#you're not supposed to stop all at once. it needs to be a slow decent in speed

[bo0tleg]

Maverick and Rooster aren't going to be able to immediately fall back to what they were. They care for each other deeply, and saved each others life on the mission, but this sort of shit needs time. One conversation isn't going to cut it with those two.

Look: I like the idea of them falling back into what they were before just as much as the next person, but that's.... not what realistically would happen. And that's ok! It makes sense for them not to know what to do with each other at the start.

For the record: I'm also not blaming anyone for writing fics about them immediately going back to the father-son or uncle-nephew dynamic because, because come on. It's cute as HECK! I'd just like to think about how to explore their feelings and hang-ups about each other in dept!

They're both stubborn fucks and this has been simmering for far too long for anything to be resolved instantly with a single conversation. Bradley un-learned how to talk honestly to people the day he left, and Mav's scared about what honesty can bring. They've sat on this pot for so long they no longer feel it burning their asses, and forgot what they put in the damn thing in the first place, so they stay there. On top of it. Still burning their asses.

Bradley holds onto grudges like it's a lifeline, and one mission isn't going to change that. He listened to Mav in the canyon because he rescinded what he had said with his actions. Mav said that he 'wasn't ready' but then chose Rooster as his wingman, communicating that he is ready and that he trusts him with his life. But that was a life or death situation that Rooster was both present in and could interfere in if he so chose. He saved Mav because he didn't want him to die, and they seem more inclined to deal with it back on the boat, but it's still a long road ahead.

What happened was they rekindled their care for each other, because neither had ever truly given up on it in the first place. Mav never stopped caring and knew it, Bradley did the same without knowing. This just so happens to be the first time they're forced to deal with each other since the fallout.

Just because they care about each other doesn't erase the history that's separated them for all of this time. In fact, it probably makes it worse.

Bradley thought highly of Mav, and he didn't live up to it. Mav wanted the best for Bradley, and did what he thought would be best. Their problems came from the root of care. And it's more bittersweet because of it.

Because of it, resentment and guilt have settled over their shoulders, respectively, and it refused to go away.

They talk, and they try, but it's still not great.

Mav is inclined to just sweep it all under a rug and ignore the lump it forms on the floor. Because of his guilt, he takes all of the blame and sugarcoats Bradley's part in said blame to try and make up for it. Bradley is just as fault as Mav is, but Mav doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So instead of fixing things, they look slightly less crooked, but not entirely right. It's a 'their problem' not 'his problem'. They're both at fault, and they both need to deal with it.

Maverick refuses to give up any of the blame, and Bradley is going to refuse to take any of it.

Sure, Mav fucked up, but Bradley blew it out of proportions. Storming off and refusing to talk is a normal response, but not for fifteen years. He barely let Mav explain himself.

Everything "wrong" about himself he blames on Mav. He thinks that Mav fucked him up by breaking his trust as his father figure, so he doesn't trust anybody anymore. He thinks that him being completely emotionally stunted and sensitive to critique is Mav's fault because of the 'your not ready' comment.

Thing is, it's his own fault. It's his fault that he's been fucked up for so long because he never tried to fix what was broken. It's not Bradley's fault that Mav pulled his papers, but he threw away everything, everyone he had before because of a single (justifiable!) mistake. And he doesn't recognize it for what it is, and refuses the blame. Carting it all off to Mav instead of dealing with his own shortcomings.

Mav is aware of this (that Rooster refuses to take the blame), but agreed with Rooster in his analysis of the situation, and takes it all on himself, which is not a healthy mechanism for either of them. It pats Rooster on the head for somewhere he fucked up on, and overloads Mav with guilt that shouldn't be that intense and deep.

But they don't know this. So Mav isn't angry at Rooster, because he's blindsighted by his care.

Thing is, I want someone to be angry. I want someone to be offended on Mav's behalf because he himself won't do it. I don't know who it would be, could be a good number of people, maybe even a child OC.

For fifteen years Bradley left without looking back. He left, and Mav suffered. Someone saw that. Someone was there with him all or most of those years, sitting right beside him as his guilt grew with every holiday that went by, with every letter or call left unanswered.

The obvious option is Ice. However, I want to pull away from that option, because if Ice is dead (stay with me now) it only creates more conflict, more nuance to what's going on.

Bradley cut Mav out of his life, and it's implied that he cut out any association with him too. That includes Ice.

What if he never spoke to Ice either for those fifteen years? Ice died. Bradley went to his funeral. Bradley went to his funeral as a fellow aviator, as an underling obeying orders.

Bradley's face in that funeral was blank.

That is the face of a man watching the burial of someone he once could potentially have considered a father figure that he hadn't spoken with for fifteen years. And he's never going to be able to speak to him again.

At that funeral, I don't think he regretted it. Sad, maybe, but no regret.

The regret only hit later.

He got to mend things with Mav after the Uranium Mission and beyond, but that is no longer possible with Ice.

Bradley regretted what he did, how he neglected them for years, but he regretted it too late for one of them.

I think Brad probably ended up at Ice's grave at some point, and owned up to everything he didn't– couldn't– own up to at the funeral. And he fucking sobbed. Begged. Apologized, over and over.

This is the reason I suggested maybe a child OC, because if the child is Icemav's or just Ice's, Bradley's gonna have a warped perception of them. (Note: When I say "child" I mean that it was their child as in gender neutral for son/daughter, it doesn't necessarily mean the person in question should be an actual kid.)

Bradley's gonna see that kid as penance.

And they're gonna fucking hate him for it.

Bradley is going to look at them and see Ice, and they're gonna hate him for it. Their father is dead, and for the last fifteen years of his life he'd never been truly happy because this prick never bothered to own up to his mistakes. Not even at the funeral Bradley owned up to his shortcomings, and now all of a sudden he waltzes right back like he never left? What the fuck!

Bradley could have done this, idk like a week sooner? But he only came to his senses after Ice died. Their father died and Bradley barely looked like he cared is what they're going to think. But all of a sudden, he goes on a suicide mission and almost died and he's suddenly back? Because when his own life is in danger he changes his mind, but when Ice died he couldn't care less? What the fuck!

That man went to that funeral as a subordinate, not as the son he was.

The kid doesn't have the tinted lenses Mav has on about Bradley. All the resentment Mav doesn't feel, this kid is going to feel for him.

Bradley is going to understand their resentment because of Ice, and is going to focus on fixing that part with them, without noticing that the resentment isn't just because of Ice, it's about Mav too.

The kid is going to be pissed because they are not Ice. Bradley is going to be too worried about making it up to a dead man through his child that he's going to neglect the very much still alive man he ALSO has to make amends with.

But Ice didn't have a direct hand in pulling his papers, so Bradley understands his mistake with him (he shouldn't have cut him out over someone else's mistake). Mav, however, did have a direct hand and he's still bitter about it. And the kid sees it. They see him doing exactly that.

Bradley is focusing on the wrong thing, because he's trying to redeem himself in an impossible way, trying to answer to someone who no longer demands it.

He goes after it because the silence is a more comfortable answer than the conflict he's bound to face from someone who's still alive.

In the process, he's going to hurt Mav.

Bradley's gonna be so caught up in making it up to Ice (the one he can no longer make up to) that he doesn't think to properly make it up to Mav (the one he can still make it up to) because he thinks he has to.

Ice is gone. Ice is gone and there's nothing he can do about it. And If he'd just changed his mind earlier maybe there could have been. Admittedly, Ice still would have died, but maybe he'd have died more settled than he did. He'd have died with the knowledge that his son came back. That his son still cared. But he didn't, and Bradley hates himself for it.

So, he veers to the kid. He doesn't outright apologize other than the first time, but he's gonna treat them like either a piece of glass or a carbon copy of his father figure. Regardless, they're going to hate him for it.

It's not them he cares for, it's what he sees them as. They can see straight through his bullshit because there's no deep emotional connection there to blind them.

They could try to care and love for him for Mav's sake, but it'd be much better if it were on their own terms, that Bradley would care for them as them and not as Ice's child.

On top of that, the neglect Bradley has for Mav is humongous. And he himself doesn't see it because the resentment he feels is still there. Mav was the one who pulled his papers. He blames Mav for his own decisions.

He's alone, and he blames Mav. He doesn't let anyone in or near, and he blames Mav. But it wasn't Mav that made him shut everyone out, he did that on his own.

He hasn't thought about why Mav did what he did, choosing to believe what Mav claimed to be the reason. It's blatantly obvious that Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell of all people would never stop someone from going to the Academy because he thought they aren't capable. That's what they did to him, he's not going to do that to someone who is virtually his son.

Bradley was irrational and stuck to that irrationality for fifteen years. He used the emotional stuntedness he himself created as a guise to not actually process what happened. He refused to think about it, and still does.

He and Mav reconnected after the mission, but it's a frail margin. Bradley was more inclined to listen because he's confused that Mav cares at all. In his rage, he didn't notice that he did it out of love, and doesn't know what to do with it. The entire training, he's confused, pissed and uncertain all the while.

He still doesn't know the real reason Mav did what he did, and doesn't understand the love he still sees in his eyes. Rooster thought that he shattered everything he had with Mav when he felt, most of all cemented it with all the time spent in that state.

By the end of the movie, he knows for certain that Mav loves him, and understands that he, himself, never stopped loving Mav either, despite what he claimed.

Bradley wanted to be a pilot because of his dad. Goose wasn't a pilot. Maverick was.

The betrayal hit him harder because he wasn't running after Goose, he was looking up to Mav. He wanted to be like Mav.

And he became a pilot, even when Mav pulled his papers, even after having the person he did it all for ripped him into shreds. He still did it.

He still wanted to be like Mav. Deep down, he still saw him as a role model even through all of the repression.

But he still doesn't know why. He doesn't know why Mav did what he did, because Maverick himself refused to say why.

Mav isn't going to be doing great either. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He shouldn't have pulled Bradley's papers, period. I know about Carole, but still. He should have communicated with Brad about it, and they'd fight about it, but Bradley wouldn't have walked out to never return then.

To worsen matters, Maverick has a horrendous martyr complex that makes him take the brunt of Bradley's resentment instead of Carole, the actual perpetrator.

Over the years, he's blamed himself more and more every year that passed, but I don't believe he ever regretted it.

He fulfilled Carole's last wish. It didn't stop Rooster from becoming a pilot. He gave both of them what they wanted.

But he's trying to protect the Carole Bradley has in his head because he doesn't want to stain his memory of her as he did with himself. This has been discussed a hundred times over, so I will try to be brief.

Mav is scared that instead of him, Bradley's gonna resent his mother. His dying, cripple mother that said that in her death bed. His widow mother who saw her husband die in the skies and didn't want her baby boy to have the same fate. His sorrowful mother that had to watch her friend, someone she considered a little brother, keep going up into those same skies and hear all the whispers the people on the ground flung upon him because of it.

So he took it all on himself. Because he sees himself as expendable in favor of her.

So, safe to say he's not going to be the one to tell Bradley the truth. Because of it, Bradley's resentment is going to continue to fester.

After the mission, Bradley knows that Mav's not telling him everything, but he refuses to talk about it so what the hell is he going to do?

They fix things well enough for them to talk to each other, but don't make it too deep in fear of opening up more wounds instead of stitching the old ones back together.

Mav thinks this is as good as he can get. Bradley is annoyed at Mav's hesitance.

Despite mending things, Bradley is still going to think all of his problems are Mav's fault. And he's a petty bitch, so he won't let it slide.

He hasn't properly processed it due to the lack of information, and can't let go because of it.

He's going to slip in dry comments about how Mav affected his mental health and life because of what he did. He's going to be cagey about everything that happened in the in between. He's not going to know basic shit about Mavericks life because he refuses to acknowledge that he was wrong in more than one way.

And Mav's gonna fucking take it.

He's not gonna say anything, not gonna even defend himself because he thinks he deserves it.

Bradley is a stubborn fuck whose pride has been hurt once, and refuses to acknowledge that it could be hurt again. He's just like Mav when he was younger, but ten times worse in the emotional department (I have no fucking idea how he managed that, but he did).

So yeah, soon enough they're going to be balls deep in miscommunication with grudges held close to their chest.

Maverick wants to communicate but doesn't want to communicate a very important piece of information that could potentially make things better and Bradley straight up doesn't want to if he doesn't have to.

Which means they're going to come to a stand-still. And someone is gonna have to interfere.

If I were to guess, it'd either be Slider or Sarah (Kazansky). Regardless if Sarah is Ice's sister or wife (up to interpretation), she knew how important Mav was to Ice and obviously cares about him too from the few scenes we got of her. Slider also knows, and it's obvious he also genuinely cares about Mav too despite claiming otherwise.

I'd honestly vote for Slider to be the one to do it, simply because he'd also see the Ice favoritism and the Mav neglect, and would pull Bradley's ear about it to hell and back. Because he also knew Goose, and this... entire thing is not something Goose would be happy about, at all. Slider has a much more subdued connection to Bradley, so he'd have no qualms about calling him out on everything.

Especially if he ever found out that Bradley said 'My dad trusted you, I'm not going to make the same mistake.' I sorely believe Slider would end up in jail if he ever heard about that one.

If Sarah were the one to do it, she'd probably be more understanding and much less violent than Slider, but she'd be blunt. That's still someone she cares deeply for they're talking about, and she also saw all of it. She wouldn't sugar coat what needs to be said, but she'd be understanding too. Not you did nothing wrong kind of understanding, but a you had your reasons to be upset kind of understanding.

Either of them would probably do this without Maverick's consent, because that's the only way to get it done.

When Bradley finally comes to know exactly why Mav did what he did, he's gonna be in shambles. Not only for Mav, but for himself.

His entire life has been built around that single happenstance and now it's gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong. He can't go back to being the way he was, he doesn't remember how he was.

He's gonna have to start over, rebuild himself from the ground up to be someone better and spare everyone in his life the suffering. Everyone in his life has suffered the consequences of his resentment. He doesn't know if he can make up for it.

To start over, step number one is apologize.

This right here is were he finally lets his ego drop, and fully apologizes to Mav. Finally owns up to his mistakes to the person that deserves it most. He's not gonna leave Mav be, he's definitely going to demand a full explanation from him and then is going to scold him for it, but he's gonna finally fully let go of the grudge he held this entire time.

That's to say, everything isn't a sea of roses.

Maverick isn't the only person he needs to apologize to, and on top of it, Maverick is probably the only one who is going to let him down easy.

Bradley is going to be on a tight leash with everybody else for a while, and they don't have any hold ups about calling him out on his bullshit. He's going to need to learn how to take critique to improve himself rather than read it as a straight up insult that he's going to get mad about.

Maverick is going to need to learn that Bradley isn't going to up and leave, and that he shouldn't hold himself to such low standards. Not only that, he's also going to need to learn that Bradley is bound to make mistakes just like any other human.

Bradley is still gonna fuck up in some places, but he's gonna be better at recognizing it. Mav's also gonna fuck up sometimes, but he's going to get better at accepting it and moving on.

With time, Mav is going to call Bradley out on his bullshit too, and Bradley is going to do the same when Mav starts doing his 'I'm less important than other people' shit.

They're going to be sad about it because they think that the reason the other does some of the things they do is because of themselves, but that's a story for another time.

They try. That's what matters.

[whirlybirbs]

— NOISE COMPLAINT ; eijiro kirishima ; 切島

summary: red riot feels really bad about absolutely wrecking the shit out of your treasured plants, or eijiro kirishima falls in love at first sight. pairing: f!reader / pro hero!red riot word count: 3.7k tags: mutual pining, fluff/comfort, humor, very gentlemanly make-out, reader is a fan of red riot, mention of ingenium thirst (truth) a/n: kiri might be a twenty-seven year old pro hero in this fic but he is an absolute lovesick virgin who gets all his romantic cues from k-dramas. you cannot force me to think otherwise.

This is exactly the sort of night you needed.

The television, low and quiet, drones on as a deep-dive video on terrariums plays. Your apartment is clean — dishes done, laundry folded and trash taken out. There's a new candle burning on the coffee table, and a Dynamight-themed, cucumber-melon eye mask plastered to your delightedly thoughtless expression.

It's supposed to be good for dark circles. It kinda burns. You wonder if maybe that's, like, part of the gimmick. Y'know. Burns. Dynamight. 

Whatever.

No thoughts. Only the pleasure of turning everything off — brain included — for a perfect Friday night, complete with a mediocre glass of wine and no pants. 

The oversized Red Riot t-shirt clinging to your frame is your favorite. You've had it since college — it's a simple red tee with REAL MEN RIOT blazoned across the front, complete with your favorite hero popping a cheeky, shark-like grin and a double bicep. It's faded, stretched out, and broken in but it's also clean, and it smells like fabric softener and comfort.

This is the life. 

Even Twitter is decidedly pretty calm tonight. 

You're scrolling through your timeline, snickering at your friends' recent thirst tweets over Ingenium's recent GQ Japan shoot when it starts.

Apparently, your upstairs neighbors are home.

You thought those guys were out of town for the week. 

You've had beautiful, silent bliss for too long. The buck stops tonight, you suppose.

There's a shout overhead, then a scramble. Another voice joins the fray, and you swear you hear someone call someone else an idiot. You frown deeply as your eyes trail upwards. You wait, expecting more noise, but unsettling silence follows.

Your eye twitches.

Annoyance tips into a simmering rage.

The apartment complex is old. It's in decent shape, and the rent isn't half bad, but the walls are thin. Your upstairs neighbors have been like this as long as you can remember: shouting, stomping, fighting... Some nights it's like being subjected to musical chairs, modern contemporary tap dance, and experimental sound drum solos all at once. 

Your first week was the worst. You dragged yourself up the back to knock on their door and politely negotiate some silence — but the man who opened the door was less than pleased to have his little dude-bro circle-jerk interrupted. He told you to fuck off, get bent, and leave him the fuck alone. 

Then, before he slammed the door in your face, he procured the sort of audacity only assholes possessed and laughed at your Red Riot shirt — which is just plain unforgivable, frankly. 

"That guy's a fuckin' pussy." 

Sure, sure, sure, right, right, right.

The interaction told you everything you needed to know about the two (or four?) men who lived upstairs. They were losers. And they were fuckin' annoying. 

And, as it turns out, manufacturing bad batches of Trigger. 

You don't know that yet, but truth be told it isn't exactly shocking.

Maybe it's your fault for picking an apartment complex in this part of Tokyo. This part of Arawaka Ward is rarely found on those top-ten-neighborhoods-for-young-professionals lists, but it's affordable! And for day laborers like you, it worked. And hey, in recent months, the crime rate has gone down at least 5% — which only quelled the anxieties of your mom and dad by about the same percentage. 

The candle on the coffee table flickers, and you're about to turn back to your slow Twitter feed when there's another bang upstairs — this one admittedly loud enough to send a wave through your wine beside you. You slip your eyes slowly to the glass, perched on a coaster, as another bang rattles your apartment. You reach to still the vibrating glass on the side table. 

That's when the shouting really starts.

And it's when you notice the growing brightness of red and blue lights outside the window.

The apartment complex is pretty big. There are about sixty residents and six floors. You lucked out and managed to snagone of the last available Western-facing studios with a balcony — which made for a perfect plant haven. 

It was a recent hobby, but one that quickly became your calm after the chaos of the day-to-day. Working for the city's Heroics Response Department left you picking up the physical pieces (literally) of a lot of lives. Your quirk might be the usual, run-of-the-mill strength-based ability, but it comes in handy in the aftermath of property damage due to — what the Nation's Safety Commission has labeled — "villain-aggressed encounters". 

All in all, it's a good gig. It's physically demanding but rewarding. The pay is good, you've got union benefits, and you even have a per-diem schedule. It keeps you busy, and though it's not your father's construction business, it's a career path your parents are proud of. 

The slice-of-heaven balcony is bustling with plants. Some are happier than others, sure, but it's pretty. You've admittedlyformed an emotional bond with those vines, leaves, and flowers. 

It's perfect.

It's also perfect for snooping whenever things like this go down in your complex, or the sister complex across the parking lot. 

The shouting match upstairs is escalating, and you take the moment to tip-toe towards your balcony door to peek outside. It looks like two or three police cruisers have pulled up outside. Maybe someone called for a noise complaint? Maybe the property manager was tired of dealing with those losers?

Cackling to yourself, and hoping for a vindicating show of revenge (NO ONE CALLS RED RIOT A PUSSY), you yank open your balcony door and slip outside just as the sound of a pot crashing meets your ears.

Then:

"Shit, shit, shit—"

There's someone on the balcony. That someone's boot is currently stuck in an empty terracotta pot you were saving for spring. Your eyes are wide as you watch the shadow leap to his other foot, lose his balance, and unceremoniously knock over your entire, six-foot-tall, and well-treasured plant stand. You slap a hand over your mouth mid-shriek, hands flying to try and save whatever you can. 

You fail.

Eijiro Kirishima freezes.

What the fu—

It takes a second.

Like, a full second. Maybe even two. Your brain can't make sense of the sight before you. Neither can his, really. 

There's a girl on this balcony. A pretty girl. Like, mega pretty. Like soft and warm and cute and you smell kinda like vanilla — and there's... You're wearing his merch. His merch and... nothing else. Nothing else but a Dynamight eye mask and a pair of fluffy socks. 

...Is this what it's like to fall in love at first sight?

Shit.

Red Riot is on your balcony.

The Red Riot.

Red Riot, the hero in question, catches himself staring. His wide eyes openly wander over your figure (woah, okay, hello thighs), and the second he realizes it, he quickly snaps his eyes up to your face with a mortified expression. "Uh... hi!"

"...Hi...?"

Your expression is tied between shame, fear, and sheepishness as you blink once at him, then twice at the mess of your hobby's destruction. There's dirt everywhere, a plant stand blocking the doorway, and carnage. Your precious babies have been murdered. 

By Red Riot.

And... Red Riot is on your balcony. 

You repeat: Red Riot is on your balcony. 

Abort mission, abort mission.

Your lips part, your mouth hangs open, and every single thought in your head seems to stutter. Kirishima winces as you look down dejectedly at your plants (or, what remains) before he speaks.

"I, uh— is it cool if I..." he points upwards, "Use your balcony?" 

You're speechless.

You draw your mouth shut and nod hurriedly.

"Thanks," he grins, giving you a thumbs up — and a smile. A toothy, cute, nervous smile, "Lemme just... I gotta handle something. B-But, I'll be back. I'll help fix this mess — just... five minutes, okay?"

It hits you suddenly that his voice sounds different from all those interviews you've watched. It's a little warmer, a little raspier, a little less heroic. It's cute. 

Your brain is still having a hard time connecting the words coming out of his mouth to the scene before you — like, yes frontal lobe, this is real. This is happening.

Red Riot is real and Red Riot is on your balcony. 

He's shockingly gentle when he finally frees his boot from your terracotta pot, setting it down with purposeful delicacy — he even whispers 'please stay' as he props it upright — and then steps back to eye the balcony above yours like an athlete remembering a gameplan. 

He's trying to figure out the best way up. 

How he even got up here is news to you. 

(It was Uravity, as it turns out. They've been patrolling together more in this Ward.)

Red Riot is huge. Like, huge. 

Broad shoulders, rippling biceps, and long, fluffy crimson hair. It's daunting to realize how tall he is in person. The guy is a beast — everyone knows it — but his chivalrous nature is that thing that usually draws in his fans. It's no secret that Red Riot is sweet. He openly champions the need to be a good role model for men everywhere. Y'know, you can be strong and nice!

A sharp canine glints in your apartment's light as he pokes his tongue out and thinks for a second. 

Then, he settles on his plan. 

"You might wanna head inside," Red Riot says as he rolls his shoulders and bounces on the balls of his feet; he's readying up for a fight — and you blink as the beautiful realization dawns on you, "This could get kinda loud."

Loud?

Oh my god.

Is he here for your upstairs neighbors?

Oh my god, he is. 

Your jaw falls open as you bark out a laugh — it's an incredulous rasp that sends you into a spiral of joy; you're not a vengeful person by any means but...

"They're gonna shit themselves," you grin, your eyes alight with pure delight and a spark of something that reminds Kirishima a lot little bit of Bakugo, "They called you a pussy—"

Kirishima's brows shoot upwards as he pauses. He was about to jump and dig his hands into the underside of the balcony, but his quirk is stalling at your words. There's a roaring fire blazing in your eyes, one that screams retribution. 

It's... comical.

You cackle again at him with a wide grin, hissing conspiratorily. "They made fun of my shirt!"

You point down at the REAL MEN RIOT tee with both hands, your face set in a look of vindicated glee. Then, the second realization of the night hits — that you've got no pants on, and that stupid, goofy Dynamight eye mask is still on your face. You make a soft sound of embarrassment and tug your shirt down lower, trying to cover up. He cannot see your underwear. No. No way, no fucking way. Without a single word, you reach up, snatch the Dynamight eye mask off your face, and whip it off the balcony without a second thought. 

Slowly, Kirishima's face splits into a pointy grin. 

Holy shit, he's so fucking hot. 

"Oh, man," Red Riot rumbles, his face cracking into a sharp, playful smirk, "That's real rude. I might have t' teach these guys some manners."

Your smile returns, washing away the wobbly look of embarrassment sticking to your cheeks. 

Man, it sure is cute.

You are really cute, Kirishima realizes.

"Right! And who calls Red Riot a pussy?" you counter excitedly, before reigning it in and awkwardly lowering your arms as you try to tug your shirt down to hide the tops of your thighs again. Your glee has stifled a little bit, but it only reaffirms Kirishima's duty to wrap this all up. 

"Yea, that's, like, super misogynistic," he muses as his quirk kicks in and his hands flick into a hardened state. It's insaneto witness the way his large hands transform into weapons with a single breath. You can see the jagged extension of his quirk working up his large arms, too, "Lemme just have a lil' word with these boys, alright? Head on inside, I'll be back in a sec'."

Then, with graceful ease, he hops upwards with a little hup before latching to the base of the upstairs neighbor's balcony. 

It's insane how effortless it is for him to haul himself up the balcony, his hands dug into the cement. His upper body strength is insane. He's scaling the terrace, alternating his grip. He disappears into the dark, swinging his body upwards and reaching his destination.

You tamp down your awe in favor of heeding his directions: head inside.

You're closing the balcony door when you hear Red Riot's voice greet the unexpecting gaggle.

"Hey, fellas! I heard you guys are some super fans. Got anything you want me to sign?"

You snicker to yourself as you hear the beginning of a fight. 

Again, as it turns out, the guys upstairs sucked. Like, mega sucked. They'd been responsible for several recent Trigger overdoses; Uravity and Red Riot were working with law enforcement to track the small-time manufacturers — which explains why they'd been so quiet lately. They suspected someone was on their tail. 

As Red Riot scaled their balcony, law enforcement waited to break down their door. They arrested the four men (Seriously? Four? In that studio?) without much incident — however, you did spy a broken nose on one of them as they were hauled into the back of the awaiting cruisers. 

Sweet, sweet revenge. 

By the time your neighbors are carted off, you've shimmed into some sweats and made a half-assed attempt to look sort ofpresentable, all while firing off a few contextually incomprehensible texts into your group chat.

red riot has seen me in my underwear wtf do i do know kiss him?

You're really weighing your options when there's a knock on your balcony entry. It's gentle and cordial. You turn, head snapping, and spy that trademarked (and a dozen times retweeted) smile through the glass. He waves. 

Your heart leaps into your throat. You try to remember to breathe as you shuffle over and tug the balcony door open. The night air is cool.

Be like the night air.

Stay cool.

Eijiro feels so silly. And guilty. And honestly? Really into you. 

You're still wearing that shirt — the one with his face on it. You have opted to put on pants, but Kirishima still reminds himself to keep his eyes on your face. No ogling. That's not very gentlemanly. 

There's a beat of awkward silence as the two of you wait for the other to speak, and Kirishima is the one to break it with a raspy laugh.

"I wanted to apologize about your plants," a large hand moves to rub the back of his neck, "I cleaned up as best I could. I'm really, really sorry."

You wave him off, leaning into the doorframe. "No, it's okay! It's nothing I can't... fix. I think?"

You look beyond him to the catastrophic mess of plant matter. He must have tried tidying up while you rattled off the rapid-fire texts in the group chat. 

Red Riot's face warbles into something tied between mortification and guilt. "Please forgive me."

"Seriously!" you cry, waving your hands as you try to placate his dejected expression, "Please don't feel bad. It's a fair trade, y'know. Those guys upstairs were, like, the worst."

"I can only imagine," Eijiro concedes, frowning a little, "They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"

You shake your head and laugh a little, "Aside from insulting my favorite hero to my face? Not really."

Kirishima can feel his face get a little hot. He shifts from boot to boot. His smile is a little woozy. "So... you're a fan?"

You don't need to tell him the underwear you have on matches the shirt — red, with an embroidered RR on the front. You keep that to yourself. You just nod happily.

"Really?" his grin cracks into something so excitable it makes your entire stomach flip, "I don't meet a lotta fans who are..."

His words drift off.

He's staring at your eyes. You're so... soft. Warm. Your eyes are swirling with quiet, astonished adoration and it's making Kirishima feel like he's floating. 

"Who are...?" your brow quirks as you lean deeper into the doorframe, trying to coax out the rest of the sentence.

"Gorgeous," he breathes, his posture relaxing a little as he soaks in your expression.

It's like getting sucker punched to the sternum.

All the wind rushed out of your lungs.

The soft moment only lasts a beat, because suddenly Red Riot's face screws up and he waves his hands hurriedly. "Wait, no. Hold on, I mean — all of my fans are gorgeous, because, uh, they're my fans and I love them, right? It's not like they're not gorgeous, I just — I'm... I... My fans are, like, usually dudes? A-And that's totally cool because dudes can be gorgeous, too, y'know? But—"

You're laughing.

Kirishima is realizing he was not paying enough attention in his agency's PR training last month and you're laughing.

"I get it," you giggle, crossing your arms and grinning up at him, "I mean, I definitely don't think I'm gorgeous but—"

"You are," he assures firmly, his expression serious.

Are you dead?

Are you, like, literally ascending to a higher plane right now?

There's no fucking way this is happening. 

Your lips part in quiet shock as you bite back a smile that threatens to cramp up your cheeks. Kirishima eats it up, his posture perking up at the way you seem to melt at his compliment. His smile is boyish — almost dizzy. 

You duck a bashful look towards the tiled floor of the balcony, not really giving a singular shit that your beloved monstera has been stomped on.

Kirishima clears his throat, then — in a move he totally hasn't swooned over in those K-dramas he's secretly obsessed with, that'd be ridiculous — he props his arm up against your door and leans over you. Your faces are close in the warm light of the balcony. 

Your eyes stutter up his abdomen, chest, jaw, lips, and eyes. Kirishima notices. It's really, really cute.

"Are you, uh... Are you seeing anyone?" 

Of course, Red Riot would ask that. Red Riot, the king of chivalry. How is something like that so endearing? For the tenth time tonight, he makes your stomach flip.

You shake your head no, a little too stunned to speak.

"Cool," Eijiro musters over a shake of nerves, "Cool. Okay. Uh, then would it... would it be okay if I bought you some new plants?"

You nod, swallowed entirely by his shadow. He's so fucking huge. 

"And if I took you to dinner?" 

Another nod.

"...And — shit. You're, like, so cute," the smooth persona he's put on melts a little as his eyes roam your face; you feel so... shy, "I was gonna ask you something else but..."

"My number?" you offer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you maintain eye contact. 

Is it hot? You're sweating. Is he sweating? He's hot. 

Eijiro nods, absolutely mesmerized by the way you tug your lip between your teeth. "That. Yea."

He has to fight back the urge to bite his knuckle when you turn away and move towards your kitchen to snag your phone. Kirishima stays put, allowing himself one moment of ogling. When you turn around, he's clearing his throat and crossing a boot over his ankle. 

He's still leaning up against the doorway.

"Here," you slip him the phone.

Eiijiro takes it — then hesitates for a second.

"...You're not gonna leak my number, are you?"

You have to laugh. You rub your cheek and shake your head before crossing your arms and looking up at him. "If you think I'm going to do anything to fumble this, you're wrong." 

Fumble this? Fumble him? He's the one that is at risk of fumbling, are you serious?

Eijiro barks out a surprised laugh as he enters his number, shoots a quick text his way then ignores the buzz in his back pocket. He hands your phone back and tries so fucking hard to ignore the way your fingers brush his. 

He got your number.

Holy shit, he got your number.

"Hey, Red Riot?"

He blinks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

You gesture for him to come closer, and he obeys easily — he bends a bit at the waist, his hair falling along his shoulders as he smiles down at you in the threshold of your apartment.

"Is everything alri—?"

You pop a chaste kiss against his cheek. 

Or, try. 

As you hop up onto your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, Eijiro is turning his head at the sound of Urvaity calling his name simultaneously. Trajectory failed, and now it's lips and lips instead of lips on cheek — and honestly? He owes Ochaco one for this. 

Red Riot melts — actually, truly, genuinely melts. His posture slumps down as you let out a shocked little sound of apology. But, Eijiro doesn't mind, and fuck, neither do you — because one hand braces against the doorframe above your head while his other hand is suddenly on your waist. He steadies himself, and damn. Damn. 

He breaks away when Uravity calls his name again. Kirishima is breathless and blushing, and your knees feel like jello. 

"I... Uh, I gotta go—"

"Yea, totally," you breathe, swallowing down the burn of unfiltered attraction, "Sorry, I was trying to kiss your cheek—"

Another call of his name. Red Riot curses softly before hollering a 'COMING!' over his shoulder, out past the edge of the balcony. 

When he turns back, he's fast to sweep you into another kiss — this one hotter than before. This one draws you into his chest, sending your hands colliding with the hot skin of his chest. There's muscle and scars and heat beneath your fingertips. His hand curls around your lower back, and you nearly moan. 

He peels himself away with an apologetic look as he backs towards the edge of the balcony. "I gotta go — I'll text you once patrol is over. Is that okay? I'm serious about the plants. And dinner." 

All you can do is nod.

Eijiro is kinda proud of himself for stunning you stupid with that kiss.

This is exactly the sort of night you needed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Depths 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It's too rainy to paint but you hate to stay pent up. You pull on a coat and boots and head out with an umbrella. You might not get any work done but the lake will help soothe your nerves.

You come down the ragged path towards the dock and stop at the threshold of dirt and wood. You squint out at the dark shape bobbing on the water. The ship is whipped around in the wind, rocking dangerously on the foam. Still, it makes no advance towards shore.

The rain darts down like pellets. Small droplets that bounce off your coat but don't soak through. A spray speckles over your face as the fog rises across the lake. The boat's light turns on and glows in the distance.

Only then does the vessel redirect. You can hardly tell from your vantage. You shield your eyes from the rain as you try to zero in.

The rain lets up but the fog thickens around you. You stop just beyond the lap of the risen waves. Pebbles roll in the dirt and sticks float out with the tide.

The boat looms closer as it cuts a slow trawl through the water. You climb up on the dock and watch. You can only see the floating orb of light in the wall of mist.

You turn back and tramp down into the mud. It'll slow your return and the sooner your out of the musty air the better. You look back as the boat knocks against the dock, just as you reach the crest of the valley. 

The man with the white hair ties off on the post and throws out his ramp. His figure is obscured and he appears like a ghost in the fog. You're too far to see more than his faint silhouette. You set off and leave him behind with the churning waters.

The house is grim as you enter. You forgo the electric bulbs for a glass lantern. The ambiance flickers as a new spatter of rain begins. You steep a cup of tea and settle in with a book.

The lull coaxes you to sleep. You only wake as a sudden clatter comes from the rear of the house. You nearly roll of the sofa as you give a start. The novel falls to the floor as you sit up in the dark.

The wick's burnt itself out and the night has deepened outside. You get up and go to look out on the wooden deck. It could just be the wind. You don't see more than shadows. The only thing that hangs around are bears and deer. You'll leave them be.

You retreat and go to tidy up your cup and the book. You drag yourself a bed, dozy with the dampness thick around you.

The next morning is brighter but you have things to do. You load several paintings into your wooden wagon and head out for the main fare. It's a good trek away but you don't mind. The market stalls more than make up for the effort.

You stop at the post office first and send off the paintings to their buyers. Sales are enough to get by. Decent for the work done. Then you take your wagon off to the market for your usual haul.

You stop at the produce stand and pick out some healthy potatoes and onions, some berries too. You add some oats and flour to the wagon along the way, needing only some meat to get you by. 

You're drawn off course on your way to the butcher's stall. The shining scales lure you in and you browse the selection of trout. The man behind the stall frightens you as he growls in greeting.

"We don't have shrimp," the white-haired fisher states.

You didn't know he sold here but you suppose he has to offload the fish somehow.

"Oh, I wasn't... can I have two, please? They're pretty big." You smile. He narrows his eyes and unhooks two fish, wrapping them in paper and twine.

You ask how much and pay. You watch him as his golden eyes guide his hands. He accepts the money. 

"Quite the rain yesterday." You say.

He looks at you and returns your change.

"The waters must have been rough," you add. He shrugs. "Alright, well have a good day. See ya around."

You put the fish in the wagon and he clears his throat. "What are you painting?" He asks. You stop and face him again.

"Sorry?"

"You've got that easel. What do you paint?"

You smile again, "the water. The sun. It's beautiful out there, isn't it?"

He nods and grunts. "Dunno, I just look for the fish.”

You stand in silence. Unsure what else to do or say. You thank him again and drag your wagon onward. You stop at the butcher a few stands down. 

You glance back. The white-haired man stares after you for a moment then turns his back to you. He picks up a book and plops down on his stool. He's not much of a salesman but those fish will make a good filet.

[slytherinshua]

you asked for soft thoughts *cracks neck* thinking of you comforting sejun during rehearsal dinner because earlier at the venue for rehearsals he (being the clumsy loser he is) got startled by the pastor rounding the corner he pushed him into the water fountain… so now he’s just thinking that he will mess up during tomorrows ceremony, you reassure him that even if he messes up it won’t matter cause you’re marrying the love of your life. all in all, the reception goes without a hitch! it’s at the reception he topples over the cake while trying to cut it 🥹

noooooo this is so cute STOP IT VESPER :(((((((( warnings: they get married (obv). implied christian wedding (church, pastor, etc). sejun cries a million and 1 times. not proofread and written on tumblr so definitely a mess but it's soft thoughts so it doesn't matter hehe. wc: ~860.

he literally WOULD need comforting he's so nervous. during rehearsal everything is going okay (he's literally just standing there he can't mess up) and his best man is by his side just noticing how fucking down bad he is and how his hand is shaking. he tries to hide it by clasping his hands tightly but he fails. suddenly his suit feels itchy and like it fits him wrong. he's questioning whether he even looks half decent because how the hell did he end up with someone as gorgeous as you, he can't even compare :(

and on the way to the church hall where the rehearsal dinner will be after you had run through all the actual service stuff, he gets so scared when the pastor tries to friendly wrap his arm around his shoulder to congratulate him 😭😭😭 he apologizes profusely because his survival instincts kicked in or something cause why did he push the poor guy into the fountain in the front 😭😭 sejun is just way too nervous :(

his brain is racing a mile a minute and he needs to get back by your side immediately because you're the only thing that keeps him calm </3. when you're finally eating dinner, he was supposed to be seated across from you, but he forces one of your bridesmaids to switch with him because he needs to be next to you 😭😭😭😭 he'll hold your hand under the table to try to calm himself down :( you think he's so endearing, you can feel his hand shaking and how warm it is <//3 you just know his brain is just thinking through everything. he knows he's gonna cry tomorrow but more than that he's worried he'll trip or stutter over his words or something will go wrong. he probably has to have a pep talk with his mom after rehearsal dinner cause even she can see that he's stressing from across the dining hall

then comes the actual day of the wedding and the only thing keeping sejun sane is his groomsmen making sure he's calm. they're hyping him up and making sure he looks sharp and not a single hair is out of place. he feels confident as he walks up to the chapel but he loses it IMMEDIATELY once he sees all the flowers and decorations because everything becomes so real. he cries even before the service starts. when the music starts playing and its his time to walk down the aisle and wait for you, he's using his 4-7-8 breathing to keep calm and panicking even more cause his heart rate is NOT FUCKING SLOWING DOWN LMAOKSJDKS

but he gets to the alter and all he has to do is stand. he can do that, right? wrong. he cries so much as soon as you start walking down the aisle. seeing you in your dress for the first time is so surreal. he loves you so much you're the most beautiful person he's ever met both inside and out and he thinks the love he holds for you is gonna swallow him whole at any point. during the entire service he's a wreck of nerves and love and everything just feels so REAL and he's so so happy and emotional. his best man has to keep holding a box of tissues the entire time because sejun cries again and again and again throughout the pastor's talking about marriage and love and being forever united. seeing him so emotional gets you emotional too :(

during vows he's the worst. he's crying, laughing, stuttering. all the words get caught in his throat but he manages. his vows are super sweet and heartfelt, so so endearing just like him :( all the guests find it so funny how he's the more emotional one on the day since the bride is usually the one to feel overwhelmed for her big day, but sejun just can't help it. he's yours for the rest of his life and the thought makes his brain short-circuit cause he's so in love.

sliding the ring on your finger and finally getting to kiss you is the best moment of his life. his tears are long gone and he's all giggles and smiles by now. he kisses you so nicely with a dramatic dip and everything. when he pulls apart you're both laughing and the guests are all clapping and cheering. his dimples will not leave his face because he can't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

he's no longer in any danger of crying during the reception but he cannot top smiling and he can't be separated from you at all. if you want to greet guests, you'll have to drag him along with you because his hand is permanently stuck to your waist now. he's so dashingly handsome with his bright eyes and smile, finally able to call himself your husband.

(although yes he fumbles a bit during the cake cutting only because he's so excited!! it's both your favourite flavor and he loves food so much so the cake was always the second biggest thing he was looking forward to after finally tying the knot with you).

↳ victon taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @minholing,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @weird-bookworm,,

@nyukyusnz,, @seunghancore,, @chenleszone,, @hursheys

[ashcal99]

Certain Things : Leah Clearwater I

Chapter One

"Something about you, It's like an addiction, Hit me with your best shot honey, I've got no reason to doubt you, 'Cause certain things hurt, And you're my only virtue"

Summary: Conner Swan moves to Forks Washington in hopes to help his sister Bella through her breakup with Edward. In hopes to find happiness again. He finds much more.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, loss, antidepressants, general angst, slow burn

Words: 3.5k

A/N: Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

!!!There is a prologue linked above if you're interested. You don't need to read it, but it does explain a lot of what's written later on.!!!

——————

December 18th, 2005

Traveling to Forks all the way from Phoenix was a long and boring trip. One that Conner had never driven before as he typically flew when traveling to visit his father. Unfortunately, seeing as he had about 20 moving boxes crammed in and strapped down under a tarp in the bed of his truck, he couldn’t exactly travel by those means this time. He supposed could’ve shipped his belongings and truck up the country, but he didn’t even want to think about how much money that would have cost. Being an accountant didn’t exactly support a lavish lifestyle by any means. Moving was never fun, especially when it was almost 1,600 miles away. But he knew that when he agreed to his father’s request to relocate north.

The twenty-one year old had been driving for about nineteen hours now, so doing a quick calculation in his head, he figured he had about four and a half hours left of the drive. He had refused to stop and pay for a hotel that he couldn’t afford and tiredness had long started to eat away at his mind. Looking at the small fluorescent numbers on his dashboard, he saw it had reached dinner time. In almost comical timing, his stomach growled out a borderline demonic sound, demanding to be fed. Giving into hunger, he pulled the old dull blue chevy truck to the nearest exit, deciding he would stop at the first restaurant he drove past. Much to his dismay, the only signs of life were an old gas station that looked like it was straight out of the 1950’s and a diner to match. Sure, 50’s diners had their appeal, but let’s just say, this one seemed a bit too authentic. He could get back on the interstate and drive further to see if there was anything else, but he knew for a fact that there wouldn’t be another exit for miles and he wasn’t about to backtrack south. He would just have to hope and pray that the food tasted better than the place looked. 

Driving up to the almost empty parking lot, he pulled the transmission into park and un-clicked his seatbelt. Pausing for a moment he glanced again to the dirty windows and rusting railing of the building and grimaced. Did he really need food this bad? His stomach answered almost immediately with a low gurgling groan. Okay, that would be a yes then. Throwing his door open, he stepped out, stretching his long limbs for what felt like the first time in years. Reluctantly, he stepped back from the pick-up, manually locking the vehicle with the key, and began trudging stiffly to the dull chrome rimmed door. Once inside, his hopes for a decent meal demolished to ash as the odor of grease and burnt toast hit his sinuses. His nose wrinkled in disgust, as he choked out a cough in protest, earning the attention of a middle aged woman wearing a stained white apron who was sat directly in front of the doors, at the diner’s bar. Looking almost shocked to see a customer, she slid off the stool to her feet. Stepping over to greet Conner at the “wait to be seated” sign. 

“Well hello, how can I help you?” She asked confused, the crease between her brows deepening. This couldn’t be a good sign, right? Surly it was bad that she was questioning why he would step into a diner around dinner time.

Taking a quick breath, trying not to breath through his nose too much, he answered. “Um yeah, table for one?” He needed food and a break from driving to wake up, he told himself. He could muster through this and get back to driving soon. 

Quirking an eyebrow at the young man, the woman answered. “Are you sure about that? The only people we ever really serve are the farmers around here, and they clearly have incredibly low standards when it comes to the definition of food.” 

He grimaced as another strong wiff of something burning hit his nostrils, seeming to singe the hairs. “Yeah, I can see that, well… smell it I guess.” He stated, wincing from the stench. “Unfortunately though, yes, I am afraid I do need to have something to eat as soon as possible or I think my stomach may start eating itself. Which I’m starting to wonder if that is the better of the two options here.” He half joked, earning a small slanted grin from the waitress.

“Right this way sweetie.” She said, ushering him to follow her to the furthest booth from the open kitchen. She slid into the booth quickly, reaching forward to unlatch the ancient window. She swiftly pulled the metal frame upwards, it groaning in protest. “Sorry about the smell sweet pea, our cook Earl gets a bit overzealous with the toaster.” She apologized, sliding against the old creaky booth to stand upright.

Conner smiled slightly, leaning down to sit on the cracked worn leather. “No worries, I just need something to eat to get me by for the rest of my drive.” He stated, pausing a moment to get a nice breath of fresh air from the now open window. “What would you recommend that’s least likely to give me food poisoning, a heart attack, or a stomach ulcer?” He half joked, a lop sided grin forming on his mouth. 

The woman let out a bark of laughter, throwing her hand to her chest. “Honey, I wouldn’t touch any food here with a ten foot pole myself, but if you’re that desperate, I would recommend a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup considering the soup comes from a can-“ she paused, taking in a breath from her nose, and continued. “But, on second thought, maybe just some soup would be best.” She smiled apologetically. 

Agreeing to the soup with a glass of water to drink, Conner leaned back into the creaking booth, stretching his legs as much as the space below the short table would allow. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a deep sigh, as his thoughts began to wander. 

He didn’t know what to expect when seeing his sister again after almost a year with little to no contact. The last time he had seen her had been after her accident and she had been too drugged up on pain meds to really hold much of a conversation. As far as he knew, she had no idea he was moving up, as him and Charlie decided it would be best kept a surprise. 

Conner wasn’t too sure how she would react considering she had willingly stopped her daily conversations with him. He did know that after starting his antidepressants he had gotten a bit better with handling his trauma, and he could only hope that he was less of a burden to her because of it. Because, that’s what he was, right? Clearly there was a reason she had stopped talking to him after years of having a tight knit relationship with each other. 

Really, he didn’t blame her, not too much anyway. He didn’t want her to feel trapped into comforting him through his depression, no matter how much it hurt him to be pushed away. She was the younger sibling and he had made the promise to protect her, not the other way around. He couldn’t expect to be coddled by her. None the less, the thought made his chest ache.

He slumped forwards, elbows resting on the table, dropping his head into his hands. The dull ache in his forehead grew. His thoughts continued grow more and more dismal, the ache turning into a pulsing behind his brow. He let his eyes shut as he kneaded his thumbs on his temples, trying to relieve some of the pain. 

Before he knew it, he was jolting awake to a small shake of his shoulder. Looking around frantically, it took him a moment to remember where he was. The diner’s fluorescent lights burned his sleepy eyes as tried blinking them to attention. Turning to the waitress that still had her hand on his shoulder he asked, slightly panicked. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?” 

She gave him a soft smile and replied. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you were only out a few minutes.” She paused, setting the bowl of steaming soup she had been holding down on the table, completely unbothered by the obvious heat of the ceramic bowl. “I am, however a bit concerned about your state of alertness and getting back on the road.” She continued.

He let out a small awkward laugh in reply, brushing his fingers through his hair once again, it being a bit of a nervous habit of his to do so. “Yeah-“ He said, letting out a deep yawn. “I guess I needed a bit of a power nap. I should probably get a cup of coffee to go and hope my stomach doesn’t put up too much of a fight at the food and drink combination.” He laughed. 

She chuckled in reply, resting her hands inside the stained apron pockets. “Well, I’ll go ahead and start brewing that for you then.” She said smiling, turning, and walking behind the bar.

——————

Conner sipped on the coffee that had long lost its’ warmth, trying to keep himself alert. It had been a while since he had been in cold like Washington during December, and of course, he had forgotten that his truck’s heating had gone out. It was just his luck that this happened. He hadn’t exactly forgotten, but he had been so used to driving around phoenix, no matter the time of year, with his window rolled down to compensate for the fact that the heating and ac had stopped working. Arizona didn’t exactly come with the issue of trying to stay warm over half of the year. So, of course, when the sun had set just as he crossed over the Washington state line, he instantly regretted not fixing the truck previously. He knew he would have to find a mechanic to fix it asap, but for now, he was screwed.

So there her was, bundled in as many layers as he could fit on his body, sipping on cold coffee, shivering while his teeth chattered in his mouth. His cheeks had to have been bright red, he was sure. He was almost there though. In fact, hd was even starting to recognize familiar buildings on his way into town, and he knew he was only a few minutes away. Sure enough, he rounded the corner and instantly spotted the old police cruiser out front.

 Not much had changed with the house since he had last seen it. The same old trees out front. Same chipped white paint. The only difference was a clunky ancient looking orange truck that now occupied half of the cracked driveway. This, he knew to be Bella’s. She had gotten it on her first day in town, back when she was still speaking to her brother. 

Putting the truck in park for its’ final time of the night, he sighed, pulling the key from the ignition. Grabbing a few things, his keys, cell phone, and backpack full of overnight items, he slid out of the cab of the truck into the cold air. He closed the car door softly, trying not to make too much noise in hopes to not wake Bella, assuming she would be sleeping by now. He knew she had been having trouble sleeping and didn’t want to interfere with what little sleep she did get.

Walking up to the front door, he knocked softly. As he stood there, blowing on his hands, trying to warm them the best he could, the door swung open. And there stood Charlie. Not a thing had changed, minus maybe a new wrinkle here or there. Still the same warn out flannel shirt, bushy mustache, and warm brown eyes. "Conner!" His father whisper-shouted. Grabbing his son and wrapping him in his arms. God, he missed his dad’s hugs. Sure, the man was socially awkward as hell, but damn, did he hug with his whole heart. “I missed you so much, Son.” He said, the words muffled by Conner’s shoulder. His son had gotten taller since he had last seen him, that was for sure.

“I missed you too, Dad” He said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come to visit sooner.” He felt his eyes begin to water, trying to push back the building emotion behind his voice.

The older man pulled away, keeping his hands on his son’s shoulders, looking deep into the blues of his eyes. “Stop that. You don’t have to explain yourself or apologize. You’ve been through hell and back, Con. I understand, and I just hope that I can be there for you when you need me.” He said, tears filling his eyes as well. “You and Bells are the most important things in my life and that’s never going to change, okay?” He asked. 

As Conner looked into the deep brown of his father’s eyes, the tightness in his chest that had been there for over year, slightly loosened its’ grip. He felt the comfort of home embrace the shards of his broken heart for the first time since Mia had left him. A small smile graced his lips as he nodded lightly, excepting his father’s love. 

Charlie let out a deep sigh, letting his hands drop from his son’s shoulders, ushering him inside the warmth of the home. Closing the door and locking it, he turned to Conner. “I put sheets on your bed upstairs. I’m sorry, I only had your old sheets that fit, so you may want to get new ones once you get settled.” He said, giving his son a small smile.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m sure they’re fine. I’m just ready to knock out for ten hours straight.” He said, laughing lightly. 

Charlie smiled. ”Okay, I'm going to go to sleep now, have to get up early in the morning. I assume you’ll still be asleep when I leave for work, but I’ll be home around seven, if you want to wait up and have dinner with me?” He asked hopefully. 

"Will do, goodnight dad.” Conner replied, smiling softly. 

"Night, Con. Glad you're here." Charlie took one more glance at his son before walking down the hall and into his bedroom.

He knew his aching limbs and head would have to wait until tomorrow to unpack the bed of his truck, so he didn’t bother waiting any longer before he trudged up the narrow stairs to his childhood bedroom. Trying to open the old creaky door quietly, he reached in, flipping the light on. 

Warm light flooded the room revealing a small dresser, and an old mattress lying on the floor. It wasn’t the best set up, seeing as he was six foot two and would probably find some difficulty getting out of bed from so low, but this was how it was set up when he was a kid. Charlie hadn’t had time to change much of anything with such short notice and that was made clear by the power ranger posters that littered the wood paneling of the walls and the sheets that were stretched tightly across the mattress that were covered in looney tunes characters. 

He sighed, knowing he would need to purchase a bed frame eventually, as he left his old one back in Phoenix, not exactly having the room for it in the bed of his truck. But that was okay, he had at least packed his sheets, and they were tucked away somewhere with the rest of his things. He would worry about that tomorrow though. For now, he just wanted a warm shower and a good night’s rest. 

Setting his keys and phone down on the dresser, he turned, making his way to the small shared bathroom down the hall. Turning the water on, he dug through his bag, finding his soap and shampoo, and setting them on the edge of the tub. Peeling layer by layer off, he tossed them into the laundry hamper that occupied the far left corner. Finally, he discarded his last piece of clothing, the cool air hitting his bare skin. 

Goosebumps rose on his arms as he stepped over the edge of the tub, letting the steady stream of water run over his rigid frame. He took in a deep breath, feeling the steam enter his lungs. Slowly letting the air back out, he felt his body relax under the warmth of the water. His body ached in protest of his day’s journey, the heat gradually easing the tense muscles. His mind blurred through the motions of his shower routine, wanting to finish quickly, so that he could enjoy the warmth for a bit longer. Finishing, he leaned his head back, letting the water droplets run freely down his face.  

It was then that he allowed his thoughts to overcome him. It had been an overwhelming day to say the least, and after over twenty-four hours of distracting himself with music or books on tape, he was finally alone with his mind. He didn’t know what to expect from the move. It had been so long since he had set foot in the small town, and suddenly he was picking up and moving here? Sure, he had always missed his father and was happy to be around people he loved once again, but everything had progressed so quickly, he hadn’t been given time to process anything. He had gone over a year after the accident going by a strict schedule he had set in place in order to distract himself from the agonizing pain in his heart. 

Now, he had been ripped away from his job, from his apartment, and from the life he was used to living day by day, and suddenly it was hard to breath. He felt his chest begin to raise quickly, up and down as he tried to catch is bearings. The sound of the water beating down on the porcelain tub began to drown out, the pounding in his ears numbing everything but the panic building in his chest. 

Was he screaming? Maybe? Surely not. No, definitely not. Snapping out of his thoughts, he quickly shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he rushed to dry himself and wrap the cloth around his waist. Pushing the door open, cool air rushed down his spine, bringing the goosebumps back to his skin. Following the screams, he found himself lead to what he remembered to be his sister’s room. 

Sure enough, there she was. The light of the hallway pouried in through the doorway, illuminating her thrashing body. He rushed to her side, shaking her urgently, trying to wake her from her nightmare. With a sudden gasp of air, she shot awake. Squinting through the light at the hazy silhouette before her, she blinked rapidly. Her voice cracked. “C-Conner?” She asked confused. Was she still dreaming? She couldn’t be. Her dreams hadn’t consisted of anything as pleasant as seeing her brother for a while now. 

But her heart sunk as realization hit her. She had deliberately avoided him for over a year. Of course she had a good reason to do so in the beginning, but eventually it just turned into her not knowing how to come back and fix the mess that she had made of their relationship. And now he was here to taunt her in her dreams? This had to be a nightmare. 

Panic began to fill her chest once again. Conner saw this in the brown of her eyes, and he quickly laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Bells, it’s okay. It’s me, I’m here.” He said reassuringly. 

The space between her eyebrows creased as she finally got a good glimpse at him. Water dripped from his tousled hair onto the soft lavender of her sheets, darkening the shade slightly. She blinked. It was really him. She wasn’t too sure if that was much better than him being a part of her nightmare. “H-How?” She breathed out.

Conner sighed, “It’s late Bells, and I’ve been driving all day. I’ll explain in the morning, I promise. But, for now, you and I both need sleep. Okay?” He asked. After receiving a nod in repose, he stood, assuring his towel was secure around his waist, and walked forward to leave the room.

“Con?” Bella croaked. Turning his head back to the girl, he hummed in question. “I love you.” She answered softly, her voice trailing off slightly towards the end of her sentence.

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upward. “I love you too, Bells. Goodnight.” He said, not waiting for a response as he walking into the hallway, shutting her bedroom door behind himself.

After going back to the bathroom and grabbing his backpack, he sauntered back to his room. Dressing quickly in black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt, he climbed down into bed silently. Wrapping himself in the warmth and comfort of his childhood bed, he let himself succumb to sleep.

Next Chapter

[strandedbuckley]

BUTTCHEEKS AND BROWNIES

okay, @chaotictarlos and i were tossing ideas around, and the thought of 'nothing but an apron' popped into my head, and this happened.

warnings: dom!carlos at the end, food!play, tk walking around with nothing but an apron on, also walking around fully nude for a lil moment, mdni

author's note: omg..... hahaha. this is unedited and only read through once by myself, so i hope it's somewhat decent

TK felt all excited and tingly as he stripped. His belt went first, followed by his pants, his shirt, and his boxers. He threw everything into the hamper in the bedroom, and then, naked to the world- or to his home and the one opened window, that is- he wandered back to the kitchen.

He made a small 'o' with his mouth when the breeze drifting from the open window made contact with his uncovered nipples, causing them to stiffen instantly. It made his cock twitch. It really didn't take much to get TK going, but he was a little surprised that a teeny gust of wind was all it took to get him half-hard already.

He supposed it had something to do with the plans he'd made for tonight. The thought of those plans made him shiver, his dick now at full attention. He really was just so desperate for it tonight. He blushed when he glanced down at the floor and saw his own arousal in his shadow, long and ready to be touched however Carlos saw fit when he got home.

TK made his way to the kitchen counter. He took the folded apron he laid out not too long ago, and proceeded to pull it over his head. He circled the ties around his waist twice before creating a knot. He tightened it a little, loving the slight pressure against his skin, and then the timer started to ring.

TK switched off the oven, bending down to carefully took out the contents, before practically throwing the gooey treats onto the side, startled by Carlos, who he hadn't even heard come in.

"Oh, please, don't stop on my account." Carlos was resting against the counter, arms folded, one brow raised. His eyes travelled the length of TK's body, appreciating every inch. "I was enjoying the view."

"Good." TK replied, more than happy to see his fiancé was home, more than happy for his plans to begin. "We're having an after-shift midnight snack. Want one?"

TK cuts a corner of the brownie from the tray and offers it to Carlos, who shakes his head, causing TK to frown. He's about to question Carlos' rejection, but then he's pleasantly surprised by the request that stops him.

"Feed it to me."

TK nods, then lifts the brownie to Carlos' mouth. He can't tear his eyes away as he watches Carlos slowly bite into the chocolate. He eats the piece in four small bites, then purposefully makes a show of licking his lips and fingers when he's done. He ends his little show with a wink, causing TK to blush, his cock twitching underneath the think material of his apron.

He tries to ignore it for a moment. He wants to have everything ready before he drags Carlos to the bedroom where's he laid a towel on their bed in preparation for the mess. He doesn't want to cum already, just from the way Carlos is watching him; he wants to savour tonight, take it slow.

"Uh, we need ice cream." He opens up the freezer and pulls out a new, unopened carton, then moves to the fridge. "And I cut up some strawberries, too."

"So, TK... is there an explanation as to why you aren't wearing boxers under that apron?"

"Correction; I'm not wearing anything under this apron."

"Oh. So then, you are trying to seduce me, huh?" Carlos whispers, then closes the short distance between them.

His hands slide around to TK's waist, his fingertips running small circles there. The gentle touch makes TK's cock jump, and thinks he may alrady be leaking precum. God, he's so ready for the next couple of hours.

TK smirks when Carlos presses his entire front flush to his back. He can feel Carlos' growing erection against his ass, as a wandering hand moves down to take a hold of his own over his apron.

"Ah. Carlos, please."

"You're so worked up, love. All needy and wet already. What were you planning for us, hm?"

Carlos' thumb presses against the slit of TK's head, the pre-cum smearing against the apron, causing a wet mark on the material.

"Hm, Tyler? What did you have planned?"

"The brownies. Ice cream, mmm, was gonna—"

TK doesn't get a chance to finish when Carlos suddenly drops to his knees. He gasps when he feels coldness against his rear, and he momentarily wonders how he didn't notice Carlos take the ice cream tub from the counter.

"This? You wanted to play with your food?" TK nods enthusiastically as Carlos uses a spoon to drop cold vanilla between his plump cheeks.

It dribbles down, and TK bucks into nothing but air when it passes over his hole. "Yes! God, yes. Mm, I wanted to paint you with chocolate and ice cream and lick it all off of you. Was gonna get the squirty cream out, too. Suck it off your big cock before you split me open on it."

"That so?" Carlos chuckles at TK's rambly outburst, his mind flicking through images of everything he'd said. He stands again, turning TK around to face him. "Tell me... did you prep yourself?"

"N-no, not today."

"Good." Carlos smiles. "That's my job. Now, I think we can make these plans come true, darlin'. Only, I think you'll be my canvas instead. Now... go lie down on the bed while I bring everything in. Yes?"

TK nods, nearly tripping when he hears Carlos praise him as he heads for the bedroom. 

"Good boy."

taglist: @wandering-night19 @fortunatelydecaffeinateddinosaur @rubinsteinsilva126 @maniadeityn @just-inside-her @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader + let me know if you'd like to be added/removed, please!

[yukiokumura]

Yukio was the type to deal with whatever was bothering him, to busy himself if he couldn't, and to take action. But with his fiancé in a dark cell awaiting execution for a crime he didn't commit, it wasn't time to simply be busy. Action was required and if no one else was going to do something, he would.

Yukio was not a thief, but he would be in order to recruit one. He gathered up jewels and gold, stuffing it away in his clothes from every room he managed to get entry into. The more he stole from the bastards who put Ryuuji on death row, the less helpless he felt. Yukio gathered it all into a few leather purses before changing out of his regal clothing. He snatched a few servant's clothes, something sturdy but easy to move around in, and moved as quickly and quietly as he could to the supplies that were being donated to Renzou's ship.

Tatsuma had decided to give Renzou the best chance possible and thus was donating food to the ten day trip Renzou and his crew were supposed to go on. As no one needed to guard food, Yukio opened one of the large wooden crates and curled up tight into the corner before closing it over him. He held his breath and listened, but the sudden lurching movement told him he hadn't been seen. He was heading straight for Renzou's ship and no one would stop him. Yukio let out a slow, quiet breath, staying perfectly still until the crate he was in was placed down on an unsteady deck.

He was likely on Renzou's boat now, but how would he get out without being seen? If the crew found him before he got the chance to pay Renzou off, he would surely be thrown overboard. He had to play this perfectly— 

The crate opened, but the top wasn't taken completely off. Instead, only the corner was lifted.

"Shh."

A short shushing sound passed through the space and Yukio froze. They knew he was there? Already?

"No one else knows you're here. Yet." A man spoke. "The crate was heavily off center and a box packed by the castle would be expertly balanced so what are you going to give me to let you stay?"

Yukio clicked his tongue. They weren't stupid. Unfortunate. He quietly rummaged through his leather purses and grabbed a golden bracelet adorned with a decently sized ruby. The man outside seemingly heard his rustling because the lid of the crate was lifted up just enough for his hand to slip in. He was dirty and Yukio couldn't help but be careful to not touch his skin as he deposited the bracelet into his palm. The hand pulled back and Yukio heard an impressed whistle.

"Well, well, well." The lid lifted again and Yukio saw a bright blue eye half hidden by dark, dirty, raggedy hair. It widened and then squinted in a smile. "Well, well, well," he said again, quieter. "Stay here, Prince. And don't make a sound."

The lid shut at once and Yukio let out another breath. Slow and quiet. Money would talk for him on this ship and he’d luckily snagged a lot on his way.

Still, a sense of unease coiled in his stomach when within minutes of that first disturbance, there was another one.

"Hey."

A sharp rap on the top of the crate's lid was the only warning he got before it was lifted, putting him directly in the line of sight of the man he had talked to earlier, and a woman too. Her vibrant, long, red hair was tied up in a bun above her head and she looked down at him from behind a blonde fringe with a distinctly unimpressed expression.

"Stand up," she said.

Yukio wrinkled his nose and was tempted to defy the order, but decided he was better off on his feet. He stood, a frown firmly on his lips, but was somewhat satisfied to be a bit taller than the formidable looking woman in front of him. 

“I’m not leaving this ship,” Yukio said firmly. “So if you’re going to ask me that, the answer is no.”

"Ha! Well, aren't you gutsy. Or perhaps just an idiot. You're hardly in the position to be making that kind of demand, you realize," the woman said as she rested one of her hands on her hip and took in the sight he made in the clothes he had borrowed. She lifted one eyebrow at him.

"Tell me. Why shouldn't I simply just throw you overboard, or better yet, draw the attention of the pain in the ass head of security that's anchored right outside our ship? You'd make a very efficient distraction to get him off our backs."

Yukio sneered at the threat as he scrambled through his brain for a possible out. But then, the man behind her shook the golden bracelet he had handed him and Yukio was reminded of the resolution he’d come to terms with already.

He reached into the leather purse at his side and pulled out a ring dotted with sapphires all around the band. He held it out.

“I’ll pay,” he replied.

The woman's eyes darted towards the ring. She didn't take it right off the bat. Instead, she stared at it contemplatively before finally reaching for it.

"This will buy you some time. But you'll have to sweeten the pot if you want us to keep quiet until we set course," she told him as she slipped the ring into one of her pockets.

At this, Yukio pulled out three antique gold coins. He showed them to her, but didn’t offer them just yet. “I’m staying on the ship and I want to speak with your captain once he arrives.”

Shura's lips twitched. "That so," she murmured thoughtfully. "Well, if you want to speak with him, you better keep your head down until he's ready to see you." She shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"We've got another four sets of mouths to convince to keep quiet until then. Fork up enough of those to keep us all happy and I'll get you what you want. Until then, get back in that crate. I'll have someone drop you off somewhere where you'll be less likely to be found."

Yukio didn’t bother to negotiate further. They were pirates, thieves ruled by money. If it was a transaction they wanted, he had enough money to make it happen. So Yukio pulled out one of the smaller leather pouches, dropped the coins into it, and handed it over to her. 

“Make sure they know who gave it to them and we have a deal,” Yukio said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t want to be tossed overboard after I’ve already paid.”

At that, Shura smirked. "I'm afraid that's the price of doing business with pirates, Your Highness. But if you've got more of this up your sleeve, I'm sure we'll all agree to be very welcoming towards your stay. If you manage to convince the Captain, that is."

“Hmph.” Yukio lifted his chin. “I’ll convince him. You just pass the contents of that pouch to the crew and if they need an extra bit of convincing, they just need to know that my presence on this ship will be more lucrative for you than not. A successful voyage will see your reward grow sevenfold easily.” He was improvising, but he wasn’t exactly lying. He knew Rin would be more than happy to reward any crew who brought him back safely.

And the woman in front of him seemed to realize that as well. Or at the very least, she didn't seem interested in bartering further.

"Hmm, alright then. It's a deal." She pocketed the money Yukio had given her and turned towards her companion.

"Lightning, get the Lundstroms down here. And if you see our beloved Captain on his way back already, delay him. We'll need a little bit of time to get our guest nice and settled."

[Continue Reading!]

[finding-the-honey]

A Minute To Breathe

Sometimes recovery just ... stops. Dead in the water, tits up, pick your metaphor. Sometimes you're back to square one. Sometimes you're even back to square -5 and the only thing you can manage is simple survival. Digging your fingers into the hill to stop the decent.

Mental, physical, emotional. Doesn't matter which one is the culprit. Doesn't even matter if they all are.

I've had so many breakdowns the last few weeks - worst was when I realized I couldn't even change a light bulb. Ceiling light in the bathroom blew, and I couldn't do a thing about it because I can't raise my arms up for five - or less - easy minutes.

Recovery was supposed to be my slow and methodical ascent, my rise above the disabilities. Leave them behind like a shed. Move to a place where I'm chronically ill, but not disabled.

So much for that.

But.

Here I am anyway. Had to crawl part of the way. Wall walked the rest. Spent the afternoon with two of the kids and we managed to accomplish this:

I'm really paying for it, and likely will do so for a few days but. I keep crying, every time I peek around my monitor and see the room.This morning the space was full of stacked art supplies and epic levels of dog hair tumbleweeds. It was dusty and gross and borderline hoarderish, it was depressing on a level I can't even begin to articulate.

Now I can let someone into my house and not feel shame and despair.

Of course the disabled part of me wonders how long it will last ... but the hopeful part reminds me that I'm getting child support now, so maybe I can afford to have someone in to clean once or twice a month. Pay someone to do the shit that I can't.

There's more, of course - how I learned I can't sleep in my bed any more, so I've turned my room into The Closet, and that's depressing af and something I'll need to deal with here soon ...

But not today. I'm done for the day, I think. Now I'm going to sit back and relax, smoke a fat blunt and look at my clean living room. Cry over it, even, because for all the backsliding, I'm still here. I'm still determined.

[liuhsng]

☆彡 his and hers

☆彡 summary: being exes' with your brothers best friend wasn't an easy task, there's the constant avoiding and denial of the feelings that are still there. but one glance at a party finished it and answered all of their doubts and questions.

☆彡 genre: fluff, suggestive, angst, ex lovers to lovers au, college au

☆彡 warning/s: mild cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, suggestive content

☆彡 word count: 2.8K

☆彡 note/s: best read while listening to 'fever' by enhypen.

''are you gonna tag along or what?'' the annoyingly familiar voice reached her ears and automatically made the female roll her eyes at the sound, this guy cannot and will never leave her alone even if her life depended on it; is something that she swore deep inside.

''since when did i miss one of your own parties, jake?'' but he did nothing and laugh at her said comment and keep on scrolling through his phone, what was he doing in my room anyways when he has his own? even i she herself didn't know the answer to that either.

''me and the rest of the boys planned it, automatically means that they're all gonna be there, thought you wanna know.'' she shivered at the thought of it alone, calm down, deep breaths, he's already moved on and she should to. that's how it's supposed to be going.

staring at the pile of the books in front of her, it made her think. some things should be forgotten, some memories should be erased and replaced with new ones, but why can't she do that? why can't she just simply push them away and move on with everything? why can't she act like a decent human being for once and just leave the memories somewhere? sim (y/n), never knew why.

''what's new?'' was the only thing that came out from her after swimming in her train of thoughts for too long, as her brother seemed to notice the shift in the youngers' but decided to shrug it off and act like there's nothing that happened in the first place.

even so, it's just one night of seeing him again; what could possibly go wrong?

everything could go wrong, every single thing could go wrong; what was she thinking?

from simply overthinking the situation and looking at all of the possibilities of seeing people she doesn't want to see and forget, everything could just go wrong.

''can you stop doing that, you're making my head spin.'' and a pillow was met with his pretty face. one point for sim (y/n), zero points for sim jaeyun.

''what was that for?!'' jake shouted at the still pacing female who just gave him a hard glare and made her way out of the room, dragging her bag along the way. she has an older brother, but he wasn't helping like he's supposed to and that thought alone made her groan in frustration.

some fresh air, sunlight, and a quiet walk towards her next class was all the girl needed to release some steam. (y/n) never really thought about the parties that jake threw here and there, plus; everyone from any year enjoys them, so why bother? but this upcoming one just seemed so...off to her for some reason, really, really off.

''you look constipated.'' a sudden voice coming from beside her interrupted her train of thoughts, there goes peace and quiet, once again.

''jay, do i really look that bad?'' she laughed and slowed down her pace, looking at the blonde beside her who chuckled at the response.

''i just wanted to make fun of you, what's going through that head of yours?'' something that people can't do once their friends with jay is hiding their problems, the guy can read anyone like an open book.

that question made (y/n) stop in her tracks and groan, she needed to get it off her chest but at the same time; she doesn't want anyone to know.

''you'll just think that it's stupid and-'' before she could even say another word, he beat her to it.

''it's heeseung, isn't it?'' the blonde pointed out, and nudged her shoulder as a sign for them to keep on walking and she obliged, not wanting to be late for class either.

''you know, moving on isn't exactly as easy as you think it is. the two of you were together for a pretty long time and it took a lot of hard work to get past your brother when it comes to you.'' and that made her think too, (y/n) hummed in reply as a sign for him to keep on talking.

''and it's not easy for us to hear that hyung complain every single fucking time on how he still loves you.'' jay almost gagged at the choice of words, but managed to laugh it off.

he wasn't lying, hearing lee heeseung whine about his unending love for the younger sim sibling isn't exactly a pleasant thing to hear on repeat. at least not for him and the rest of his friends, and that includes jake too who had to shove in his earphones to block out heeseung's loud mouth that spilled nothing but his sisters name and how much he misses her.

''stop talking nonsense.'' (y/n) laughed lightly, not believing any of the words that just came out from his mouth. lee heeseung and her broke up for a reason, the feelings broke up too when they did. it's just impossible to keep on yearning for someone who's probably doing great without you in their life.

''sure, don't believe me. you'll be eating your own words soon enough.'' he snickered, fully knowing that his words will be true no matter what happens.

''you're coming tonight, right?'' he asked, taking the last sip on his now empty cup of coffee and glancing the girl beside him who just rolled her eyes at the question. ''first jake, then there's sunghoon, and now you? of course i'm coming, please stop asking me that!'' (y/n) rolled her eyes once again and stomped her way off inside the building making jay hold back a laugh and get inside himself. ''this one will be interesting.'' the blonde released a sigh and slung his bag over his shoulders, seems like he'll be helping on the boys matchmaking plan tonight.

''shut up and look at yourself in the mirror before you start complaining.'' (y/n)'s best friend is currently with her, ushering the female to go and check out herself, not being aware on how good she looks at the moment. ''but areum-'' the younger sim shook her head and closed her eyes and that made areum pull on her arm and shove her in front of the full body mirror inside her bedroom ''don't 'but areum' me, open your eyes and look at your pretty ass self!'' the said female only huffed and her best friend shook her a bit to the side, at this; she had no choice and sighed.

opening her eyes, she stared at her reflection. looking at the way on how the dress perfectly fitted her curves, the makeup she was wearing was just really simple and was there to enhance her looks more, since areum says and she quotes 'you already look beautiful enough even without makeup'.

''i guess i do look good.'' (y/n) laughed along with her best friend who was squealing at her masterpiece, bragging about on how she's the best makeup artist and friend there is.

''as much as i want to keep on being all dolled up here, we have a party to be in.'' areum pointed out and linked her arms with (y/n) who just sighed and pushed her inner thoughts away, she should be enjoying and not stressing over things.

''okay, let's go and see what they threw this time.'' and with that, they were off.

the loud music coming from the place was the first thing they were greeted with as they stood outside, people chattering and drinking with their set of friends were everywhere.

''(y/n), areum, over here!'' that voice made the two turn around only to see a smiling jungwon waving at them to come over at one of the tables.

''hey jungwon, have you seen jake?'' instead of her usual soft talking voice, she had to increase her tone a little bit due to the loud music that was blasting through the place.

''oh, he's over there with sunoo and 'you-know-who', they're busy talking about random shit.'' jungwon pointed over to one side of the dorms, it wasn't easy to spot them due to the sea of people inside but she managed.

her brother was leaning on the wall, hands crossed and a drink in his hands, busy laughing about something sunoo has said. then there's the person she'd been avoiding for the past few months, still looking handsome as ever as he laughed along with the two.

and she loathed him for it, she loathed him for making her heart flutter just by the sight of him when she isn't supposed to in the first place. she hated it but here she was, analyzing him from afar even though she never meant to.

''looks like someone's busy staring at her ex-boyfriend.'' sunghoon's overly familiar voice whistled through their way, making himself comfortable at one of the seats to which both jungwon and (y/n)'s best friend stifled their laughs at.

''can you not? i was just looking for jake.'' the female scoffed, rolling her eyes at sunghoon who didn't buy her act even for a second.

''you could've just approached him, or is someone scared to encounter heeseung?'' he snickered, leaning back on his chair and raising and eyebrow at (y/n) to prove his point making her sigh in defeat.

''called it.'' jungwon commented, standing up from his seat and excusing himself out to grab some food, telling them that he'll be back sooner or later. while her best friend was nowhere to be found, probably hooking up with some guy now, who knows?

''he's been like that for hours now.'' sunghoon sighed, landing his gaze on heeseung to which she also looked at.

''searching through almost everyone, looks like he's trying to find his beloved girlfriend.'' he ran a hand through his hair as (y/n)'s gazed stayed on him, in fact he was, his eyes scanned the big room as if they're searching for something, someone through the crowd of rowdy students.

''try to say the word 'ex' and i'm kicking you.'' jay suddenly spoke up, startling her a bit and breaking her gaze at the male.

''aren't i his-'' before she could even utter another word, the blonde gave her a hard glare and sat beside sunghoon who laughed at him.

''before you start acting all sulky because of us spitting facts, i suggest you go grab a drink or do something, the night's just starting.''that comment from jay made her stand up from her seat, hating on how he's always right.

''i'm starting to question if you guys are my friends or a bunch of moms.'' (y/n) pointed at the both of them who just shrugged at her, ushering her to go on and get refreshed

''thank you my daughter, now go.'' and off she goes again.

(y/n) walked through the dorms, there are a lot more people in here than she expected. from people playing games, eating food, drinking, up to couples flirting and acting like they're the only ones in here; there were a lot of things happening.

instead of getting herself something and being social to actually talk to people, she made her way upstairs.

even though there were still plenty of people in there, it was quieter. going through one of the halls that leads to even more rooms, she just sat there. trying to block out the noise and the people from downstairs.

''what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be enjoying down there?'' she tensed up at the person standing in front of her, trying her best not to look up and rolled her eyes for show, but in reality, she wanted to run away and hide from him.

''i wanted some space, and someone right now isn't understanding that.'' her response made him laugh, she was still the girl that he knew, nothing really changed except for the fact that things were slightly awkward in between them.

''not looking at someone while talking to them is rude.'' at this, she stood up once again to get away from him but he pulled her back, tightly gripping at her wrist and holding her back.

he won't let go of her again, he isn't that stupid to see her walk away from him again and act like it didn't hurt to see her go.

''what do you want from me, heeseung?'' (y/n) sighed, seeing no point to fight back and cause a scene in front of everybody. although they won't probably really care that much, but still.

''i want you.'' the bold statement and the persuasion can be heard from him, he was still holding her wrist like his life depended on it.

lee heeseung was done playing around and acting like he didn't miss her, he was done seeing (y/n) avoid him like he was some kind of disease, he was done with crying his heart out every time he remembers her sickeningly sweet smile.

she wanted to ask him on why he left, wasn't she enough? she wanted to scream at him and cry, but instead of doing all of the hundred things listed inside her head, she turned around to look at him and her breath hitched.

there he was, standing right in front of her. the walking perfection himself with his ever so intense gaze boring holes into her soul, his grip on her wrist stayed, not planning to let go of the female anytime soon. she couldn't look away even is she wanted to, she couldn't release herself from his hold.

''stop staring at me like that or i might take you right here, right now.'' his gaze that was slowly turning into a glare never dropped and the grip he had only tightened making the female quietly wince in submission, and heeseung was enjoying every second of it.

''looks like i still have that effect on you, hmm?'' the more she tried to fight it off, the more drawn in she becomes in. now pushing her to the wall, heeseung held back a smirk; looking down at the female who was trapped in between the wall and his arms.

if someone passes by, they'll look like your typical couple you see in parties but no; lee heeseung was busy trying to win his girl back no matter what happens, and he isn't going to sleep tonight unless she takes him back again.

''why aren't you saying anything? cat got your tongue?'' he snickered, tilting his head in a teasing manner while trying to test the waters on what'll happen after this.

the next thing you know, the male has lost his posture and the hold he had on his ex girlfriend that was pushed up against the wall, eyes fully widened at what was happening.

(y/n) did something she never thought she could do again, but here she was, standing on her toes in the middle of the somehow quiet halls. not giving any fucks on who was watching while she was busy kissing her ex-boyfriend, that was none other than lee heeseung.

''what happened to avoiding my ass-'' he tried to laugh it off once she let go of him but (y/n) was having none of it.

''shut the fuck up and kiss me.'' she mumbled in between heavy breaths, and heeseung gladly obliged. pulling her closer by the waist and roughly re-attaching his lips back to hers.

(y/n)'s hands managed to tangle themselves through the males hair, slightly tugging on it as heeseung groaned at the sensation; pulling her even closer than before.

''i thought you hated me?'' he managed to mutter in between their kisses and heavy breathes, staring straight at her, the burning passion in between just seemed to grow with every passing second.

''and i thought you pretended like i never even existed.'' (y/n) answered back as his lips traveled down to her neck making the female lightly moan but managed to gain control of herself and patted his arm, a sign for him to stop; much to heeseung's dismay.

''you really think that i'd actually move on from you? baby, that's not really an option.'' a deep chuckle erupted from his lips maiking the female in his arms scrunch up her nose 'cause of the cheesiness coming off him, but she wasn't really complaining.

''come on, let's go. your brother's probably looking for you already.'' he interlocked his hand with hers as they made their way downstairs, giving zero attention to some of the stares ang hushed whispers being sent their way.

''looks like our job is done.'' jay commented once the two came into his point of view, catching the others who laughed at the expected results of them meeting up again. while ni-ki just silently snickered at the comment, earning a playful glare from the blonde.

''dumbass, we didn't even get to do anything.'' he earned a nice slap on the back of his head coming from jungwon, to which jay rolled his eyes at.

''thank god, i won't have to hear you whining about your love for (y/n) anymore.'' jake grumbled as he took another sip from his drink making heeseung chuckle and snake and arm around the said females waist who laughed at her brothers antics.

lee heeseung was content and so was sim (y/n), they were back in each others arms and that's what's important. he was hers as much as she was his.

© 2021 leeyangie

[volturi-stuff]

Blood Moon p4

Demetri Volturi x fem!swan!reader

Taglist: @volturidoll13 @raindancer2004 @captainxholmes @kpopgirlbtssvt @avyannadawn

WARNING; mention of blood, Riley being an ass. Injuries

A/N: welp, here we go again. I’m sorry this took so long.

You let out a soft yelp of pain, as Riley clutched your wrists in his cold hands. It looked like he got a thrill out of your fear. "Hm... And I thought Bella's scent smelled good." He purred as he lowered his head to the crook of your neck, as you shook in fear, wishing Demetri would have stayed now. “Let me go!" You yelled as tears welded in your eyes. You tried kicking him back hard in his stomach, but he didn't budge, he didn’t even move a muscle. His grip on your wrists only tightened, with a low throaty growl escaping passed his lips, as his is teeth grazed down the side of your neck, drawing a scream from your lips. Riley’s head shot up quickly, as he furrowed his eyebrows, he inhaled the air as he let a soft growl slip passed his lips. Riley dropped you all at once to the floor, fast and hard as you let out a whimper. A sob ran through your body, as the hot tears fell down your cheeks. You sniffled, as you suddenly felt stinging, your eyes trailed down your leg, to see one of your stitches had popped.

There was a lot of noise followed by Edward's shouting. You couldn't bring yourself to care, as your mind wouldn't stop thinking about the 'what if' possibility of Riley returning to finish what he started.

Oh had been silent for a few minutes, as your door creaked opened once more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look, or even move, as the hot rushed tears fell down your cheeks. You began feeling very nauseous at the sickening crimson running down your leg, as you laid there on the cold hard wood flooring of your bedroom.

Then you felt a cold hand on your shoulder, you jerked up in a panic and crawled to the corner of your room bringing your knees tight to your chest, as you sobbed putting your head into your knees, “Please..” You begged as another sob ran through you. Deep down, you had thought it was Riley coming to finish the job. But a softer voice spoke, a familiar voice. "Darling, please... It's just me, come here." Demetri said in his low accent softly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, as he got into the crouch position next to you, softly stroked your hair with his icy hand, his soft finger tips brushed against your face. After you realized whom it was, you hugged him so tightly around his waist, like he would float away. You pressed your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of Italian cologne, and rose water. "Metri!" You cried out, as you pressed your face further into his chest trying to hide from the supernatural world, "I-I tried to fight him off b-but- the-the blood and I-" You sobbed as Demetri cut you off, "I know, my Love... I know..." He whispered as he held you tightly with his chin resting on the top of your forehead, slightly rocking you. It broke his heart he wasn’t fast enough to spare you from all this new trauma.

Demetri's eyes trailed down to your leg as the scent of your blood hit him all at once like a title wave. He slightly tensed but softened at you, "Here, let me fix your stitches... hm?" Demetri whispered softly, as he gently picked you up into his arms. You let out a tiny squeak as he effortlessly carried you into the bathroom, sitting you on the sink as he grabbed what he needed out of your bag, and the medicine cabinet. He returned to his place in front of you, as he spoke again, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here to help you, Darling." He whispered, as his ruby orbs faded to pitch black, with worry for his little mate. You stayed silent, as your lip quivered, your gaze fixed on the wall. "Ow!" You screeched, as your face contorted in pain, Demetri had begin cleaning your cuts, putting disinfectant on it that Carlisle had given him. He began to fix the stitches that had popped, as you let out a soft cry putting your head against the wall. It felt like fire sticking through your bone as you let out another scream of pain. Demetri whimpered at the fact, he was causing you agony. "Hey, shh... Love, it's okay." Demetri whispered as his cold hand slipped into your warm one. He ran his thumb over your knuckles calming you, as he put a clean bandage over your wound, his dark crimson eyes looked up into yours, giving you a comforting look. "See? You're okay..." He whispered bringing his hand up to your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen with his cold thumb.

Demetri took in the sight of your bruised face, as he brushed the hair away from the gash on your head once more. "Come, I'm doing your hair love." Demetri said in an attempt to lighten the mood. You nodded as you sniffed your tears back, trying to forget about the pain coursing through your leg. "Okay, Dem." You whispered in a hoarse raspy tone. And with that Demetri grabbed your brush off the sink, and began brushing through your hair gently, as you sighed in content leaning your head back to give him more excess. “You know, I like it when you do my hair.” You said with a slight grin. Demetri smiled in response, as he put your hair in a messy bun, a successful smirk spread across his face. You giggled and started feeling better as Demetri placed a small kiss to your head, "Thank you, Demetri." You said with a slight smile, as the pain was still coursing through you. Demetri smiled in response, "Of course, Darling." He whispered, giving you a look, he only gives you. A look that's filled with such love, and kindness, memorizing your every detail with such admiration, that if he looks away, he'd be afraid you'd vanish. You blushed and looking down at your hands as you played with the sleeve of your shirt in nervousness every time he did this, too flustered to look at him. He thought this was the cutest thing he's ever seen.

Edward was watching from the doorway, as he read Demetri's thought's. He was confused at the fact his mind only held worry, and love, for the girl in front of him. Demetri Volturi, was supposed to be this evil ruthless man, a Casanova. But what Edward had witnessed, it’s like it was all a lie. He retreated back to the kitchen, to be with Bella after he knew there was no danger, but was deeply confused about how he managed to mate to you.

Demetri helped you off the sink, gripping your waist softly, your cheeks had heated up, as you turned into a strawberry in front of the tracker, with a small smile. This did not go unnoticed by Demetri as he smirked with such smugness, at the face he, made you feel this way. "You have to change." Demetri motioned to the blood on your pants. He went into your drawer, looking for anything that would be comfortable enough. He ended up tossing a pair of your shorts and his hoodie at you, the most comforting thing he could possibly find. "I'll be right in your room, let me know when you're decent, Darling." He said walking out of your bathroom, closing the door behind him.

With a small sigh, you changed out of the crimson dyed clothes, as a hushed wince slipped past your lips. You changed into the shorts, and soft black hoodie, the cotton material brushed against your skin making it feel like clouds. It smelled like Demetri, his cologne was strong on it, that gave you a comfort feeling, as butterflies begin fluttering in your stomach. You smiled slightly, opening the door to face the tall tracker. He was in your chair, with his feet against your desk as his bright crimson eyes fluttered up to look at you. Demetri drew in a breath at the way you looked in his clothes. His eyes lingered on you, as you froze like a deer in the headlights of a car, already feeling your cheeks redden in his gaze. “You feel comfy, Darling?” He asked in a low tone, with a small smile. You nodded, going over to your bed, a small wince escaped your lips, carefully leaning back onto the soft sheets of the bed.

You looked over at Demetri, as his eyes were already locked onto you. “When are you leaving?” You asked in a mumble. Demetri sighed shaking his head, “I’m not. Not till morning. I can’t leave you… Not again.” Demetri murmured as his voice broke. You nodded at him, as you patted the spot next to you. “Do you uh… Wanna lay with me?” You whispered, as Demetri heard your heart beat quicken, in the same way it did earlier that day. He gave you a small smirk and walked over, you felt the bed dip from his weight as you were faced with his crimson eyes, boring into yours. Demetri snaked his cold arm around you cautiously pulling you into his chest, looking for any sign of distress. You returned the feeling, moving to curl into his side. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, while your hand found its way to his cold one, Demetri got the hint, as he intertwined his cold fingers with your warm ones, giving you a sweet smile. “Metri, I feel safer with you.” You said just above a whisper. If Demetri’s undead heart could beat, it would have in that moment. “Of course, Darling. I intend on keeping you safe. You’re not just my blood singer, you’re my mate. You are my other half.” Demetri said, running is other hand through your hair, giving your scalp a soft massage. You closed your eyes, suddenly feeling really tired as Demetri continued this. You nuzzles your face into his shoulder more, giving into sleep, as your eyes fluttered closed, and your breathing slowed.

Demetri looked at your sleeping form, and his heart melted. You trusted him enough to let him hold you in your most vulnerable state. He places a soft kiss to you head, as he listened to the soft thumps of your heart beat, making him feel more guilty. But there was a reason as to why Demetri was there. And the secret he was keeping from you, killed him inside. Especially because he had fallen in love with you.

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (03)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4

Note: OC is a lawyer but the author knows nothing about law except the three law subjects she took last semester. errors. ah. there will always be errors here bc english isn’t my first language. anyway!!! enjoy!

Jimin wasn't lying when he said you were a mess. This was evident to Jeongguk the second he stepped inside your apartment.

Pile of cardboard boxes and papers were cluttered all over the floor, causing him to feel uneasy. The faint colors visible in his eyes didn't help to calm his nerves. It was as if he suddenly became hypersensitive to his surroundings.

He assumed that your house wasn't really that untidy, but as stated, the colors made it seem like it was untidier.

"Hi there, buddy." Jeongguk forced a smile at the cat glaring at him. He remembered Jimin telling him that your cat was a bitch. The fury pet was making this strange, scary sound. Jeongguk suddenly wished you were here to stop the cat from attacking him.

He wasn't expecting you to lock yourself inside your room the moment you realized that he was your soulmate.

He was so startled by your reaction that his first instinct was to run after you. The thing was, your cat was blocking your bedroom door—stopping him from intruding your personal space. It was obvious that the little animal didn't like the fact that Jeongguk invited himself inside your home.

Jeongguk didn't know why you were hiding from him. In your defense, you were embarrassed. What were you supposed to say to your soulmate? How were you going to explain to him that the reason why you looked like a mess was because of your demanding job?

Being a civil lawyer was exhausting. One second you're negotiating settlement with the other side's attorney, then you would just find yourself filing motions in court and of course, there were many instances where you're standing before the jury and judge to present a case.

Expertise wasn't the only thing necessary in law. You also needed a great amount of empathy so that you could understand your clients. You cared for them a lot; this was why it was such a big deal for you whenever they choose to omit facts.

You hated it when your clients were being dishonest, you didn't need them to be innocent. You only wanted them to tell you the absolute truth so that you could properly defend them. It wasn't like your job was easy. The fact that most people living in your world see in black and white was already a pain in the ass. Earlier this day, you had a client who was suing a businessperson for selling fake whitening products. She claimed that she spent a whopping two thousand dollars to get that fair skin tone. Sadly, it didn't work.

The opposing side asked your client this: how can you say that the products don’t work when you can’t even see colors?

You were shocked to learn this. Your client was subject to a color test for eyes. She said she could see colors when in fact, she couldn't. Actually, the only reason why the vendor sold your client the whitening products was because she also lied to the seller. The latter's rule was that she wouldn't allow people who see in black and white to purchase her products. This was so she could protect her business' image from fraudster like your client.

Things like this often happened in court. The one you encountered were usually easier to resolve, unlike what criminal lawyers face. This, however, didn't mean your job should be taken lightly.

What happened in court today actually took a toll on you. Your boss humiliated you in front of your colleagues, saying that he couldn't believe an experienced lawyer like you would make such rookie mistake. This made you feel like a loser that's why you decided to go home early to rest. You knew you couldn't work when your heart was this heavy.

You ran yourself a bath the moment you reached your apartment. Jimin was bombarding your phone with text messages to remind you that Jeongguk, a friend of his, was going to drop at your place later today since he was interested to be your roommate.

You simply replied 'Yes, I haven't forgotten. Stop pestering me,' to your best friend. Truthfully, Jimin hadn't shut up about this guy named Jeongguk since last week. He kept telling you that he was the perfect replacement for Seulgi, your former roommate.

You just shrugged it off. Honestly, you didn't care if Jeongguk was the perfect roommate or not. At this point, you would take anyone in. You seriously needed someone who could help you with the household chores.

The warm water grazing your skin made you feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you're off to dreamland; however, your little slumber was disrupted by loud knocks coming from your front door.

"Shit!" Your eyes went wide upon realizing that your supposed to be new roommate was already at the door. As if to confirm the horror, your phone rang.

Jimin was calling.

"Where the hell are you? Jeongguk is in front of your door!"

"I know. I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." You got out of the tub, hurriedly putting on your bathrobe.

"Talk to you later!" You ended the voice call, rushing towards the door. Unfortunately, you slipped on the wet floor.

You whined in pain. Luck was truly not on your side today, but instead of getting annoyed, you simply stood up and went your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I..." You were already blabbering right after opening the door. You hadn't seen your future roommate's face because it was easier to lie without looking at someone in the eyes.

You didn't know why you told him you heard his first knock, when in reality, you didn't. You guessed you just hated disappointing people. What happened with your boss today was something you couldn't let to be repeated again. You couldn't bear to irritate another person.

You kept yourself busy as you reasoned out. You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.

It was like the world stopped.

No. You did not see colors instantly. What you felt was something strange—mystical perhaps. It was just like how they described it in books and movies.

You thought people were exaggerating about what they claimed they felt when they met their soulmates.

Apparently, they were not.

You know the feeling of finally seeing the rainbow after the strong storm? It was like that. Except this was way better. Your young self was probably rejoicing now. Being able to meet and look in your soulmate's eyes was dazzling.

The colors were becoming visible now, it was faint—this was in contrast to the embarrassment you were feeling.

You suddenly became very self-conscious with what you looked like. You were wrong. Your young self wasn't that happy because she wasn't expecting to meet her soulmate like this.

You were aware that you looked awful. The bags under your bloodshot eyes were probably so deep. The soap suds in your hair made you appear ridiculous. The most horrifying of all? You were wearing a bathrobe designed with the face of your favorite cartoon character.

"Uh—"

You ran away, locking yourself in your room before Jeongguk could finish what he was about to say.

Your heart was beating so fast as you stared in the mirror. The disgust you felt intensified. God. You looked horrible. You mentally cursed the brand of the mascara you were wearing. So much for claiming to be smudge proof! Curse yourself too because this wouldn't happen in the first place if you only refrained from crying over your boss' mean words, but it seemed like you never learned. You just scolded yourself from crying easily, but here you were, tears were painting your cheeks once again.

"No..." Your lips quivered. You were stronger than this. You weren't going to ruin your chance with your soulmate.

Determined, you quickly changed into a sage dress. Your hands were trembling because of your new found excitement. You loved colors ever since you were a kid. The fact that you couldn't see them didn't stop you from learning its meaning. You studied good color combination before. You were aware how to aesthetically match the hues. For instance, you knew that you would look ridiculous if you wore a neon green shirt and bright pink jeans. You were always careful in choosing what to wear, so now that you could finally see colors without referring to your color palette generator, you were beyond happy.

When you looked decent enough, you decided to finally face your soulmate. The first thing you saw as you opened your bedroom door was Jeongguk sitting on your couch—this was a very shocking scene. No. You weren't surprised because he was casually plopped down on your sofa, what you didn't expect was to see Miri, your bitch of a cat, to be so comfortable on Jeongguk's lap. Your pet looked at peace; the usual hiss she was making was replaced by a silent purring. Her bambi eyes mirrored your soulmate's same big, doe eyes.

You cleared your throat to get Jeongguk's attention.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind." You couldn't decipher what he was feeling. Jeongguk's voice was soft, but there was no hint of emotion there. His expression was also unreadable.

Jeongguk tore his gaze away from you when he realized that you were staring. As if this wasn't already awkward for him, you went on to say something that made him more uncomfortable.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you! Are you going to move in with me now?" You plopped down beside Jeongguk, squeezing your body between him and the arm of your sofa. Miri hissed since she was astounded by your sudden action. Actually, Jeongguk was surprised too. Your couch was pretty spacious; he didn't understand why you had to press yourself beside him.

Jeongguk also didn't know why you sounded so hopeful. The sparks in your eyes caused him to scowl; however, this didn't stop you from speaking your hopeless thoughts.

"We could do a lot of things together! I had planned everything since I was young!" You giggled. You didn't know why you were so comfortable telling him things. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you two were soulmates.

However Jeongguk was confused with your weird idea of wanting to do all of this romantic stuff with him. The uneasiness he felt couldn't be contained anymore when you abruptly talked about dating—as in dating him.

"Whoa, whoa..." He cut you off, arching his brow and moving away from you. "Slow down, will you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." You blushed, immediately realizing that you had gone too far. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I was just excited to meet you." You couldn't help but beam at him.

Jeongguk continued to raise his brow at you.

"Why? Are you really that desperate to find a roommate?"

It was your turn to raise a brow at him.

"N-No, I just..." You breathed in, unsure of what to say. "I'm just happy to finally meet my soulmate."

"Soulmate?"

You flinched because of the bitterness in his voice. His innocent eyes turned dark, he was glaring at you. Miri was startled once more. She jumped on your lap because she was getting scared of Jeongguk.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't believe in soulmates." The word 'soulmate' sounded so rough coming from him, making you flinch again.

Many people had told you that you were good at gauging the feelings of other people, this was why your heart skipped a beat when you saw pain and anger crossed Jeongguk's feature. It was as if he was betrayed by someone.

"It's the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Only stupid people believe in soulmates. I mean—" Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He was so annoyed that he didn't even know how to express his thoughts without breaking apart. "It's limiting the possibilities for people. Why am I required to fall in love with someone I barely know? Why should I leave the person I truly love just because a person meant to be the love of my life," he paused, quoting the words love of my life in the air. "Helped me see colors? It's like forcing me to do something I don't—no, I can't do. It's such a burden. Love can't be bought. I refuse to be with people just because they helped me."

There was silence after Jeongguk's long speech of the reasons why he didn't—or as what he claimed—couldn't love you.

Jeongguk wetted his bottom lip. The silence was making him hate himself. He hated himself because he saw the tears forming in your eyes, an obvious sign that you were hurt because of what he said. But most importantly, he hated you.

It was unlikely of him to hate someone he just met—or to simply hate anyone at all, but everything about you was making him mad as hell.

He hated your hopeful eyes, he hated your beliefs, he hated that you were the person hindering him from being with Red.

He knew it was unfair to blame you since Red chose to leave on her own, but he still couldn't help himself because the idea of soulmate was what urged her to leave.

You were Jeongguk's soulmate and for him, it meant nothing. So with a furrowed brow, he stared hard at you as he said this:

"I'm making you choose right now. Either accept me as Jeongguk, your tenant or Jeongguk, your soulmate. But just so you know, I will never stay with you if you treat me like a soulmate."

His word stung, though you were aware that the only way to make him stay was to choose the former option. At least this way, you got to be with your soulmate.

The colors you see were starting to fade away and it was okay...

[likeastarstar]

2:37 PM- Hoseok

(A/N: fuckboi hobiiiiiiiiiii I really like this one. Hopefully you guys do too! Feedback is appreciated)

He moved around in a way that had your eyes no matter what room you were in. Hands in his pocket, head tipped upwards like he was always the most relaxed person in the room. How did he do that, glide around with ease? It was hard not to think of him in less than decent scenarios when Hoseok was constantly walking around knowing he was hot shit.

Maybe you'd make a move if you weren't in a relationship, but for now even the thought of crossing the line felt illegal. You had been friends with Hoseok for years, flirted with him constantly, even slept with him once a couple months ago before you met your boyfriend. That was before though, now you put a respectful amount of distance between the two of you just in case your boyfriend was the jealous type.

You pushed the thought away and refocused on what you were supposed to be doing, which was setting up for your friend's surprise party with the rest of your friends. You attempted to hang up a sign before realizing it was crooked, pouting up at the large sign stubbornly. You got off the ladder you had used to put it up, trying to tell which side needed to be adjusted.

"Need help?"

You turned, eyes falling on no one other than Hoseok, sporting an amused smile on his face. You nodded silently, gesturing towards the sign, "It's not level."

He nodded and walked to one side of the banner pushing the ladder, lifting it slightly, "What about now?"

Hoseok's beauty was distracting even now, your eyes zeroing in on the way his biceps flexed and stretched trying to adjust the banner exactly. The bottom of his shirt lifted and you could see the muscles of his stomach flexing, smooth tanned skin glowing gold. You traced the way his fingers delicately moved around the banner, forgetting where you were for a moment.

He cocked his head towards you and said your name, snapping you out of your daydream. He had a knowing smirk on his face and pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, stifling a laugh. You shook your head and stepped towards him, holding the ladder steady, "Just a little higher."

The two of you worked in silence for a moment, fixing the sign quickly. He stepped off the ladder and helped you carry the ladder back to the storage closet, following you as you led him to where it was meant to be put back, "I'm surprised you came to set up alone- don't you have a boyfriend?"

You shrugged slightly, avoiding his gaze for some reason, "He's busy."

Hoseok stared at you, raising his eyebrows slightly, "Why are you dating him?"

You frowned, looking around awkwardly as if someone was about to jump out and tell you you were being pranked. When no one did, you looked back at him with a slightly confused look on your face, pressing your lips into a flat line. Hoseok was leaning against the wall with an amused look on his face, a taunting smile on his face.

"What kind of a question is that?" You mumbled, looking away from his face quickly when you realized your cheeks were beginning to redden. "I dunno, he's nice to me...or whatever."

Hoseok snorted, crossing his arms and leaned towards you, "I guess if that's what you really want, good for you."

"Why wouldn't I want my boyfriend to be nice to me?" You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Hoseok didn't answer, laughing dryly and sending you a pointed look instead. You widened your eyes at whatever he was insinuating, trying to ignore the heat pooling at your center. The air around you felt electrified, charged with a palpable energy you could taste.

"You don't know what I want in a relationship," You said stubbornly.

"I've known you for years, I've stuck my dick in you, I know you well enough to tell when you're bored- which you most definitely are." He said cockily, "Besides, don't think I haven't notice the way you stare at me. It's pretty obvious you want me to fuck you."

"That was awhile ago, things are different. You can't insult your way into my pants, you do know that, right?" You snorted, leaning against the wall of the storage shed as Hoseok shoved the ladder into the nearest empty space.

"Was I wrong though?" He asked, an innocent expression on his face, "Don't you want me to fuck you?"

You froze, staring at him with wide eyes. If you said no you'd be lying, if you said yes you'd be an awful person.

Hoseok maintained the cocky expression for a second too long before relaxing, melting into an amused smile and lazily taking a step back when he realized you weren't giving in, "Sorry- I'll stop messing with you. You can't blame me, you're fun to tease."

"You're not funny," You snarked, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok laughed and pushed you out of the shed lightly, closing the door behind you, "You used to think I was funny when you were single."

"I used to think the world was going to end in 2012- don't take it personally," You joked, leading the way back to the party. The pathway outside between the shed and the house was shady, a grove of trees making a neat archway hovering above your heads.

You heard Hoseok stifle a laugh behind you and you smiled despite yourself. He was fun to bitch at- you almost forgot. You had known him for years, considered him a good friend despite the recent gap between you to that you had consciously put between you. "Let's go see if anyone else needs help," You said quietly, starting to walk back to the house.

"Just- wait," He said, stopping suddenly. He grabbed your hand with ease and pulled you back, turning your head towards him and kissing you unexpectedly. One hand cupped your face and the other was on your shoulder, holding you in place lightly. You froze for a moment but kissed back as soon as you realized what was happening, reaching out to touch his torso gently. It was messy and dirty and all too forward but in that moment you didn't have a care in the world. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping past them as you smiled and kissed him back eagerly, slow, hazy, and reckless. You moved your hands to his hair, short pink strands between your fingers. His hands squeezed your ass before wrapping around your waist and pulling away from you slightly, hips still pressed against yours. He slowed down for a moment, flicking his eyes open and over to yours.

"Just," He mumbled, in between moving his lips from your mouth to your neck, "Let me know when you're sick of that guy. I can be nice to you too, or mean- whatever you want."

You bit your lip and felt nervous instantly, realizing what he was offering. All of this felt incredibly wrong but you couldn't bring yourself to stop, your head swirling around so much it was like you were drunk. The thought of ending things with your boyfriend had never crossed your mind before but your body seemed to warm to the idea, unless that was just because Hoseok's hands were currently on it. You pulled away and looked to see if anyone had spotted you, but everyone else was inside, working away.

"This is wrong," You said feebly.

"Maybe, but don't you want to know what it would be like? Doing something bad, for once?" He mumbled, "Tell me you don't like my hands on you- tell me you don't remember how good it felt to fuck me. Don't you want to do it again?"

Hoseok smelled like something warm and spicy- cinnamon burning through your senses. You breathed his scent in deeply, wishing he wasn't right. It did feel good- wrong, but so, so good. You felt him bite down on your neck and moaned slightly, blushing furiously in embarrassment after. Hoseok laughed lightly, sinking his hands into your skin like he had just caught his prey.

"It's okay," He said quickly, moving his face off of your neck and in line with yours, eyes boring into you. "I won't tell. It doesn't have to be now, or tomorrow. Just whenever- call me."

You couldn't help but lean into Hoseok, kissing him again despite yourself, "I think we have to go back inside soon."

"Come on," He sighed, backing away from you and taking a step towards the house. Your body felt cold without his hands on it, alone once more. "Let's go eat some cake or whatever."

You watched him walk a ways down the path, tilting your head slightly. Could you really be thinking about this? Why didn't you feel more guilty? Hoseok shoved his hands in his pockets again and turned his head back to you, raising his eyebrows towards you, "Coming?"

You nodded and hurried to catch up with him, admiring the way his lips stretched into a lazy smile.

masterlist.

[alpacaparkaseok]

For the soft scenarios cuz I'm in need of a little fluff myself right now... Taehyung pulling you aside during a busy day or event to let you hide and rest for a few minutes, and give you some comfort. 🥺

(College is tiring over here, I hope you're doing well)

-🎨

ooh I hope you have a good week ahead of you! first day of the semester was today, it was pretty decent haha. Here's a college au for you, dear! my campus is super hilly (it's situated at the foot of the mountains/canyon pretty much, so it's super beautiful but also exhausting to traverse at times) so I definitely channeled some of that energy into this blurb lol, hope you enjoy! sending you lot's of loooove!

--

Your hands are full, stacks of packets and books piled hi. The biggest feat is getting out of the building without dropping it all. Huffing and puffing, you feel the emotions rising in you like a tidal wave.

"Just make it to your apartment," you mumble to yourself. Once you're in your house, then you'll let yourself go.

Just looking at the hilly campus before you

That's when you notice a familiar figure leaning up against the hood of a car. Arms crossed and a soft smile on his face, Taehyung looks like the world's cutest gangster.

"Hey," he greets softly. Almost as though he knows how stressed you are and how close you are to breaking. He rushes forward, grabbing the stack from your arms.

"Hi," you respond weakly. "Thanks."

"Hop in."

With each movement you feel a little heavier. You watch as Tae puts your things in the backseat, and ease yourself into the passenger side. Within seconds he's sliding into the driver's seat and cranking the A/C.

"Here," he hands you a smoothie from your favorite place, and you swear you feel a tear slip out then and there. "Drink up."

You do so mindlessly, eyes slipping shut as you enjoy the cool smoothie. A seat has never felt so divine, which is odd considering the fact that you've been sitting all day. You suppose there's a difference between lecture halls and leather interiors.

"Tae."

"Mm?"

"Tae, I still have to do homework. I have a whole stupid paper to write, and I'm freaking out because I'm not super familiar with the format, but I have to do it because it's literally like half the grade."

"How about..." the car slows to a stop, and you open your eyes to see that you're already outside of your apartment. "We stay in here for the next fifteen minutes. Let's just not think about school or homework or work or money, ok?"

You nod slowly, but there's still a sense of dread knowing that you have to do this assignment tonight. "Ok..."

"Hey." Looking over, you see Taehyung opening up his arms. He wears a soft smile that looks like comfort incarnate. "Let me hold you for a second."

"Just for a second?"

He fiddles with his phone, setting a timer for 15 minutes. Pulling up the calculator app, he does the math.

"900 seconds, actually."

[obae-me]

Hi, I'm back with another ask (if you're still taking them)! Can I request the demon brothers reacting to an MC who usually shies away from touch, but absolutely melts under headpats? Thank you, I love your works, and I hope you aren't overworking yourself!! 💙

I live for the fluff, and I hope this warms your heart reading as much as I did while writing it! Thank you for your request, stay safe and take care of yourself! 💜

Lucifer

He’s not super touchy himself, so any form of physical affection he shows MC is minimal. A hand on their shoulder, an escorting arm, just simple gentlemanly gestures. When he saw that MC wasn’t quite comfortable with these, going so far as to sometimes move away from his body, he stopped even doing those out of respect for their space. He understood more than most that some people didn’t like being touched.

He wasn’t paying attention when he had first done it, giving MC a pat on the head. He was exhausted, having spent all day in meetings, doing paperwork, and cleaning up the messes of his brothers. He was running low on sleep, patience, and logic. His only main focus was work. MC had offered a helping hand, and he didn’t refuse, in fact he was secretly thankful for assistance. Normally, his pride would force him to carry his own work and burdens on his shoulders, but tonight he would let it slide. They handed him some of his work back, all thoroughly checked and edited by their hands. He took the stack without even looking at them, deeply concentrated in another project.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and raised his free hand to touch the top of their head, tapping them with the softest brush of his fingers. It took a moment for his action to register, and he quickly looked up from his work, opening his mouth to apologize for his folly. Then he saw the expression on their face. For once they weren’t moving away from his hands, but instead even shifting their posture so his fingers were now entangled in their hair. Their cheeks were tinted pink as they blushed, and Lucifer tried to ignore the strange flutter in his chest. He smiled tauntingly, but in a sweet way, happy to see that he had now discovered a way to give them praise. His eyes narrowed in on their complexion as it grew redder the more he moved his hand over their head.

He made a note of this interaction for the future. The next time they were alone and he thanked them, he raised his hand, looking MC with a teasing expression. He watched patiently as they squirmed in place before coming over to him. He made sure they incited the action on their own, placing their head under his touch before he patted their head.

He savors moments like these in private, this interaction a secret and intimate display for just him alone. He adores headpats where he can weave his fingers through their hair, taunting them with merely his fingertips. If he’s feeling extra special, he’ll take his gloves off for it. He’d become secretly addicted to this for sure.

He’ll use this method to reward MC whenever they do something that pleases him. It pays off in dividends. He’ll probably tease them for it later when he discovers they’ve been studying harder and been doing chores without him asking for it.

It fills him with enormous pride that they’ll come to him for this. “Hm, what is it you want? Did you want my touch and praise so badly?”

Mammon

Typically anyone who takes the time out of their day to attempt to touch Mammon is when they’re wanting to beat the Grimm out of him for something he’s done. So, because of this, he’s not super touchy either. It’s not that he doesn’t like touch, he’s just not had too many great experiences. So he can relate to how MC feels.

Surprisingly, it was MC who gave him the headpat first. He’d failed a test, already been through an intense lecture by Lucifer, and now his precious Goldie had been taken away yet again, threatened to be put through a shredder. To cheer himself up, he went to MC’s room. When they let him vent, he couldn’t stop telling them how much of an angel they were. He’d been sitting on MC’s floor, his back leaning against their bed while MC sat on top of their mattress. He was getting real deep with his feelings, saying things MC had never heard him be comfortable enough to talk about.

They wanted to comfort him and to reward him at the same time. Not knowing what to do, MC leaned forward and nervously rubbed the top of his head. “There there.”

At first, all the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, warning signals running through his mind as his nerves went on high alert. But then the soothing circles over his head put him more at ease, MC’s comforting voice lulling his fears away. MC was...was...giving him a...a...He almost found himself slipping to the floor, but then he snapped out of it.

“Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, what’re you doing?” He tore free from them, getting to his feet as he stared down at them. His glasses were slightly crooked and hanging near the end of his nose in his flustered state. “I’m supposed to be the bigger man here, the one supporting you! So…” With a finger, he pushed his glasses up near his face before he hovered a hand above their hair. He took a deep breath, and then gave them a headpat in return, watching their expression and body language go through the same temporary panic as he did.

But then they practically melted in his hands, their eyes shiny with un-spilt tears as their touch starved body received some physical attention. Mammon did his best to prevent his face from getting even hotter than it already was. Who knew he’d love giving them headpats even more than getting one himself?

He’ll dole out headpats to MC left and right now, doesn’t matter when, where, or why, he’s greedy so when he wants to do it there’s no stopping him, but on this particular matter MC doesn’t bother stopping him anyway. He doesn’t ask for something in return for this gesture, for once, but occasionally MC gives him a pat on the head in exchange, watching him stutter as he turns a deep pink.

He loves giving MC headpats where he messes up their hair, ruffling it up and making it wild-looking just so he can do it all over again when they try to fix it.

Levi

You think his brothers are touch starved? He’s probably not had physical contact for decades, but part of that is his fault. He’s always yelling not to be touched, exclaiming loud enough that people in the Celestial Realm could hear, that he needs his personal space. He freaks out if MC accidentally even bumps shoulders with him.

He notices how MC reacts whenever he accidentally touches them, and he takes it very personally. Self doubt and anxiousness take over his mind as he secludes himself in the safe space of his bedroom. With the assistance of the brothers, MC managed to enter his comfort zone, stepping into his room. They started explaining how they were sorry that they were responsible for how he was feeling. They had to bluntly tell him that they don’t like being touched really by anyone, not just him, most things just make them uncomfortable. If there was anyone who knew about it, it was him. They sat down by him, but not too closely, and asked if watching anime with him would make him feel better.

As they’re both watching one of his favorite shows, Levi notices the expression on MC’s face whenever the main protagonist gives one of the love-interests a pat on the head. He’s the demon of envy, he knows longing when he sees it. MC’s eyes were glinting towards the screen. He had to cover part of his face with his arm just simply thinking about doing something like that with MC. It was no surprise that he wanted something like that too. 

“U-um, MC?” Levi’s brain was short-circuiting, and nothing was even happening yet. MC looked at him, their head slightly tilted to the side in curiosity. His heart was already beating out of his chest, they were cute, too cute. “Can I just...try one thing? And! And then if you hate it you can feel free to never talk to me again!” He just needed to know, the temptation of envy at watching a cartoon complete a gesture that he too wanted to make was too great to bear.

“O-okay.”

It took him a full two minutes of squirming in place and blushing to even build up the courage to put his hand in the air. Once he did, he closed his eyes and turned his head away from MC as he placed his palm over their hair. His hand stayed stagnant for a while, just resting atop their head, but then he started moving it, stroking their hair in the same fashion as he’s seen in so many of his shows. Only, he was near tears. Somehow the real thing was so much better.

Once he had finally had enough--he had wanted to keep going but he was worried his poor heart was about to give out--he apologized to MC again for touching them. MC looked down, their face almost just as red as his. When they told him that they didn’t mind and actually-maybe-kinda liked it, his eyes almost sparkled.

He doesn’t do it as often as he’d like, he’s still much too shy and anxious for that. He will manage to do it every so often, waiting until he’s had plenty of time for mental preparation. He waits to strike whenever MC is sad so he can swoop in and be their hero.

He likes the slow simple headpats, moving his hand left and right, feeling the heat inside his chest grow as MC sways their head with his movements.

Satan

Of course he doesn’t prefer being touched, why would he? He gets angry if someone even bothers him when they happen to be in the same room. He needs his space, he needs people to stay away from him, and if he does so happen to want to be touched, he needs it on his own terms. So he actually enjoyed hanging out with MC, because with them feeling the same way as he did, he didn’t have to worry they’d do something reckless like...hugging him or some awful thing.

They were reading together, his favorite activity. There was nothing better than him and his company doing their own thing within a decent distance, and all while being quiet about it. And because MC was being so well-behaved, he permitted them to sit on the same couch as him should they want it. He almost lost his place on the page as he felt their body heat wave off of them as they sat next to him.

However, MC kept moving, shifting to change position every few moments, trying to get into a comfortable reading position, but not finding one. It was driving him a bit crazy, but he understood their struggle. He weighed the pros and cons of what he was about to suggest in his head. He decided that it would mostly be in his favor. 

“Why don’t you lie down and I read to you?” He asked them, placing a bookmark in between the crevice of his book before placing it aside. They blinked at him, embarrassed that they had bothered him so badly. They got up off the couch, ready to lay on the floor. He gingerly grabbed the fabric of their sleeve. “I’m not asking you to get on the floor, I’m not that rude. To my brothers maybe, but not you.” He took the book that they had been reading and brought it to his face, already feeling some involuntary feelings rise to his cheeks. He patted his legs, hoping they would understand his gesture without him having to go through the pain of saying it.

They understood well enough, getting back on the couch and slowly, slowly, settled down with their head in his lap, their face turned away from him. MC was a bit rigid at first, but slowly relaxed as Satan started reading their story from the point they had left off at. He eventually got so enveloped in the words, he had no idea what he had been automatically doing. It took him about a chapter or two before his actions hit him randomly, his mind going blank, leaving himself tongue tied.

He’d been petting MC’s head for a while now, almost completely unaware. He assumed the feeling in his lap reminded him of a cat curled up over his legs, and he just instinctively had been stroking their head. He’d caught himself in the middle of running his fingers all the way from the top of their head, down to the nape of their neck, almost even scratching behind their ears.

“Is...is something wrong? Why...did you stop?” MC wondered, their voice gentle. He cleared his throat, deducing that their tone meant they found nothing wrong with what he had been doing. He resumed his actions, and felt MC happily shudder in his lap.

Later that night, when he was done reading, he found that he had made MC a little too comfortable, and now they were asleep on him. He didn’t dare move and actually ended up staying there all night.

He’ll only give MC headpats in this exact way, with their head over his thighs, stroking their hair like they were a cuddly pet. He’s melting almost as much as they are. To his enjoyment, MC will ask him if they can read with him much more frequently.

Asmo

He love love loves touch! So seeing MC squirm away from all his forms of affection makes him equal parts gloomy and determined. He’s never had anyone shy away from him like that, even his charm ends up rubbing off on his brothers, and they let him give them physical affection every once and awhile. He knows there has to be some form of touch MC can stand, and he’s ready to find it.

He tries hugs, hand-holding, massages, tickling, cuddling, anything he can think of in hopes MC will react positively. Touch his strongest love-language after all, so he’ll be forever downhearted if MC is never comfortable with it. Never comfortable with him...

He was close to figuring it out though, he knew it. His last massaging experiment had his hands around their head and neck, and he felt the muscles in their body unwind just the slightest bit. So, today he had them in his room, sitting on the chair in front of his mirror as he brushed their hair. Like before, they weren’t as tense, and were surprisingly complacent as he dragged his brush through their smooth strands. He was so jovial over this, he was almost humming to himself.

“MC, your hair is almost just as pretty as mine!” He put the brush down for just a second to run his fingers through their locks. MC’s body shuddered, their eyelids fluttering. The heart in his chest pounded in excitement when MC leaned their head towards his hand. He was almost as happy as the time Lucifer let Asmo give him a shoulder massage. “Hmm, what’s this?” He grinned and played with their hair some more, using his hands to pat down and fix any stray strands. MC refused to look at his gaze in the reflection of their mirror, their face adorably red. He just wanted to squeeze them! Asmo pressed his cheek to their head as he continued to pet and comb his fingers throughout MC’s hair.

He pets their head now as frequently as MC will allow. He especially prefers to do it when he notices they’re tense or stressed. Just a few minutes of his magical hands running over their head and all the tension in MC’s body practically melts away.

His special version of headpats come with special scritches. He’ll let his long nails gently scratch at their scalp, causing shudders to run through MC’s spine. Once, MC even moaned softly in comfort as he did this, causing him to almost collapse. Who knew something so chaste and simple could get him so pleased?

Beel

He’s a big lovable teddy bear, and so he loves to give hugs. It’s third on the list of things he loves, family, food (not always in that order), and comforting embraces following right after. The first time he gave MC a hug, they felt frozen, unable to hug him back. They only began to breathe again after he let them go. He respects the fact that they don’t like touch, but it will make him a bit melancholy for a while.

He only figured out MC adored headpats because they practically told him, he ended up being the only one they felt comfortable enough opening up to. Maybe it was because he couldn’t help but sulk for a few days after MC asked not to be touched. They felt a bit guilty for him, after all, he was only trying to show MC wholesome affection.

He had been in the kitchen, getting a large selection of goodies for his midnight snack when the door opened. He almost jumped when MC came into the room, as he went about clutching the food to his chest. He looked over MC before saying anything, their eyes and face a bit puffy from crying. They looked deeply upset.

Beel got so rattled from their expression, he almost dropped his precious food. He hurriedly put it all on a kitchen counter before talking to them. “MC, it’s so late, what’s wrong?” His natural instinct was to hold his arms out, ready to give them a tight embrace, but he bit his lip as he kept his arms lowered. Not knowing how best to comfort them was killing him, leaving the already gaping hole in his stomach feeling even emptier.

“I...I don’t know...I just…” MC placed their hands over their face as they began to cry some more. Beel got closer to them, every inch in his body twitching as all he wanted was to scoop them up.

“Well...what...what can I do to make you feel better? I’ll do anything!”

As they were sniffling, they outstretched one of their arms, waiting for his hand. He let them take it, taking notice of the vast difference between sizes. They felt so small next to him. MC grasped his hand with their own, doing their best to keep from shaking. Beel hadn’t quite been ready for MC to place his hand over their head, holding onto his wrist. He hesitated for a second, starting off very slow. The more he pet them, the more they started to calm down.

This made his heart swell immensely. He was so overjoyed that he was making MC happy, that he got to touch them, that he got a bit carried away as his built up emotions flowed straight to his hands. He moved his hand back and forth a bit aggressively, all purely by accident. He’d had his eyes closed as he couldn’t contain himself, his heart feeling like bursting. He was shaking MC back and forth so violently, they had to grasp onto his clothes from falling over. He quickly stopped, apologizing profusely while MC held tightly onto him as they waited for the room to stop spinning.

He will want to do this all the time, it satiates some sort of hunger in his stomach when he does, and MC doesn’t complain. Just as long as he does it gently. He’ll pet them like a fragile creature, as he closes his eyes and almost glows in happiness when he does. The gesture reminds him a lot of comforting Belphie.

Belphie

Like Satan, Belphie is only somewhat okay with touch if it’s on his terms. He almost always needs to initiate it, or ask for it at the very least. The only exception to the rule is his twin Beel. His brother is always picking him up, hugging him, or letting Belphie sleep on him.

When MC explained that they didn’t like touch, he was okay with it. What, did they think he cared? It’s no big deal, whatever, he’s too tired to worry about it. It does affect him, but he’s not even sure why. Is it because they look so soft to him that he wants to cuddle them like a pillow? Is it because he just wants to feel their sweet warmth? Is it because he wants to spite his brothers by being the only one able to touch them? He’s unsure. The only thing he is sure of is it’s making him a bit restless.

So, to deal with this, he did what came most naturally to him. That being coming into MC’s room unannounced in the dead of night. He’s still not used to normal human manners or behavior, or he doesn’t really care. Possibly both.

He watched MC sleep peacefully in bed, the silver rays of moonlight seeping through their window and landing on their head, reflecting off the color of their hair. He knelt close to the bed, tucking his pillow close to his chest as he watched them sleep for a bit. Then he lazily raised his hand, plopping it over their head. Their body jolted a bit as their eyelids opened.

“B-Belphie?” MC moved a bit, coming out of their tired haze.

“Shh, this is just a dream,” he told them, abusing his powers a bit as he influenced their exhaustion. A sleepy gaze coated their eyes. They ceased moving, nuzzling their head against the pillow as they no longer went to question why he was in their room.

He ran his hand gently over their head, watching color flush their cheeks as they stared at him in their dreamy state. Their lips almost curled into a smile, and Belphie pulled his cow-printed pillow closer to his chest, hoping to muffle the rapid beating of his heart. He pet MC’s head until they fell fast asleep again.

In the morning, MC looks at him in a weird way, more flustered than usual. He’ll tease them about it a bit, questioning their actions and feeling twisted satisfaction when they explained that they simply had experienced a strange dream last night.

He might continue to do this, giving them affection before bed and persuading them it was nothing more than a dream, but eventually he’ll want them to know it was real. He’ll just enjoy this secret interaction a little more before he does tell them, though.

He likes to pet their head in a way that lets their hair look like sleepy bed-hair, he finds it unbelievably adorable. He’ll start from the top of their head and work down towards their cheek, letting MC nuzzle against his palm before they sleep.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eleven - “there’s a reason behind everything”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n endure an event of stressful affliction, followed by something... entrancing.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It had been a few days. There hadn't been any more headaches or vomiting. He was glad that Y/N faced no more impediments after that. However, he can't say the same for himself.

The thrashing was violent, his limbs wrenching, muscles tensing. The sheet beneath him was damp from cold sweat. He hadn't had a nightmare this bad in a while.

Ghastly memories assaulted him, ripping him from reality and forcing him back into agony, torture, and trauma. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he wasn't sure if that was in the nightmare or real life. The lines of reality and dreamscape faded. He couldn't tell if he was awake, and panic metastasized throughout his body.

His arms were strapped down - yes, two of them. He couldn't tell if the other was metal or not; the only thing he could register was that he had zero control. He was exposed and helpless and right back where he was before. He had never gotten out. Hydra still had their chains around his neck, choking the humanity out of him, and violating his autonomy to make a monster out of a man.

He felt like a caged animal. All there existed was terror; he needed to get out and he didn't care if he had to cut off a body part to do it. He jerked his body and pulled his arms as hard as he could. He thrashed and thrashed, desperately trying to somehow find a way out of this hell. He tried to scream but his lungs were frozen, cracked and collapsed from the ice that they defiled him with.

Every nerve in his body was ignited, screeching to try to escape. The only coherent thought in his head was "get out." Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get—

The top of his head suddenly burned, pain radiating out in beats, like a heart rate. It was then when he realized he was awake. It was then when he realized he had flung himself up, causing his head to collide with the wooden slats of the top bunk. It was also at this point when he heard her voice.

"Bucky!" her voice shook intensely, worry bubbling from the back of her throat. "Oh my god."

Faintly, the fear in her voice registered somewhere in the back of Bucky's brain, but this had no effect on his entirely overstimulated nervous system. His reaction was visceral; he flinched hard, jolting away from Y/N and falling off the side of the bed. The floor was cold; he could feel it in his hand and knees as he knelt on all fours (all threes?) trying to catch his breath.

Y/N hurried around the bed and immediately dropped to the floor in front of him. Her hands were quivering in front of her, completely unsure of how he would react to being touched.

His eyes were glued to the floor beneath him, but in his peripheral he could see Y/N's legs. Suddenly, she knelt on her hands, trying to be as non-threatening as she could.

"Buck," she whispered. "It was a nightmare. It was just a nightmare. You're here, and you're just fine."

"Fuck," he whispered. His body was on fire; he wished it'd just calm down.

"Your hand's on the floor. What does the floor feel like?" she asked, in an attempt to detour his attention.

"Cold," he strained.

"Cold, yeah," she said. "Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"It's because it's made of stone. Stone has a high thermal conductivity, which means it allows heat to flow through it quickly. The heat from your skin goes right into it and flows through really fast."

He pivoted his wrist slightly, smoothing the skin on his hand over the stone, feeling the cold, and thinking about what Y/N said.

She smiled slightly. "There's a reason behind everything, you know. An explanation."

"Even for this?" he asked, referencing the panic.

"Especially for this. What are you feeling right now?"

"Can't breathe."

"Yep. Okay, that's normal, too. That's your nervous system. It's really riled up right now because you're stressed. See, your body has a natural response to stress called the fight or flight response. It's supposed to be used in the wild to run from a predator or something, and you can imagine how engaging and intense that would be on your body," her voice was calm and steady. "The only thing is, your body is going through those same functions and feelings when you're not out running from a lion or something, trying to fight for your life. Instead, you're here. You're sitting on the floor and you're here with me. You're not in any immediate danger. We're fine."

He nodded, still looking down, still trying to compose himself. He couldn't look her in the eyes once he realized his face was wet from tears. He was acutely embarrassed. Be that as it may, she was helping. What she said made sense. It helped to understand just what his body was doing rather than simply trying to survive through it.

Suddenly, directly where his eyes were cast, a drop of crimson appeared on the floor; it dripped down from him. It was then when he registered the sharp ache in his nose and the warm, wet feeling around it. Blood.

"Bucky, there's- blood, are you okay?" The calm in her voice was muffled by worry.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. It's just my nose..."

"What can I do?"

"Can you just... keep talking?"

"Yes," she breathed, the calm returning with infinite softness. "So, there are a few divisions of the nervous system. First, you have the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system. Then, from the peripheral, you have the somatic and autonomic systems. And then from autonomic, you have the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems. Those are what you're feelin' right now. Your sympathetic is what gets you ramped up - you know, increases in heart rate, breathing, sweating. And then your parasympathetic is what calms you down, so slowing your heart rate and breathing and so on. Your sympathetic activated the fight or flight response, and your parasympathetic is trying to rein you back in... I hope that makes sense."

"It does."

"You know the hormone that gets released during all this?"

"Adrenaline's the only one I can think of."

"There you go!" she smiled. "It comes from the adrenal glands."

"Can I get those removed, then?"

"Unfortunately not. Do you still have your tonsils?"

"Nah, got those taken out forever ago."

"Appendix?"

"I think I still have that one?"

She laughed. "Well that's good. The appendix is sorta kinda part of the lymphatic system."

"The what?"

"Er- immune system I mean."

"Never knew that," he commented.

"There's a reason behind everything, you know," she quoted herself endearingly.

"An explanation," he said, completing the sentiment and finally looking up.

Upon seeing his face, Y/N  tried to hide her shock and concern, but he noticed. The apprehension was clear. He didn't want to be pitied; he wished he would've just suffered through this alone in a hole or something.

"There you are," she whispered.

Her voice was so gentle that his chest almost cramped, and then his entire body softened. Never mind. He'd much rather stay.

"Here I am."

She reached forward, ever so delicately, and smoothed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks, effectively wiping away the tears. Effectively removing the physical aftermath of his pain.

She gave a strained smile. Why did he feel bad?

"Stay here," she instructed before getting up.

He'd do nothing but comply.

She came back with a damp white cloth, returning to her kneeling position in front of him.

"Here," she breathed, putting the cloth up to his nose.

He reached up to grab it, but her hand pulled away.

"I got it," she reassured.

He wasn't about to allow her to clean up his mess. This was pathetic enough as it was; he was pathetic enough as he was. She didn't need to tend to him out of obligation.

He insisted. "No, it's okay. I can do it."

"Bucky, let me help. Please."

"You don't have to. Seriously, it's fine."

"I know I don't have to - I want to. I want to help. Please just let me help."

He found he wasn't very good at saying no to her. He nodded silently, closed his eyes, and leaned his head forward. She got to work, gently dabbing the cloth to his blood stained skin, blotting the red, erasing the damage.

"You know," she said, a slight inflection in her voice as a result of her concentration. "I think you accidentally hit yourself in your sleep. I think that's why you're bleeding. 'Cause your head hit the top bunk, not your face."

"I'm really that talented, huh?"

She snickered. "Very. I don't know if I could manage such a feat."

"No, if you had nightmares, you'd probably just know exactly what each one meant and adjust your subconscious so you weren't afraid anymore."

She leaned back, an amused but shocked expression on her face, eyebrows raised, head tilted. Then she laughed.

"Look at you. Came for my neck with that one."

"I was just joking-"

"I know," she chuckled, leaning back in to continue her diligent work, "don't worry. I thought it was funny... even though it was wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Bucky, I wish I had that much control. I know the brain, but I can't work with mine that well. I'm only good at working with other people's."

He smirked. "Nah, I still think you could."

"Well, you have too much faith in me."

He couldn't think of a response to that. He had become decently distracted by the warmth radiating from her. She was so close. He thought back to what she said about heat conductivity, and briefly wondered how fast her warmth might transfer to him. What would happen if he just... opened his eyes-

Big mistake. He nearly drowned in the color, the depth all consuming. He hadn't noticed her movements stopped. She held the cloth at her chest, waiting. There were mere inches between them.

"Hi," she whispered, the ends of her mouth turning up ever so slightly.

He didn't think his body had ever been so still. He returned the smile all the same.

"Hi."

"What are you thinkin'?"

He could see every detail on her face. It made him equal amounts nervous and giddy. He never really thought about the number of eyelashes an average person had, but he became suddenly interested in counting each one of hers.

"I don't... I don't know..."

"You don't know? Well, it looks like there's at least a couple of hefty thoughts swirlin' around in there."

He did have a thought. Well, more of a question. What would happen if he glanced at her lips? What would happen if he just leaned in?

"Yeah... yeah, there may be a few."

When she didn't respond, her eyes bore into him, and dear lord, he felt bare. Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely. Oh, so lovely. And then that thing started to happen again: when time got lazy and the world felt slow. The room was without a sound. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and maybe some of hers, too. It's as if they were in a trance.

Then, that thought returned. What would happen if he just leaned in?  Rationally, he knew he shouldn't try to find the answer to that question. Nonetheless, curiosity beckoned him. Had the space between them become smaller? He couldn't tell. Not even an inch of their skin was touching the other, but every sensation and perception was so overwhelming, he thought his brain might fizzle out.

She was just so, so close. He was frozen, and never wanted to move again. She was so close, until suddenly she wasn't. Until suddenly, the trance stopped, time caught up, and the world began to move once more. Until suddenly, Y/N's serene smile disappeared, and she leaned back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

"Does your nose hurt? I can see if I can come up with a makeshift icepack or something."

"Uh, no. No, it's fine. I don't even feel it..."

He wondered which feeling he was denying.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie

[the-broken-truth]

The Strings That Bind Us ~ Servant of House Beneviento

Summary: Vulcan becomes The Servant of House Beneviento. How will he do?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Male OC (Vulcan)

[A Few Hours From Sundown]

"And this will be your room." The small puppet said as she pushed open a door that revealed a room. One full-sized bed against the same wall that the door resided in but was placed in the center of the wall. The bed was downed in a blanket with dark grey and blue color schemes with two pillows at the head of the bed in grey pillowcases. Underneath the bed was a decent-sized grey rug that complimented the grey tile floor. On either side of the bed were dark grey hardwood nightstands - the left of which had a lamp and a small alarm clock. Across from the bed - on the other side of the room - was a study workstation with a chair, the dresser was tucked away in the corner, and the main closet was sitting on the adjacent wall of the dresser.

Vulcan walked into the room after Angie stepped away and looked around with a smile on his face, he left his cloak in the entrance hallway where the coatrack was located; revealing the black shirt and jeans he was wearing, along with his black boots and belt - the belt contained two sheathes that held his daggers. Lord Heisenberg wanted so badly to keep them because - in his own words - he was a house servant and house servants are not allowed to keep personal weapons, but Vulcan explained that he crafted those weapons and he was not just going to be one of those house servants that remained at home all the time - he intended to go out and do what he could for his House Mistress and he would need his daggers in case he ran into any...problems. Mother Miranda knew that Vulcan would cause no threat to Donna and demanded Heisenberg return the daggers to their master; which he reluctantly did. After which, Miranda dismissed the meeting and the other lords returned to their lands.

"I'm guessing the room is to your liking?" Angie asked as she levitated to reach Vulcan's eye level. The tall man looked at the possessed doll with a smile.

"It's perfect for me. Thanks for asking, Angie." Vulcan said as he placed his travel back - something else Heisenberg took from him and tried to keep because of the leather and design - against one of the nightstands.

"You're a strange one, ya know? Any sane person who saw a living doll would have run away, screaming for the hills." Angie said with a tilt of her massive head. Vulcan chuckled at those words.

"I may not be a 'sane person' then. Besides, I've spent years looking for you two; there was no way I was going to run away after finding you again." Vulcan said before his gaze turned to the outfit on the bed. "Is this going to be my work outfit?" Vulcan said as he walked over to it.

"Yes. Donna never really expected to have a house servant but just in case she did - she had two outfits said, one for each gender." Angie explained.

"I'm grateful," Vulcan said as he reached out to the suit's upper, his fingers lightly grazing against the House's Crest - The Sun and the Moon. "Angie, do you know what time Donna usually takes her dinner?" Vulcan said, looking back to the doll.

"In an hour or two, I wouldn't try to make too much; it all kinda tastes the same to her." Angie explained.

"What do you mean?" Vulcan asked.

"All the food is just...bland; you know, kinda tasteless but very filling for her." Angie said.

"Oh - don't worry about that. I didn't survive as long as I did on bland food and I refuse to let my mistress eat another bland meal." Vulcan said with a smirk.

"What are you planning to do, Vulcan?" Angie said with a tilt of her head.

"Oh, that would ruin the surprise but I know that she will like it. I need to get to work and you'll know when I'm done with dinner." Vulcan said as he turned back to look at his uniform.

Angie tilted her head again before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Vulcan looked at the black uniform with a smile before he placed the shirt back on the bed and began to undress.

[After Vulcan Got Dressed]

Vulcan looked in the tall mirror with pride in his new uniform - the Beneviento Family Chest proudly resting over his heart. He left his room and walked down the hall, down the stairs until he reached the ground floor; from the tour of the house given by Angie - Vulcan found the kitchen.

The Amber-Eyed Man looked around - there were a few things out of place but that was no challenge. He opened the cabinets and fridge and looked around - there were a few assortments of meats and some grains.

'I can make meat with a bread...Hm...but I need something else to add to it. Does she have any kind of veggie here?' Vulcan wondered as he continued to look around and got lucky when he found some potatoes in a sack. 'Perfect.' The red-haired man smirked as he placed all the items - except for the meat - on a clear table and got cleaning: he washed the few dishes that rested in the sink, swept the floor, wiped down the table and counters, placed any kind of box that wasn't supposed to be out in the open and placed them in a lone closet - that he had the cleanout of cobwebs and dust. Once the kitchen was clean - he jogged back to his room and opened his backpack; digging inside until he found the small wooden box he was looking for and walked back downstairs.

[Around Half An Hour Later]

Donna and Angie were talking in Donna's room - the veiled woman sat on her bed with her hands in her lap as Angie stood on the bed at her creator's right side.

"Mom, you don't have to be so nervous." Angie said as she tried to cheer her mother up.

"It's hard not to be, Angie. I hadn't seen him in years and suddenly he shows up here - he's been looking for you and me for...goodness knows how long and..." She paused for a moment as she wrapped her arms around herself - mimicking Vulcan's hug, still feeling his warmth in her bones. "The way he hugged me - not even Mother Miranda held me like that when she adopted me. It was so...comforting." Donna said in a low voice.

"I'm curious - just what is he to you, Mom?" Angie asked with a head tilt.

"Vulcan...He was the only real person who cared for me, even with the scar. He would stand by my side when others would badmouth or turn away from me; he would hold my hand to keep me grounded when I thought I was going to slip in a sobbing fit. When I introduced him to you - he was just as interested in you as I was. We were like...our own little family." Angie could hear the smile on her mother's lips.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Angie asked.

"Yes, I did." Donna said.

"Do you still love him?" Angie asked.

"I...I believe that I do but it's been so long - I never knew if he felt the same for me and I don't know if he thinks of me as a possible partner for him. I know he cared to me but..." Donna stopped in midsentence when a heavenly scent hit her nose. "Do you smell that?" Donna asked as she rose to her feet and began following the smell.

Donna and Angie followed the smell down the stairs but the longer they descended - they noticed just how clean the house began to look: pictures were dusted and wiped down, the floors appeared to be swept, mopped, and polished, there was even a pleasant smell of pine. When they made it to the ground flood - they entered the dining room and saw the table was...decorated? There was a long black tablecloth on the rectangular table with a candle holder in the center of the table - 3 candles were lit with their flames dancing to their slow beats. On the ends of the table - there were plate mats; when...when did have time to do all this? Where did he get all these items from? Donna and Angie continued to ponder until the kitchen door opened - letting the heavenly smell flood the room - as Vulcan walked out with a serving platter held by his right hand and bottle of wine in his left hand, tucked under his arm.

"Oh, Lady Beneviento and Lady Angie, I was just about to get you both for dinner." Vulcan said as he placed the serving tray, covered by a silver lip, in the center of the table before then retreated to the kitchen and returned with 2 glasses and walked over to Donna. "Please, allow me, Lady Beneviento." Vulcan said as he grabbed Donna's chair and pulled it out, waiting for Donna to sit with a smile on his face. When Donna sat in the chair, he pushed it in for her before walking over to her right and pulled out another chair for Angie; the puppet giggled before taking a seat and was pushed in behind her mother.

"Did...Did you do all of this yourself, Vulcan?" Donna asked in a low voice.

"Of course, Lady Beneviento, as the servant of House Beneviento, I must ensure my ladies and house are taken care of." Vulcan said with a smile of pride - he was happy being the servant of House Beneviento?

"We smelled something incredible on our way down here; just what were you doing in the kitchen?" Angie asked.

"I was prepared dinner for Lady Beneviento. During my travels, I came into some very interesting spices and I did jobs to make sure I had the funds to purchase spices and recipes that I thought Lady Beneviento would love. I would like to think I did this once justice but I would love my lady to tell me if I did." Vulcan said as he moved over to the tray and lifted the tray cover off the food, revealing the tinder-looking steak with toppings of garlic and herbs on top of it with some kind of sauce, a side of mashed potatoes with butter - a touch of pepper with gravy on top, and two bread buns. The smell was enough to get Donna's mouth watering and Angie's - if she had organs to eat.

Vulcan lifted one of the plates and walked over to Donna before setting it down on the plate mat before her; her utensils already on the mat, ready for use. Placing the bottle on the table, he got one of the two glasses he retrieved from the kitchen and placed it near Donna on the mat before opening the bottle of grape wine and poured a good amount for his lady to enjoy with her food. He got his plate and went to his seat before he pours himself a bottle of wine and looked at Donna with a smile.

"Please, tell me what you think, Lady Beneviento." Vulcan's eyes shined with the hopefulness that she would love it. Donna lifted her knife and fork, stabbed the steak with the fork before severing the part she stabbed with her knife. She lifted the meat to her lips, making sure to move her veil as to not touch the meat with the cloth; she took her first bite before she let out a moan of pleasure (NOT THAT KIND, YA NASTIES!).

"This...This is delicious, Vulcan." Donna said as she moved to eat more.

"I'm glad you like it, Lady Beneviento. I have lots of recipes I'm sure you'll love." Vulcan said with a wide toothy smile.

"Enough. When we are here - in House Beneviento - or when I permit you, you are to call me Donna. None of that 'Lady Beneviento' business." Donna said - if her veil was off, Vulcan would have been able to see the light blush on her face.

"As you wish...Donna." Vulcan smiled again before he began to eat his food.

[End]