drawn and eventually the man relents. 

“You good?” Kyle asks you as he leaves John and Johnny to come over to you. Your eyes are still focused on the man on the floor. The papers he tried to run away with are scattered all over the floor. His hand lands on your shoulder and it makes you jump.

“Yeah. He just scared me, I thought it was John.” You say, he nods putting his pistol away. His arm wraps around your waist and Kyle starts to lead you around the welcome desk as the man’s being forced to his knees. He looks over at you, his eyes burn into you. What did he want from John’s office? Johnny moves to block him and you look up at Kyle and smile. 

“I’ll cook you something nice, what do you fancy?” He asks as you walk into the dining hall, you take one last look back at the man on his knees. These are the people the professor is sending to harm you, he didn’t do a very good job. 

“Surprise me.” You say as Kyle goes into the kitchen. You can’t help thinking about the folders he ran out of John's office with, what did he need from John? Why didn’t he just come back to finish the job? You sit down at a table and look over at Kyle in the kitchen, it doesn’t matter. They’ve caught him now, he can’t hurt anyone again.  

Kyle stays with you for most of the day, John goes to interrogate the guy they caught with Simon. Around noon a truck shows up to take the things Piper needs from the lab. For some reason watching the truck back up to the front entrance makes everything feel so real. 

She really is leaving, you have no idea where she is going or when you will see her in person again. At least you’ll be able to talk with her almost daily - even if it is about the bunker. You hope she’s right and it does help, or maybe it will make you feel worse, regardless it means you get to see her and talk to her. 

Johnny and Kyle help with carrying boxes and equipment with the other soldiers, while Piper orders them around. You sit behind the old welcome desk with a book pretending not to watch Johnny and Kyle in awe as they pull out what seems like increasingly heavier pieces of equipment. 

They work until the sun is starting to set, John and Simon come back and you finish the book. John spots you from a mile away smiling at you while he talks to Johnny and some of the other soldiers outside. You put the book down and get up stretching, you want to see how empty the lab is but you decide against it. 

You’d be more than happy to never set foot in another lab or medical room ever again. Instead you head upstairs, Piper and Fleur’s bags are already packed and stacked up by their doors. You go over to Piper's room, the bed has been stripped and the window is open letting in the warm evening sun. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. 

The room still smells of her - lavender - she always smells floral, safe. Most betas do, Johnny and Kyle’s scent is different though, maybe it's because you’re a pack, whatever it is you’re glad they all smell different. Different but the same, like Simon’s scent is more woody compared to John who smells more fresh. You smile and look down at one of her bags. 

It’s open and you can see a colorful scarf, you reach down pulling it out. It’s not silk like the one you let go in Scotland but it’s still beautiful, red with swirls of gold and silver. It looks almost ornate. When you were younger she used to wear scarfs alot, in her hair round her neck the older you got the less you saw them. 

You always remembered them though, it was the pop of colour that stood out in the dark gray bunker, the only other place with so much colour was the professor's lab and even that was dark wood and deep blues and greens. Maybe she’ll start wearing them again, you hope so. You bring the scarf up to your nose and breathe in her scent. You turn over to your room, you want to give her something too, something she can use to remember you. 

You know exactly what to give her, when you’ve arranged the scarf in your nest you find your hands running over each object you’ve collected from them. They’re your pack now, they’re the people who look after you who will always look after you. They may be your pack but Piper will always be the mother in your life, and she doesn’t have to be part of the pack to be that. Piper knocks on your open door a few minutes later, you almost miss it. She's so quiet and you’re in a world of your own. 

“We’re leaving now.” She says. You nod swallowing the tears and the lump in your throat, you won’t cry, not yet at least. 

You follow Piper out to the car, the truck is gone and Fleur is already standing by the driver's side door. You’re still gripping the blanket in your hands, she stops and turns to see you when she gets to the car. You look over at Fleur who smiles and gets in closing the door. You look up at Piper and smile at her, her hand comes up to brush your cheek wiping a tear away. 

“I’ll see you soon.” She says. “And we can talk everyday, if you want. John said he would set up a video call.” You nod but it still feels wrong, you wish you could go with her. But then you would be away from your pack, which would be worse. 

“I’m going to miss you.” You say trying not to sob. She hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tight and you hug her back. 

“I’m going to miss you too. You’ll be fine though by the time you get to Scotland you’ll be so distracted you won’t feel it.” She says. You nod, squeezing your eyes closed and breathing in her scent. Her scent has always been so comforting to you, but now when you think of comfort you think of your pack. 

The smell of alpha is no longer intimidating, it’s safe it makes you think of your alphas, your pack. She’s not part of the pack and never will be. You break from the hug, her hands land on the top of your arms, she smiles, you feel like you can see a glint of something in her eyes. You don’t want her to cry, if she cries you don’t think you’ll be able to let her go. 

“I want you to have this.” You say looking down at the blanket in your hand. 

“No, I don’t-”

“I want you to take it. It’s been with me since Canada, we’re bonded again you should have something from me.” You say, she smiles and takes it out of your hand. It feels weird letting it go, selfishly you want her to have something from you, to remind her so she never forgets. She hums running her thumb over the blanket. 

“Thank you.” She says. “I’ll get something of mine for you.” 

“I already have something.” you admit smiling at her. She raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

“I love you.” You say, this time when she blinks you can really see tears in her eyes.

“I love you too. This will all be over soon. Then we’ll have the rest of our lives together.” She says, you nod blinking tears away. You look over as the gates are opened, you know she has to leave now. She lets out a sigh and drops her hands from you. 

“We’ll talk everyday.” She reminds you. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” You throw your arms around her, you don’t want her to leave you want to beg her to stay. That would be selfish though, you squeeze her as tight as you can and she squeezes you back. She almost has to peel you off her. You feel someone behind you as her arms leave you new arms wrap around you. 

You look up and see Johnny gripping you tight. Piper smiles at him before turning to open the door and the passenger door. 

“Good luck doc.” Johnny says. You smile, wiping your tears as she closes the door and the engine starts. You feel a pang in your chest as you step back, you see her put her seatbelt on and the car slowly pulls away. You tip your head letting out a sob as it leaves out the gate, Johnny kisses the top of your head before turning you in his arms. 

“It’s okay, love. You’ll see her again.” Johnny says, you hug him sniffling against his chest as his hands run up and down your back. 

“I know, I’m just going to miss her.” You say, you can smell him projecting his scent but all you can smell is Piper and right now that's all you want. 

next

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[lotusunique]

The Engagement pt.3

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

Hey guys I know this took a little while to come out but like I said, nothing but the best for my readers!

With that being said, this has strong themes of toxic relationships and major smut! Enjoy 🌺💋

I also wanna give credit to @zari-0115 she helped me write the smut scene so W to her! She’s the best

You knew he’d be here. You were told he’d be here. You just didn’t realize how much it would actually hurt. You didn’t realize the air would start thinning around you when you saw his new girlfriend wrapped around him looking like they were the happiest couple on earth.

You feel a tight squeeze on your hand before realizing Armando was standing beside you.

“C’mon”,he says,taking your hand in his. You sift through the crowded party, hand in hand, before finally making it through the balconys sliding doors. You put your hands on your knees , and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Look up and count to ten”,Armando lifts your chin up before turning your head to look at the view in front of you. You stare out at the beautiful picture. The sunset and the ocean colliding in a way that’s so gorgeous with the pool infront of you glistening. It makes you wonder what you did to deserve to see this.

“One.Two.Three. Four. Five”, you start to count,feeling the tension and anxiety fade away. “There you go, inhala exhala”,he says rubbing your arms softly. “Thank you”,you smile up at him.

“What’s with the panic attack?”,Armando asks. “I don’t know. I saw my ex and my chest just started like caving in”, you explain trying not to let the tears hiding behind your eyes, out. You take a seat on the cool pavement

“That blonde tonto wit the bad hair cut?”, he asks with a disgusted look as he sits next to you.

“Unfortunately yes. I don’t even know why I dated him. But when someone manipulates your heart, it’s hard not to fall for the fake version of them”, you sigh.

“Oh look at me sounding like a Pinterest quote and shit”,you laugh. “What happened?”,he looks over to you. “Well he didn’t physically do anything to me. But i just realized it was like he was jealous of what I was doing with work and when I finally had my own place it was like he hated me for it.”,you start to explain.

Armando’s blood starts to boil the more you talk. “I don’t wanna talk your head off about old shit tho”,you shrug. “Im here to listen”,he says geniunely.

You give a slight nod,“It got to the point where he would ridicule me for everything and belittle me. And at some point I started believing he was right. And I got in this really low place..I wasn’t eating, couldn’t sleep, didn’t even show up to work for a week.”, you sigh getting war flashbacks from arguably the worst time of your life.

“Why did Kelly and Dorn invite him if he did all that to you?”,he asks. “They don’t know about anything that actually went down. They just know we didn’t work out. After everything I still wanted to protect his image.”,you say fidgeting with your finger tips .

Armando grabs your hand, “promise me something”. You raise an eyebrow. “Promise you’ll never let anyone give you anything less than what you deserve”. He looks into your eyes, waiting for you to promise.

“I promise”,you nod. “And don’t let that dickhead fuck this party up for you okay.”,he says rubbing the palm of your hand with his thumb.

“Thank you again Armando. Like for coming and helping me with all this.”,You look over at him. The world is calm for a moment and it seems like it’s only you and Armando.

“I don’t know if this is dumb to tell you or not. But Armando I think I -“

You’re cut off by Armando smashing his lips into yours. You lean into the kiss as he cups your face. You two get so deep into the kiss that at some point your back is on the pavement and he’s on top of you. Without coming up for air the two of you deepen the kiss. Within an instant Armando falls over into the pool, the splash getting you wet.

“Oh shit”,you let out a loud laugh. He resurfaces,wiping the water out of his eyes. “Oh this is funny to you?”,he smiles up at you. “Oh no of course not. It’s hillarious”, you cackle. “Yea yea now help me out”,he sticks his hand out for you. He grabs on hold of your hand before he smirks and pulls you in next to him.

You resurface in the water, “no the fuck you didnt”,you laugh. Everyone walks outside hearing the commotion. “What is going on here”,Kelly laughs.

“Um nothing”,you giggle. “Who cares just jump in”,Marcus says pushing past Mike to jump in the pool. “Man you better watch my suit,”, He says, dead serious by the look on his face.

The two of you climb out of the pool as everyone files back into the living room. You make your way to you guys’s room as your wet clothes cling to your bodies. “You wanna shower first?”, you ask turning to him. “Nah ladies first”, he smirks over at you . You head into the bathroom,starting up the shower, getting the temperature just right. You loved the build of the bathroom. There was a huge see through shower with beautiful deep brown brick walls and a huge granite sink.

You peek your head out the bathroom seeing Armando snatch off the wet t-shirt. It’s not like he didn’t look amazing with the shirt on but got damn if he didn’t look just as good with it off.

You get into the shower feeling the warm water and bubbles up your skin. A wide smirk spreads across your face as a bright idea pops into your head. “Hey Armando can you hand me my towel I left it on the bed”,You call out.

“Yea sure”,he says putting the towel over his shoulder and walking into the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He walks in with his hand over his eyes. “Why don’t you move your hand and put them somewhere else”,you smile. He slowly removes his hand before looking upon your body and stepping into the shower with you.

He places soft kisses on your neck, tracing his hands up and down your skin. You let out soft moans as he scoops you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

In this moment you two were the only things that matter. He looks up at you, “Are you sure you wanna do this”,he looks into your deep brown eyes.

“Yes, I want you”,you say as a wide smile appears across your face. He smiles before kissing you so passionately.

He immediately starts fast, pounding into you with your back against the tile wall. He slides in you going deeper, until he hits your cervix causing you to yell out in pleasure.

Armando carries you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around his waist, before laying you down, towering over you he places soft kisses on your boobs, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He enters two fingers into you causing you to arch yourself upwards with every touch. Your toes curl as he massages your clit. Just when you’re close to finishing Armando removes his fingers. You look down at him, your eyes meeting his, you all but beg for him to give you your release. He smiles up at you mischievously while taking his fingers and putting it up to his mouth to taste you.

He then lifts you up and turns you over like you weigh nothing. He slips himself inside of you and pounds in and out repeatedly. You grab hold of the pillows to keep yourself up right, squirming at each jolt you can hardly keep your ass up. “Hold on Mi Amor” he says instructing you not to finish just yet. Right when he feels you pulsing under him he slips himself out… yet again. “Why are you teasing me?” You whine. Armando doesn’t answer he just flips you over and begins to go down on you, alternating between his tongue and fingers devouring you while he pleasures your nipples with his other hand. He finally lets you release not soon after he enters you again for him to then be finished.

The two of you plop down onto the soft satin sheets, heavy breathing and giggling in between. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that”,You smile over at him. “I’ve been waiting for that since the day I met you”,He says cupping the side of your face.

“You getting soft on me Aretas?”,you laugh. “You know ain’t shit bout me soft Mama”,He looks over at you with a sarcastic smirk. “Call me mama again and we gon have to may have to go run it back ”,You say before climbing on top of him, a mischievous smile across your face. “Let’s do it then mama”,he smirks up at you.

[klausinamarink]

The Munson Jinx

rating: T | cw: Eddie’s near-death experience, blood, mention of anxiety attack | tags: hurt/comfort, happy ending, getting together | wc: 885

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 10: First kiss

Eddie hates first kisses.

In his experience, kissing a stranger’s lips always goes wrong. You can ask Isabelle Thesault, the first and only girl he’d kissed who never spoke to him again after he threw up on her face in seventh grade and ruined her Barbie t-shirt. Or Riley Nicks, who immediately punched him in their freshman year. Or David Young, a drunk jock who threw up in Eddie’s mouth and ruined his appetite for two days. Or Mortimer Lee, who bit Eddie’s lower lip and tongue too hard. Or that one older guy at the Bloomington bar which gave Eddie an explosive anxiety attack. Or-

You get the gist.

Hence, first kisses have snuck into the Munson Doctrine. You shall not passionately make out with another man. Remember the Isabelle incident if you’re tempted.

That is not to say that Eddie still yearns for that kind of romantic connection. There’s really nothing more intimate than letting the barriers down and allow another person to come close and gently kiss you. But that’s all Eddie can do: imagine a perfect scenario where nothing happens and the Munson jinx doesn’t foil another kiss.

Then the Munson jinx seems to move on from let’s make Eddie’s every first kiss horrible to let’s turn Eddie’s life a literal nightmare where bone-breaking interdimensional wizards exist.

At least Steve Harrington’s in it this time.

To be honest, Eddie doesn’t have much to say about Steve. Sure, he thought the old King of Hawkins was a douche, but after seeing him try and help out with Eddie’s new life as a murder suspect and kill a demon bat with his bare hands-

To say that Steve is a nice guy might be an understatement.

But he squashes down the newborn puppy crush. He’s seen how Steve’s gaze lingers on Nancy recently, back on the boat and here as they walk through the Upside Down. He thinks about how lonely Steve had been a couple years back after the breakup. So Eddie tells Steve about going for that second chance and this time, Nancy Wheeler will stay.

Except while Eddie is talking, he notices that Steve’s just looking at him. His eyes are briefly unfocused, flickering twice to Eddie’s lips-

Oh no.

Eddie just stands there with wide eyes like an idiot, panicking internally, thinking back to Isabella and Riley and that Bloomington man as Steve starts to lean closer-

When a tremor sends them falling on their asses, Eddie’s thinking how lucky he is that this happened before Steve’s lips touched his.

They don’t talk about it. It’s been a blur of frantic panic and cold planning to kill Vecna once and for all that Eddie kind of forgets about the incident.

Until he lies bleeding on the frigid ground with Henderson weeping over him, only for Steve’s head to shove into Eddie’s blurry view.

The first thing he feels is Steve’s lips on his, breathing a lungful into his coppery mouth.

Immediately, Eddie jerks away. Stupid flashbacks of spoiled kisses flash before his eyes, which were way worse than his own life.

“Don’t move, idiot!” Steve shouts at him, hands pressing firmly against one of Eddie’s bite wounds on his side.

Eddie tries to say something back, but instead spits out a gross glob of blood and mucus and promptly blacks out.

—

“Any five’s?”

“Go fish.”

Eddie grumbles and drops the cards on his lap, “Now this is unfair. Taking advantage of a hospital patient like this.”

Steve gives an amused huff as he takes Eddie’s cards and reshuffles the deck. It’s been part of a weird routine once Eddie had woke up and slowly regained his motor muscles. Steve visits, they talk about whatever (mostly the kids or Hawkins gossip), play some cards, share a questionably tense staring contest, and Steve leaves.

This time, Steve breaks it and asks, “Are you still okay with me?”

Eddie blinks at him, fighting off exhaustion, “Hm, what?”

Steve just stares down at the cards. “You know that I tried to kiss you. Back at those woods.” He says with clipped words, almost like he’s trying to suck out any hint of emotions. “Just say you’re not comfortable with me and I’ll get out of your hair, man.”

Eddie stares at him. Steve, the man who tried to kiss him once and then again just to save Eddie’s life even as he nearly choked on his own blood. Steve, who does everything for his kids and friends, including Eddie who’s still too new to this shit.

Steve, who sees something desirable in Eddie and wanted to kiss him.

Before Steve can get up, Eddie shifts closer and cups the man’s face with his palm. He closes his eyes, barely catching Steve’s startled look, and leans in.

For a moment, nothing happens. It’s good because nothing is going to be ruined. But then it’s bad because Eddie can feel how stock-still Steve is. However, just as he starts to pull away, Steve seems to spark to life and his lips chases after him. His hand gently grips onto Eddie’s bicep, making Eddie smile at the contact.

As they safely make out in the sterile hospital room without either of them throwing up or freaking out, Eddie mentally gives the finger to the Munson jinx.

[taleyav]

Vampire purr

It’s almost impossible to find comfort anymore, especially in Hawkins. Especially for Eddie Munson, right after the “earthquake” he was taken care of by the Hawkins scientists. Eddie’s convinced they’re not just testing his blood for his health. He’s convinced they’re trying to test on him, and the party well can’t say it’s unrealistic. They’ve heard of them doing worse, El can attest to that as well. The party is currently in the hardest stage of PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks are becoming more and more common among them.

At this current moment, Steve “The hair” Harrington is at the new Munson trailer. Never in a million years would Steve ever think, that he’d be hanging out with Eddie Munson willingly. But I guess you can say shared trauma can do a lot to a guy. Especially since Munson is basically a vampire now, at first Steve only did it because he felt bad for the guy. But now he actually enjoys being in his company.

They’re currently seated at his couch, listening to music while drowning out their feelings in weed. “Ya know what sucks?” Steve mumbles out in a daze.

“What?” Eddie understood him easily, he’s used to the high mumbling Steve comes up with by now.

“It always feels like, I’m not allowed to be mad at Nancy.” Eddie turns his head to him confused.

“What do you mean?”

“It always in a way felt like I was never allowed to be mad at Nancy for cheating on me. Because to be honest, every single time I’ve tried to move on we’re back to dealing with stupid upside down shit.” Steve isn’t looking at Eddie while he says this, he seems more concerned about the stain on the carpet than Eddie.

“I really don’t know what to say to that sorry man.”

“You- you don’t have to say anything. I’m just ranting I guess.” Eddie can only nod in understanding, well until Steve sighs dramatically and lays down with his head on Eddies lap. Eddie for a moment is shocked, until he just chuckles and starts playing with Steve’s hair. Which sober Steve hates, but high Steve absolutely loves. He basically melts into Eddies lap.

Eddie and Steve just sat there for a second with Eddies hands in his hair. Well until Steve asks something he never thought he’d hear from him.

“Eddie… have you ever kissed a boy?”

“Uhh what?”

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”

Eddie is so glad he’s high right now. Because if he wasn’t… then he’d be frozen in place. But because he’s mostly, well halfway high and sober. Eddie can answer him honestly.

“I mean yeah. It’s actually sometimes better than kissing girls.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I’d say so.”

“Can I try it?”

“Try- try what?”

“Kissing a boy.”

“Um. Yeah of course man. No one would judge you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gets a dazed look in his eyes, then suddenly all he can think about is kissing Eddie’s lips. They look soft, and unlike any girls he’s ever kissed before. For a moment Eddie sobers up, and then just nods.

“Can I kiss you then?” Steve whispers out, almost like a secret between them. For a fleeting moment, Eddie wants to stop him. He wants to remind Steve how high he is. But then, the moment passes. Eddie thinks about it, he knows that if he says no now. Then any chance of kissing Steve another time would never happen. So sue him, he’s had a crush on Steve Harrington since he was still “King Steve”. So what if he wants to be selfish for once?

“Yeah. Yeah you- can.” Steve gains a dopey smile, and before either boy knows it. Steve is leaning in, and kissing Eddie. At first it’s clumsy, and uncomfortable, then they try again. That time, it’s pure bliss. Eddie’s head is tilted just a little bit to help kiss Steve right. They continue to kiss until Steve begins straddling Eddies waist. For a moment, Eddie is completely still, not daring to even touch Steve. He’s terrified that if he does he’ll scare Steve away.

But thankfully for him, Steve touches him first. He gently grabs the back of his neck. And Eddie relaxes slightly, and gently holds onto his waist. The kiss continues passionately and the more they continue the more both boys relax. Then a sound comes out. At first they ignore it, and proceed. But as the kiss continues on, the sound becomes louder. Eventually they separate to question said sound.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know. It sounds almost like a purr.”

They listen quietly for a moment trying to locate it. But the trailer becomes dead silent again, the boys eventually look at each other and shrug it off.

“Well it’s gone now.” Steve says with a shrug, and goes back to making out with Eddie like nothing happened. Which Eddie is more than happy with. For a moment they continue on like nothing happened, then the sound returns. Steve takes notice instantly, and decides to test a theory. He heard once that bats purr. And technically Eddie’s a vampire now, so maybe it’s him?

He gently licks Eddies bottom lip, and the purring grows louder. Gotcha! Steve thinks before pulling back, which results in a pout from Eddie.

“What’s up?”

“Eddie. I think it’s you. The purring sound.”

“What? Cmon man, that’s stupid. I don’t purr.”

Steve is naturally stubborn, but when he’s high. It’s even worse.

“Let me prove it then.”

“Go ahead. But yeah, I don’t purr.” Steve ticks an eyebrow up, and gently kisses Eddie’s lips. Then cheeks. Then jaw. Then finally his neck. The purring returned then. And all Steve could do is smirk at him.

“Oh.” Eddie says before giggling, and soon enough Steve joins in. For a moment everything’s perfect. Everything makes sense, and the vampire purr made everything even better. And maybe they’d do this again, maybe they’d get high and make out again. And maybe both boys are more than ok with that.

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 5

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Alcohol consumption, brief exploration of faith (WC: 6k)

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

“My friend died today.”

You don’t know what causes you to say those words to Levi that evening. Why, silent as ever, you choose to break it now with facts he knows already. He was on the same expedition; he was the one who tried to clean your hands with a handkerchief. Only you wouldn’t let him—because the blood was hers and you couldn’t bear to remove it. Not yet.

A lump forms in your throat. “Does... does the pain ever go away?”

You realize you’re crying then, and you think it’s rather pathetic to be crying in front of a soldier whose fate is to witness death.

But Levi’s voice is next to you all the same.

“It’s gonna be hell,” he tells you. “There’ll be nights where you hate you made it. But no matter what, you can’t stop moving.”

You laugh meekly. “What's the point?”

“Remember you carry the memories of the dead.”

And somehow, you want to cling onto those words.

“How did you bear it when you lost your friends?” You instantly shake your head, attempting to brush away clumps of tears. “Sorry, that’s personal. You don’t need to answer that.”

Levi doesn’t supply you with a response. But when he offers you a handkerchief, this time, you take it.

.

.

.

Gabi and Falco arrive on the first day of the Shooting Star festival.

“Uncle Levi!”

Gabi wastes no time. Levi’s in his wheelchair today, but that doesn’t seem to deter her; he barely has time to look up before she topples into him for a hug. Levi lets out a stiff grunt. Gabi smells like peaches, the kind that grows all around the southern parts of Marley. Even her clothes—an orange sundress with a matching ribbon in her hair—seem to match the theme.

At last, the girl releases him, and Levi inhales a much needed breath of air. Gabi studies him for a moment, the intensity of her gaze gleaming under the strong sun.

“Hey, brat.” He gives Gabi a feeble pat on the head, hoping to divert her attention away. He has to reach up to do so, his three-fingered hand weaving through her auburn hair. 

The prudent shuffling of steps makes him turn.

“Morning, Mr Levi,” comes Falco's pleasant voice. 

Over the last 3 years, Falco's grown. Gone is the face of the child who helped save humanity; Falco turned into a full-fledged teenager. He's tall—Levi has to twist his neck up to get a good look at him.

(Sometimes, Levi thinks fate has a twisted sense of humor. All these brats are growing like fucking trees.)

“So good to see you all!” Levi watches as you step between Falco and Gabi, placing your hands on their shoulders like a teacher would for her pupils. “Glad you could make it.”

“So are we, Doc,” Gabi answers. “Can’t believe s’been a whole year since we last saw ya!”

“Mm, you kids look all grown up.”

“Damn right!” Gabi puffs her chest proudly. “I’m the tallest in my class now.”

Falco smiles sheepishly, scratching his cheek. “And you’re looking radiant as ever, ma’am.”

You snort, taking a step back. “Now you’re stroking my ego, kid. You can relax... and no need to be so formal.”

Falco flushes pink. “R-right.”

The sound of the car being locked pulls the focus towards the last person of the group. Onyankopon, clad in light summer clothes and a beige fedora, closes the distance. He’s got a large wooden object tucked under his arm, and an equally large grin plastered on his face.

When he reaches you, you kiss both sides of his cheeks, a greeting that’s typical in these parts. If Onyankopon is surprised by your new habits, he makes no comment on it.

“And hello to you, too, friend.” Your gaze wanders towards the object in his hands. “Oh, don’t tell me! Is that…?”

“Yep, your easel! Tomio sends his regards.”

Tomio Eto, besides being Onyankopon’s husband, is also the history teacher at the local school in Mare. When he learned you were planning to stay, he promised to smuggle out one of the unused easel from the storage—using Onyankopon as his delivery man, it seems. 

A bright smile brackets across your face. “Shucks, you’ll have to thank him for me—shame he’s not here.” You take the easel from Onyankopon’s hand, the weight dragging your shoulders down. “Falco... could you be a dear and carry this to my bedroom?”

“Sure, thing, ma’am—” Falco takes a step forward, only to freeze seconds later. “I mean, Dr. Adler, err, miss…? Um—”

“He’s hopeless,” Gabi intervenes with a sigh, picking up the travel bags she’d discarded to greet Levi. “He’ll never get it right.”

At that, a peel of laughter sets off. Levi’s certain the sound of it must be heard all the way from the beach.

You welcome the group into the house, first directing Falco to place the easel in your bedroom, while the rest gather in the common room. On account of the warm weather, the window is wide open, bringing in the scent of salt from the sea and cotton from the laundry drying outside.

Onyankopon and Gabi place their belongings near the entrance. As they step inside, their gazes dart around, taking in the new decor like it was something to be studied. 

And no wonder. 

Over the last month, you’ve been busy adding your special touch everywhere. Where the furniture in the common room used to be functional and minimal—Levi was never one for superfluous things, after all—now, all kinds of shit has been added.

The vinyl player Onyankopon once gifted him. Books, plants, seashells. A collection of candles. Cushions and blankets. 

Trinkets, you’d called them, meant to make the room feel cozy and inviting. Levi can’t speak to that; he thinks it’s mostly junk that gets dusty too quickly. But it’s junk that reminds him of you, so he lets it be.

As if on cue, you step back into the room. “What can I get you all? There's pastries on the table, and Levi was just making tea. We’ve also got coffee, if anybody’s interested.”

At that, Onyankopon turns towards Levi. “You and coffee?” He lets out a whistle that speaks volumes about his feelings on the matter. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well.” Levi crosses his arms over his chest, head bobbing in your direction. “This one’s got a taste for it. Didn’t have much of a choice.”

You laugh lightly. “It was all they had on the last boat we traveled on... I guess I just grew accustomed to the taste of it. I was planning to make a cup for myself, if anyone's interested.”

“I won’t say no to that!” Gabi beams. “Though Falco prefers Uncle Levi's tea.” 

“I’ll also stick to tea,” Onyankopon says. “Been trying to reduce my intake.”

You nod and get to work. You turn on the kettle and measure the right amount of coffee beans to grind. As you do, Levi maneuvers himself next to you. He removes the tea bag from the pot he left to steep, and grabs clean cups. 

“Gabi, that’s your third coffee this morning,” Falco lectures, having presumably walked into the room after Levi turned away. “It's bad for your heart.”

“I slept like three hours last night,” Gabi complains. “I need this.”

“I told you not to read those scary stories.”

“At least I wasn’t the one shaking on the spot.”

“But I never wanted to read them in the first place.” Falco groans. “Ugh, let's promise never to repeat that date.”

Their bickering soon ensues, filling the air with so much damn noise Levi feels an impeding headache forming. Those damn brats. 

Before he can say a thing, however, the sound of your hands smacking against the kitchen counters resonates across the room. You turn towards the teenagers, who’ve stopped talking at your outburst. “Wait, a minute… what do you mean, date?”  

Levi's head pivots in Gabi's direction. 

“Are you two going steady?” You gasp. “Gabi, is Falco your beau?”

Both Gabi and Falco seem embarrassed by your words, but it shows up differently on their faces. Falco dips his head down, cheeks tickled pink.

Gabi gapes and goes bright red. “D-d-don’t say it like that, Doc! Sounds so... so.... old-fashioned!”

“When did this happen?”

You move to stand close to them like a concerned mother, your hands on your hips—coffee preparation long forgotten. Levi sighs and turns back towards the counter. As he listens, he moves the ground coffee into the paper filter and grabs the water that finished boiling over the stove. It has to be poured in slowly, all to extract the taste of the coffee beans.

“When?” 

“Just three weeks ago…” Falco mumbles.

“You guys are barely sixteen years old—”

“Took them long enough,” Levi mutters beneath his breath. He thought his ears might bleed the last time Falco and Gabi subjected him to their stupid teenage hormones. Hopefully, this means he can be spared from listening to them flirt from here on.

Apparently, your outlook differs from his own. “Aren’t you two a little too young to settle down already?” 

“Don't phrase it so weird,” Gabi says in an exasperated tone. “Didn’t you date people when you were our age?” 

“Sure, people, but never anyone serious." 

Now Levi’s interest is piqued. Who exactly are these people, and why has he never heard of them before?  

His scowl reflects into the glass carafe, coffee dripping down painfully slow. 

Onyankopon’s chuckle fills the air. “Young people nowadays are more voracious than previous generations. Perhaps it is the way the world has evolved that makes them cling to the present all the more readily.”

“Even so, be mindful you two,” you say. “Communicate well with each other. Treat one another with kindness. And remember to use means of protection if you ever—”

"Oh, we are so not talking about this,” Gabi yelps. 

"We don't need to, Gabi, but—" 

“La-la-la-la-la-la!"

Levi looks back irritatingly. Gabi has covered her ears with her hands, screeching like a feral dog. 

“Oi, quit it.” From across the room, Levi glares at her. “Why don't you listen to your elders and sit the fuck down?” 

Gabi grimaces, but Levi’s voice seems to bring her back to reason. Her uproar ceases as she takes a seat. Falco sighs but joins her, still stiff as a plank and red as a lobster.

“Elder?”, you mouth as you step back towards Levi. “Was that your way of calling me old?”

Levi’s expression stays blank; he places the coffee dripper into the sink. “Old enough to give them sound advice.”

The corners of your lips twitch. “Uh-huh.”

“Tch, I'm older than you. If you're old, I'm halfway to the grave.”

“Now you're just being dramatic.”

With a last parting smile, you place the hot drinks on a tray and set off. Gray eyes follow your delicate movements, and Levi soon follows. He positions himself across the three guests and to your left.

“Looks delicious, Miss Adler, Mr Levi,” Falco remarks once things are laid out. He takes a whiff of his cup. “What tea is this?”

Like clockwork, everyone turns to him. Levi’s expression stays neutral, but he feels a swell of pride at being the spokesperson on the topic.

“Green tea from Hizuru. It’s malty and aromatic,” he explains. It’s another tea you bought him, in fact, another gift he reluctantly accepted. “I picked it ‘cause it goes well with sweet shit, since she keeps on insisting to rot her teeth with sugar.”

Levi gestures to you. You huff a laugh. 

“I’m glad you did, Miss Adler.” Falco smiles. “I’ve got a sweet tooth, too.”

Before long, the table falls into comfortable conversations that’s eased by warm drinks and pastries. You explain how you’ve been trying to find a job in Mare, while Falco and Gabi catch you up on what they’ve been up to—Falco wants to be a pilot, Gabi wants to work with troubled kids. Even Onyankopon chimes in, explaining the advancements in communication that have been established all over the continent.

“Heard any news from Armin?” you ask once the topic inevitably strays towards post-war efforts. 

By now, the sun has risen higher in the day—midday on the horizon—and everyone is slowly finishing their refreshments.

“We spoke on the phone last night, actually,” Onyankopon's voice grows more serious. “The Alliance is preparing to have talks with Paradis.”

The Yeagerists, proxies of what used to be Floch and the crew that followed Eren, have recently established a new order on Paradis. A government seeped in military rule, with a chain of command that’s distributed amongst high-ranking officials. You've told him that Historia’s influence, whatever it was, has slowly dwindled this last year, making the future of the island uncertain.

One thing’s for sure, either way: the home that you and Levi left behind will never be the same. A matter Levi has long made peace with; after the war ended, he knew there was no going back.

He doesn’t know how you feel about it, though.

“Armin said they plan to negotiate for peace,” Onyankopon continues with a sigh, interlacing his hands on the table, “but as you know, it’s more complicated than that.”

“... Yeah.”

Levi notices your fingers gripping your cup tightly, knuckles turning a shade paler. He has the sudden urge to take your hands between his own. If the others weren’t here, he thinks, perhaps he would. 

(Lately, all he does is find excuses to touch you.) 

“Anyway, I see everyone has finished. Should we head out for the fair?” Onyankopon offers, perhaps sensing the shift in mood as well. "The weather’s perfect today." 

“You're right.” You hum in agreement. "No use in staying indoors and missing out.”

Meanwhile, Gabi turns to Falco. “Think of all the prizes we can win!” 

“I'm down if it means ice-cream...” answers Falco. 

“Seems like we've each got a personal mission," Onyankopon teases. "But I wasn’t joking—it’s hot today. I suggest you prepare accordingly.”

Levi makes a face. Great, he’s had enough of summer. 

A minute later, with a clear objective set, everyone gets ready. The kids bring the dirty dishes to the sink and put the leftovers in the icebox, while Onyankopon steps out to start the engine of the car. 

That leaves you and Levi on cleaning duty. While you wash the plates, cleaning gloves dipped in soapy water, Levi helps you dry them. As he does, his peripheral catches you staring at him periodically. You’re trying to be stealthy about something, but failing. What else is new?

“What?” Levi finally grumbles. “Something on my face?”

“Well… sunburn, if you’re not careful.”

At that, Levi shoots you a look. What the hell are you on about?

You hand him the last plate to dry, biting your lower lip. Levi’s gaze flickers to the movement; it makes him painfully aware he’s staring. 

He sobers up by clearing his throat. “Spit it out, Adler. You look constipated.”

“Well... promise you’ll consider it?”

“Depends what it is.”

“Levi...”

“For crying out loud, woman. Speak.”

Just as the water’s drains down the sink, you toss the cleaning gloves to the side. With an expression that’s almost coy, you fold your arms across your chest, only to unfold them within seconds. “I got you something, alright?”

Without saying another word, you head towards the low board by the couch. There, you pick up two items, the nature of which becomes clear to Levi as you step back. The first item that catches his eyes is a white bottle. It’s got a label on it, along with a symbol Levi recognizes as belonging to the apothecary of Mare. The second item is... a pair of tinted glasses?

Levi raises a brow. You got him sunscreen and sunglasses. 

“I bought them the other day,” you explain absentmindedly. "To protect from the summer heat."  

Levi's throat suddenly feels a little thick; he fixes your shoulder like it held the answers to everything. 

“Levi?" Your tone is puzzled. His peripheral catches your hand reaching out, pausing, only to withdraw back. "Hey, what's wrong?”

“You're wasting your coin on me.” Though he doesn’t mean for his words to come across as ungrateful, there’s frustration that bleeds through his tone.

It's just that this isn't part of the plan. You're meant to be saving money and moving forward. 

... Not wasting it all on him. 

His surly comment doesn’t go unnoticed. Levi sees you shift, asymmetry in your stance, like you were trying to make yourself appear smaller.

“It’s not wasted if you need it...” 

He swallows down the heaviness forming in his chest. For some reason, his belly hurts. 

“... You’ll use it, right?” you ask.

Levi flares a sharp sound but finally raises an open palm in the air. He doesn’t miss the small smile that creeps on your face as you hand him the items.

Not two minutes later, Levi finds himself lathering sunscreen on his exposed forearms, on his neck, on his cheeks. He looks at you from his wheelchair, while you adjust your sun hat using the mirror by the entrance. When you look back at him through the reflection, your eyes meet. For a moment, that's all there is to it—locked eyes and silence. Around you, Levi notices dust particles hovering in the air, streaks of sunlight framing your face. 

Then, you turn around and step closer.

Levi’s breathing goes shallow. 

Slowly, you raise a hand and run a thumb over his jaw, gliding gently over his scars. It makes Levi’s heart wrench. 

You always did have the most gentle of hands.

“There was still some sunscreen on your face,” you supply, the tip of your fingers lingering on his face. Your voice is quiet, but Levi feels it thrumming through him all the same. 

You turn away. 

Levi suddenly wishes you’d look back at him, just so he could see your expression, but a part him is glad you don’t see his embarrassment he’s sure is there, despite setting his face into a neutral expression.

And as Levi goes out into the sun that day, tingles remain where you last touched him. 

.

.

.

“Their names were Isabel and Furlan,” he tells you one night.

You blink, breath hitching. You shift in the armchair to face him.

“The friends that joined the Scouts with you?”

He nods once, slowly.

You place down your half-opened book. “Would… would you like to tell me about them?”

And he does.

.

.

.

Levi’s half convinced the whole town showed up.  

Mr Jakowski recently explained the significance of the Shooting Star festival. Although the town of Mare was only rebuilt a year ago, the tradition dates back generations. At its core, it’s a holiday commemorating summer’s end, taking place several weeks before the last day of the season.

This year’s festival is special; it’s the first time it’s being held since the Rumbling. To say that it has been long-awaited would be an understatement.

Everywhere Levi looks, it’s crowds and performers and merchants from all corners of Marley. 

“Cheap lanterns for sale! Best in town!”

“Warm popcorn, buttery and delicious.” 

“It’s hot today, but not as hot as our fire breathers!”

As people weave past him, the smell of food stretches wide. Tents dart across corners and winding streets, while matching bunting and colorful flower garlands flutter in the wind. There’s entertainment of all sorts to be found here, games that feel familiar and yet different from what Levi saw back on Paradis.

Up ahead, Gabi and Falco filter from booth to booth, trying to select the best fair game to spend their money on. Gabi seems to have gotten it into her head that this has to be a competition.

“Whoever wins the most games,” she declares, “owes the other person ice-cream.” 

“Gabi, can’t we just have fun and not turn this into—”

“Nope!”

Next to him, you and Onyankopon both seem amused by the pair.

Levi, meanwhile, keeps quiet. He’s not overly fond of these types of events. Too many sounds, for one, too many people: crowds of children, a jester throwing confetti in the air, a troupe playing a song. A fucking clown—Levi scowls at the sight of that abomination. All of this, coupled with this hellish weather, and Levi’s way out of his element.

Luckily, he doesn't need to wait too long. Within minutes, Gabi and Falco settle on an axe throwing game that seems especially generous to its winners (Gabi practically has hearts in her eyes the moment she sees the prizes). 

As Gabi and Falco hand their coins to the vendor, you turn to him.

“Hey, 'Vi. Think I wanna try something new today.”     

Levi’s eyes flicker to meet your rueful gaze. 

"You know, on account to my new beginning here and all." You hesitate, shooting him a crooked grin. “Gonna go get my fortune told.” 

At that, Levi raises a brow. 

“I've always been curious about the optics of it and, I don't know, I kinda thought... when in Mare, right?" At his blank expression, you tilt your head. "You wanna join?” 

"No." 

All his life, Levi’s never looked ahead. Now that he has all the time in the world to do so, he’s not about to let some wannabe-oracle tell him what’s supposedly in the stars for him.

Levi intends to discover that for himself. 

“Alright, suit yourself,” you say. “I'll see you later.” 

“Be careful.”

“Always am.”

Levi watches as you walk away, the shape of your figure slowly fading into the crowds. His chest squeezes, thinking how easily he could lose sight of you amidst this influx of people. He makes a point not to linger for too long, though, knowing he’s being fussy for no reason. He tunes out the brouhaha of the crowds and instead focuses on a familiar pair of voices—voices not exactly subtle in their loudness.

“And he misses... a-gain!” Gabi’s sing-song voice cuts through the fair noise. She smirks. “Guess someone owes me a triple chocolate ice-cream.” 

“Not so fast,” Falco hisses, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyes the goal. “I have one more try.”

Falco adjusts his position, aligning the axe to his stance. Just as he’s about to throw it, however, his shoulders suddenly slug. The vendor, an older man with a mustache, shoots him a questioning look. 

Falco lowers the axe, turning to Gabi. “I don’t see the point of this.”

“The point is winning. Duh.” 

“But can’t we just enjoy the day?” 

By now, Falco’s cheeks are rosy again, equal parts of frustration and embarrassment. Gabi contemplates him before finally leaning close to his ears (she thinks she’s being quiet, but she practically screams her next words). “Tell you what, Grice. I’ll throw in a kiss on the cheek if you hit it once...” 

That seems to do the trick. For a moment, Falco’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of crimson, before he clears his throat and squares his shoulders. Then, with a slow breath, he steadies his hand, and—

Smack!

The axe lands dead center. A perfect shot. 

Falco blinks. Then grins. 

Beside him, Gabi gapes. “H-huh?!”

“Finally warmed up, eh, boy?” The vendor chuckles. “That’s a full score for you, making you even with the little lady...” 

Gabi scowls. “This is so rigged.” She turns on her heels. “Uncle Levi—”

But Levi’s already wheeled himself away. 

For a while, Levi explores on his own, discovering more of the fair and its odd traditions. A face painting booth. A photography stand. Countless food options. It is in the outskirts of the fair, however, that Levi finds his spot. Near the park you and him sometimes visit, a picnic spot with tables has been set up. Vacant, for the most part, and definitely a lot more quiet than the rest of the fair.   

Just the way Levi likes it. 

“Mind if I join you on your quest for solitude?” 

Onyankopon has followed Levi all the way here, a pleasant serenity in his smile. Levi eyes him, then gazes at the glasses in his hands. He nods, and the man takes the invitation with diligent poise; he takes a seat across from Levi, placing one of the cups in his direction. 

Levi slides his sunglasses over his head. “What’s this?”

“Spiced rum. Thought it'd be to your taste.”

Levi hums, taking a small, testing sip. The warmth spreads down his throat, a slow burn that settles in his chest. It's refreshing. “Not bad.”

“It’s better than the alcohol from Paradis, huh? No offense.”

“Why would I give a shit?”

“Well, I don’t know, some people might.” Onyankopon takes a sip of his drink, sighing peacefully. “Maybe I just got unlucky with my nights out, but all the mead I tasted back then was more water than alcohol.”

“That’s ‘cause it probably was,” Levi offers, throwing an arm behind the back of his wheelchair. “The Survey Corps didn’t exactly have access to high-grade booze.”  

“Guess us Marleyan Volunteers wouldn't exactly be on the top of the list even if you had, huh?” 

Levi takes another slow sip, looking at the man with a deadbeat expression. “Well, at least we didn’t give you wine.” 

His jab does the trick. At once, Onyankopon chokes on his drink, followed by a coughing fit that lasts several seconds. When at last, he regains his composure, he shifts, looking largely uncomfortable. Levi’s expression doesn’t waver; he watches Onyankopon squirm in his seat, tracing the lip of his cup absentmindedly.

“Tch, relax,” Levi finally drawls. “That was a joke.”

“A joke. Ah. I... see.”

Levi exhales sharply. Despite poking at their shared past just now, the truth is that Levi doesn’t feel any bitterness towards Onyankopon. Not only did he play no hand in Zeke’s machinations, but Levi doesn’t see the point in holding grudges.

If he did, he wouldn’t be here in Marley.

Levi’s gaze sweeps across the crowd at the center of the square. The air is full with the scent of something sweet—fried dough, maybe.

“Anyway, where’s that husband of yours?” Levi mutters. “Thought he liked this kind of shit.” 

“Tomio? He’s attending a conference in Liberio, actually; he'll be back tomorrow." Onyankopon's shoulders finally relax. “Sure he'll love this fair... warm weather, good drinks, Gabi and Falco being smitten for each other... what more could a man want?”

Levi takes another sip of his drink. “Peace and quiet.”

Onyankopon cracks a smile. “I’m afraid, my friend, that you’re in the wrong place for that.”

Levi barely has time to acknowledge Onyankopon's words before he notices your silhouette in the distance, stepping over the grass blades of the valley, like a strange vision. His thoughts come to a halt, and he stares—stares at the way you cling onto your sunhat so it doesn't fly away, stares at the way the ribbon on your hat flutters in the wind. You wave and, sensing Levi's attention drilling onto you, Onyankopon turns in your direction.

“Adler!” Onyankopon calls out, waving back. As you close the distance, he adds, “I was wondering where you'd gone.” 

You take a seat next to Onyankopon, fanning yourself with the collar of your shirt. With your free hand, you drop a suspiciously large bag of roasted chestnuts onto the table. 

"Where've you been?" Onyankopon asks.

"Oh, um—" Your gaze skims Levi’s face before veering elsewhere. The answer slips out quickly, "Fortune teller." 

“That right?” Onyankopon's brow arches, curiosity curling in his voice. “Didn’t take you for the type.”

“The type to what?”

“To believe in the spiritual.”

“Well, I don’t, not really.” You chuckle nervously. “I guess I was... curious.”

“And?”

“And I’m not sure. Maybe it's not for me, this belief and dogma stuff. No disrespect to you, of course.”

If Onyankopon is offended by your words, he doesn’t show it. “That’s more than alright. Faith is a deeply personal matter, after all. The world moves strangely—I found my answers through my religion; others find it in other ways. I've found every compass that leads you down your path to be worthy." At your silence, he tilts your head. "So, did she foresee anything interesting?" 

You shrug. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Oh?” 

You offer the bag of chestnut, elbow resting easily on the table. Levi takes one, but he doesn’t crack it, just fiddles with it between his fingers.

“What," Onyankopon jokes, "did she hit you with the good, old ‘you’re about to meet the love of your life‘ type of thing?" 

Levi narrows his gaze. “The hell kind of fortune is that?”

“The kind of words some people want to hear,” Onyankopon answers him, before raising an expectant brow at you. "So?" 

Feeling their heated attention on you, you reach for another chestnut and begin to peal the shell off. 

"Uh... not exactly," you say nervously, tossing the shell and taking a small bite. “Truthfully... I don't know why I even bothered. I already know who I am and where I’m going.” A pause, almost imperceptible. “Sort of.”

“Whatever you heard," Levi grumbles, "there's no truth to that hogwash." 

"Right..." You laugh weakly, glancing at Levi briefly, only to look away almost instantly. "... no truth to it." You pull a strand of hair out of your face. "A-anyway, help me finish these, would ya? I think I may have overestimated myself here. I'm gonna end in a serious food coma at this rate." 

As Onyankopon obliges you with your request, Levi goes still, turning that same chestnut in his palm. His instinct tells him there's something more to this conversation, but it's not for him to ask. He decides to wait for him to stare back at him. 

You never do. 

Instead, you steer the subject to other matters, glancing periodically out at the sea. 

Levi's brows furrow.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in much the same manner. You play a game of cards, while you and Onyankopon gossip about the villagers of Mare. Soon enough, Gabi and Falco join, and more rounds of drinks and food are shared, including Falco's coveted ice-cream. Later, you and the kids even partake in more fair activities—with a grin on your face, you bring home a new toy for Scout. 

Now, several hours later, as Onyankopon parks his car in front of the house, the mood is high. In the distance, the sun is setting, a ripple of lavender blossoming across the sky. There's a gentle breeze in the air, the kind that feels like silk on the skin. 

"Geez, I'm sorry, miss Adler," says Falco, "your hair!"

On the drive back, you and Falco shared cotton candy, and judging by the clumps of pink in your hair, some of it got caught on accident. Now, as you attempt to pick remnants of it out, Falco apologizes profusely, while Gabi, Levi, and Onyankopon watch. 

"Falco, how many times do I need to tell you?" You snort. "You can just call me Adler, without the formalities."

"Well-" 

"Why d'you prefer people to call you by your last name, anyway?" Gabi asks, staring at you curiously. She's got a giant teddy bear in her arms (one of the many prizes her and Falco won); she briefly shifts it around. "It's weird."

"Gabi," Falco reprimands, "that's rude,"  

You wave a dismissive hand. "It's alright. Well... I don't know if I have an answer for you, Gabi. That's just what everyone always called me, so it's stuck."

Gabi throws the teddy bear over her shoulder. "Weird." 

"Enough of that," Levi interrupts, narrowing his eyes at everyone. "Onyankopon's just being polite, but he wants to fuck off already." 

Onyankopon, who up until now had remained silent and leaning against his car, blinks in stupor. A few seconds later, he barks out with laughter.

"That's not how it is, promise," he says. "Though Levi's not wrong in that I should get going."

You smile, turning towards him. "Thanks for today, Kopon. T'was lovely."

"And we have plenty more in store ahead of us."

"Heck yeah!" Gabi cheers. Falco's gaze softens the moment she looks back at him. "More prizes for us to win." 

"We'll see about that," Levi mutters, eying the teddy bear with scrutiny. "At this rate, you'll need a whole train to haul everything back." 

And just like that, the first day of the Shooting Star festival comes to an end. 

.

.

.

“What are you doing?”

You watch as Levi moves his black mare into the stall next to your horse’s.

“Ness’ orders,” is all he says, glancing at you. The weight of his eyes feel like they alone could unravel you. “Should I tell him no?”

The stall used to belong to your friend. Now that she and her horse are dead, it’s been vacant these last few weeks.

Another reminder of your grief.

Staring at Levi, you shake your head slowly, telling him to stay.

.

.

.

“You sure you don't mind sleeping on the couch?” 

Levi gazes off to the side. By now, the night has set. He's sitting on the porch, enjoying a warm cup of chamomile before heading to bed. You've joined him, clad in your nightgown, hugging a cup of warm tea as well.

As you sit next to him on the bench, Levi makes a point not to stare at your bare skin, setting his gaze to the sea instead. 

“Stop fretting," he mutters. " I wouldn’t’ve offered if it wasn’t.”

Despite Gabi and Falco now being an item, you'd been strict the moment sleeping arrangement were discussed: under this roof, they'd sleep in separate beds. Which is why Gabi is already fast asleep in your room, while Falco occupies Levi's one-person bed. 

“Stop feeling guilty, it’s better this way,” Levi adds. “I get up early. Don’t want to be stuck waiting in my own house.”

“But your back—”

“I’ve slept there plenty 'fore.”

You don’t look entirely convinced, but you stop fighting him. For a while, neither of you speaks. The porch creaks quietly under your combined weight. Beyond the garden, the waves murmur softly against the shore.

“They’ve grown up so much, huh?” you murmur. 

“Still brats.” 

Your lips twitch. "Still brats." 

He watches you from the corner of his gaze. Your hair is down, still wet from showering. Levi smells hints of something floral from your shampoo, and he tries not to linger on it. He’d be lying if the scent wasn’t already ingrained in his brain. 

(Some nights, it weaves into his dreams: Flowers and you. You and flowers.) 

“You’re not still thinking of that fortune teller, are you?” he asks.  

You blink slowly, like you didn't expect this topic to be brought up, least of all by Levi. "I... How did you know?"

"I've still got one working eye." 

"Well..." 

Before you can speak further, Scout leaps onto the bench. She’s got her new toy (a green mouse) in her mouth. She drops it by Levi’s side and nudges his arm until he scratches behind her ears. The purring starts immediately.

“Do you wanna know why I decided to go to a fortune teller in the first place?" you huff half-bitter. "It's gonna sound ridiculous but... it was because of Gabi and Falco. Seeing them all bright-eyed and dumb and in love, it got me thinking."

Levi keeps silent. You take that as permission to go on.

“I guess that’s why I overreacted earlier. Falco and Gabi… they know they've got each other, you know? And it got me thinking about all the other versions of me, I guess. If I’d made different choices... If I hadn’t picked up a scalpel. If I’d stayed home, or gotten married, or… been someone else.”

Levi's throat is suddenly a little thick. He's never heard you talk like this before. "Are those... things you'd have wanted?"

"I'm not sure." You smile, but there's nothing uplifting about it. "I know, I'm not making any sense right now. It's just... I feel like I'm grieving for versions of me that I probably wouldn't have wanted anyway. But being here, surrounded by all this time and peace and possibilities... it's been harder than I thought it would be. It's made me question everything I was so sure of."

"So you decided to go to a fortune teller?" Levi asks skeptically. 

You chuckle. "So I decided to go to a fortune teller. In the end, they just repeated things I already knew."

There's a gleam in your eyes that's slightly bitter. 

"It's funny. I wanted to believe I didn’t need those things. That I was above all that." You pause, breath catching. "And now...”

Silence fills the air. Uncertain, like the endless possibilities that might follow. 

“And now?” he pushes.

Your eyes flicker to Levi, then to his lips.

Levi's breath stops. 

You glance away. "Now I find myself wanting things I shouldn't." 

"... like what?"

"Like being in love," you say with a frail chuckle, fixing your curled fists on your laps. "Or being, you know... loved." 

Levi's heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest. His hands are clammy; he can feel sweat trickle down his back. Scout shifts in your lap, curling her tail around your wrist. Her slit pupils are still fixed on Levi, unblinking.

“Do you..." You swallow loudly. "Do you ever wonder about such things?” 

Levi's is reeling from this whole conversation, the tips of his ears growing hot. Of course, Levi wonders. He wonders about you. But to admit this out-loud would mean voicing a desire that's not his take. 

It would nothing at all.

And everything. 

"I don't." 

His words come out final and certain, despite being the opposite of either sentiments. Another pause follows, one where Levi's certain his heart must be about to leap out of his chest. 

In the distance, the sound of the waves is distant and muted. 

“Funny, isn’t it?" You snort. "Ten years ago, we’d have laughed at ourselves for having this conversation.”

There’s a weight in your voice, matching the heaviness now blooming in Levi's chest. 

“Sorry for being all over the place, lately," you add. "Don't know what's gotten into me." 

"... S'fine."

Despite Levi's assurances, you seem to grow more agitated in an instant. You push yourself out of your seat, brushing dust off your nightgown. You're not looking at him—again. "Well, I'd better get to bed before I confess my darkest secrets to you, huh?"

"Wait." 

You glance back at him, the night catching on the side of your face where the scar curves soft and silver. For a moment, you don’t look quite real—just light and shadow, just something Levi might’ve imagined once upon a time. 

Levi's mind is swimming. 

Don't go, he wants to say. Tell me everything you’re afraid to want. Fill the space with all the words you wish to say. 

Instead, Levi looks away.

“Don’t lose sleep over this, Adler,” he mutters. “Rest is precious.”

A serene sigh, followed by the softest words. "Goodnight, Levi." 

Then you're gone, and Levi watches the space you left behind. 

That night, the scent of flowers lingers.

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[auragasmics]

A NIGHT IN OUR PAST!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ synopsis! Banquet Night, a time of class, grace, and digust. When invited to the yearly banquet hosted by tokyo’s elite, you and toji step into a glamorous world that hides remnants of the past you both barely survive. When the memories start rolling in and emotions of the past run high, who will crumble to the feet of the elite first, or will love light a way out for these two?

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ pairings! ! widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ ˚ ₒ ∞ cw! ! 14.6k words, dubcon, pwp, age gap (toji is 35, reader is 27), use of ocs, mention/talks of death, hints of fluff, implied anxiety/panic attack, implied flashbacks, use of alcohol, drunk sex(?), power play, vouyerism/exhibitionism, oversimulation, slight dom fem!reader, masturbation, toji hits from the side, fingering, oral(m → f), teasing, multiple orgasms, spitting, no protection, slow sex, implied marathon sex, sorry if i forgot some mwuah <3

˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ˚ ₒ ∞ xoxo, chris! yeahhhhh…if this isn’t the epitome of self indulgent idk what is. thanks to my gracious beta reader @n3vr-f0und (thank you for reading these bricks i send you :3)

tags: @lalunanymph @mikyapixie @prettylvne @dongh9e @humantrashcan2000

m.list. pt. 2. pt.4

ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: M’LADY 

“WHENEVER YOU SEE THIS, 

DON’T ASK ME WHY IT’S DOUBTED. 

JUST TAKE IT WITH THAT SMILE.

PAYMENT: + ¥ 80,000

Again, Toji’s stuck grimacing at his phone screen. It comes with a heavy sigh as he rests his throbbing temple along the tinted glass of the car window. 

It’s his typical trend to gasp, gawk, and mindlessly swipe at the screen whenever a payment from you enters his account but in a month’s time, he’s learned a valuable lesson.

Numbers don’t lie and neither have you.

He’s been under your care for a month, and not once have you failed to honor the haphazard agreement. In truth, Toji’s managed to accumulate 250,000 yen in the short month with you. He’s been thinking about it; He’s saved himself from financial ruin with more money than he could’ve hoped for, so why not leave?

Yet, there’s something worth more than all the money, all the wealth, and all the thoughts he’s had recently.

And that could be found right next to him— you squinting into the small hand mirror carefully swiping on lipstick he knows he’ll be dressed in once the night comes to its sinful close. 

Would Toji say he’s fallen for you?

No, he knew this wasn’t love, not when he’s being paid 80,000 yen to do something he would’ve done for free—should you have asked him with that smile he loves so much. It wasn’t love but lately, Toji’s had his hands full of acquainting himself with every curve, every etching, and every nerve found across your body. It wasn’t love but Toji’s been finding solace in waking up in your bed with you snuggled up in his arms. 

It wasn’t love, but right now Toji can’t help but allow himself to get lost in your artistry. 

Beautiful, that’s the only word Toji can use when he’s at a loss like this. His azure irises hinge on your precocious care for detail, watching as you softly trace the curves of your lips in red.

So slowly does that shade of rouge melt upon your lips, as if nothing else outside the backseat of this car speeding down the Tokyo interstate matters. So mindful not to miss the thinning corners of your mouth too, ensuring that your grace permeates every inch of your being.

Toji’s thinking about what you’d possibly do once you drop the brush from the canvas, would you turn and grin at him out of that childish sense of accomplishment? Would you mark him with a kiss or two like you always do? Every artist signed their painting, and it’s due to you that Toji can break into the world he’s never known—or the world he barely escaped from. 

Right now, he wouldn’t mind donning an extra accessory for the night. Just to walk into the room with your lipstick as a badge of honor that shows everyone in that room who he belongs—

“Toji!” your voice pulled Toji from his mediated fantasy.

Jolting awake from his wondrous thoughts, Toji nervously tucks his phone back into the breast pocket of his black suit before giving you his attention. 

“Hm? What’s wrong, Baby?”

“This,” you sigh, dropping the small compact mirror from your face. Levering your neck, you turn to Toji for his thoughts. “Does this shade of lipstick go with my dress? I think it’s too…cheerful.”

“Isn’t that what you wanna go for? I mean, it is a banquet. Drab and depressing isn’t what I think of when it comes to events like this.”

“Ha!” you sneer, “Banquet amongst Japan’s elite. I rather sit at home and count how many times the street lights flicker.”

The flat of Toji’s palm coats your thigh, his pulsing grip teasing past the leg slit of your brown mulberry silk grown. “So…it’s boring? I’m sorry Princess, but ‘m just a little confused. Last month, you were all excited about gettin’ dressed up and going out, but now you hate it?”

“I don’t ‘hate’ it, I hate the people we’re about to encounter. Tokyo’s elite, remember? And…it’s the first time I’ll be showing my face in some years. But it’s just for barely an hour, then we can go—”

Toji found his way beside you, nuzzled at your side with his chin resting along the peak of your bare shoulder. He’s peering at you with heavy eyes, weighted by dreams waiting to waltz through his mind. His voice mirrors his new form, his deep voice softened by comfort. 

“Tell me about these people you hate so much.”

There’s a longing breath that curls in the back of your throat, your lips twisted and pursed as you gather the best words to present your heartaches to Toji.

“These people…they’re heartless. They care only for their money and status, as if they too didn’t come from humble beginnings. When my husband and I were first invited to these events, I was just making my name as a business consultant and he was just making rank as a CEO.

And on that night, I’ve never met such a bunch of disgusting, rotten people. The men hound the women, and the women hate each other. Nothing is good enough for them, there’s always a complaint.”

“Yeah?” Toji echos, “So then, why are we going, Princess? It’s like we’re going straight into trouble. Not that I mind that—there’s always an adventure waiting—but it’s not your style.”

You drop your sights to meet Toji, his gentle-mannered stare washing over you with relief. But that glance you pay him comes with a heavy price—that bubbling urge to kiss his tepid smirk. It’s a need you could act on, but there’s a shrouding guilt staining your mind, one that you can’t ignore: 

Your ex-husband.

The memories are still there, fresh in your mind. Even now as you vaguely speak on his name and legacy, it’s almost like he’s here, holding you in his arms, watching you with a smile on his face, playing the role of spectator to your timely crime.

It’s an act of betrayal in your eyes, in your gut, yet this longing to kiss Toji reigns with an iron fist over your will.

But it’s Toji who has you tucked beside him now, and he’s the only one listening to your dolors with attentive ears. He’s giving you all—the attention, time, and energy. Whether it was genuine was his concern alone, nothing for you to ponder, that conversation being between him and the universe. 

For now, he’s here with you, taking in every word you say with a look of interest. He’s even tagging his palm to your waist, keeping you close to his side. He’s turning himself into a place of solace for you, which has you itching for more than just his attentive nature. 

All the cards are present and in your favor—but the guilt of upheaved tradition denies the relief of giving into your desire.

You bear it with a harsh swallow, your eyes fluttering shut as you work to finish your explanation. 

“Be-Because…as the wife of the former CEO, I’m now the unseen face of the company. I have to handle all the social affairs, to tend and mend relationships. Being here…going there to dine with people I despise…it’s all for him. And I intend on keeping all his hard work alive and thriving.���

“Aren’t you a good wife? Most men would travel through heaven and hell if it meant they would meet you in their next lifetime. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let anyone look or speak to you wrong, especially when they have no clue of the burden you carry on your shoulders.”

He’s straightening himself up, sitting tall beside you from his slouched state. And of course, he’s still forgotten the mere idea of space, the pad of his thumb reaching to swipe along your powdered chin.

“Fuck…” Toji whispers, his sly smirk drifting dangerously close to your lips, “You’re just a good girl, after all, Princess.”

There’s room for mockery in his tone, something that has you waving off his favor with a shrug. “Stop it, don’t try to baby me, Toji. I—”

“ ‘m not trying to do that. Not in the slightest. I admire it, honestly. You don’t need my sympathy, and I wasn’t offering it up. Just take my praise and let it be, alright?”

Hesitantly, you accept Toji’s words, shooting your narrowed eyes to scan over his impartial mien. 

“…Alright.” 

Toji’s latent apology is a mere stare, his typical gaze eased by a nurturing glint. He's tentatively squeezing at your waist, luring you into his salacious trap.

His suave nature has your mind dizzy with everything Toji—his gentle smile, his warmth, his cologne wafting past your nose. He’s done nothing to you, yet that suppressed craving is flickering once more and it has you diving blindly into Toji’s stronghold. 

Until the perfect excuse presents itself.

“Toji, wait! I’m all dressed up and it was a pain to get this!”

“Shhh, just giving you a kiss. I wouldn’t dare to ruin all your hard work. And besides…” He trails off, tilting his head towards the tinted glass wall separating the driver from the blooming scene.

“He can’t see a damn thing.”

“Fine,” you huff, “Just a kiss, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

“No, I said just a kiss—”

Toji steals the last words of your warning as his own, sealing them away behind a soft peck. 

Though his fingers ache to strip you bare, a kiss is truly all Toji tends to leave you with. He’s considerate towards you, aware of the fact that your lips are dressed up in the similar fashion you carried yourself for the night. He doesn’t dare to bite at your bottom lip, to slip his tongue along your own, he simply presses his kiss slowly onto you.

“See?” he grins as he pulls away, “Just a kiss. Told you I wanna keep you looking nice.”

“But I think I changed my mind,” you tease, pushing your eager lips back onto Toji’s gaping awe. The care you could almost thank him for flies right out of the window as your greedy tongue traces the caverns of his mouth. 

You’re just so delicate, taking the time to study every inch of him before working a shy coil around his tongue. It’s nearly as if you’re treading a careful line too, holding back from what you know will pass.

But that won’t stop your hands from roaming along his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles from the silk black lapels of his suit jacket, tugging at his collar, all for your touch to find the comfort of cupping his rosy cheeks. 

He takes heed with a smothered smirk, offering a lengthy response through unspoken language. But being the man he’s sworn to be tonight, Toji can’t let you show face with swollen lips, smeared lipstick, and wrinkles spouted all over your dress. 

To depart from your adoration chips at Toji’s heart, but he does so with a parting gift. His teeth, pearled and strong, generously nip at your bottom lip as a courtesy to his exit. But he doesn’t draw too far, just enough for his shaky breaths to cloud your skin. 

He tethers onto a smug smile to huff out his rhetorical thoughts, “What happened to being classy, Honey? Now your makeup’s gonna be messy ‘nd–”

“I don’t care about that. Any of it,” You lay out flatly, biting down on the present Toji plucked onto your bottom lip. “It’s nothing we can’t clean up in the bathroom, right?”

Toji kisses his teeth, using his grip to squeeze at your waist, “Nasty girl. As much as I'd that, and I really hate to ruin our moment, but I think we’re here so…here…”

Reaching beside you, Toji grabs the discarded pocket mirror and tube of lipstick for you. With what gap exists between you both, he presents the tools with a soft tilt of his palm.

“Go on, I’ll hold your mirror for you…for a price.”

“A price?” You press, lurching back from Toji’s hold. You accept the silver bullet from him, tugging off the cap before placing the red velvet tip to your pout. 

“Mhm.” Toji blindly nods. He’s already absorbed into you, his hounding gaze following your careful hand once more.

“When you’re done, kiss me on the cheek. Just to…make sure it’s all dried, y’know?”

All you offer Toji is a sharp squint, “Is that right?”

“Yup, riiiight here,” Toji beckons, tipping his jaw towards you. 

A sigh seeps through your lips, but you cave at Toji's request. Pressing your dressed lips along Toji’s cheek imprints the mark of deep crimson upon his fair skin.

“There, how’s that?”

Toji greedily turns the mirror on himself, his eyes gawking at the pretty signature you’ve given him. 

“Perfect! Wooow, red looks good on us, Princess,” He chuckles to himself. Toji shuts the compact in his grip, leaving him to pin his sights on you. 

“Well, ready to eat, breathe, and drink like elites?”

“Oh, Baby,” you playfully coo, your hand sitting along his thigh, “We already do.”

That’s all Toji needs to hear before he reaches for the door handle, pushing the heavy black car door open. The sidewalk’s concrete cracks beneath his feet as Toji stands from his seat, his hand reaching back for your own.

“Careful, careful, don’t step on the dress…” Toji chants as he guides you out of the backseat to stand beside him.

His concerns bring a giggle to ring from your lips as you thank him, softly squeezing at his linked grasp. Though, you find your attention set onto the building before you—standing at easily 30 floors high with what you made out to be an open rooftop on the top floor. Through a bushy squint, you noticed flickering lights dancing from the rooftop, pulling a sigh from your bundled chest. 

“Yup, just like ‘em. Partying on the top floor like the gods they wanna be,” you mutter under your breath. 

Stress wasn’t a good look on you and Toji needed a way of breaking that tension quickly. 

Toji didn’t need another word, he knew he had to ease your worries fast. Lacing his arm around your hips, Toji adopts the role of an attendant, using slow steps to lead you inside the building. He steals a look at you, and he’s met with a clenched jaw and twisted lips. 

“We’re gonna have fun tonight, ‘kay?” He assures, “Just go in—hey, wha-what do you eat at these things anyway?”

“Oh, a mix of everything. Native food like sushi, sashimi platters, and beef. Some foreign dishes like curry, or stew to call it something fancier, some other stuff. They serve oysters here sometimes—Oh, desserts derive from France, so things like that. But you can see some local items like parfaits, cakes, and red bean dishes too.”

Toji simply grins as you speak. He’s got you so invested in rattling out food, you didn’t even notice his intention of distracting you. Just his luck that it’s working. That list of potential menu items brought you both through the grand lobby of marble walls and columns, down the winding path of red carpet, and into the awaiting elevator leading upstairs

As the elevator doors shut, Toji pulls you into him once more, his fingers tapping at what curves lay within his grasp. He takes a moment to look around the small chamber with curious eyes—and down to your heavy stare cast upon him.

“Ugh, your lips are a little red, Toji. Want me to wipe—”

“Don’t bother,” he shrugs, “ Now you can’t go around calling me your “friend”. And I’ve got all the proof.”

Your brows weave a knot of confusion, “So you had all this planned out?”

“Pfft, ‘course not,” Toji swiftly shoots down, “Listen, don’t worry about any of that. You’re my lady, that’s it. And besides…I like being covered in your kisses. Is that so wrong?”

“I guess not—”

The soft ‘ding’ of the elevator doors rings through the speakers rip you and Toji out of your safe haven, and the growing sliver of light from the retracting doors seals your fate for the night. 

Toji rushes to assume his role as your escort, taking your dainty hand into his calloused palm. 

As you laggardly stroll out of the elevator, Toji leans towards your bejeweled ear with a whisper.

“I’ve got you, Princess. Keep a smile on your lips and no matter what…you’re here for a reason. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

You keep your eyes pinned to the beckoning glass doors, but your focus doesn’t hinder how a smile crowds at your lips. 

The marble flooring dons the honor of bearing the first step you take into the busy room. People, crowds of the recognized and deemed distinguished, scatter about the hall, cradling dainty glasses to their chest. 

And one of these “recognized and deemed distinguished” has your name rolling off their tongue. 

“Ah, isn’t it the lovely lady we’ve all been waiting for!” The voice calls out.

The curiosity prompts you and Toji into a standstill, his hand softly squeezing your own. 

“Not even a minute inside and you’re already getting hit on. Tch, don’t forget about me, alright?” He smirks, passing a teasing wink onto you.

You roll your eyes, scoffing at Toji’s playful taunt. “Please, nothing but old men have their eye on me. But, that voice…it sounds so familiar. If I’m remembering properly, it belongs to…him.”

Your pairs of eyes fall short of the approaching figure, your nose wrinkling at the unfortunate realization. 

He's a stout man, with tanned skin, black hair sprinkled with stands of salt and pepper, and his lecherous gaze hides behind the glare of wire-framed glasses. Few wrinkles dress his face, aside from the heavily contoured smile lines around his thin, pink lips. 

He’s no taller than five-foot-seven, dressed in an all-white suit with a gold tie tucked behind suit lapels. He keeps a cane in hand, clutching at the polished brown stick modeling his laggard trail. 

And when he flashes you a smile, there's a gold tooth that floods your mind with a single name.

That man is…Dr. Sai Yusuno.

“Who’s this old man?” Toji whispers into your ear.

“Dr. Sai Yusuno. He used to be on a board with my husband. But when he passed, this man has been nothing but persistent to court me. He asked me out a week after the funeral. Hah, guess someone couldn’t wait,” You hum while maintaining your smile as Dr. Yusuno urges closer.

Toji keeps his hold over you, drawing you into his side once the unwanted presence comes to stand before you both.

“Oh…Dr. Yusuno! How…nice to see you this evening!” Your pitched voice feigning innocence as you bow your head. 

“Oh…I didn’t know you’d taken someone new,” Dr. Yusuno chides, sucking his teeth as he scans Toji from head to toe. “So…who is this man?” 

“Oh..um…he’s my—”

“Toji Fushiguro,” Toji introduces, keeping his head held high. “She’s my lady. That’s all that needs to be said, if we’re being honest.”

“Hmm…,” Dr. Yusuno pauses for a moment, “Toji, you say? That name sounds similar. Are you from a cl—”

“Oh! Princess!,” Toji blurts out, “I think I see your names over there, let’s go get comfortable.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod, giving into Toji’s lead. “See you later, Doctor!”

Leaving Dr. Yusuno behind, Toji guides you to a chair at the end of the long dining table, allowing you to explore the rest of the banquet hall.

In your sights, you’ve found the bar standing in the corner, the staff working hard to feed thirsty patrons their desired dream for the night through shaken or stirred drinks. 

Above hangs a grand crystal chandelier, the chiseled gems cutting the pure white night into a lively kaleidoscope of rainbows across the banquet floor. 

Marveling the lavish space with wide eyes, you mumble to yourself.  “It’s beautiful!” 

Toji’s abrupt stop drags you out of thought, the sudden appearance of the dining table catching your eye.  “Here you are, Princess,” he hums, pulling you from your thoughts. He works swiftly to tug out your seat from beneath the black tablecloth. 

You find yourself reading a small tented card, the white paper wearing your name in gold characters. 

“Thank you, my good sir,” your giggling flirt satisfying his ear as he pushes you in gently. 

Toji falls to his knees beside you, bracing your thigh for support. 

“How was that? Said hi and now it’s just some food. If you like something enough, I’ll cook it just for you,” he grins, the polished apples of his cheeks drawing his marked skin taut.

You trace the faded kiss on Toji’s cheek, inviting a doddering frown to your face.  “Aww, I think the kisses are fading away.”

“That’s fine, Princess. But when we get home…I’ll be expecting ten times the amount you gave me.”

Before you can craft up some sly response to his innuendo, Toji rises back to his feet and over to the seat across from you, where his own name awaits his arrival.

“Aw man, I feel so fancy!” Toji chuckles as he slips into his seat. 

“It’s kinda nice, right? And we came just in time, dinner’s coming out!” You note, pointing towards the budding sight of servers carrying plates into the dining room.

Like moths to a flame, all the socialites work to end their conversations as they drift into their assigned seats, making new discussions with those around them.

You’ve set your eye on the man before you, whose scarred grin captures your attention with ease.

“What’s that smile for?” your head slipping into a faint tilt. 

“I know these types of events. Stuffy people, but the food’s great and there’s high-quality booze on rotation all night. Plus, I get to enjoy all this while courting the most wanted woman in the room,” Toji chuckles as he folds his arms over the table. “Aren’t I just the luckiest man in Tokyo right now?”

He’s an arm’s length away and that’s still not good enough. 

While there’s a growing tension weighing on the minds of you both, nothing compares to the story written behind the doting stares you set onto each other. With your dilating eyes pinned on him, batting your blackened lashes ever so slowly with that small smirk creeping onto your features. 

He’s no better, the poor man hiding his satyric ways behind the act of mindlessly tracing along the supple curves of his lips with his tongue.

All the chatter, all the screeching chairs, it all drowns out around you and Toji. Nothing dares to break into your world—except for the commencement of the dinner service. 

“Pardon the intrusion.” The presence of a young man pulls you and Toji from each other, the pair of steady eyes watching him place a gold plate before you both. 

“Tonight, we have for you both slices of seared beef, smoked salmon, dusted with truffle oil and masago. Please, do enjoy,” the server slowly announces for you and Toji. 

“Wow…” the dull excitement speaks for Toji as he carefully observes the plate. “Where’s the rest of it?”

You slowly unravel the folded cloth napkin, hiding a laugh behind your focus. “These things are multi-courses. We’ve got like…10…15 small dishes like this to go. But we can go get something to eat after this too, I’m usually hungry after these things.”

Toji simply nods as he turns to face his plate once more. He stares hard at the delicate trims of meat before him, reaching for his hidden fork within the napkin. ‘At least it’s the high-quality cuts,’ he wonders to himself, bringing the gossamer trim of meat to his mouth.

As the gentle chew rings in his ear, Toji takes a moment to observe the room’s sudden shift.

Chatter breaks around the dinner session talks of business and affairs break from each end of the table. Not a single word matters nor interests Toji, not when he’s seeking out your due attention once more.

His sapphirine tincts wash over you, and instead of being greeted by your allure, he’s somehow satisfied with watching your newfound interest in the paper-thin strip of beef sitting on your plate.

Though he’s taken to you as his newest attraction, his ears are keen. Ears like this are carefully trained to hear even a pen drop in a room like this, and even with such skill, immunity from the talks of the elite isn’t granted unto Toji.

“…Oh! Have you heard who’s taken up the role there now? I heard he’s nothing more than a moron trying to fit in amongst the best.”

“Such a poor man. He’ll try so hard to win over the shareholders, but he’s just so useless.”

“Useless? An animal would have better luck than him!”

“No, but have you heard of the newly elected president of XXXX?”

“Ha! I did…he’s no better than a dog. So worthless, how dare he accept the position? Does he think he’s worthy? He must be thinking he can sit in some company and just gain status like us! Disgusting!”

All this talk surrounds Toji, filling his ears and penetrating his firm psyche with such cruel ideals. To critique a man is one thing, but to ridicule his name without any consideration for his character, his actions, his morals—why, that simmers on Toji’s tongue like poison.

He’s gripping his fork tightly, his knuckles dusting a ghostly white. He can’t explain what’s brought about his sudden shift in manners, but it’s unnatural for the man he’s become.

His eyes flicker to you for guidance, but you’ve taken to some light conversation with the woman beside you, whose questions seem true and modest.

Toji’s left to rely on himself, his spiraling mind coaxing him to bite down on his lip—he wants your aid but he deems his fragile thread of composure is nothing worth interrupting you over. 

Yet, these words still sit uncomfortably familiar in Toji’s ears. Not a single word aimed at him, but the message behind them pulls at memories he’d buried years ago. But all it takes for his mind to crumble is the utterance of mere affirmations…

“He’s worthless!”

                                    “He’s not worthy of what we offer.”

                        “He’s better off dead…”

“He’ll never be accepted here!”

               “Born a failure…and always will be a failure.”

His heart races in his ears, channeling a cold sweat to sweep across his body. He can’t even focus on you anymore, not with his eyes senselessly blinking away the threatening patches of stars. 

Slipping a finger between the apple of his throat and the pesky collar button of his dress shirt, Toji yanks the tied cloth from the back of his neck in hopes of fresh air flooding his hitching lungs. He tries to cast his gaze elsewhere, though, in a room so vast, how could the walls suddenly close him in, trapping him in his plagued mind with spinning thoughts? 

 Memories replay in his head with the very words in the air as a soundtrack. He can’t figure out why these exact words would come to haunt him years later?

Dead? Was he really better off dead? He hasn’t heard such heartless words since his younger days, why—how could strangers know about his anguish? Why would strangers speak to him like this, judge him before his character can attest for him? Why…why…

Why would a family speak to their own like this?

There’s only one thing on Toji’s mind, and it’s the one thing he knows all too well: escape. He has to put some space between him and the dinner, and he’s already plotting his next move.

Toji’s weary body shudders as he stands from his seat, his mind stumbling over his ingrained words of manner.  

“Um…I-I…Excuse me.” 

His words fall short on the ears of others, but the loud shriek of his chair scraping along the black tile commands the attention of all in the room.

“Toji?” You mouth out his name, but his eyes hang low—low and blurred by his nerves.

His exit fades out as the idle dinner chatter picks up once more. His brisk steps toward the patio are drowned out by taxes, how well the beef has been marinated, and worse of all—the ridicule of Toji’s “childish” need for attention. 

The look on Toji’s face was like nothing you’d seen from him before. He was pale as if a ghost had just tapped his shoulder. And the very confidence you found yourself fond of was replaced by a quaking fear, one so heavy he couldn’t even keep his head held high.

Guilt shrouds your mind, and it’s a heavy cloud that threatens all the confidence he’s worked to instill in you. That very guilt–the need to balance your mind with comfort…his specific comfort. Without a moment’s delay, you rise from your seat, the similar screech of your seat ringing through the hall. 

“Excuse me.” Your announcement halts all chatter, all gossip, and all means of communication falling short of your cold tone.

The clicks of your heels dart across the glossy floor as you tread toward the balcony. 

You find him leaning along the stone-carved railing, gazing out at the city’s skyline. To ease the mood, you mark your next steps carefully, creeping behind him with light steps. 

But Toji doesn’t even have to turn his head to know you’re there. 

“Don’t go hiding from me, you know I’ll find you, Princess.”

Dropping the charade, you join Toji’s side, leaning into him with a hand bracing the tensed sleeves of his suit. 

“Then I’ll never be lost with you. But…”

Your touch laces onto the frazzled hairs covering Toji’s eyes, lazily raking through his onyx locks. 

“That means you can’t go hiding from me either…what happened, Toji?” 

Toji’s attention from the overview doesn’t seek a replacement, his eyes dead set on the passing nightlight below. “If I tell you, it’s not like it’s gonna change how I feel. And it’s silly anyways, nothing you need to stress yourself over.”

“Toji,” you coo “If your feelings don’t change, that’s okay. And if you think it’s silly, that’s fine too. But…I can’t help but stress with you. So don’t tell me, I won’t force you. We don’t even have to talk, we can stay out here all night, looking out over the city.”

Toji sighs as his head drops, “You care too much for me, y’know that? Most people would’ve let me be. But here you are, on such an important night…babysitting me. I think we’re making each other soft, yeah?”

“That’s fine with me, as long as I’m with you, right?”

Those words had no business slipping from your lips, but they did. By uttering something so dangerous to Toji—your sentiments of care to him—all he can do is gawk at you.

His jaw’s sunk slack and the words he wants to say fall short on his tacked tongue. He wants to ask you why give him a second of your time. His outburst might have cost you your reputation and relationships. And you could be inside, tending and cleaning up whatever tension that might have been sparked—but you’re outside with him as your only muse.

That’s what he aims to say, but his heart has him rattling off something he can’t—rather, something he won’t try to bite back any longer. 

“All this…fancy dining, sitting and talking like this…it reminds me of a life I barely got away from. I hated it—those people treated me like their mortal enemy. All my life until I was old enough to leave, living in hell became my home..”

You lean into Toji, resting your chin on his shoulder. With a weighted gaze, you peer up to Toji through your lashes, and the very words that roll off your cherried tongue break down any wall he had left standing tall towards you. 

“Tell me about these people you hate so much.”

Toji finds the energy to scoff, the choked chuckle cracking through the crisp air. “Horrible. Because I didn’t meet some standard they made up in their heads, I was a castaway in my own family.

Having to work myself to the bone, proving myself to people who didn’t care if I dropped dead right at their feet. And having done all that work, just for it to be thrown back in my face when it came time for dinner. That cycle…no one should have to go through that.”

“Some days, death seemed like the best option. Better than putting on a brave face that mattered to absolutely no one.”

“What kept you from ending it all then?”

“Hope. It’s a stupid thing. But the hope of knowing it all might get better saved me. If I had given in to all that hatred and become what was expected out of me, giving up would’ve been worse than dying. But all the scars you love to touch, that’s both from the hell and freedom I’ve lived through. The scars of freedom, however…they never once hurt me.”

“So then,” you begin, carefully gathering your words, “Was it all worth it?” 

That’s when Toji committed himself to you, his body shifting to face you. He’s got his eyes pinned on you and you alone, his ears tuned to your gentle coo, and his heart open to sing its long-awaited melody. 

“...Yeah. It all…it all brought me to places I couldn’t begin to imagine, to meet people in my wildest dreams. It’s been a crazy one, but I wouldn’t regret a single moment. But, I have to say this one thing, or else I’m gonna lose it…”

Toji stares at you for a moment in silence. His eyes scan every curve of your face for what he wants to discover as a hoax, but all he’s met with is the kindness of sincerity. Sincerity dots your eyes, in that soft smile you hold, and touches every strand of hair your digits comb through. 

Sincerity is a rare trait for a man like him to encounter and when he does…it becomes something he has to question.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

Reverting back to his old self, Toji stands tall with his hands briskly searching for your waist as his keepsake. He’s back to grinning, drinking in that sudden gasp you give when he encompasses your body flush to his own. 

“You just…sat there and let me talk your ear off. None of it affects you, yet you seem like you actually care. So…why?”

“Why do I care?” You rehash, fixing your arms to link along the broad of Toji’s shoulders.

 “I care because that’s what I’ve come to do with you. You care for me and I care for you. And I’ll be honest, it’s scary…caring for you like this is going to give way into something I can’t afford just yet—but I won’t stop it. So yes, talk my ear off. But I want to listen, I want to know whatever you’re willing to let me know about you because…that’s how much I care for you, Toji.”

Toji ghosts a peck against your lips, breaking his sentiments with a speech. “Well, aren’t you the poet? Thank you, really. You’re learning just how to calm me down and I like it.”

“Don’t thank me, I just want you to be okay. So we don’t have to—oh Toji?!” You yelp as he begins to lead you back inside. His hand slips into yours, tracing your gentle palm with his grazing thumb. 

All Toji gives you is his back, hiding the flourishing spout of blush curling at the tips of his ears and the highs of his cheeks. He’s almost forgotten: he’s the luckiest man in Tokyo to have you. And with such a title means he has one single job: to keep a smile on your face at all times.

 “Don’t go and worry your pretty little head off. Let’s get back in there and enjoy ourselves!”

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀  ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀  ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀   ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀

“Mhmm…Toji?” you huff, tightening your slinking arms along his shoulders.

“Y…Yeah, Baby? Whatcha’ wanna tell me?”

“Are we home yet? I wanna go to sleep with you.”

Toji chuckles as he peers down at you, his pretty lady cradled resting like a princess in his arms. 

Replaying the night in his head, he’d call every minute of it a success. After the heart-to-heart out on the balcony, you and Toji went back into the party as if only you two were there. 

From sharing sips of the finest aged wine and brandy, finishing out the dinner service, and sharing a dance that ended with you and Toji swirling about for an hour pressed to each other, all the makings of a night to remember. 

But with every night out, the fateful comedown is never too far behind. 

When the adrenaline wears off, tummies are full of food, and the liquor’s finalizing its course through bodies, the whimsy of the night comes to a curtain-falling close.

As for this timely scene, Toji’s taken on the role of caretaker. And as a caretaker, that means ignoring his hazy brain and tired muscles to carry you out the car and inside your apartment.

Beneath the dull glow of the street lights, Toji steals a glimpse at you, gawking at how a sense of ease dresses your visage.

Beautiful, that’s the only word in his mind as he admires you. Your eyes gently shut, your timid lips faded from their red hues, your puffy cheeks soft and begging for a kiss.

 In his eyes, you look perfect in his arms, resting in his care without a care. That’s his lady—a woman he’s finding himself endowed to with each passing day.

Living carefree, as Toji’s learned, is a right that belongs to everyone. To wake up, do whatever you please, and do it all again the next day. And while living carefree is deserved, it’s a word that carries various definitions. 

In his definition of carefree towards you, Toji would work to strip your mind of all the grief, stress, and responsibilities that come with your world.

But when the morning comes, you’ll be back to worrying, making phone calls that hold materialistic value, and working to the bone–while Toji continues living carefree on your dime.

What a life.

Toji aimlessly presses a kiss to your forehead, charming himself back to the present where your question awaited an answer. 

“We’re right outside the door, silly. Then we gotta take the elevator up, take off this pretty dress, wash your face, then you can go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“But…I wanna sleep with youuu,” you draw out, your eyes widening at Toji’s lack of involvement amidst his own plans.

“Alright, alright,” Toji sighs as he taps his hip against the lobby’s door sensor. “Stay up and wait for me. I gotta help you, then I gotta help myself. So after all that’s done, then we can sleep. Sounds like a deal?”

Pushing yourself deeper into Toji’s hold, you nuzzle your cheek against his burly chest. 

“Deal.”

Entering the quiet lobby, Toji rocks you in his arms as he treks to the elevators. A night full of dancing, drinks, and questionably small plates leaves him with a dumb smile plastered to his lips. 

And to end it all right, he’d finally be able to sedate all his concerns for you within a matter of minutes. 

Though, the call of his name impedes his plans. 

“Oh, hey Toji!” the night doorman calls out with a wave.

Sho Hisagari, the nighttime doorman. Standing at six feet even, he’s a gentle giant with a strong build that hides behind a black uniform jacket. He’s got sharp brown eyes, dyed blond hair that sits just short of his ears, and a soft, crooked smile that’s kind to the eyes of all. 

During the day, he’s a college student entering his final days of graduate school, and at night, the twenty-five-year-old collects a check watching the night of Tokyo pass by.

Toji’s quick to recognize him, considering that he’d been the mediator to bring Toji up to your doorstep a month prior. 

He looks over to greet Sho with a lax smile, “Hey kid, how’s the night going?”

“I should ask you guys,” Sho chuckles as he leans over the desk. “I’ve never seen her drunk.”

“Oh, this pretty lady?” Toji hums as he glances down at your serene face.

“She wanted to drink some wine, then some martinis, a few cocktails, and I got to thinkin’ ‘ Who am I to keep a grown woman sober?’ So I made sure she didn’t overdo it and ended up getting some sake and a few cups of wine in my system too. But, someone had to be the responsible one. She’s always the strong one, so why not let her enjoy this?” 

“She is strong, isn’t she?” The doorman breaks, Sho steadily focusing his sights on you. 

The sudden interest in you has Toji intrigued. He carefully studied Sho, how his brown eyes hang over your dozing face. It’s a familiar gaze—a look that brings even the strongest, unmovable, and rigid of men to dote on their muse. A look that softens the eyes into a trained whimsical glint, leaves the lips and jaw lax for the gasps or gape to roll out.

A mien that seems so familiar to Toji because he dons those exact traits whenever he too is entranced by you.

And while Toji had no reason to feel that lump in his throat swell, his harsh swallow barely chips at the growing resentment. 

It’s such a pure look in his eyes, but why does it look so…so…natural on Sho?

As if he’s trained his eyes to look at you like this?

“Well, I’m gonna go and get her in bed. Have a good night, kid,” Toji mumbles before entering the elevator, leaving Sho with a solemn nod. 

“Night, Toji! Tell the miss’ I wish her a good night too!”

Toji could only count the seconds before the doors shut, leaving him alone with his sleeping beauty wrapped up in his beastly arms. 

His cobalt hues flicker down to your timid visage, and all the anger that threatened his eventful night was wiped clean the moment you began to stir about in his hold.

“Toji?” your weakly rasp, your pinched eyes squinting at your suitor.

“Hey, Baby. Thought you went to sleep without me for a sec,” he teases behind a growing grin.

You simply shake your head, hands coming to rub your strained eyes beneath the piercing white lights, “I thought I heard Sho’s voice. Wanted to say hi.”

“Huh…” Toji trails off. “You like Sho?”

“Mhm,” you nod, He’s nice. He gives me flowers, takes me out to lunch, and sometimes when I can’t sleep. I’ll go downstairs and talk with him for a while.”

That taints Toji’s mind like ink bleeding through a scroll. He’s overrun by hypotheticals and probabilities, trying to make sense of what your sentiments towards the young man might be.

He didn’t expect to uncover such a rich history between you and the doorman, yet he has no choice but to absorb it all for what you’ve shared. 

Toji has half a mind to seek reassurance, his mind already sorting out the indirect questions to pry at your own sentiments towards him.

But…he stops.

All thought, all the plotting, it comes to a screeching halt when your words at the balcony replay in his mind. Those sincere words that sat on his ears like the sweetest hymn from a siren. 

Upon reciting your soliloquy in his head, Toji peers down at your softened features with the very look he envies Sho for wearing.

He can’t blame the guy, he was falling for you all the same—all because you care. You take the time to show your adoration for others, the words only act as a seal to what’s already known. 

Maybe, just in some random universe that happened to be his own, maybe it was lov—

“...Are we home yet?” you groan, pulling Toji from his thoughts. 

The chime of the splitting elevator doors welcomes you and Toji back into the humble abode, the familiar dark scene of the living room draws Toji inside. 

“Look, we’re in the living room. Now, let’s get you in your room and in bed” Toji hints as he begins his winded strides down the dark hallway. 

He softly nudges the door open with his hip, revealing the night-clad oasis to his eye. The faint twinkling rays of moonlight cast upon the red duvet of your bed, drawing Toji to put you to rest.

“Okay just lay there for a—”

“Toji.” you call out calmly, your blurred gaze setting on him.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Folding your hands along your tummy, you rally the energy to turn towards him, a weak smile curling onto your lips. “I’m feeling better, trust me. The room’s stopped spinning now, just a little tired, but I’ve got some energy.”

“Okay, good!” Toji beams with a bright grin, “If you can sit up, I can bring...”

Toji’s offer falls deaf on your ears as you sit up slowly, shifting hands sinking into the soft red duvet beneath your body. Tilting your head back, you stare aimlessly at the ceiling, the miniature glass chandelier returning your starry gaze.

In theory, Toji's done a great job; he kept you company, made sure you arrived home without a hair out of place, and he's even going the extra mile to put you sleep too. you've arrived back home in one piece

However...something's missing from the night, from his usual antics.  He's too princely, acting so pure when he's the farthest thing from.  He was insistent on being classy for the night, but did he really means the whole night?

Even after he kept pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks alike, pinning his hand to your side, and even whispering about how he'd love to take you down out of some cups of wine.

And he has yet to act on any of the hints he planted. Now, here you are, just on the verge of greeting the setting night and he was still too kind with you.

There simply has to be some word, some action, just something you could call upon to rouse all the desires he's pushed aside for the night...right?

“Princess?” Toji croaks as he stands before you. He takes a tender hold of your jaw, the pad of his thumb grazing along the softened contours. “Talk to me, what’s got you so down?”

“I’m okay, really. Just…a little disappointed is all.”

“You? Disappointed?? No no no, how can I fix it?” Toji hums as he drops to his knees. He tends to remove your heels, tugging the tiny clasp free from your ankle. 

“Okay okay, ‘disappointed’ is a little bit of an exaggeration. Tonight was fun…but…”

“But?” Toji repeats, his hand coasting along the peeking curves of your thigh. 

“I won’t lie, I was expecting for us to sneak off for a quickie or something.”

“Yeah?” Toji breathlessly chuckles out. “You were really waiting for that?”

“Mmhm,” you nod, tugging your bottom lip between a smothered grin, “That’s why ‘m not wearing any panties.”

The sweet smile Toji taped to his lips withers away beneath a slack jaw and widening eyes. First he’s pale, the draining palettes of shock claiming his lush skin. You’ve grown bold, something he’s taken note of, but he wasn’t prepared to handle this. 

Somewhere in his stunned sights, he falls on the cut in your dress, the slit freely bunched up to your hip. He swallows hard, blinking at the realization: you’re sitting all too pretty with your cunt waiting for him.

That’s when the prickling sear of heat licks at his cheeks, a cloud of pink spreading across his gawking face.

“Like…uh...allll…night?”

“Don’t believe me?” You giggle as you slowly drape your leg along Toji’s shoulder. You bear witness to his final threads of sanity snapping as your dress drips off your skin, revealing the results of a one-sided gamble.

“Check for yourself.”

What visibly seals Toji’s fate as he hunts for a shed of fabric is the languid spread of your legs…just enough for him to see the delicate webs of slick sewn to your folds.

“See what you do to me, Toji? All that teasing in the car, touching me all over the dance floor, it’s all for you. And you let your so-called ‘lady’ walk around dripping and this is all you can say?”

“Oh fuck…” he’s shuddering, swallowing down the hindering lump in his throat. “Princess, i-if you wanted me to—”

“Don’t apologize. And I know you wanna fix things too, but I think, for tonight at least, I’ve got things under control.”

“No, let me make it up to you, “ Toji pleads, “W-What…do you want me to do?”

“Watch me.”

“Watch you?” he presses with a quirked brow, “Watch you do—”

You cut Toji’s question short carelessly, “Mm, Toji, help me out. Can’t keep my legs at the same time.”

Toji’s stare is heinous as dark clouds threatens his sights. You’ve got the nerve to sit there and wait for him as if he’s holding you back. He has the words boiling at the tip of his tongue, ready to fire off his rebuttal.

He picks the latter, Toji locking his firm grip around your thighs. The hold he has over you is unyielding, not granting an inch of room for any second thoughts.

He’s even spiteful enough to drag you right to the edge of the bed, forcing your hips to tilt toward his awaiting mouth. 

“How’s this?”

“Just like that. Now keep your head riiiight here.”

Your lithe fingers sit atop the charcoal coronet of Toji's head, veering him to rest his cheek along your inner thigh. He doesn’t fall to hesitation either, merely falling to your whims with the same daunting stare.

You’re hurting his pride, turning the man into nothing more than your pet. To sit there and take orders, listen to your every fancy, and be expected to act on them without fail. You almost feel bad for him in a way too, considering how you can watch his patience grow thin with how he clenches his jaw. 

But then again…it’s precisely what he signed up for. 

“You’re such a good boy, Toji. You know exactly what I want without me saying it. Starting to understand me more…”

Again, you descend on a journey, tracing the curves of Toji’s flustered features until you find a ledge worthy of your touch—that cute quivering pout he wears proudly. 

His lips feel plump against the pads of your digits, such supple skin brimmed with a soothing heat. Toji’s still sitting beneath awe’s influence, flustered and shy. 

You take to the idea brewing in your brain, especially when there’s something so delightful laying behind his lips. Your ghostly touch sedates the brimming heat of his pout, that mere swipe a lulling famed whimper from his mouth. 

“C’mon, baby…don’t keep me waiting…you always know exactly what I want.”

“Do I?” He sarcastically scoffs, but his remarks don’t go unnoticed. 

“Yeah, you do. I don’t have to say a word, I know you’ll give me what I want.”

Just like that, Toji’s lips part to welcome you into the caverns of his mouth. His tongue’s swift to coil around your digits, basting your skin in his spit to his heart's content. He’s given himself to lust, sloppily working his lips until soapy bubbles seep out of the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy!” You purr as you reel away from Toji’s swollen lips. All that connects you both is a wispy thread of glass, serving as evidence of your time together.

Your dripping digits sit right between your legs to paint your cunt in his shade, fingertips dragging glossy webs along the pink pearl.

Your hand falls into a tantalizing sway, drawing messy circles about your clit. It's a slow start but you’re quick to respond to your own touch, rousing the dormant nerves with haste.

It’s the heft of arousal that suddenly douses your bud in a searing heat that drives you over the edge, your hand adopting a frantic pace. 

“D-Do you see what you do to me, Toji? 

There’s a reveling heat blooming amongst your core. It’s all-consuming, so overwhelming that every bit of your strength surrenders to you. Sinking back down onto the bed, Your enticed spine spikes into an arch, forcing your hips to bear the heft of paradise alone.

But Toji’s right there to help you; wedging your thigh atop his shoulder, hands clipped to your rocking hips. 

He’s sitting there with a pout on his face, the flat of his tongue sketching over his lips. Each time you swipe over your clit, Toji’s thinking about what he’d do instead. He’s the one who knows your body like his own, so watching you work so hard splinters his pride by the seconds. He can’t take it, watching his poor baby enjoy such shoddy workmanship. 

“Just like that, Princess, you got it.” All he can do is support you through words, his touch, and the kisses he’s peppering along your inner thigh. 

He can’t surrender his gaze to anywhere else. He can’t complain, can’t intervene, so he simply takes it. He takes it while sitting enviously on his knees, gawking at the sight of you bathing in that sweet ambrosia. He wants nothing more than to touch you—so badly that it hurts him in mind, body, and spirit. 

 You know how bad he wants to touch you too and just how much restraint it’s taking him to play the innocent act. And all that knowledge is the very thing that pulls a spiraling heat to flood your tummy. 

You want a reaction from him, to hear him ridicule your poor technique. Excitement captures your entire body as you begin to draw out Toji’s true colors with a wandering touch. You slide a single finger between your folds down to your quivering hole. 

The manner you take to tease your rousing core is gentle, paddling your sweet spot beneath tender strides. Just off that calm touch, you’re melting into your touch. With Toji being the one handling your needs as of late, you’ve almost forgotten the thrill of chasing your own high. 

But that sense of bliss quickly turns to thirst, a ravenous urge to feed that heavy pit in your tummy. You swiftly invoke a jagged cadence, drumming at your spot feverishly. You’re working so hard that the stack of bangles on your wrist erupts into a cheery jingle, voicing the hymns of your pursuing finger. 

“Mmm…f-fuck,” you whine, drawing the glossed finger from your cunt. 

Toji’s eyes staple to you, a burning gaze that overlooks your polished digit tapping along his bottom lip. He isn’t waiting to hear permission, he simply can’t bring himself to wait a moment longer. 

He envelops your fingers between his lips, the flat of his tongue cupping along the digit. Toji’s swift to clean up your mess, the slicked muscle twirling at every inch of your skin dressed in your essence. 

“So needy…C’mon, spit on it.”

Toji’s eyes widen at your request, his shot pupils darting to meet your gaze. He’s mulling over your question, using every ounce of his strength to think clearly. Did you really just ask him to spit on your—

“Aww, what’s that look for, Baby? Didn’t hear me?” you taunt, ripping your digit from his mouth.

“N-no, no…I-I heard you. I-I just...uh—“

“Shhhh," you whisper, placing a slicked finger against his rambling lips, “I’m waiting…”

A muffled moan snags itself within Toji’s throat as he slowly leans in. His quivering frown just grazes past you, closing the distance for the tears of spit he’s dying to glaze over your sporuted mound.

 You’ve gotten so wet, dripping from the sad display he’s born witness to. He doesn’t want to spit on your clit, he’s dying to taste you, to create an abstract mess out of the swollen bud. 

But he does as he’s told without fail, his puckered lips pushing out sticky rivets of spit. His stares stays pinned to you as he observes the messy trail whisking down your folds.

“Fuck… pussy’s so pretty like this,” Toji mutters to himself as he pulls away to admire his finishing touch. 

He’s right, your cunt does look so pretty being pushed to the edge—the glistening pearl of your clit consumed by a waltz of shivers, your puffy folds dewed by your essence and his spit, and your cute little slit flittering for attention. 

Somewhere in his murky mind, he’s thinking about it: how you’ve finally elicited his help without having to lay a finger on you. 

And to think it’d be so lewd, so messy—and just perfect for a man like him. The thought doesn’t just stop with the mind, it’s feeding his cock with all sorts of ideas too, condemning his bulge to strain against his pants. 

You slip your hand between the sloppy mess of Toji’s lips and your cunt, rubbing the soapy bubbles of spit to meld with your slick.

“Just like that…n-now, don’t stop o-okay?” you moan, driving yet another finger to fill your walls. Lazy pulses rip against your piqued nerves, engulfing your pussy in a ravenous flame. Your thighs suffer beneath the force of your inevitable undoing, immersing your suspended legs into a world of tremors. 

“ ‘m gonna cum! gonna–I’m c-cum—"

A flash of white breaks over your eyes, stars dotting your sights. Curses spew from your lips as that knot in your tummy finally snaps. It’s all too much, your saturated body succumbing to the consequence of reaching nirvana. All you can do is toss your head back and grit your teeth, your hands racing to fist at the plushy blanket beneath you.

In the peak of your heat, Toji settles a peck between your folds, a poor excuse to satisfy his need to taste you. 

A sly smirk creeps onto your lips as you come down, fixing your misty eyes to study the shameless kisses he’s pinning to your swollen pussy. 

Your hands slip into the ruly forest of Toji’s hair, combing away the frazzled locks from his face. 

“Look at you, couldn’t even wait.”

The route Toji endures to have his tongue bathe in your essence is dangerous. He’s so reckless, disregarding your sensitivity just to sedate his gluttonous desires. He’s savoring the fruits of your high, the mere taste blurring his unmoving judgment. You’re just so sweet, so sticky and so addictive like honey but venomous once you seep upon Toji's palate.

But he’s using every drop of that venom to soothe his soul, regardless if you can supply him or not.

“W-Wait! Toji…s-slow down! I jus’ —fuck!—came!”

Toji breaks himself from you, painting your flushed cunt in his hot, patterned breaths. He doesn’t meet your stare, his eyes trapped to the corked swell of your clit. “Sorry, baby. I’ll be gentle…and so fucking gentle, I swear."

Whether he meant it for your ears or not, Toji couldn’t tell you. But that won’t change his resolve. The resolve that bleeds through the dripping tongue he swathes against your folds. He’s working his jaw to bear those long, pampering strokes of his. 

Those long, pampering strokes that trail up from your gummy hole. 

The lazy, careful drags that skims against the pulsing channel of your folds. 

His gentle laps that cling to your spry knob just because it feels so damn good to soak up the beating heat that leaves your clit so puffy and cute.

“Oooh—shi– Just…hah…just like that, Toji!”

He has your body running hot, your stirred nerves sparking underneath your skin. He’s simply dragging his tongue against you, so how can something so simple risk pulling another orgasm from your core?

He’s honoring his words too, using soft laps to soothe your poor bulb. But that doesn’t stop the twitches that litter your weak legs, that arch driving your chest into the air, and the mindless drivel spilling from your gaping lips. 

“Mmmm,” Toji whimpers as a ‘pop’ ricochets from his mouth, “I wanna suck it, Mama. Please? I’ll be soft too! Just let me suck it, ‘kay?”

“Th-then go ahead! I’m not gonna—oh fuh—Toji!”

“Mhmm,” Toji hums as the whites of his eyes flicker behind his squint. If there’s one thing he’s grown to attach to, he’s grown too fond of sucking on that clit of yours.

Something about having the cute pearl swell up between his lips that plays on his senses a little too heavily. Just the thought alone has his mind wiped clean of anything that wasn’t your moans, your writhing body, or the looming orgasm he has to bring over you.

It’s sheer vigor that graces him to lure your clit between his quivering lips. He has to coax you, earn your trust before delivering ruin right to your feet. That’s why he’s ever so kindly pedaling the tip of his tongue against you, lazily winding a mindless path around the bundle of nerves. 

Every languorous lash of his slicked muscle weakens your resolve—a fact he can see with the naked eye. Your hips tell him all he needs to know, rolling along with his rhythm. 

The power of the unspoken is a great one, and because of its strength, Toji is able to move on with his plan. One that allows him to gradually reel back that curling tongue of his, letting his lips plant fluttering kisses as an apology for stealing back what’s rightfully yours. 

A whimper tells him you miss it, but the pecks he’s baking at your core aren’t for naught. Not when he’s easing you in, blanketing his lips over your clit until all he can do is cling to the silky button.

So fragile, it’s the opposite of his entire persona, demeanor, and even his way of life. The polar opposite of him, but Toji wears delicacy like a glove when drawing your clit into a churning toil. He’s nursing you with the kindest of care, suckling the spry nerves into a pudgy bloat. 

“F-ff-fuck! I‘m gonna cum again!” you squeal, your thighs knocking against Toji’s head.

He doesn’t curse. He doesn’t chatise you. Toji merely slips his hand from your waist in exchange of bracing the silky plush you’ve crowned upon him. 

He could stop, Toji knows that much. But hearing your cry out like that—you’ve abruptly fueled some hidden agenda of his to push you over the limit. Just how loud can you scream his name? How many times can you cum before you’re a fucked out mess? All these questions contaminate Toji’s fleeting mind, and he’s dying to answer each and every one tonight.

“Go ‘head, I can take it, Baby.”

He means every word. He’ll handle everything to come with you; the good and the bad, all the pain and the pleasures, he’ll take it all with a smile.

Your orgasm is a heavy burden to carry, costing you every ounce of strength in your reserves. The familiar flash of white crosses your eyes, dashing in front of your sights for a single moment. Like the thrill of lighting cracking through the sky, your body holding strong before the crumbling curse washes over you. 

The looming heat at your core surges across your body, from the balls of your curled feet to the fading reality in your head. Your jaw drops slack by a muted cry, and all you can do is give into your body’s coiling instinct without delay.

Toji’s hands are foreign to you, but it’s the only source that brings you down as he softly taps a wayward tempo along your flushed skin.

 “Oh, that was beautiful, Princess. But, I hope you can keep up that little act…we’re not done here.”

As you pull the words from your broken thoughts, Toji’s swift to reach over you, his hunkering body casting a shadow upon you. 

“Toji?” you mumble out, squinting at his face with blurry eyes. 

“You started this. You gotta finish it—and if you don’t…well, you might regret it.” His warning comes with a hint, one that lacks the grace of subtly. Because in Toji’s mind, the hint he has for you sits right against your inner thigh, his thick cock hidden behind a shameful bulge. 

Perching upon your elbows, you close the distance between you and Toji, leaving just a sliver of the room’s heat to separate you both. 

“I’m going to regret it? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to scare me, Toji. I told you already, try all you want…you can’t break me. Besides, if I choose to let you go to bed like this, who’s truly gonna regret it?”

“Only one way to find out…” the final words marking the room’s sultry atmosphere as Toji captures your lips with a kiss.

He keeps his rhythm purely surface—soft, gentle, gliding his kiss against you like the finest silk. He doesn’t dare to, not when he’s already dizzy off those small whimpers you let sink into his mouth. 

It’s so gentle that it’s almost hypnotic, the soft curl of Toji’s lips passing over your own. He’s leaving you wanting more, the impulse to trace his skin burning at your fingertips. However,  the obstacle of clothing hinders you—but your hands move quicker than you can think. 

Nothing could truly explain the way you labor across Toji’s towering body; tugging off his suit jacket, unbuttoning his dress shirt, yanking at his black slacks until he was free of all clothing, and the loud clunk of his belt and shoes joining the floor. 

But you do it all while the fervour of his gentle kiss stews at the forefront of your mind.  

He could say the same, unsure of what skills allowed him to strip you of that dress, tugging off your shoulders, down your legs, and off onto the floor with such ease—but he did so anyway. 

He did it all while relishing the heat of your lips on his. 

And maybe a kiss does hold such mind-numbing powers, to subdue lovers to its binding will. As much as you rather push off such a ridiculous thought, the evidence lies with you and Toji alike. 

Why, it must have some influence over those who dabble within its magic because the next time you blink, you find yourself laid on your side with Toji’s bare chest tucked along your spine and his bicep as your pillow. His hooked arm outlines your chest, pitting him to knead the silky fat of your tits. 

He’s peeling away from the sin of your kiss down to your exposed neck, peppering pecks along the velvety tract of your throat. Just because he’s broken from your lips doesn’t mean he’s stopped sipping from lust’s cup. His hands, wide, firm, and blessed with fingers so thick, take on the honor of roaming your body. 

Those husky hands that cup your tits, kneading at the pillowy flesh until your pebbling nipples slip between his windowed grasp. 

Those stout fingers that lazily caress your curves, the pad of his thumb feathering along your skin. 

There are so many whimpers that don’t mean to pour from your lips—but they do, shamelessly and unfiltered. He carries the art of delicacy, Toji’s treating you under the fear of breaking you. But his efforts only spur you on, guiding you down the path that he leads. 

Those stout fingers that lazily caress your curves, the pad of his thumb feathering along your skin. A hot, rousing channel that erupts beneath Toji’s languid tour of your body. His touch smolders over your skin, coaxing every nerve to greet him without fail. 

His path ends just short of your thigh, his reach slipping to coddle the supple underside. 

“Hold your leg back,” Toji instructs, dragging his hand to cup the back of your knees. Carefully, he replaces his brash grip with your kind, tender hands, pinning your folded leg just short of your chest.

“What are you doing?” you pry, skewing your head along Toji’s chest. 

His hand slowly glides along the front of your body, squeezing at whatever fills his rough hands. His trail lands him right before your sopping cunt, his shaky hand dusting past your puffy lips.

“...Tch, n-nothing. J-just wan..n-na touch you, that’s it,” his trembling breath mutters along the thumping pulse of your neck. 

The moment Toji’s confidence allows him to dip into the viscous mess of your pussy, a hiss cuts between his lips. You’re dripping, your slick dressing his touch before he’s even landed a tap on your puffy pink pearl. Suddenly, there’s a stress on Toji’s mind that warns him of the impending doom set to befall him. 

The doom of him cumming too quickly.

It’s an issue he’s never had until meeting you. He still remembers the mess your sputtering pussy drowned him in back in that dressing room. But this doesn’t even compare to that first time.

He could only imagine how you’ll suck him up this time, how sloppy you’ll be after a few rolls of his hips, how he very much could end up creaming your walls white—

 “Oh fuck…” he groans at the thought, his hips bucking along the small of your back. 

Precious anticipation that has Toji taking his sweet time to trace through your folds, up towards your clit, and down to your entrance. You tug at your bottom lip as he drifts over your hole at last—but deliverance like this doesn’t come with the flick of a wrist. 

Rather than fulfill your every wish, he’s taken with the idea of thumbing at the fluttering ring, the tips of his digits just nicking at your knotted hole. 

“Don’t tease me, just do it alread—”

Just two fingers. It only takes Toji slipping past your sticky slit to ruin your pussy beneath that burning stretch. He’s sinking into you, your cunt swallowing every bit of Toji’s fingers. He’s down to the hilt with you, so far gone that he has no choice but to adorn your sweet spot with his hooked reach. 

“Hah, omygosh—fuck, Toji!”

“Thaaaat’s it! Oh, you feel that?” Toji taunts as his wrist flicks against your splitting cunt.

All he’s met with is your breathless gaps, your mouth hinged by a gape. He’s got you right where he wants you—speechless and needy—and that’s exactly when he plans to strike.

And Toji can’t help but savor every passing second. 

“Aww, why can’t you talk to me, Baby? Told you I just wanted to touch you…’nd it’s nothing you can’t handle…”

There’s a timeless look that settles on your features, one that Toji can’t help to admire with a ghastly smirk. The look that has your gaping mouth webbed with spit, dewy eyes screwed shut, and your threaded brows weighed down by a crease. All he’s done was fill you, nothing more and nothing less. 

“Toji, Baby, please! I-I can’t—I can’t take it!” 

Toji’s chuckling along the shell of your ear. All that sass, and you can’t even keep the charade you—it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. But that’s his princess, always making a mess he’s just a little too willing to clean up. 

“I’m not one to tease, Baby. You know that. You make me wanna go harder, so ‘m not playing when it comes to you,” he hums between the wayward kisses he plants along your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck you, Toji,” you wince, hips flinching at his curled fingers. 

“Yeah?” he purrs, “Then c’mon, I know you feel that dick begging for you, so do it then…fuck me, Mama.”

His taunt comes with the relentless drive of his soiled fingers, bullying your sweet spot with brash toils.  He’s trying to be kind but when you start clenching down around him like that, he’s faced with having his way with your squelching pussy. 

His wrist picks a brazen droll, driving up against your honeyed walls however he pleases. All his efforts reward him with a ring of white to brandish his twirling digit—and bring you onto the cusp of what might just be another wave of ecstasy. 

You’re shaking, thrashing about in his hold for mercy from his punishing touch, but Toji’s doesn’t even grant you a lick of freedom. Not when he’s so insistent on keeping you close, his hunkering body seizing you in his grasp. 

“Toji, wait! I don’t think I can cum again!” you hysterically sob, bracing your body for the weight of yet another orgasm. 

“Oh, but you can, Princess, “ Toji’s quick to reassure, “Just not now.”

Leaving you with one final curl of his fingers, Toji swiftly reels his glossy digits from your heat. 

Toji embellishes a pumping fist around his length, lathering your slick down his shaft. His hips ride against you, bringing the head of his cock to rake between your sloppy folds. 

But that’s all he does, simply dragging his twitching cock aimlessly. He plays it off, but the throbbing veins that dust against your clit tell you how he’s barely hanging from a sliver of thread. 

You had the chance to ridicule him, call out Toji for his bullshit—but who were you to say a word when something so easy like this was throwing you into ruin? Each time he pulls back, that brewing heat in your core pines for him, inexplicably desperate for his fat cock to spread you thin around him. 

You dip your head along his chest, catching sight of his crumbling exterior. He’s breaking, the man you once knew is now replaced by his shadow self. He’s a panting mess, his fair skin claimed by heat’s red tinge, and those midnight blue eyes are clamped shut. Toji’s dangling at the edge with his feeble attempts of euphoria, as if the solution to his issue doesn’t lie right between your legs. 

“Tojiii…” you call out, earning his lowly grunt as a response. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

“H-h…hm?... Think you can take it, Baby?” Toji sighs as his forehead rests along your temple. His eyes peel open to find you staring right back at him, that precious dreamy gaze binding him to your every whim. 

“Mhm,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “I can take it.”

Excitement gets the better of Toji at the sound of your voice. All knowledge of his feeble states flees from mind as he races to align himself with you. One brash snap of his hips sends his cock wedged between your fluttering walls and his mind snapped in two.

“Fuck…” Toji’s trembling against you, painting the peak of your shoulder in hitching breaths. All he’s accomplished is plugging you up with the pink-hearted crown of his cock and he's doomed with facing a losing battle. 

With whatever breath he can muster, Toji grapples with himself to fulfill his lone task. No matter how good, how sinful, how tempting it seems, he’s got no choice but to walk down the path of slow and easy if he desires to win this race. 

Inch by painstaking inch, Toji guides himself to fill you. The slow drive of his hips coaxes the fat girth of his cock to simmer along your silken walls. As his eyes begin to roll, he’s groaning at how your pussy’s suckling him deeper. 

There’s something to be noted with how he’s immersing himself in your warmth, how his gentle approach differs from nights like this. Maybe it’s because for once, Toji isn’t rushing to stuff you, he isn’t rushing to make you eat your words. Tonight, he’s got something else on the brain, something soft and gentle.

And with this ‘gentle’ approach, you can’t help slow down with him. You can’t help but notice all the little details unfolding between your merging bodies, like how the heavy underside of his cock twitches with each inch plunged inside of you or how the veins ribboning his length pulse whenever you clench around him. 

You can feel every unspoken word he’s crying out to you—and he knows you can too.

“You feel that, Baby? That’s me…stretching you out like that…nice ‘nd slow, just for you. C-Can I take my time with you?” he’s almost begging as his warm breaths fans along your opened mouth.

“Y-yes…fuck, yes, please!” you cry out, sealing the deal with a sloppy kiss. A kiss so messy that control flies out your hands and leaves you two crashing into one another.

Through the hunger of desire, Toji’s drawn back into exploring your body, intuition guiding what’s blinded by logic. He’s driven by the messy kisses you push against his lips to hold you close, to have his touch become your entire world. 

He knows you like having your hips squeezed, so he does it. He knows you like having your nipples tweaked between strokes—so he does it. He knows you love those deep, long strokes that overwhelm your pussy with sheer thrill, so he does that too just to hear the praise. 

“Yesyesyesyes—j-just like that!” 

“That’s my girl, feels good, right? I kn—shit—I know!” He chuckles, hips mindlessly drawn back for another laborious round. It’s tedious work but Toji’s enjoying every moment of it. Even with his mind so hazy, he isn’t one to overlook how good it feels to have your velvety walls coddling his pudgy length. 

He can’t tune out the lewd symphony playing in his ears either. By guiding his cock to strum your walls, he’s able to give you a solo debut with those breathless notes pouring from your lips. By curling his hips just right, he’s able to coax your pussy into giving him those perfectly viscous chimes that churn through the air. 

And when he’s ready for the finale, all it takes is for that single dip. That single dip that sends his tip to kiss your teased sweet spot sparks every fiber of your being into a raging flame.

 Your mind, broken by the night, is too far gone for the courtesy of announcements. Your body, drained and frail in Toji’s hold, is spent of all precious energy—but that fact alone welcomes the crashing world of your orgasm through you like no other.

Because when Toji did land that finishing kiss, all he’d done was strike devastation upon you both. 

Your legs fall to a thundering close, limbs riddled with harsh tremors. Your hands race to grasp into the robust arms Toji’s tied around you, manicured nails scratching at his bulging muscles. Your spine arches off of his chest, and all you can do is whimper as the ripped tide leaves your body parched and weak.

Toji’s no better when he rushes to withdraw from you, seething out a string of curses at how the cold air bullies his cock. With a fist wrapped to the base, he pulls one final stroke over his length before the rushing spill of white weeps from his raw tip.

Toji cuddles himself besides you, burying his head along the nape of your neck as he bucks his hips into the fat of your ass. 

It’s all too much for him. His vision’s blown white and spotty, his heart skipping beats, and the sweltering heat settling amongst his skin drives him mad. Toji’s desperate for something, anything to ground him.

He’s left to his own devices, scouring around until his findings leave him to cling to your waist. He prays you won’t say too much for the brash act, but you’re the only one he can turn to, the only one who knows how much of a toll his bliss takes on him. 

What he doesn’t expect is you combing back his sweat-sunken hair, your lips scattering kisses along his clenched jaw, and the thoughtful words of encouragement loops in his ear.

“It’s a lot, right? Just let it out…”

“Fuck, ‘m still cumming,” he rasps. He has a song mulling heavy on his heart, all those moans waiting to break free from their cage. With all the restraint he can muster, Toji knows he can’t continue the ruse of choking back the notes any longer.

 And with you soothing his woes, Toji’s resistance gives without a second thought. The heartless, cold shell Toji dons shatters the moment his lips give way with a whimper. Because of you, he’s whimpering, letting his body grieve the weight of his orgasm with you as his lone witness. 

You pull his clipped hand from your waist into your own, swiping at his roughened knuckles with the pad of your thumb. “That’s it, you’re doing such a good job, Baby.”

“T-Thank you, Princess,” Toji shudders between breaths. 

A veil of silence falls over the room, the pair of you finally mending tattered breaths. While silence keeps the scene calm, nothing about your entangled bodies changes one bit.

Your hand can still be found in his, your bodies still bare and melted into each other, even the exchange of soft kisses joins the frame. 

But calmness is a fleeting trait, with the call of Toji’s name summoning a new plot to play out. 

“Oh…Toji?” you innocently coo.

“Hm?”

“Can we go again? Just one more time, please?!?”

A weary smirk crowds upon Toji’s lips as he flickers his heavy eyes over your face—that callow look of batting lashes melting his perseverance. Such a pretty face, and a kind voice, but the nastiest mind.

His chest is still heavy, sweat lathers his skin, with exhaustion claiming him whole, Toji’s newfound soft spot for you curbs him from committing such a treasonous act of denying you. 

“You really wanna go again?” He chuckles, pressing his forehead to your own.

“Mhm,” you nod, pulling your bent leg taut to your chest. 

“It’s gonna be slower than before…”

“That’s fine, I just—"

“You don’t have to say it or explain yourself, Princess…I know.”

It’s just as you said, Toji knows you so well, so much so that he knows that you aren’t after another high—it’s just the sheer intimacy that has you both addicted.

Because for the first time in Toji’s life, he’s finally reached his long-waited oasis through your hands—sensuality.

A place where time stands still for lovers, allowing them to abstain from all that isn’t each other. Where all that’s needed to survive is the heat of one’s body, the synchronization of breaths, and the beating drum of a unified heart. 

That s why Toji has no issue to grant your wish by taking hold of his length once more, his palm greeted by his hardened cock once more. 

Strings of curses rip from Toji’s throat as he works to fill you all over again. The tepid lunge of his hips, the breathy moans slipping from his barred mouth, his hand still clinging to yours as his lifeline—all of which he establishes to be his new standard for taking you. 

He keeps his eyes in line with yours when he finally immerses himself so deeply within your walls, a timeless gasp capturing you both. 

You’re back to smothering his girth beneath a sticky grasp, marking every inch of his cock in your essence. He’s curling up beside you, using his angled hips to reach deeper than before.

You feel so good, you always do but tonight has Toji’s strong-willed mind rolling off the faintest touch.

Sensitivity isn’t a word Toji likes to associate himself with, out of his respect for his pride and ego—yet he’s imbued with the very essence of the word tonight.

Every graze, kiss, even the shallow channel of your breath renders him a quivering, frail mess. He can’t begin to handle it when you pick up a nasty habit of rocking your hips against him, grinding your deepest bliss down against his cock’s writhing bulbous head.

There’s no loud clash of skin, overdrawn cries, or pleas of mercy—there’s just the beautiful blend of skin on skin, keeping each other company through another one of the world’s perilous nights. 

Why ruin you with tyrannical lust when sensuality grants him your warm body melding into his, your every cry sitting like music in his ear, and your touch pulling him into a dream? 

“Fuuuuccck,” he's whining, his stark chest billowed with staggering breaths. “Oh Princess, what’re you doin to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but it’s been burning on your mind all the same. What was he doing to you?

Just off his driven cock, he’s carving at your walls, littering you with memories of how he fits. He’s marking you with every vein, curve, and twitch he carries so you never forget how he’s supposed to feel inside you. He’s taking the time to make you his, inside and out, by focusing on you and you alone.

All this attention on you, it has the gears of your empty brain turning. And then…the unthinkable falls from your lips.

“T-Toji…please…don’t go…”

Before you can even catch the mistake, Toji’s peppering your cheeks with kisses, shushing your words with his boyish smile.

“Shhh, don’t talk like that. ‘m right here and I’m not going anywhere, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, hiding your blunder behind a returning kiss.

Because, of course, you just meant right now…right?